during the night and juggled seeing her other patients and dealing with him until she was bone tired.
Now she was angry. “How dare you fall into a well of self-pity! You have everything a man could want in life. You are wealthy, titled, well-educated, and handsome. Yet you throw away everything on a debauched lifestyle.”
When he raised his brows, she continued. “Yes. I know all about the way you conduct yourself. You make the gossip columns almost every day. Nightly, you drink yourself into a coma, gamble money that could be put to much better use, spend your time carousing with, and chasing, the lowest sort of women, without a care for your own well-being.” She took in a deep breath, annoyed with herself for speaking that way to a patient in his condition. She was a doctor and was not to be judgmental.
He continued to stare at her, a slight smile on his face. “You think I’m handsome?”
She growled, threw the wet cloth at his face, and left the room.
To save her own sanity she had to leave the house for a while. There were people she had to check on, and this was the best time to do it before she strangled the man. Primum non nocere. ‘First do no harm’. The words reverberated in her mind as she shrugged into her coat, pinned on her hat, picked up her medical bag and left the house.
Most of the time she rode her bicycle to visit patients, and since she needed the exercise to rid herself of the unkind feelings she had toward her patient, she walked behind the infirmary and placed her medical bag in the basket on the front of the bicycle stationed there and climbed on.
The fresh air felt good on her face and helped with the tiredness from the past several days. Her first stop would be Lottie’s house since she’d sent word earlier that her little boy, John, seemed to be suffering from an ague. Since she and her husband, Carter were quite the nervous parents, Rayne had sent back a note that she would stop in to see the lad.
When she arrived at the Westbrooke household she found Lottie walking back and forth, holding a crying John, while Lottie’s mother, Mrs. Monroe, sat wringing her hands.
“Oh, thank goodness you are here, Rayne.” Lottie immediately handed the child over to her. “Carter was about to take a carriage to your house to drag you here.”
“And I’m afraid I was no help at all, since I didn’t deal with Lottie’s illnesses when she was a child.” Mrs. Monroe looked anxiously at her grandson.
Mrs. Monroe had been a well-known courtesan in London, who kept her profession a secret from her daughter and sent Lottie to live with a family when she was young and then off to a boarding school in France. She had maintained a very close relationship with Lottie over the years, however, and after a falling out and then a reunion, Mrs. Monroe married a wonderful man who was a great husband to his wife, a wonderful father to Lottie, and grandfather to John.
John was rubbing the side of his face with his pudgy hand and crying up a storm. Rayne felt his forehead and the back of his neck. She laid him on the sofa and took out a stethoscope. Despite his wailing, she was able to listen to his lungs.
“It seems your son has caught an ague, and it has settled in his ear. That can be quite painful.”
“Oh, no.” Lottie looked as if she were about to burst into tears. “What can I do?”
“There isn’t a lot that can be done for an ague. Try to get him to drink as much water and beef broth that he can. He has a slight fever which you can help by using cool cloths to wipe down his body. I have a mixture I will leave with you to make a tea. Just be sure to let it cool completely before giving it to him. I will add something to the mixture to help clear out his little nose and help him sleep.
“There is also the thought that warm oil in his ear, along with a warm compress against his head might help.”
“But it’s not serious?” Lottie continued to walk up and down with the wailing child.
“No. He is young and healthy. It should cause no more than a few nights of fussing. And, I’m afraid loss of sleep for you.” Rayne