Chapter 49：DOCTOR'S VISIT

Today his knee was swollen and so painful he could hardly bear to put his weight on it. When he and Annie had arrived at the town house yesterday, Ian had dispatched a note to his brother. He had known that Dare would come to town as soon as he could. He hadn't realized, however, that the Earl would leave the Sinclair estate immediately upon receiving his message. Dare had arrived in London before dawn, and as soon as he realized Ian had been hurt, he had sent for McKinley. Had it not been for the doctor's support of Ian's request for privacy, he knew that his brother would have been in the room while McKinley made this assessment. And Ian was very reluctant to have him see the current damage. "Of course, since you seldom follow the advice of your physicians, Mr Sinclair," McKinley went on, "I have little hope that you will give this the time it needs to heal."

"I assure you, Dr McKinley, I have lived most sedately since we last talked."

"Forgive me, sir, if I beg to doubt that claim. The evidence to the contrary is, after all, before my eyes. Do you mind telling me exactly how you managed to break your ribs and bruise your back in this fashion? That question is simply medical curiosity, I assure you. If you choose to kill yourself, it is really nothing to me."

Ian laughed, and then wished he hadn't. He couldn't prevent a small gasp at the resulting shard of agony in his side. 

"It's your brother I am sorry for," McKinley continued, as if he hadn't heard that telltale inhalation. "He has no idea, of course, that if you continue in this fashion he may lose you. I believe his affection for you to be quite genuine. I've a good mind to tell him exactly what a fool he has for a brother."

"You will find he is well aware of that," Ian said, smiling as he remembered Dare's comments the last time he'd been injured. 

Apparently his voice revealed his amusement about those remarks, for McKinley said stiffly, "It seems that the concern the Earl and u have for your continuing survival is not one you share. Rather, it is cause you mockery. I wonder why you would call in a physician if you care so little for your life."

Hearing the undisguised anger in the doctor's tone, Ian feared he had thoroughly alienated the man, perhaps enough to drive him to speak to Dare about the danger of that piece of shrapnel lodged in his chest. And there was nothing, of course, that Ian desired less than that disclosure. Especially now. 

"My ward and I were attacked."

The remembrance was certainly enough to destroy any lingering remnants of amusement in his tone. 

"Attacked?" McKinley repeated in disbelief. 

Using the post of the bed he had been holding on to for balance while the doctor carried out his examination, Ian turned to face the physician, whose features reflected the same shock his voice had just conveyed. 

"On a street in this city. A sweep was beating one of his climbing boys, and Miss Darlington, who is both impetuous and courageous, intervened. For some reason, things very quickly got out of hand. The mob that had gathered to watch the sweep's punishment turned ugly."

"And attacked you?"

"My ward was attempting to take the boy away from his master. There seemed to be some resentment about interference in his livelihood, and it... Boiled over. That's the only explanation I can make for what occurred."

"You will find no disagreement from me with either of those opinions, Dr McKinley."

"And then you, of course, felt compelled to rush to her defence, despite... Despite the risks," the doctor amended, thankfully leaving unsaid warning he'd made the last time he had examined Ian. "Impetuous and courageous, indeed."

McKinley's eyes continued to examine Ian's face as, still holding to the bedpost, his patient eased his battered frame down to the edge of the high mattress. 

"And apparently a lightning rod for trouble," the doctor went on. "This is the same ward, I take it, in whose company you were attacked by highwaymen."

"I have only one," Ian said, his lips lifting into another remembering smile. 

"Lucky for you, I should think," McKinley said. "Otherwise, I should indeed worry about your survival."

*~*~*~*

The doctor had finished and gone, leaving Ian once again to his bed, thoroughly exhausted by the ordeal. At least his ribs were now tightly strapped, and as McKinley had promised, they were less painful. With the heavy dose of laudanum he had insisted Ian drink, even the agony in his knee was beginning to dull to something bearable. 

He had expected Dare's visit from the moment of the physician's departure. Perhaps his brother had accompanied McKinley to the door, asking him the kind of probing questions Ian had managed to avoid for the last year and a half.