First Comes Scandal (Rokesbys #4) - Julia Quinn Page 0,93

in his sixties. He would have completed his medical training well before 1777. Had he continued his education on his own? Was he required to?

Who kept track of doctors once they finished their studies? Anyone?

Georgie had questions.

But these could wait. Instead, she busied herself with the book. She flipped to the first page of Part I.

Of Pyrexiae, or Febrile Diseases.

Fevers. This would be interesting.

She finished that page fairly quickly, then turned to the next.

Book One.

Wait, Book One of Part One?

She continued.

Chapter One.

She blinked. Chapter One of Book One of Part One.

Good heavens.

At least Dr. Cullen had broken his text into even smaller portions, most not even half a page long. The white space on the page seemed to make it easier to separate each topic in her mind. Chapter One began with portion eight, one through seven having been taken up with the introduction.

Out of curiosity she flipped ahead to the end of Book One. Two hundred and thirty-four separate portions!

How was it possible there were two hundred and thirty-four different things to know about fevers?

She was beginning to develop new respect for Nicholas’s studies, which was saying something, as she’d already respected it a great deal.

Georgie read for about an hour, looking up every now and then to watch the countryside roll past her window. She couldn’t help it. She needed to give her eyes a break. Maybe that was why Dr. Cullen had broken his text up into so many smaller portions. Maybe he understood that human beings couldn’t focus their attention on such difficult material for more than half a page at a time.

How could something so interesting be so difficult to read? She was on portion forty-four, which began, somewhat discouragingly: “This may be difficult to explain …”

She sighed. It was also difficult to understand. Maybe she needed to take a rest. She closed her eyes.

Just for a moment.

Just for long enough to clear her mind for a few minutes before diving back into the textbook. Just a little nap until …

“Ma’am? Mrs. Rokesby?”

Georgie opened groggy eyes. Were they already in—

“Ma’am,” Jameson said, looking up at her through the open carriage door, “we’re here. In Edinburgh.”

So they were.

Georgie blinked herself awake, rubbing her forehead inelegantly as she peered out the window. They were parked just outside of the university lecture hall. They wouldn’t be able to leave the carriage there for a long period of time. The plan was for her and Jameson to get out while the driver took the carriage to the square where he’d waited earlier in the week.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she gathered her things. “I must have fallen asleep.”

“It was a smooth ride, ma’am,” he said.

And a long book, she thought.

He held out his hand to help her down, and then, once the carriage had departed she turned to him and said, “You need not come into the building with me.”

She was quite certain Jameson would rather stay outside. The last time they’d been within earshot of the lecture he’d gone a bit green about the gills. Marian had later told her that he’d confessed that he sometimes fainted at the sight of blood.

But he shook his head. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but you can’t go in by yourself.”

“I will be just fine,” she assured him. “I know exactly where to go. And there is a bench right outside the lecture theater. I can sit quietly while I wait for Mr. Rokesby to emerge.”

Jameson did not look convinced. “I don’t think Mr. Rokesby would approve.”

“He won’t mind at all,” Georgie said, which was only a small fib. Nicholas would almost certainly prefer it if Jameson accompanied her, but he wasn’t likely to be angry if he did not.

“I will be sitting right outside the room,” Georgie continued. “If something happens, all I have to do is raise my voice, and Mr. Rokesby will come running.”

But Jameson would not be swayed, so the two of them walked into the building together. Georgie brought the large green textbook with her, thinking it might make her look as if she was meant to be there.

Obviously she wasn’t meant to be there—the University of Edinburgh accepted no female students—but maybe she’d look like someone’s assistant, or a visiting dignitary.

Still unlikely, but she felt better with the book. Academic armor, so to speak.

They walked in, and Georgie took a seat on the bench, right next to the open door to the theater. Jameson stood across the hall, but she had a feeling it wasn’t far