The Doctor's Daughters

The Doctor's Daughters

a sequel to The Doctor's Daughter

Chris Kalyta

Published by Chris Kalyta at Smashwords

Copyright 2017 Chris Kalyta

Cover image copyright werner22brigitte at Pixabay

ISBN 978-0-9916897-8-1

Discover other titles by Chris Kalyta at Smashwords.com or http://www.chriskalyta.ca

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Table of Contents

Prologue

1. Doctor Aimes returns home

2. Cast out

3. An unhappy return to Fort George

4. Wants and needs

5. Captain Christian's advice

6. To Mr Brown's ball

7. William and Barbara begin their ruse

8. Captain Orr and Abigail dance

9. Captain Orr's search for the spy

10. A visit to Queenston

11. After church, Doctor Aimes is needed in Queenston

12. Murder

13. Captain Orr questions Prescott

14. A chance encounter with Captain Christian

15. Questions for Mr Leeds

16. Abigail and Lieutenant Prescott

17. Captain Orr Interrogates merchants in Queenston

18. Barbara and Abigail have a talk

19. Captain Orr visits the Shawnee and learns of a second murder

20. Mr Willcocks pays Abigail and Barbara a visit

21. Lieutenant Prescott delivers the messages

22. Captain Orr's time is running out

23. Captain Christian calls on Abigail and Barbara

24. Investigating the second killing

25. Update on the search for the spy

26. Barbara's cleverness

27. To the ball at Fort George with Mr Brown

28. Barbara puts her plan into action

29. Calamity

30. Barbara's fury overshadows that of the storm's

31. Captain Orr and Abigail find each other

32. Abigail is returned home

33. Abigail decides to prove her worthiness

34. A new day dawns for Captain Orr

35. Abigail goes to Newark in secret

36. Lieutenant Prescott's discovery

37. The hunt for the spy

38. Confrontation

39. Barbara's plans come to fruition

40. A woman, yet still a girl at heart

About Chris Kalyta

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The Doctor’s Daughters

Prologue

It was at a very late hour that chilly night in November of 1812 when the two men met at the arranged place by the Niagara River, both huddled in their great coats against the cold and to hide their identities from any who were about. The military man — an American officer of considerable rank by the make of his coat, his associate reasoned — stood straight and tall with the confidence of youth, though shuffling his feet and blowing warm air into his hands like a man of middle age. The other man shrunk into his own coat, seeking warmth and security while they both stood under the drooping branches of a weeping willow.

Well? demanded the American. I’ve dared much, crossing the Niagara River to come speak with you!

And it is going to be well worth your while, my friend, purred the other. His hand extended from the folds of his coat, revealing a rolled parchment. The American grabbed it and thrust it into his own coat, not even trying to peer at the document in the dim light of the waning half-moon.

What have you given us?

A map, one detailing troop positions and planned patrols, including those of the Indians.

Are there any of those savages about? asked the officer, opening his greatcoat and grasping the grip of his sword.

None! But, muffle your voice! cautioned the other. He glanced over his shoulder at the small town of Queenston, with its beckoning hearth-fires, and briefly thought of the serving girl at the inn. She would be waiting for him, but had he said too much to her? There shouldn’t be anyone about, but there are eyes and ears everywhere.

And why have you offered this to us? A man of your position?

Upper Canada cannot hold out against the American forces. The natives are unreliable and there is no-one to take up Brock’s mantle. With this intelligence you could launch another invasion into British North America and gain a foothold. Just as your Thomas Jefferson foretold: conquest would be a mere matter of marching.

The American arched an eyebrow and scrutinized the man he’d been sent to deal with. You strike me as the type of man who would hold something back to secure his best interests. I’d wager that you do not surrender your secrets, or trust, easily. The American officer had little liking for this turncoat, even if he was going to help him win the war against England.

A wise man keeps his treasures well hidden. There is more, much more. All the information I have for you would let your armies sweep these colonies away in a tide of red blood. I will give this information to you, in exchange for an understanding that I have been a friend to the American people...and the due consideration that follows once you have brought liberty to these lands.

The military man scowled. I would win as Brock did in Detroit, bloodless and complete, rather than leave a trail of corpses behind me. I’m no butcher.

