Anatomy: A Love Story(67)

Bernard looked around nervously.

“I’m good at this, Bernard, I really am. I didn’t always believe I was, but I am. I’ve been treating half a dozen patients—I am currently treating half a dozen patients. I delivered a baby! I am going to pass my examination, Bernard, and I am going to become a physician. I’m actually fairly certain I already am one.”

Bernard’s mouth gaped and then closed like a beached fish’s. “Hazel, calm yourself!”

“I am calm, Bernard. Perfectly calm. But I have to tell you, if you’re not going to let me continue this, I’m not certain I can marry you.”

Bernard glanced back at the closed door of Almont House, as if he were considering reentering and speaking to his father. He tugged at his waistcoat. “Fine. Well, all right, now. There’s no need to say that, Hazel. Let’s be rational.”

“I’m perfectly rational, Bernard.”

Bernard cleared his throat again. “All right. There’s an examination, you said? Some sort of examination to be a doctor?”

“The Royal Physician’s Examination, yes. In a week’s time.”

“A week’s time,” Bernard repeated. “Perfect. You take this—this Royal Examination. And if you pass, we can … well, we can at least talk about how this looks as a … future.”

Hazel brightened slightly. “So you’re saying there’s a chance? I mean, a chance that you might be willing to let me … let us…”

Bernard rubbed his temples. “Just … Fine. Take your test, and then. And then, we’ll figure it out from there. But, Hazel, I swear to God. I swear. If this test doesn’t work out, promise me, this is over. And my father can never find out about this.”

“Never,” Hazel said.

“Do you promise me, Hazel?”

“I promise.”

“Good.” Bernard kissed her on the top of her head and helped her step into her carriage. “Sweet thing. Careful not to jostle on the street!” he shouted up to the driver. “That’s my future wife in there!”





32




FOR WEEKS, THE DATE OF THE Royal Physician’s Examination at the end of the semester had seemed so distant to Hazel, an abstraction that would never actually materialize. And then, all at once, it was upon her. In the end, the information she had learned through endless hours of reading and memorizing her copy of Dr. Beecham’s Treatise seemed almost comical when compared with what she had learned in the few short weeks she was actually serving as a physician for those who came to Hawthornden. Beecham had been correct in doubting Hazel when they had initially made their wager; if she had studied from books alone, she never would have felt ready. Now she almost did.

The morning of the examination, she read through her notes while spooning oatmeal into her mouth, barely comprehending that she was eating at all, so focused was she on the words in front of her. Pulmonary system? Lymphatic? Organs? She mentally checked off each area she had studied one by one, surprising herself with the realization that maybe she was ready after all.

“Stop that,” Burgess said, eating his own porridge with a vigor that made Hazel smile. He was improving. Though he still sometimes gave a rattling cough, the lesions on his back were shrinking. And his appetite had returned.

“Stop what?” Hazel said without pulling her eyes from her parchment, letting a glob of oatmeal fall into her lap.

“Studying. You know it all forwards and backwards. There’s no one in that examination who’s going to be half so good as you, and you know it.”

“Thank you, Burgess. And thank you for all your help.”

Burgess gave a weak laugh. “Feels off that you’re the one thanking me, seeing as you’ve all but saved my life.”

“A treatment is good,” Hazel said. “A cure is better.”

“Well, I have no doubt it’ll be here sooner rather than later if Dr. Hazel Sinnett is on the case.”

“I’m not a doctor yet.”

“Give it a few hours.”

She gathered her quills, ink, and knives, and her Dr. Beecham’s Treatise, more for luck than anything else. “Has Jack come by recently?” Hazel asked Iona as she helped to lace her boots.

Iona shook her head. “Not for a few days, I’m afraid.” Then, seeing the nervous look on Hazel’s face, Iona continued, “Though there’s nothing to worry about with that lad. Could get himself out of any trouble, you know Jack. Slipperier than an adder, and twice as clever.”

Hazel could only manage a nod. Jack was fine. She needed to focus on the examination today.

Initially, she had planned on taking the examination dressed as George Hazleton; she had pulled out one of George’s best jackets for the occasion, and kept it in her clothing press so it greeted her every morning as a reminder of the task to come. But when the time came to get dressed in the morning, she hesitated. She wasn’t taking the examination as George Hazleton; she was taking it as Hazel Sinnett.

And so Iona helped her instead into a dress that had arrived from the seamstress only a few weeks earlier, one Hazel had yet to wear. The skirt was white muslin and lined with ribbon at the hem, before it cascaded into delicate layers at the ankles. The bodice was bloodred silk, with puffs of white linen at her shoulders. The neckline reached her chin, a reminder to keep it high.