Chapter 10: A Physician with Two Ledgers
Dr.
Amos Whitcomb reached Blackwood House on Wednesday afternoon in a carriage bearing the name of a Richmond medical society.
He was a broad man whose hands smelled of spirits and polished leather.
Richard welcomed him warmly and offered brandy before they discussed any patient.
Catherine watched from the drawing room doorway.
She recognized the man who had signed Margaret’s death certificate.
He had grown heavier since the funeral, but his sharp voice was unchanged.
“What a pleasure to see you again,” he told her.
“Your sister would have been proud of the household you’ve made.”
Catherine felt the cruelty of the remark, whether intentional or merely careless.
“You attended Margaret at the end,” she said.
Whitcomb nodded.
“A difficult illness.”
“What symptoms did she have?”
Richard lifted his glass.
“My dear, why reopen such grief?”
“I don’t recall ever asking the doctor.”
Whitcomb set down his drink.
“There was fever, considerable weakness, and delirium.”
“Was she able to write?”
“Not during the final days.”
“Did you see her buried?”
The doctor glanced at Richard.
Catherine caught the glance.
She knew then that she had asked the right question.
“The funeral arrangements were handled by the family,” Whitcomb said.
“Did you see her buried?”
“No.”
Richard stepped between them.
“Catherine, the doctor traveled a long distance.”
“He has answered an ordinary question.”
Richard placed one hand on her shoulder.
“Then allow him to rest.”
His pressure was gentle enough that guests might have mistaken it for affection.
Catherine knew the warning underneath.
She bowed her head and withdrew.
In the corridor Hannah was carrying clean towels.
Catherine paused beside her.
“Has Dr.
Whitcomb treated anyone at the western house?”
Hannah’s eyes widened.
“I don’t know, ma’am.”
“Have you ever heard his name there?”
“People don’t tell me where the doctor goes.”
Catherine looked at the towels.
She could see that Hannah had stopped breathing comfortably.
She recognized the fear she herself caused by asking.
“I’m sorry,” Catherine said.
Hannah looked confused.
Catherine moved away before the apology could become another demand.
That night the doctor remained for dinner.
Daniel served as an extra attendant because Richard had asked for strong hands to move the heavy chairs.
He heard Whitcomb mention a shipment scheduled for Thursday.
Richard replied that the roads were dry enough.
They spoke of signatures and fees in a tone one might use for livestock.
Daniel stood silently beside the sideboard.
