Chapter 14

fourteen

“ H ow’s the soup, Ash?” Finn teased as they sat at a table in the corner of the hotel dining room having lunch.

Trudy’s brother looked up as potato chowder dribbled down his chin. He was having a bit of trouble navigating a spoon around his still-swollen lip, but tried to grin, nonetheless.

“It’s delicious,” he answered brashly. “And it smells divine, which you would know if your nose wasn’t the size of a donkey’s.”

“Better to look like a donkey than a largemouth b …ass,” Finn replied casually, slurping soup from his own spoon.

“Boys,” Trudy admonished quietly, although she was glad they were both in good humor.

It had been two days since the scavenger hunt ended in debacle, with Ellis leaving in a huff and the younger boys both leaving with bloodstains on their shirts. Trudy had tended to their wounds and spent the rest of the day handing dry handkerchiefs to a distraught Coco.

Although Trudy’s patience for her sister’s tears was usually low, on this occasion, she felt sincerely sorry for her. Not in a patronizing or pitying way, but rather in a loving, sisterly way. The humiliation of being disqualified from the race by Mr. Plank was obviously weighing heavily on her, especially since Coco had played no part in the cheating but was considered guilty simply by association.

Trudy felt a little guilty, too. She was supposed to be watching out for her siblings until their parents arrived, after all, and thus far, she’d done a spectacularly abysmal job of it.

Dear Mother and Father,

In a valiant attempt to maintain the moral high ground, Asher’s lip met with an unexpected fist while Coco received a second dose of humiliation. I’m certain her subdued demeanor will be a temporary phase.

Meanwhile, Lucy’s prowess with a bow and arrow remains stellar. While she is hunting hay bales, I am preoccupied with hunting ghosts…

“A good day to you, Dr. Hart.”

Trudy looked up from her lunch plate to see a smiling Mrs. Hobbs and her stout-bodied husband strolling past their table.

“Good day to you, Mrs. Hobbs, Mr. Hobbs,” she replied, recalling their chaotic and haphazard introduction during the scavenger hunt as their team and Trudy’s briefly formed an alliance to solve a particularly difficult clue which ultimately led them to a spittoon in the cigar lounge.

“Craic of a time the other day,” Mr. Hobbs remarked. “Tippett outdid himself with that diversion, wouldn’t you say?”

“I would, indeed,” Trudy replied.

As the couple moved on, she sent up a silent prayer of gratitude. Thanks to Mr. Plank’s generous and seemingly iron-clad discretion, not to mention Alex’s harshly worded warning that no one was to speak of the incident in public, Ellis’s poor judgment remained a private Bostwick family matter. They certainly didn’t need the added scandal, nor did Trudy want her own family linked to the incident, even when they’d been on the side of honesty and integrity. Stories such as these often led to added speculation from which no one benefited, but thus far, it seemed nary a whisper of Ellis’s cheating had reached the ears of any hotel guests.

That included Aunt Breezy for which Trudy was doubly grateful. Asher’s split lip and Finn’s broken nose, along with his accompanying black eyes, had been explained away as an incident of overzealous, boyish rough housing—which no one had trouble believing—so it seemed the entire episode could be placed firmly in the past.

“Miss Hart,” Mr. Plank said enthusiastically as he arrived at their table minutes later. “I have some news I think will please you.”

Trudy, Lucy, Coco, and Poppy all looked at him expectantly, and he chuckled.

“Miss Lucy Hart,” he clarified.

Lucy dabbed her mouth with a linen napkin. “News for me, Mr. Plank?”

“Yes, indeed. Do you recall the other day when you asked if there were any telescopes at the hotel and I regrettably informed you that there were not?”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Plank, but please don’t trouble yourself about it. I can manage without one for a few months.”

He shook his head. “I cannot hear of it. At my Imperial Hotel, Miss Hart, no one should ever have to manage without anything. I sent Mr. Tippett to the mainland yesterday and he was able to procure not one, but five telescopes!” Mr. Plank held up a hand with his fingers splayed as if to emphasize the quantity.

“Five, sir?” Lucy asked, looking momentarily confused. “Your gesture is so very kind, but… I only have one set of eyes. I’m sure I don’t need so many telescopes.”

Hugo laughed at her response. “One set of eyes! You’re a delight, Miss Hart. Of course, I realize you can only gaze through one at a time, but it occurred to me that if you have an interest in the night sky, there are likely other guests at the hotel with a similar fascination. With five telescopes set up in a row on the lawn, we can make star gazing a social event. I’ve even taken the liberty of sending a letter to Mr. Edward Singleton Holden at the University of California asking if he knows of any impending astronomical events so we might plan a celestial soiree, as it were. I’ve not heard back yet but I’ll be sure to keep you informed.”

“A celestial soiree?” Daisy said, clapping her hands together. “How adorable.”

“What’s a celestial soiree?” Poppy asked.

“It’s a party to look at the stars,” Coco responded.

Poppy appeared dubious. “A party to look at the stars? Is that something Sir Chester might attend?”

“Sir Chester may not attend,” Trudy answered immediately. “If he got lost in the dark we would never find him.”

