Free The Armored Doctor (Curiosity Chronicles Book 2) by Ava Morgan Page A

Struthers’ wife.
    “Call me Maria.” The woman’s warm smile was in stark contrast to her husband’s detached air. She poured tea into Abigail’s cup.
    Abigail unfolded her napkin and set it upon her lap. “Should I wait for Dr. Valerian?”
    The skin crinkled around Maria’s brown eyes as she squinted down the hallway. Struthers made a sound and she promptly shook her head. “The doctor takes his meals while he’s at work,” she replied quickly.
    Abigail thought that work was over, at least for an hour. What was he doing in the cellar?
    Maria lifted the tray to reveal soup and a Cornish pasty of beef for one person. She and Struthers departed, leaving Abigail alone with her food and the soft crackling of the fireplace. Abigail noticed that they did not venture to the cellar with a second tray of food.
    She ate and lingered over her tea for the remainder of the hour. At five minutes to one, she heard Dr. Valerian emerge from the cellar and open his office again. She folded her napkin on the tray before she stood up to join him.
    The afternoon brought more visitors to his practice. One of them was a member of a prominent London banking family, seeking to purchase a Christmas gift for his son, an avid gun collector. He chose an iron wrist cuff that allowed a hidden derringer to unfold.
    Abigail recorded in the ledger the very lofty sum he paid before proceeding to prepare the office for the next visitor.
    As the afternoon wore on, she became very tired. Dr. Valerian meant what he said about her not being able to sit longer than a couple minutes during business hours. She rubbed the small of her sore back when she was sure he wasn’t looking.
    “Business hours are concluded for this evening, Miss Benton,” he said, after the final patient departed. “I will see you tomorrow morning at eight-thirty. Tuesdays and Fridays I lecture at the college and I must be there early to assemble my presentation.”
    Abigail lengthened her stiff spine when he came to take the ledger from her. “You don’t see patients on Tuesdays and Fridays, then?”
    “In the afternoon. The office remains open for an additional two hours.” He began locking the cabinets. The day’s activity did not appear to leave him fatigued, but rather energized. He moved quickly, his back straight. Miraculously, his clothing remained starched and pressed as it appeared at the start of business that morning.
    Abigail positioned her borrowed miniature hat back into place where it began to droop over her ear. “I will be here promptly at eight-thirty.”
    Dr. Valerian said not a word as he locked the last cabinet. Did he even hear her?“Have a good evening, Doctor.”
    “Yes, good evening.” Distracted, it seemed, he returned to the middle display cabinet to unlock it. He removed one of the incomplete mechanical arm models and brought it over to the desk to inspect under the lamp.
    Abigail slipped from the office and went to the front of the house, where Struthers waited with her coat. She thanked him, donned the coat, and ventured outside. Her back and feet ached as she started the walk home. She wondered what the next twenty-nine days of being in Dr. Valerian’s employ would have in store.

 
     
     
Chapter 8
     
     
    Christmas Day
     
    Nearly a month passed since Abigail came into Dr. Valerian’s employ. In that time, she attended four lectures, straightened both his home office and the one at the college at least ten times apiece, learned how to take measurements of patients being fitted for various prosthetic devices, did the bookkeeping, and became acquainted with several of his more frequent visitors.
    All this, and Dr. Valerian still remained taciturn, as though he merely tolerated her being in his employment. Would she still have her job after tomorrow, when he was supposed to give her an evaluation on her state of permanent employment? She wondered what all he was storing up to evaluate her on.
    But today was Christmas, and she could