6
Distillery Hospital, 24 February 1871
Claire took a deep breath. This was it, her chance to impress Doctor Chadwick Radcliffe and justify her presence at the hospital, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. She shut it and swallowed, but her tongue felt too big for the space between her teeth. His momentary shyness and stumbling over his implied impropriety had felt familiar.
“Are you all right, Doctor McPhee?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Just thirsty, I suppose.” She shrugged. “Breakfast was saltier than I’m used to.” She put a hand over her stomach, which had felt unsettled since she walked into the office.
“Yes, they’re a big fan of their bacon here.” He picked up one of the charts. “Let’s get back to your mission. You said you’re on a grant to study a therapeutic technique ba
