arah was walking into the teeth of a chill and blustery wind, but she was relieved to be outside. Even opening the front door to commence her journey had felt like lifting the lid on a boiling pot, venting the pressure that was building up within. An atmosphere of gloom had descended upon No. 52, and from experience Sarah knew it was destined to continue for at least another day or so.
Dr Simpson had a tendency to retreat to his room from time to time, when his reserves of energy and enthusiasm had been drained to the very dregs by what he was forced to confront on a daily basis. She understood there had been a case that had gone badly and for which he blamed himself. In the year or so she had been working at Queen Street, she had learned that Simpson was generous in spreading the happiness of his successes, but the corollary was that his failures he took very much to heart.
So when this outing was suggested, Sarah had seized the opportunity, despite Mrs Lyndsay’s reservations about the propriety of it.
‘Whoever heard of such a thing?’ she had said, kneading dough with a degree of violence provoked by having had her well-developed sense of decorum thus offended. ‘A housemaid accompanying the gentlemen of the house on a walking tour of the city? No good will come of it, you know.’
She would have forbidden it altogether, Sarah had no doubt, but that it was Dr Keith who had requested Sarah’s presence and secured Mrs Lyndsay’s agreement before telling her why he required her. The cook was already simmering that her suspension of Sarah’s clinic duties had been cut short at Dr Keith’s insistence, so Sarah knew she would be made to pay for this later in extra chores and Mrs Lyndsay’s glowering disapproval. Nonetheless, she was determined to enjoy her excursion in the meantime.
Sarah had thought that the walk might provide an opportunity for sharing any new intelligence on the matter of Evie and Rose. She had been attempting to make her way through Christison’s Treatise on Poisons (the book having been surrendered by Raven, who had entirely given up on it) but it was an imposingly weighty volume and her time was limited. She was finding the book fascinating, but her reading so far had failed to shed any light on their particular area of interest. She wished she had all day to study it. How blessed was the lot of a student, she thought.
Raven was unusually quiet, as if the pervading melancholy of the house was proving contagious. He was often sullen, but he usually had something to say for himself, even when it seemed inappropriate; in fact, especially when it seemed inappropriate. He walked beside her in silence, hands in his pockets, kicking at loose stones on the cobbles.
‘How did he talk you into this?’ Sarah asked. She nodded towards George Keith who was striding on ahead, muttering excitedly about the clear conditions and the implications this had for the morning’s events.
‘He thought I was in need of distraction.’
‘Are you?’
‘I suppose I am. I’m beginning to feel that I am in over my head, entering into a profession that is doomed to be forever fighting a losing battle.’
Sarah felt her hackles rise at this pompous perspective, putting himself at the centre of an almighty drama. He was exhibiting the male trait of believing the world revolved around them, usually because it did.
‘That seems a rather self-indulgent interpretation,’ she told him, attempting to keep the annoyance out of her voice, though it was evident enough in her words.
‘What would you know about it?’
‘You forget that some would be happy to have your problems. To be learning a profession,’ she added pointedly.
Raven took on an unusually sheepish demeanour. Unlike some men, at least this indicated he had understood her point.
‘Nonetheless, that doesn’t make it any easier to be every day confronted with suffering and death.’
Sarah looked at his face, the dark circles around his eyes, the scar still livid on his cheek, and felt her anger subside.
‘My grandmother once told me about a king who sought a single thought that would raise his spirits when they were low, but keep him vigilant when he was happy.’
Raven lifted his head, curious if not optimistic about what she might be able to offer.
‘A wise man told the king but four words: “This too will pass.” Dr Simpson won’t remain cloistered in his room for long, and things have been worse than this before now.’
‘In what way?’
‘You’ll have noticed Mrs Simpson is in mourning?’
‘I had not thought black to be the new fashion.’
‘They lost their daughter in February. Mary Catherine. Just before her second birthday. They had already lost their first daughter, Maggie, at the age of four.’
‘What did they die of?’
