might be expected, but steady. He smiled at the elderly widow, who was watching him as avidly.
“And now your lungs,” he said.
She shifted on the boulder to give him her back. He pressed his ear to her gown. The others stilled as if trying to make as little noise as possible. A shame it was difficult to be sure with all the layers between him and her lungs, but he thought he heard a wheeze.
Linus raised his head. “I believe you’ve had enough exertion for today. Doctor Owens, may I trouble you to take a message to the village? I’d like Mrs. Rand’s coachman to come for her and Miss Turnpeth.”
“He left us,” her companion put in before Owens could answer. “Mr. Greer, the apothecary, ordered all coaches out of the village so the French could not make use of them or the horses.”
Linus shook his head as he straightened. Plan or no plan, Greer had a lot to answer for.
“Perhaps Lord Featherstone could carry me,” Mrs. Rand ventured, eyes bright.
“I believe his lordship has already returned to the village,” Linus said. “And I could not ask such a feat, even from our gallant Lord Featherstone. Excuse me for a moment. Miss Archer? Doctor Owens?”
Abigail and the physician stepped aside with him.
“You heard it too, I take it,” Linus said to his colleague.
Owens nodded. “Her heart. Terrible thing, but only to be expected in a woman her age.”
Linus frowned, but Abigail spoke up. “If it’s a carriage you need, Eva has one. I doubt very much she would have allowed Mr. Greer to order it away. She and the magistrate live just at the bottom of the headland, near St. Andrew’s. It will only take me a few moments to go down and ask.”
“Does she have that long?” Owens asked Linus.
“We can contrive,” Linus said. “Go, Abigail, and ask. And thank you for your quick thinking, as always.”
She gave him a smile, then picked up her skirts and hurried for the path down the headland.
“Stay with our patient,” Linus told Owens. “Mrs. Kirby is still inside. I’ll bespeak some water.”
Owens nodded.
Linus managed to occupy Mrs. Rand as they waited, asking about family, friends, their plans when they left Grace-by-the-Sea. Owens kept wandering to the edge of the headland, as if he could spy Abigail and the carriage coming, but Linus couldn’t help noticing that his gaze strayed as often out over the Channel. Well, who could blame him? It wasn’t every day the French showed up so boldly outside an English village only to disappear.
Testing them, the magistrate had said. Why? Did the French truly plan to land at Grace-by-the-Sea?
At length, the rumble of hooves heralded the arrival of the carriage, which rolled to a stop on the graveled drive.
“Miss Archer said you might need some assistance, Doctor,” the coachman said, saluting Linus with his whip.
“Glad to accept it,” Linus assured him. He and Owens helped Mrs. Rand up into a seat, then assisted Miss Turnpeth before climbing in themselves.
“Take us to the spa,” Linus called up. As the coach set out, he turned to his patient. “I can make a poultice that should help set things to rights.”
“Oh,” she said, pausing to suck in a breath. “Thank you.”
Owens patted her shoulder. “Such things are easily remedied, I find, with the right exercise, diet, and medication.”
Linus merely smiled.
Dusk was falling when he finally made his way to Abigail’s flat. She answered his knock. Just the sight of her made the world a better place. She stepped aside to let him in.
“Mrs. Rand?” she asked.
“Resting in her room at the inn with a poultice on her side. Pleurisy. She will bear watching. Ethan?”
“Fell asleep on the sofa. Mother is watching over him. Would you like dinner, tea?”
All at once, he wanted to drop. “Tea would be most welcome.”
“Come into the dining room, and I’ll bring you a cup.”
He wandered into the room where Ethan spent so much time. Indeed, some of his sketches were spread out on the table. Linus sank onto a chair and looked them over. A fantastical castle with a dragon circling overhead. The front of the spa with a more fanciful pediment over the door showing trolls on the march. The cove with a sea serpent arching through the waters. The French ship, colors flying. And only three men as crew. It seemed his son still had some things to learn about sailing.
Abigail returned with a cup of tea in each hand and set one down before