The Fire's Center Read Online Free Page B
Author: Shannon Farrell
have been a good nurse."
"I did my best," she said humbly. "Mother had the gift of healing, God rest her."
"Well, I most certainly hope she's passed it onto you. Every day we get more and more fever patients struggling into the cities looking for work or poor relief. I believe the more crowded the conditions, the faster the fever spread. Yet to try to convince some of the more stodgy members of my profession of my opinion, and they act as though I've grown horns and a tail."
Riona laughed despite herself, and lapsed shyly back into silence once more.
Lucien made a few more notes, then looked up at her. "But where are my manners? I'm constantly being berated for forgetting about anything other than my work. Would you like more to drink? I'm sorry there's no food left in the basket, but we'll stop soon."
"I'm fine, thank you."
"I'm sorry there's no glass to drink from."
"It's quite all right. Beggars can't be choosers, as the phrase goes."
His brows knit. "Not any longer. You have a position now for as long as you need it. Or can stomach it. Between fevers and childbirth, you must be exhausted."
She shuddered at the recollection of her sister-in-law's sufferings. She had been unfortunate, she knew, but it was a specter every woman had to face...
"Why don't we talk about something else now," Lucien suggested, noting her increased pallor. "The St. Patrick's holiday has just passed. What special things did you do for the day?"
They continued to make small talk with one another the remaining miles to Strabane.
Riona was astonished at how easy she found it to talk to such a fine gentleman as Lucien Woulfe. He seemed so unaffected, without airs and graces of any kind, though it was evident he was vastly wealthy if the carriage and his clothing were anything to go by.
Lucien, for his own part, was even more astonished at how easy Riona was to converse with. He was able to account for this by observing to himself that since she was of a lower class than himself, it was less threatening than having an unguarded personal conversation with a woman of his own standing. All of them viewed him simply as an incredibly eligible bachelor and a noble enough conquest.
This young woman was a good listener who seemed genuinely interested in all he had to tell her. It wasn't long before he reverted back to his favorite topic and mentioned his new clinic.
From there he began to recount the amount of suffering he had seen since the Famine had started eighteen months before. People had started flocking into the already overcrowded slums of Dublin, the Liberties, to look for work, and that had been when he had felt he simply had to act.
"I've never been to the capital. Tell me about it, Dr. Woulfe."
"People living on the land have no idea what urban deprivation is like. We have factory, brewery and dock workers, all laboring long hours seven days a week. There are swarms of people coming to Dublin looking for jobs and shelter, only to be turned away. Many of them have no skills to speak of, having never known anything other than farm work. With them they bring dirt and disease, yet they are crowded into the slums and workhouses to die.
"I'm sure the dirt is part of the plight. Doctors in the past believed diseases could be transmitted in all sorts of ways, not just by touching. Why couldn’t they be passed along through dirt and bad air, the damp, and the conditions in the streets, which are running with filth, animal and human waste?" Lucien argued.
Riona nodded, listening to his every word with interest.
"People say the potato blight came through the air," Lucien continued. "People reported bad smells, like sulphur, and a black mist. The weather was also particularly wet all of last year. I’ve seen the worst cases of disease in crowded houses where the people are all huddled together for warmth, and the walls are running with damp. It can’t be a
"I did my best," she said humbly. "Mother had the gift of healing, God rest her."
"Well, I most certainly hope she's passed it onto you. Every day we get more and more fever patients struggling into the cities looking for work or poor relief. I believe the more crowded the conditions, the faster the fever spread. Yet to try to convince some of the more stodgy members of my profession of my opinion, and they act as though I've grown horns and a tail."
Riona laughed despite herself, and lapsed shyly back into silence once more.
Lucien made a few more notes, then looked up at her. "But where are my manners? I'm constantly being berated for forgetting about anything other than my work. Would you like more to drink? I'm sorry there's no food left in the basket, but we'll stop soon."
"I'm fine, thank you."
"I'm sorry there's no glass to drink from."
"It's quite all right. Beggars can't be choosers, as the phrase goes."
His brows knit. "Not any longer. You have a position now for as long as you need it. Or can stomach it. Between fevers and childbirth, you must be exhausted."
She shuddered at the recollection of her sister-in-law's sufferings. She had been unfortunate, she knew, but it was a specter every woman had to face...
"Why don't we talk about something else now," Lucien suggested, noting her increased pallor. "The St. Patrick's holiday has just passed. What special things did you do for the day?"
They continued to make small talk with one another the remaining miles to Strabane.
Riona was astonished at how easy she found it to talk to such a fine gentleman as Lucien Woulfe. He seemed so unaffected, without airs and graces of any kind, though it was evident he was vastly wealthy if the carriage and his clothing were anything to go by.
Lucien, for his own part, was even more astonished at how easy Riona was to converse with. He was able to account for this by observing to himself that since she was of a lower class than himself, it was less threatening than having an unguarded personal conversation with a woman of his own standing. All of them viewed him simply as an incredibly eligible bachelor and a noble enough conquest.
This young woman was a good listener who seemed genuinely interested in all he had to tell her. It wasn't long before he reverted back to his favorite topic and mentioned his new clinic.
From there he began to recount the amount of suffering he had seen since the Famine had started eighteen months before. People had started flocking into the already overcrowded slums of Dublin, the Liberties, to look for work, and that had been when he had felt he simply had to act.
"I've never been to the capital. Tell me about it, Dr. Woulfe."
"People living on the land have no idea what urban deprivation is like. We have factory, brewery and dock workers, all laboring long hours seven days a week. There are swarms of people coming to Dublin looking for jobs and shelter, only to be turned away. Many of them have no skills to speak of, having never known anything other than farm work. With them they bring dirt and disease, yet they are crowded into the slums and workhouses to die.
"I'm sure the dirt is part of the plight. Doctors in the past believed diseases could be transmitted in all sorts of ways, not just by touching. Why couldn’t they be passed along through dirt and bad air, the damp, and the conditions in the streets, which are running with filth, animal and human waste?" Lucien argued.
Riona nodded, listening to his every word with interest.
"People say the potato blight came through the air," Lucien continued. "People reported bad smells, like sulphur, and a black mist. The weather was also particularly wet all of last year. I’ve seen the worst cases of disease in crowded houses where the people are all huddled together for warmth, and the walls are running with damp. It can’t be a
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