In other company Sarah would have considered this to be a heartless and insensitive enquiry, but she was sufficiently used to medical men by now that it came as no surprise. It would have been unusual if he had not sought clarification upon this point.
‘Maggie was before my time,’ she replied. ‘Mary Catherine died of scarlet fever. It was awful. She kept crying out for water but couldn’t drink it.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s difficult watching a child die.’
‘It’s difficult watching anyone die, is it not?’
Raven looked pensive. ‘Some deaths are easier than others.’
‘I suppose you’re in a better position to judge, though I have seen my fair share.’
‘Have you, now,’ he said. His tone was distinctly sceptical.
Sarah stopped walking.
‘My mother died in childbirth and my father followed shortly after. Of a broken heart, the doctor said. That is how I came to be working here. I had no one, and our minister knew Dr Simpson.’
Raven had the decency to look contrite.
‘I’m sorry if I seemed insensitive. Hazard of the job.’
They walked on again in silence for a few yards, George Keith pressing on ahead of them up the slope. Despite the cold it was a fine day to be out, as the wind had blown away the fog and the sun was shining from a clear sky. As they ascended Calton Hill, Edinburgh fell away beneath them in all directions. To the north Sarah could see all the way to the Forth and beyond, sails dotted along the water in a procession in and out of Leith. The geometry of the New Town was strikingly vivid from up here too, its layout so precise and uniform in contrast to all the districts that surrounded it. It spoke of order and elegance, but also of rigidity and unbending rules.
When Raven spoke again, his tone was pitched a little brighter.
‘Miss Grindlay seems remarkably unaffected by the prevailing gloom, don’t you think?’
It was true that Mina had been in unusually high spirits for the best part of a week.
‘Why do you think that is?’ he continued.
‘I imagine we have your acquaintance Dr Beattie to thank.’
‘Beattie?’
She could be wrong, but Raven seemed oddly uncomfortable at the mention of his name. She had assumed they were friends, but she knew how medical men were in the habit of falling out.
‘Yes. They have been seeing a great deal of each other.’
Raven nodded to himself. ‘Now that you mention it, I was sure I had smelt his cologne on occasion when I returned from my duties.’
‘I would have thought you more surprised,’ she confessed.
‘Why?’
‘I had not thought Mina the type to take Beattie’s interest. She is older than him and I cannot think that he would want for younger ladies’ affections.’
Raven snorted. ‘Jealous, are you?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. What interest would I have in such a man?’
‘The same interest that a great many women seem to have. As you say, he does not want for younger ladies’ affections.’
‘Jealous, are you?’ Sarah batted back.
Raven ignored this. ‘Beattie is older than he appears, and he told me he has come to find such flirtatious attentions trivial and tiresome. I got the impression that he might have found something in Mina that these other women lack.’
‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘her brother-in-law’s name and the connections attached to it.’
Raven seemed shocked at her bluntness, enough to make her fear she had overstepped the mark.
‘I only say this because I would hate to see Miss Grindlay deceived.’
‘It is not an outlandish suggestion,’ Raven conceded. ‘But equally, though Mina may be in want of a husband, she does not strike me as naive in such matters. What they see in each other may not be what the rest of us assume. She may be aware that the Simpson connection confers certain advantages, but that does not preclude a companionship.’
Sarah frowned. ‘You make it seem like a business transaction. It makes sense but it sounds terribly bloodless.’
‘In marriage, there are worse things to be than bloodless,’ Raven replied.
‘How do you mean?’
She could tell from his eyes that he was not going to elaborate.
‘Let’s just say that while you lost your father too soon, I did not lose mine soon enough.’
As they skirted the Royal Observatory, hurrying to catch up with Dr Keith, Sarah tripped on a loose cobblestone. Raven grabbed her arm to prevent her from falling, keeping hold of it thereafter. His grip was strong and she found she had no objection to it.
‘Do you have an interest in photography?’ he asked.
‘I can’t say that I know much about it, but Dr Keith has been kind enough to show me his daguerreotypes. From his travels in Palestine and Syria.’
‘Lucky you,’ said Raven, smiling for the first time that day.