Darke London Read Online Free PDF Page B

about the medical attention given to the patients, but some semblance of competency had to be maintained. Her father’s slide into dissipation had been gradual, but as it worsened she feared his ineptness would be uncovered and they would be thrown out on the street. So, bit by bit, she’d taken over much of her father’s routine duties, and as long as the patients were kept docile, the wardens had seen fit to look the other way. Since she had left, her father would have to fend for himself, a fact he’d be none too happy with. If he’d been more of a father to her, if he’d at least protected her from the abhorrent advances of Mr. Crawley, she might have stayed. But it was all too late for speculation.
    “However, I doubt I’ll find much employment now.” She lifted her left hand and ruefully waggled her remaining fingers. “My hand is not much use, and my appearance is enough to give a child nightmares.”
    “Don’t lose all hope, Miss Barchester. You’re only at the beginning of your rehabilitation. I predict you’ll be more sanguine in a week or so.”
    His confident tone made her study him curiously. “Have you been practicing long, Doctor?”
    “A number of years. I’d spent some time studying at Edinburgh University, but returned here to assist my father. He’s involved with setting up a new hospital nearby, and cannot see as many patients as before, so I’ve taken up the slack, so to speak.”
    She was impressed, as the medical school in Edinburgh was renowned for its research in anatomy and surgery. She could not have asked for a better-qualified physician to operate on her damaged face.
    Julian set down his knife and fork and wiped his chin with his napkin. “Now, if you’ve finished breakfasting, I shall show you the rest of the house.”
    Monksbane House, as it was called, had started off several centuries ago as a small Tudor manor, and over the years successive owners had demolished bits and added other wings in haphazard fashion. Julian led Nellie through a maze of rooms, some surprisingly spacious and airy, others so cramped he had to bend his head to avoid the ancient, blackened beams. Generations of Darkes had left behind a multitude of furniture, paintings, porcelain and carpets, everything cluttered and dusty.
    “I’m afraid this house is too much for Mrs. Tibbet,” Julian apologised, as if noticing for the first time how unkempt some of the rooms were.
    “Could you not hire some maids to help her?” Nellie asked.
    “We do, but they constantly refuse to stay. Mrs. Tibbet tends to frighten them off.”
    “Oh? I hadn’t noticed her being particularly fearsome.”
    They were standing in a dim gallery where the sunlight struggled to penetrate the dirty windows. Julian blew at a cobweb dangling from the ceiling. “Mrs. Tibbet is prone to seizures. Some people—many people, in fact—find them frightening, especially ignorant young maids, all of whom think Mrs. Tibbet is possessed by demons, despite my repeated explanations.” He frowned. “You don’t believe in that superstitious nonsense, do you?”
    “No, of course not.” She’d witnessed plenty of seizures in the asylum and had grown accustomed to them, though the spasms and frothing of the patients had always distressed her.
    Julian nodded. “If you do happen upon Mrs. Tibbet when she’s having a seizure, you need only ensure she’s not choking on something and roll her on her side when the convulsions subside. Contrary to popular belief, you do not have to restrain her, and she will recover in due course.”
    Nellie listened to him with growing surprise. Many of the patients at the asylum had been brought there solely because of the seizures they suffered. They were thought to be mad and dangerous. Yet here was Julian Darke telling her these people didn’t need to be incarcerated or treated so harshly.
    “We have a hard time finding housemaids,” Julian said. “But Mrs. Tibbet has been with us for many