Not a Gentleman (North and South Fanfic)

Chapter Two: The Lancet

"We will do no such thing. I will not subject this family to even more gossip from servants. She will take the room closest to me."

"I will stay with her, mother." The look in his eyes brooked no objection.

The elder Thornton took her son's arm as she rose from the settee and drew herself up to her full five foot two inches. She squared her jaw, tilted her head back and stared him down.

"Very well. Then I will stay with you."

Dr. Donaldson turned to the black-clad Thorntons as they approached. They looked as grave as pall-bearers, he thought. But their outlook should not be so dark yet. There was a glimmer of hope. He was convinced of this.

"Has there been any improvement?" the younger Thornton asked.

A shake of the head was the response John dreaded. He watched as the doctor lit a candle and bent over the slight, unconscious woman who had protected him so fiercely not an hour earlier. The doctor gently lifted her eyelid and held the flame of the candle close enough to the eye that it would normally provoke a reflex. But the pupil did not restrict. "As I mentioned," the doctor explained, "this is thought to be evidence of swelling of the brain."

"And the treatment?" John asked quietly.

"Yes, the normal treatment is to watch and wait, but in such as case as this the prognosis is not good. If we do nothing it is not likely she will survive the night."

"You said there was another treatment." Impatience crept into the manufacturer's voice.

"Yes, it is completely experimental, mind you. And I should warn you that I am not a scientist. Not before today."

"But clearly you have a scientific mind." John noted the extreme pallor of Margaret's skin. She seemed worse than before, although the greenish cast of the light in the parlor made it hard to tell for sure. Was her breathing more shallow now, or was he simply imagining this? He closed his eyes for a moment and silently offered a quick prayer to whomever might be listening.

Please do not take her away from me. Not yet. I beg of you.

What was the doctor saying?

"I do keep up, yes. Our field is in dire need of advance and it is frustrating to apply practice that is based on tradition in some cases and superstition in others." The silver-haired man cleared his throat and laughed nervously. "I speak too frankly, perhaps. But there are some in our profession who see how fields such as yours have advanced tremendously through the application of reason and mathematics, and we would like to do the same to ours."

"That is an admirable goal, and one I am willing to support. Particularly as it seems to me one more likely to heal Margaret." John glanced at his mother as he said his love's name, but to her credit, his mother did not react.

"As for the plan of treatment. You see, a Dr. Latta found that-"

John tapped a polished boot impatiently on the parquet floor."You'll forgive me, Doctor, but I do not think there is time to educate me on the whys and wherefores of this treatment. I trust that you will do your job."

Mrs. Thornton harrumphed in agreement, then began to pace the length of the room, her skirts rustling in noisy frustration. She might not like this Miss Hale, but her son's happiness lay in the girl's survival.

"But I must tell you that it has never been done before," Dr. Donaldson continued. "I am merely speculating based on what has been done by others for other diseases."

"But the alternative is death, is it not?"

"It is."

"Then it is decided. Proceed."