An Unlamented Death: A Mystery Set in Georgian England (Mysteries of Georgian Norfolk Book 1) by William Savage
Authors: William Savage
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Senior clerics do not, so far as I know, make a habit of wandering around remote churchyards after dark. There was no cause for the man to be in Gressington on that day at all. Until I know the answer to that mystery, no explanation of the results will quiet my feeling that Dr. Ross's death remains unexplained.’
Lassimer laughed. ‘Bascom, my dear friend,’ he said. ‘It is your curse and your blessing to see hidden problems where others see none. In medical matters, this habit makes you the most thorough and conscientious of diagnosticians. In the rest of life, it condemns you to worry and fret over every loose end and unexplained trifle. Providence, in its infinite folly, failed to lay down that all things must be capable of explanation enough to satisfy Dr. Bascom. Sit back, forget Gressington, and drink up your ale. I assure you that Anne will not be pleased to find we have left any. She may have the face and figure of an angel, but she can put on the dark visage of Satan himself, if she feels her work is held at nought.’
12
Sailors' Stories
Tuesday, 12 June 1792, Aylsham, Norfolk
I n the days that followed , Adam made good his plan to use some of the fees from his new-found patients to buy himself a better saddle. After his recent escapades, William had come to him with a long face. Not only had the master failed to treat Betty with proper respect, all this riding had left her with sores where his old saddle rubbed. Adam hid his smile and agreed to make amends. Betty was not the only one to suffer from soreness after a long ride. When he could, Adam would buy a curricle to ride about in, as befitted a prosperous doctor. For the present, a new saddle must suffice. His reward for this purchase was a happy groom and that air of contentment about his house which befits a sound relationship twixt master and servants.
Nor did Adam neglect other business matters. He made visits to several patients, old and new, being careful to be home by nightfall. He reckoned up his accounts and rendered the resultant bills, though he expected few to be settled with promptness. Indeed, the richer and more distinguished the patient, the more he or she seemed to believe that prompt payment signified a common nature. Still, he had no doubt all would pay in time, once the delay was judged suitable to their status in society. He dealt with correspondence and creditors. He even found the time to write fresh advertisements. These he would place in local newspapers to solicit more business. Thus a week and more passed, until, one dismal afternoon in a month already marked more by rain and cold winds than spring blossom, Capt. Mimms called at his surgery.
A dam had no patients to see that day after dining, so had taken the rare opportunity to sit and read in his parlour. He struggled to stay abreast of developments in his profession. As a busy young doctor, he found it impossible to attend lectures given in Norwich by eminent physicians and scientists. Instead, he patronised the booksellers or the Norfolk and Norwich Subscription Library. He also drew information from letters sent by many of his colleagues in England and the Low Countries.
One such letter had arrived that morning. It contained an account of how infusions containing the common foxglove helped in cases of congestion of the heart. Adam was deep in its contents when Molly, the kitchenmaid, knocked at the parlour door. Adam had not heard the caller nor noticed Molly going to answer. With Mrs. Brigstone and Hannah occupied elsewhere, Molly was forced to undertake the duty, though it was much against her will. Since arriving in the household, she had rarely ventured to leave the safety of the kitchen.
Since he was preoccupied, Adam spoke somewhat more roughly than he had intended. He sought always to be as kind and polite to servants as any master, but Molly was new and her timid ways grated on him. Now the silly ninny stood shaking before him, seemingly unable to deliver her
Lassimer laughed. ‘Bascom, my dear friend,’ he said. ‘It is your curse and your blessing to see hidden problems where others see none. In medical matters, this habit makes you the most thorough and conscientious of diagnosticians. In the rest of life, it condemns you to worry and fret over every loose end and unexplained trifle. Providence, in its infinite folly, failed to lay down that all things must be capable of explanation enough to satisfy Dr. Bascom. Sit back, forget Gressington, and drink up your ale. I assure you that Anne will not be pleased to find we have left any. She may have the face and figure of an angel, but she can put on the dark visage of Satan himself, if she feels her work is held at nought.’
12
Sailors' Stories
Tuesday, 12 June 1792, Aylsham, Norfolk
I n the days that followed , Adam made good his plan to use some of the fees from his new-found patients to buy himself a better saddle. After his recent escapades, William had come to him with a long face. Not only had the master failed to treat Betty with proper respect, all this riding had left her with sores where his old saddle rubbed. Adam hid his smile and agreed to make amends. Betty was not the only one to suffer from soreness after a long ride. When he could, Adam would buy a curricle to ride about in, as befitted a prosperous doctor. For the present, a new saddle must suffice. His reward for this purchase was a happy groom and that air of contentment about his house which befits a sound relationship twixt master and servants.
Nor did Adam neglect other business matters. He made visits to several patients, old and new, being careful to be home by nightfall. He reckoned up his accounts and rendered the resultant bills, though he expected few to be settled with promptness. Indeed, the richer and more distinguished the patient, the more he or she seemed to believe that prompt payment signified a common nature. Still, he had no doubt all would pay in time, once the delay was judged suitable to their status in society. He dealt with correspondence and creditors. He even found the time to write fresh advertisements. These he would place in local newspapers to solicit more business. Thus a week and more passed, until, one dismal afternoon in a month already marked more by rain and cold winds than spring blossom, Capt. Mimms called at his surgery.
A dam had no patients to see that day after dining, so had taken the rare opportunity to sit and read in his parlour. He struggled to stay abreast of developments in his profession. As a busy young doctor, he found it impossible to attend lectures given in Norwich by eminent physicians and scientists. Instead, he patronised the booksellers or the Norfolk and Norwich Subscription Library. He also drew information from letters sent by many of his colleagues in England and the Low Countries.
One such letter had arrived that morning. It contained an account of how infusions containing the common foxglove helped in cases of congestion of the heart. Adam was deep in its contents when Molly, the kitchenmaid, knocked at the parlour door. Adam had not heard the caller nor noticed Molly going to answer. With Mrs. Brigstone and Hannah occupied elsewhere, Molly was forced to undertake the duty, though it was much against her will. Since arriving in the household, she had rarely ventured to leave the safety of the kitchen.
Since he was preoccupied, Adam spoke somewhat more roughly than he had intended. He sought always to be as kind and polite to servants as any master, but Molly was new and her timid ways grated on him. Now the silly ninny stood shaking before him, seemingly unable to deliver her
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