But your superiors, the ones who sent you here, reminded the other, are in need of a decisive victory to appease the War Hawks in Washington. Pass on what I have handed you, and remember that it was my loyalty to your cause that gave you the glory you seek. When the time arrives I am sure that your superiors will be most eager to compensate me accordingly.

The traitorous man slunk away in the darkness, returning to the promise of warmth and companionship in the nearby Upper Canadian town, and the American officer let him go without another word. There were few men that the Yankee had been truly disgusted by, but this turncoat was one of them. However, the general had sent him into enemy territory to determine what this traitor might provide in the way of intelligence and, having seen the man, the officer now knew the information could be of great military value.

He blew warm air into his hands once more, then turned and headed back to the river, the boat and two river men that hopefully was still concealed in the bushes there. He liked this not at all. Yet, the traitor of Upper Canada was correct that those safely in Washington would be overjoyed by what this vile man offered.

This damn war! The officer had friends in Upper Canada! And now they were enemies! He shook his head in disgust. The turncoat he had just been conversing with deserved nothing more than a long drop with a rope about his neck, yet the dishonourable man would likely be richly rewarded when the time came. And many innocent people in Upper Canada would die, soldiers and civilians alike.

Chapter 1

Captain Lawrence Orr reflected on the fact that he had yet to prove himself in his new rank, having been promoted just a scant few days before. He sat convalescing upon a chair, on the sturdy wood porch at the house of Doctor Aimes, and thought on how close he had come to dying less than a month ago due to injuries received at the Battle of Queenston Heights. Muskets and cannons fired by the American invading force had almost spelled his doom, and would have if two well-meaning yet ignorant soldiers had not dragged his half-dead body to this isolated home well away from the small hamlet of Queenston. And, his stay here had proven his salvation. He had kept his leg thanks to the skilful ministrations of the fetching Miss Abigail Aimes. Though he had yet to meet Doctor Aimes he was well acquainted with the man’s daughters — too well acquainted he recalled with narrowed eyes and a brief bout of self-loathing.

Squirrels busied themselves in the yard, sifting through crackling, curled and multi-hued leaves that lay across much of the cleared lawns. Lawrence looked up into a blue sky. Back in England the beginning of November would be warmer than it was here in the Canadas and, even as far from the Arctic as the Niagara Peninsula was, clouds at this time of year threatened snow all too often. A raptor soared across the clear sky and the squirrels froze then scampered off to the safety of their trees.

In the distance a horse whinnied. Lawrence paused in the sudden silence that followed and made out the sound of horse’s hooves and a squeaky axle, announcing that a cart was making its way along the track toward the large clearing in which the house stood.

He steeled himself for the coming discussion. Cannons and muskets did not shrink Lawrence’s heart, but the idea that Abigail’s father would find him an unworthy suitor for his eldest daughter terrified him. He’d left Abigail alone in the house, to prepare for her father’s arrival and to make the situation appear more seemly. Doctor Aimes had been absent for but a few weeks; since the October thirteenth battle in which both Major General Isaac Brock, the defender of Upper and Lower Canada, had been slain and Lawrence had been gravely wounded. In those three weeks, Lawrence had almost fully recovered from his near-mortal injuries under the expert care of the wise and lovely Miss Abigail Aimes, had conducted a brief affair with the younger and beautiful Barbara Aimes, and had then come to the belated realization that Abigail was the woman he truly loved. They had shared their feelings, and a bed, for the first time just last night.

He cursed himself again for not having seen the truth earlier. The evidence had all been there, yet he had been blinded into believing that the younger Miss Aimes was the skilful nurse and the elder Miss Aimes was but her maidservant. He cursed himself anew over how easily the innocent Barbara had seduced him, believing that he had been falling in love with her.

A horse-drawn wagon came into view as it rounded a thick copse of leafless white birch. At the reins was an older man, mutton chopped and well-dressed — at least by colonial standards. Miss Barbara Aimes sat beside her father, waving eagerly at Lawrence. The man wore a heavy coat while his nineteen-year-old daughter had a fine travelling cloak wrapped about her, suitable for the turn in the weather. The horse’s breath puffed out in small clouds as it laboured toward its home.

