Susan Krinard - Lord of the Beasts

I want only what is best for you , she thought as the twilight deepened in the woods at the crest of the hill. Why can you not understand?

The animals could not answer. She knew she was mad to hope otherwise. And yet there was a man who talked to such creatures as if they were people, a man who could quiet a rampaging elephant and believed that it spoke to him….

Cordelia rose and walked slowly back to the house. She was absolutely convinced of her own sanity, and perhaps that was part of the problem. She seldom found occasion to ask for help in any of her affairs. Perhaps, for the sake of those dependent upon her, she would have to set aside her pride and seek the assistant of one afflicted with just the very madness she required.

STENWATER FARM, A MILE on poorly graded roads beyond the village of Langthorpe, was almost exactly what Cordelia had expected. It had something of the slightly rough and yet unpredictably charming qualities of its owner, and the moment the carriage pulled up in the yard, a round dozen dogs of mixed parentage charged around the farmhouse corner.

Before the horses had a chance to shy or bolt at the unexpected assault, the dogs stopped and sat in a ragged line like schoolboys who had just remembered their manners. The coachman descended from his perch and let down the step, and as Cordelia climbed out she saw the horses twist their necks about to stare at the farmhouse door.

Theodora stepped out after her, pausing to take in the scene. “Are you quite sure that Dr. Fleming will welcome such an unexpected visit?” she asked.

“I do not know if he will welcome it,” Cordelia said, “considering his failure to respond to my letters. However, he is a doctor of veterinary medicine, and as such I assume he is available for consultation.” She followed Theodora’s gaze. “I assure you, the dogs are not vicious.”

“They certainly do not appear to be. I wonder if Dr. Fleming sends such a welcoming committee to greet every guest?”

“I rather doubt he has many guests.” Taking Theodora’s arm, Cordelia started up the flower-lined path. The dogs melted out of her way as she approached, a few wagging their tails while the others looked on solemnly and fell in behind her.

“I feel as if I am being examined like a ewe at market,” Theodora whispered.

“Doubtless Dr. Fleming intends such an effect,” Cordelia said. She strode up the flagstone steps to the porch, smoothed her skirts, and knocked on the door.

It went unanswered for several minutes, though Cordelia was quite sure that she heard noises within the house. Finally the door swung open and an old man, slightly stooped but still of vigorous appearance, peered at the women with raised brows.

“Good morning,” Cordelia said crisply. “I am Mrs. Hardcastle, and this is Miss Shipp. We have come to see Dr. Fleming on a matter of some urgency.”

The old man blinked and let his gaze drift from Cordelia’s feet to the top of her bonnet. “T’ doctor is oot o’ t’ ‘oose at t’ moment,” he said.

Cordelia quickly translated the man’s thick dialect and nodded. “Can you tell me when he will return?”

“‘E’s with t’ coos in t’ byre yonder.”

“I see.” Cordelia suppressed a sigh and smiled patiently. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to tell him that he has visitors who wish to consult with him in his professional capacity?”

The old man grunted. “Weel, noo. ‘Appen Ah can fetch ‘im. If thoo’ll bide ‘ere …” He closed the door, leaving Cordelia staring at peeling blue paint.

“What did he say?” Theodora asked. “I didn’t understand a word.”

“He said he would fetch the doctor.” She shook her head. “Like master, like man. One can hardly expect courtesy from Dr. Fleming’s servants.”

“Perhaps it is simply the way of the people here.”

“Perhaps.” Grateful that she had worn sturdy boots, Cordelia lifted her skirts and set off across the somewhat muddy expanse of trampled earth between the farmhouse and the outbuildings scattered in a rough semicircle sheltered by rocky hills. A hay meadow stretched out to the east where the little valley was widest, and there were several fenced pastures between the byre and what appeared to be a stable. Drystone walls marched up the hills, undulating with the curves of the landscape.

She saw no other farmhands or laborers on her way to the byre, but of animals there were plenty. Chickens and geese wandered at will, snapping up grain and other tasty morsels spread out for them, and a pair of pigs had made a wallow where the mud was several feet deep. Horses in the pasture trotted up to the fence and poked inquisitive heads over the railing. A cat and five kittens paraded toward the meadow, tails twitching. Cows lowed and sheep bleated. Cordelia doubted that she would be surprised to find an elephant among the farm’s residents.

The servant’s gravelly voice floated from the byre, followed by the familiar, educated accent Cordelia had heard twice before. Lord Pettigrew had been somewhat vague when he had written of Dr. Fleming’s background; Cordelia suspected that he knew more than he was willing to tell, but he would surely not have dealings with a man whose past was less than respectable.

The social position of Dr. Fleming’s family was irrelevant to Cordelia’s purpose so long as he could provide the services she required. She turned to make certain that Theodora was behind her and picked her way to the byre’s doors.

“… did you tell her I was in, Benjamin?” Fleming was saying. “I’ve already received three letters from the woman, each one more demanding than the last. I haven’t time to cater to some fine lady’s pampered pets. The very fact that she has come all this way proves that she won’t be dissuaded unless she can be convinced—”

“Convinced of what, Dr. Fleming?” Cordelia said, stepping over the threshold. “That some gentlemen are so averse to human company that they will do anything to avoid it?”

Fleming shot to his feet from his place beside a spindly, spotted calf, and the flare of his green eyes stole the breath from Cordelia’s throat. He opened his mouth to speak, stared at Cordelia’s face, and seemed to forget what he was about to say.

“Ah told ‘er ta bide at t’ ‘oose,” Benjamin said mournfully, sending Cordelia a reproachful look.

His words seemed to shake Fleming from his paralysis. “I have no doubt,” he said. “Mrs. Hardcastle,” he said with a stiff bow, glancing past Cordelia to Theodora. “Miss Shipp. I trust you have not been waiting long.”

Cordelia matched his dry tone. “No longer than expected,” she said. “Have we interrupted you in your work?”

He looked down at the calf pressed against his leg and idly scratched it between the eyes. “Nothing that cannot wait.” He turned to Benjamin. “Put the poultice on his leg as I showed you, and I’ll see to him later.”

“Aye, Doctor.” Benjamin gave Cordelia a final, appraising look and knelt beside the calf. Fleming brushed off the sleeves of his coat—which, like his waistcoat, trousers and boots, was liberally splashed with mud—and started toward the door. Cordelia noted that he wore no cravat, and his shirt was open at the neck, revealing a dusting of reddish brown hair.

His face was as she remembered it, handsome and bronzed by a life spent outdoors. His brown hair was windblown and still in need of cutting. But he could barely restrain a scowl, and Cordelia felt that his slight attempts at courtesy were more for Theodora’s sake than her own.

“I apologize for my appearance,” he said, sounding not at all apologetic, “but I didn’t expect guests. I fear I lack adequate facilities to entertain ladies.”