Winter Moon | Completed ✓

Dayspring

Oh that I might have my request;

and that my God would grant me the thing

that I long for!

Even that it would please God to destroy me;

that he would let loose his hand and cut me off!

-Job 6:8-9

Stoneridge

The light of the moon spread across the cot where the young lass lay sleeping. Her light long hair billowed about her pillow and framed her white face.

Female servants huddled around her and spoke in hurried, hushed whispers. Some shook their heads and others wrung their hands. More than one soaked the end of a handkerchief drying pitiful eyes. A candle stick was held up to examine the dying face of a beautiful girl.

A shadow fell across the room and the servants looked up. In the doorway, their master had made his entrance. Wavy auburn hair ruffled about a short brow and square jaw. Though the hair was cut short, the curls were unruly from the wind which had recently disheveled it, as he refused to wear wigs and other frivolous articles of fashion common for respectable men of his class. Dr. Greyer was a medium height and broad build; his sharp eye usually betrayed a sense of humor, just as his reddish hair misrepresented his reflective nature. His nature might indeed be passionate, but never rash or ill tempered.

"Go on now to your duties," the Doctor commanded calmly.

His voice was neither brash nor loud. A resolute firmness brought the servants back to their senses and toward their duty.

"You all know to tend the house and let me tend the patients that are left to my care. I don't need to tell you to stop your tongues lest I stop your pay," he reprimanded with a coolness they all respected.

Patient confidentiality must be observed in the home of the doctor, especially as it housed his surgery and office.

The little crowd dispersed and the room contained only the doctor, the patient, and the dim candlelight which revealed the grayish white hue on the patient's face.

Immediately, the doctor checked her pulse and her temperature while anxiously ordering warm water. In a combination of fatigue and desperation, he began what might resemble the workings of artificial respiration. After removing his coat and wiping his brow, he began again. The quick hand of Nancy set the kettle of water down. Her eye could read the language of his face. She brought the linens and the medical bag he had deposited at the entrance of the house.

After some time he spoke, "I thought I would come home after an urgent wet ride to hot tea and a warm bed. I have been greeted here by a dying girl and a dismal hope. Who is the girl's family? You must send for them at once."

Nancy's eyes shifted slightly as she admitted, "I'm not certain. I realized she must have taken a draught of poison at Durham Manor. I called the apothecary, and he said she must have a doctor's care so I brought her here to Stoneridge myself. But, I know not who she is or who her people are. She was sleeping thus in the manor when I found her. Here is the vial that I found near her at the Manor. I thought you might recognize it. I hoped it would aid a remedy if any can be made."

Dr. Greyer grasped the bottle and sniffed carefully. He wiped the edge on a sheet of paper and observed its effects.

Immediately he selected a tonic of Hawthorne Berry and Cayenne he once bought from old Jim, and administered it with measured drops.

With a grim look at Nancy, he continued the attempt to revive her. In a few moments he checked the heart beat again and gave her a draught of tonic.

"Ma'am," the doctor addressed, "you have saved her life. She is beginning to breathe regularly now. Sit in the chair and hold your counsel. I will want you to speak with her when she awakes. For now I must continue to monitor her pulse and respiration. She is in a most crucial hour." The doctor's brow knit in a concerned frown as he spoke his thoughts aloud.

"For the life of me, I cannot understand what possesses a lovely lady with all her life ahead of her to try to take it! This question unresolved will meet with another crisis. It must be a mystery for now, but one that must be solved nevertheless."

The murmurings of the doctor died away under the strain of his work while Nancy's eyes grew heavy; she eventually gave herself leave to doze in an arm chair close to the fire. The dawn's greeting stirred Nancy as she opened her eyes in the bright sunrays of morning.

The blinds had been opened by the chamber maid, and the cot was occupied with a more active visitor than the night before. Nevertheless, her drawn face and pale cheek revealed her distress and continued illness.

"So, you have awoken," Nancy cheerily chirped.

"Perhaps you will tell me where that insolent doctor has gone, and when I can leave this abode!" demanded the lass.

Grayish blue eyes flashed a haughty glare while the girl struggled in vain to raise herself to a sitting position.

Nancy watched her with perceptive eyes. She remembered the doctor's orders and hoped to probe gently into this disturbed mind while she rose to assist the girl.

"Perhaps, I might be allowed to know your name, dear. I came across you while you were ill at the Manor, and I hope you may consider me a confidant. In this world, there are few to lean on. I promise you, I'll be a friend."

Nancy silently brought a brush over to the bedside and gently brushed the long white-blond tresses.

"I can't tell you my name." Her hoarse whisper escaped as tears slid down the smooth cheeks. "It is a secret. But you may call me Molly. More, I cannot tell. Where is this house, Stoneridge? How far to Durham Manor and the village?" demanded the young charge.

"It is a large land holding here, I think," Nancy answered frankly. Then in quiet tones she mused audibly, "Why would a wealthy man ever choose a profession when he could live in ease? It is fifty mile or more, I think, from the village;" she explained, "It is even farther from the great estate. You have nothing to fear, for I know Doctor Greyer would never let anyone remove you from his house or his care against your will. You may believe he is a kind hearted man."

Molly shut her eyes tight and then opened them in a raging glare.

"Kind? Not to me. Doctor or no, he has brought me back into the world which I cannot abide in, and I do hate him for it!"