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T he tea Samantha had asked for wasn’t helping.

She still felt wretched. Since she rarely suffered from any kind of ailment, this troubled her.

It made her worry it wasn’t the pie but that something might be physically wrong.

In which case Adrian’s idea she see a physician had merit, provided the man was the competent sort.

Adrian had always consulted Wentworth, but with him held at Bow Street until further notice, she’d have to find someone else.

Doctor Moore came to mind. He’d recently treated Isak and had done so well.

However, to meet with him would require a trip to St. George’s.

Since Adrian planned on going there to speak with Fellowes, she would rather avoid the location and the questions her husband might ask. No point in needlessly worrying him.

She summoned Elks and asked if he could recommend a physician, then told him to let Murry know he was to join her for an outing. The least she could do was adhere to Adrian’s wishes that she not seek danger alone.

Finn O’Leary still posed a threat. Considering the ease with which he’d crossed paths with her at night, she knew he’d have no trouble finding her during the day. Should that happen, she’d rather not be alone.

Besides which, Preordian and Islington had yet to be apprehended. Until that happened – until she was sure all the doctors who had supplied the surgeon with victims had been rounded up – she wouldn’t trust any physician.

“Does Croft know you’re feeling unwell?” Murry asked as they travelled to Mansfield Street by carriage.

“Yes.” A brief response was all she could manage. The constant sway of the carriage made her feel so much worse.

“Does he also know you plan to see a physician?”

“No.”

“I’ll have to tell him.”

She nodded, then closed her eyes and tried to breathe past the nausea.

She would share the details with Adrian later anyway.

After he’d finished his interviews. When he could afford to be distracted by something else.

Hopefully by nothing. She prayed it wasn’t a problem requiring surgery, though she was swiftly reaching a point where she’d happily submit to such a thing if it saved her from feeling this awful.

They reached the address Elks had provided and alighted. Samantha approached the door and knocked while Murry remained behind her. There, but on alert. Protecting her from any form of possible danger.

The door opened and a young man appeared. Samantha estimated him to be roughly her age.

“Yes?” he inquired.

She smiled politely. “I’m here to see Doctor Wolf.”

The young man studied her briefly, then asked, “Do you have an appointment with him?”

“No. I didn’t realize I…” Dizziness overcame her. She planted her palm against the wall of the house and waited for it to pass.

“You should come inside,” the young man told her, his voice filled with concern. “Doctor Wolf is with another patient right now, but I’m sure he’ll make time to see you immediately after.”

Samantha nodded her thanks and entered the building. Murry followed her into the foyer and then to a room that would have served as a parlor had the house not been used as a medical office.

Instead, two sofas and four chairs were pushed up against the walls.

A table in the middle of the room held a couple of newspapers.

Landscape paintings displayed on each wall were the only decorative items the room had to offer.

It was a space intended for patients to sit while they waited to see the physician.

Samantha approached the nearest chair.

“May I have your name?” the young man inquired.

“Mrs. Croft,” said Murry when Samantha failed to reply.

“A pleasure,” the young man responded. “I’m Doctor Wolf’s eldest son and secretary. Mr. Wolf, that is.” He tilted his head and considered Samantha who’d managed to claim her seat. “Would you like some tea or something to eat?”

“No.” She shook her head. The very thought made her gag.

“I’ll be right back,” Mr. Wolf informed her. He sent Murry a quick glance and left. When he returned a few seconds later, he brought a ceramic pot with him. “In case you need to cast up your accounts, it’s best if we can contain it.”

She took the pot which was white with pretty blue flowers painted upon it. Holding it actually made her feel slightly better. Less worried at least about making a mess. “Thank you.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I must return to the examination room and lend my assistance,” Mr. Wolf said. “Should you need anything else however, do let me know. It’s just through there. If you knock on the door I’ll answer.”

Mr. Wolf sent Murry another glance, then left.

“You should sit,” Samantha said. When Murry raised an eyebrow, she sighed, took a deep breath through her nose and expelled it slowly, then explained, “You’re much larger than Mr. Wolf. I believe your lurking by the door makes him nervous.”

“It shouldn’t unless he’s got bad intentions toward you.”

She rolled her eyes. “A brawny man with a grim expression who looks like he’s ready to strike would cause unease in most people. Please sit.”