Poppy’s smile was prim, her voice polite as she replied, “Well, in that case, please accept my regrets, Mr. Plank. If Sir Chester VonWhiskerton is not allowed to attend this celestial soiree, I shall not attend either.”

He gazed at her with much the same practiced expression of disappointment that he used with Aunt Breezy.

“You and Sir Chester will be sorely missed, Miss Hart,” he responded with a perfunctory bow. “But I trust this idea meets with your approval, Miss Hart?” His gaze returned to Lucy, his smile returning.

“Gracious me, Mr. Plank. Of course. You are entirely too generous,” Lucy responded, her eyes bright with excitement. “I certainly didn’t intend for you to put forth such effort.”

“It was entirely my pleasure.”

“Might the telescopes be ready to use by this evening?” she asked tentatively.

“Not by this evening. We had to order them from Chicago so it may be a week or so, but as soon as they arrive and are set up, you’ll be the first one I notify.”

“Thank you, Mr. Plank,” Trudy added. “You are, indeed, too kind. In every way.” Her glanced flickered over to her brother and Finn, then back to Mr. Plank who nodded in comprehension.

“Think nothing of it, Dr. Hart. I aim to keep all my guests happy and blissfully… content.”

She smiled at his innuendo. Blissfully content or blissfully ignorant? Either way, she appreciated his dedication to keeping the whole ugly situation under wraps.

“And might I add, I spoke with Mr. Dunlap yesterday,” Mr. Plank continued. “He was singing your praises, Dr. Hart. Apparently you provided medical care when he was in desperate need?”

Trudy offered a single nod. “It was a very minor issue and easily remedied.”

“Well, nonetheless, he was most grateful,”

“I’m glad to hear that, Mister Plank.”

“In fact, I wonder if I might speak with you privately when you have a moment,” Mr. Plank continued. “About another medical matter that has recently come to my attention.”

“Of course,” she replied, wondering if she was about to learn that the hotel owner needed to eat more apples and figs.

“It’s nothing urgent,” he added. “But perhaps you could stop by my office after lunch? The conversation should not take long.”

“I’d be happy to, Mr. Plank.”

“Excellent. In that case, please do carry on with your meal. And if you’re in the mood for dessert, I highly recommend Mrs. Culpepper’s tipsy cake, or perhaps the lemon tart. You cannot go wrong with either.”

With another slight bow, Mr. Plank departed, and Lucy turned to Trudy excitedly. “Five telescopes? Can you imagine?”

“It doesn’t surprise me in the slightest,” Daisy responded with humor. “Mr. Plank never does anything halfway. He is the master of excess, but I am very much looking forward to a celestial soiree. What does one wear to such an event, I wonder?”

As the younger girls began to talk of fashion, and Finn and Asher began plotting an afternoon of fishing near the boat docks, Trudy’s thoughts turned to what Mr. Plank might want to discuss with her.

An hour later, she was rapping lightly on the half-open door of his office to satisfy her curiosity.

He was sitting at a desk littered with papers, along with stacks of architectural journals, rolled up documents, newspapers, and various and sundry office items. Like many men of vision, Mr. Plank appeared to have no sense of organization.

“Ah, Dr. Hart,” he said, looking up from his desk. “Please, do come in.” He gestured for her to take a seat in the chair opposite him, which she did after stepping around several stacks of books, papers, and journals.

“You don’t ever smoke in your office, do you, Mr. Plank?” she asked, settling into the chair.

He looked confused by the question, then laughed aloud as he caught her meaning.

“I do not, Dr. Hart. I don’t smoke anywhere. I never caught the taste for it.” He rose and crossed the room to shut the door.

“What might I be able to do for you?” Trudy asked as soon as he regained his chair.

“I am interested in your opinion,” he responded.

“My opinion, sir? On what matter?”

“Mrs. Bostwick came to me recently. Mrs. Jo Bostwick, with complaints pertaining to Dr. Prescott. She informed me that many of my employees, especially my female employees, are uncomfortable with him. She says they find him dismissive, rude, intransigent, and even uncaring, and I wondered your thoughts on that.”

She pondered his question for a moment. Even though her immediate thought was to simply agree with Jo and tell Mr. Plank that Dr. Prescott was all of those unpleasant things, she took the time to choose her words carefully.

“I’ve only encountered Dr. Prescott once, after the bicycle race,” she finally said. “I did feel he was rude to me personally, but I assumed his attitude had more to do with the fact that I am a woman doctor. However, I was disheartened to learn from Mrs. Bostwick that he treated his patients with equal disdain. And while I confess it’s not uncommon for physicians such as Dr. Prescott to be patronizing to their female patients, it is my frank opinion that a physician must listen to what a patient is telling them instead of making assumptions or dismissing their concerns out of hand.”

“I see,” Mr. Plank said, his brows furrowing.

“And since you have asked my opinion, I must inquire, did Mr. Dunlap tell you he’d consulted with Dr. Prescott before coming to me?”

His head tilted slightly. “He did not.”

