TemptingJuliana by Unknown Read Free Book Online Page A

you, too. She had a horrid case of the putrid sore throat this morning.”
    Bedelia, his mother’s other sister, shared the house with Aurelia. Two childless widows whose lives centered on their imaginary physical ailments.
    “Tell Aunt Bedelia to gargle with salted water. I am certain that will cure her.”
    “Do you expect so?” Aurelia’s blue eyes looked dubious.
    “Absolutely.” James doubted Bedelia’s throat was putrid; if her throat hurt her at all, it was likely due to nothing more serious than incessant chattering. “I’ll see you again soon,” he added, escaping to his carriagebefore Aurelia could ask him to clarify what he meant by soon . If she had her way, soon would be tomorrow—if not an hour from now.
    On the way to New Hope Institute, he scribbled more notes for the speech he planned to deliver in Parliament, recommending compulsory smallpox vaccinations for infants. So immersed was he in his work, his carriage drew up to the door of the Institute before he noticed all the people queued in a line that stretched down the street.
    Way down the street.
    They might be London’s poor, but they were good people, trying to do their best for their children. Mothers shivered in the cold, damp air, their faces set in resigned, unhappy lines. Babies cried. Small children whined, and restless older children taunted one another. Rather than wait, people were giving up and leaving, walking away from the Institute.
    For the second time within a month.
    Without waiting for the steps to be lowered, James bounded from the carriage and dashed through the drizzle into the building. In the reception area, more babies wailed on impatient mothers’ laps. Two boys playing tag raced around the room, bumping into the knees of those seated. Slipping off his tailcoat, James looked to the counter for help.
    No one was behind it. He untied his cravat as he pushed through the door into the back.
    His private office was tiny—not much more than a desk and chair, since he preferred to do paperwork in his study at home. He tossed his coat and cravat onto the chair, then poked his head into the first of three treatment rooms, finding it empty although the next patient should be waiting there. The second room held one harried-looking physician along with a mother and her teary-eyed three-year-old.
    Unfastening the top button of his shirt, James frowned. The vaccination procedure went more smoothly with a cooperative patient, and candy—a real treat for a poor child—usually proved a good distraction. “Where are the sugar sticks?” he asked.
    Dr. Hanley shrugged, setting aside the ivory lancethe’d used to inoculate the little girl. “I haven’t a clue where…what is that new assistant’s name?”
    “Miss Chumford.”
    “Ah, yes.” He tied a fresh bandage around the girl’s arm. “I haven’t a clue where Miss Chumford keeps the sugar sticks. I cannot seem to locate anything on those shelves. I consider myself lucky to have found a supply of the vaccine.”
    “Where is Miss Chumford?”
    “In the next room. Crying her eyes out. And I don’t expect a sugar stick will help.” Dr. Hanley stood the sniffling child on her feet. “There you go, sweetheart. If you want a sugar stick, follow Lord Stafford.”
    “Dr. Trevor,” James reminded him. He preferred not to be called “Lord” at the Institute—it intimidated the patients. As did his aristocratic clothing, which was why he always shed the more formal items. “I shall send in the next patient,” he added as he ushered the girl toward the reception area. “Did Dr. Hanley tell you what to expect?” he asked her mother.
    Clearly awed to be in a peer’s presence, the woman answered shyly. “Yes, my lord. A big blister but no pox.”
    “That is correct. It may take some weeks for the blister to heal, and it will leave a scar. But your daughter will be spared from the smallpox.”
    “Thank you,” she breathed, lifting the little girl and holding her