It took time for her to get all the words out since she had to pause in between, but she finally managed and Murry grudgingly did as requested. He found a spot on one of the sofas, his posture stiff as he waited with her for Mr. Wolf to return.

When he did so ten minutes later, it was to show another patient into the waiting room. A brief exchange with the elderly man whom Mr. Wolf addressed as Mr. Chandler followed, after which Mr. Wolf departed once more.

With no wish for Mr. Chandler to try and engage her in conversation, Samantha closed her eyes, blocking out her surroundings completely while doing her best to focus on making it through the rest of her wait.

“Doctor Wolf will see you now, Mrs. Croft.” Mr. Wolf’s words made her open her eyes. He stood in the doorway, his left arm swept to one side as if to show her the way.

Samantha, who’d started feeling marginally better during her wait, eased herself out of the chair and into an upright position. “Thank you.”

She followed Mr. Wolf through the foyer and to another door directly across from the one into the waiting room. He gave a quick knock before pushing it open and ushering her inside.

Still feeling slightly unsteady and fearful the faint spell she had experienced earlier might return, Samantha stepped forward with care.

The room contained a desk along with numerous book cases packed not only with books but also with various paraphernalia like glass jars, a balance scale, numerous clocks, and a human skull.

A narrow table, most likely used for examining patients, stood against the nearest wall, to Samantha’s right.

Doctor Wolf sat behind the desk, jotting down something in what appeared to be a journal or maybe a ledger. It was difficult for Samantha to tell with the clutter he kept on his desk blocking her view.

“Mrs. Croft is here to see you,” Mr. Wolf told his father.

Doctor Wolf kept writing. “I’ll just be a moment.”

Samantha estimated him to be roughly fifty years of age with early hints of gray in his otherwise dark brown hair. Like his son, he appeared to be slim of build, but when he stood she realized he was a fair bit taller.

“Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Mrs. Croft.” Doctor Wolf rounded his desk and came toward her. “I had to jot down a few notes about my previous patient while it was still fresh in my mind. Please, come have a seat over here.”

He gestured toward the examination table and waited until Samantha perched herself on the edge of it, the ceramic pot at her side, before saying, “Mr. Wolf tells me you’re feeling faint and nauseous. Is this correct?”

“Yes.”

“The oil lamp, if you will,” Doctor Wolf told his son. The young man brought the light over and held it so his father could study Samantha’s face. He nudged her chin up, angling it slightly for a better look at her eyes. “Any other symptoms you can think of?”

“My stomach and back have both been paining me lately.”

“Please open your mouth.” When Samantha failed to comply he said, “It’s part of the standard examination.”

“I don’t see what the inside of my mouth can possibly tell you about a malaise that seems to originate in my stomach.” She would not let any man goad her into doing something foolish just because he held a title and a position that he felt gave him the right to do so.

Instead of insisting, however, Doctor Wolf told her, “You’re free to forego this part if you wish, but if your throat is red or swollen, that could provide a clue as to what is causing your symptoms. The examination could also help rule out other causes.”

That did sound reasonable. “Very well.”

She opened her mouth and allowed Doctor Wolf to take a look.

Much to her horror, he even sniffed at her before stepping back and telling his son that the oil lamp was no longer needed.

“I found no symptoms of influenza, tonsillitis, or gastrointestinal issues, though the latter could still be a possibility since there’s not always a bad smell connected with it.

Tell me, when did you last have your courses? ”

Samantha blinked. “About a month ago.”

“So they’re due at any moment?” Doctor Wolf asked as though they were speaking of a shift in the weather. Arms crossed, he watched her with interest.

Despite the heat creeping into her cheeks, Samantha refused to let the subject disturb her. “I suppose so, but they never cause me this much discomfort.”

“Hmm… What’s married life like for you, Mrs. Croft?”

Samantha stared at him as the heat in her cheeks began spreading outward. “If you’ll forgive me, I’m not here to discuss my marriage. Least of all with two men I’ve only just met.”

Doctor Wolf tilted his head as though trying to figure out what to say next. He finally told her, “I am merely trying to determine whether your symptoms might result in joyous news.”

“What?” It felt like he was speaking in riddles now.