“According to Mrs. Dunlap, Dr. Prescott advised her husband to take a dose of castor oil even though Mr. Dunlap had informed the doctor that castor oil made it difficult for him to breathe. That isn’t simply disdain or dismissiveness, and although I hesitate to use the term since it sounds rather dramatic, one might potentially consider that to be medical malpractice.”

Mr. Plank’s brows rose considerably, and he leaned back in his chair. “Good heavens. He’s as bad as all that?”

“Perhaps Mr. Dunlap wasn’t clear with his concerns. You should probably speak with him on the matter, but my impression is that Dr. Prescott is, as you say, intransigent. However, I must add I have not seen him interact with any patients. All of this is based on what others have told me, although I certainly trust Mrs. Bostwick’s opinion.”

“As do I,” he said. “But this does leave me in a bit of a conundrum. Prescott’s contract ensures him two years of employment at the Imperial Hotel.”

“I see,” Trudy responded. “Does that contract guarantee him a salary is based on the amount of time spent here or is it based on the number of patients he is able to treat?”

Mr. Plank considered this. “I’d have to check to be certain, but I believe he’s paid the same for his time whether he treats anyone or not.”

“In that case, it seems he’s taking advantage of you,” Trudy said. “He’s here as stipulated, but if half your employees refuse to see him, and he’s providing shoddy care to your guests, then you are paying him more than he’s worth.”

Mr. Plank looked both disappointed by what she said yet also impressed by her grasp of the situation.

“That is a very interesting insight, Dr. Hart. I would not have looked at the matter from that angle. How fortuitous that I asked you.”

“I’m always happy to share my opinion. Although I’m seldom asked for it,” she said, smiling.

He smiled back, but added, “I only wish someone had brought the matter to me sooner. I knew Prescott was gruff, of course, but I had no idea he was this bad. I was rather proud of myself for providing free health care to my employees, but it seems I’ve missed the mark.”

“Your gesture is commendable, Mr. Plank,” she said earnestly. “I don’t know of many employers who give a single thought to the health and welfare of their staff. In fact, I suspect a number of your Imperial guests are wealthy businessmen who are not nearly as conscientious as you are.”

Trudy knew from working in her father’s clinic that most business owners focused on their financial ledgers while ignoring the working conditions their employees faced on a daily basis. Industrial accidents, lung conditions, exhausted children forced to work for hours at a time provided her with a steady stream of patients. She could alleviate some of their suffering but could only treat their symptoms while the disease of greed and neglect ran rampant.

“I can’t speak for other business owners,” Mr. Plank said. “But here at the Imperial Hotel, we are a family. An odd sort of family, but a family, nonetheless.”

“I’m glad to hear you feel that way, Mr. Plank,” she said. “I’m just not sure Dr. Prescott espouses the same philosophy of respect toward people that you do.”

“I’m beginning to suspect he does not.” He leaned forward and tapped his fingers against the desk for a moment as if deep in thought.

“I wonder, Dr. Hart…” He paused, regarding her carefully. Her curiosity piqued at his lengthy pause.

“Yes, Mr. Plank?” she finally promoted.

“I wonder if I might impose upon you… No, never mind. This is your summer holiday.”

She sensed he was toying with her. Luring her in by building suspense. She’d seen what a showman he was. He wanted her to ask. And so, she did. Reluctantly.

“Impose upon me in what way?”

He spoke slowly, as if the words were hard to say. “If, by chance, there are hotel employees or guests not in favor of seeing Dr. Prescott, might they come to you? Only in cases requiring immediate attention, of course. For milder ailments they can wait until Dr. Hargrove is available, or they can take their chances and see Dr. Prescott.”

Take their chances? That was not a method by which to choose one’s physician. Medicine was a science, not a casino.

At her hesitation, he added, “I’m not suggesting you take on the role of Doctor Prescott, of course. As I said, I’m referring to matters of an urgent nature where he might not provide appropriate care. Naturally, I’d compensate you accordingly, and this would only be until I can make arrangements to secure another physician.”

His suggestion seemed a slippery slope. This was her summer holiday, after all, and she’d already treated no less than three Bostwick’s, her own brother, and a constipated Mr. Dunlap. If she hung out a shingle at this hotel, even a subtle one, people would be pestering her every day.

Then again… she couldn’t help but consider how kindly and strategically Mr. Plank had handled the situation with Ellis’s cheating, not to mention the five ( five!) telescopes he’d just purchased for the sake of her sister’s enjoyment, or the indulgent, endearing way he interacted with Poppy. And Sir Chester VonWhiskerton!

All things considered, Trudy could hardly say no.

“Of course, Mr. Plank. I’d be happy to lend a hand.”

He placed his palms flat on the desk. “Thank you, Dr. Hart. I appreciate your willingness to help me look after my staff. We can work out the details later but please give some thought to what compensation you think would be appropriate. In the meantime, if anyone else shares concerns with you regarding Dr. Prescott’s care, please send them to me.”

He stood up and Trudy realized this conversation had ended. That was just as well, she supposed. She had a dozen questions but some time alone to reflect on them would be advantageous. She could come back to him with a written list when she’d gathered her thoughts. And caught her breath!