The Captain grabbed his cane and stood with a little difficulty, as the cooler air had begun to make his leg ache a little, then waved back at the duo in as neighbourly and relaxed a fashion as he could muster. It was difficult to conceal his eagerness to talk with Abigail’s father and he found himself surrendering to the impulse enough to walk down to the gate to meet them. He had never been an impatient man yet the hope of a future with Abigail by his side made him impetuous.

You are Captain Lawrence Orr, sir? The soldier my Abigail has been doctoring? asked Doctor Aimes, as he pulled on the reins and brought the wagon to a gentle stop.

Lawrence made his way around the wagon to offer Barbara a hand down to the ground, as he mulled over Doctor Aimes’ use of the term soldier. Yes, sir. I’m the officer that owes my life to the skill and wisdom of your eldest daughter. He quickly checked his temper. It is good to see you again, Miss Aimes, he offered, formally polite.

And it is pleasing to see you again, sir. She shot a furtive glance toward her father who stared at Lawrence with some curiosity and suspicion. And how fares my sister, Captain? I trust you have taken things in hand? she added with a whisper, brushing some strands of blonde hair that a wayward breeze had tugged free of her bonnet.

A smile crossed Lawrence’s face before he could stop it. Your sister was quite well in health and spirit when I last spoke with her...over breakfast.

Doctor Aimes cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the familiarity between one of his daughters and this gentleman that was practically unknown to him. Enough fraternization, Barbara. I mean to examine the patient and send him back to his duties sooner rather than later. They have desperate need of him.

Lawrence bowed to his host. I am at your service, sir.

Doctor Aimes led them into his house, where Abigail rushed to the door and embraced her father, much to his surprise. She stepped back, suddenly unsure of herself, and Lawrence mused that it was likely she had been the less emotionally expressive of the two Aimes sisters, at least until now. Just as she had brought a change in him, Lawrence had opened her heart after a lifetime of responsibility and duty. I am very glad to see you, Father. Her eyes warily shifted around the trio. Barbara and I have been most concerned about you, as close as you were to the conflict...

Bah! I’d thought you the level-headed one, girl. He took her hands in his and stared into her face with a look of pure compassion. I am pleased to see you well, Abigail. Then, he released her. The captain and I will require some time alone in my study.

As the doctor turned his back to them, Lawrence nodded at Abigail. This action was spied by Barbara, who smiled, squeezed her sister’s arm and then struggled to conceal her happy laugh. Doctor Aimes turned back briefly to cast a frustrated look toward Barbara then opened the door to his study, inviting the officer in. Lawrence followed the doctor into his study and the heavy door was shut with a firm thump, much to Abigail and Barbara’s consternation.

Chapter 2

You have been a foolish girl, chided Abigail, as the two sisters slipped quietly into the kitchen. The elder sister refused to look Barbara in the eye. The room was very orderly and freshly cleaned, which was no surprise to the younger Aimes sister. Abigail, she thought, never had so much as one light brown hair out of place, even at the worst of times.

I have? Barbara’s mouth dropped open in surprise at her elder sibling’s admonishment. She removed her travelling cloak and set it over a chair, then pushed a wayward strand of blonde hair back under her bonnet. With a roll of her eyes, Abigail picked up the discarded cloak. No, stated Barbara, ’tis my cloak so let me dispose of it.

Abigail watched in wonder as her younger sister actually performed a household chore without the need for repeated chiding beforehand. While tucking a cloak away in the wardrobe was a simple task, Barbara had sat idle for years while the elder Aimes sister had done all the family’s cleaning and cooking.

What cause have you to chide me for being a foolish girl... Barbara’s voice dropped off as she realized what she was saying. I mean, sister, what recent act have I done that makes you think I am foolish.

You seduced him! hissed the elder sister. She tugged at her own light brown hair and still would not look Barbara in the eye.

I admitted this much to you before I departed to collect Father. Lawrence would make any woman an ideal husband, so you have no reason to label me a fool simply because I used what tools I have to lure him. And, as you well know, I had thought he had feelings for me and I, she raised her chin, ...I did as I saw fit to establish a happy future for myself. Then she nodded at her sister, for emphasis.

A courtship does not begin with premarital intimacy!

Barbara’s eyes flashed. If you have not taken advantage of my absence these last two days, sister, then I will call you a fool to your face. As I informed you: I was leaving the two of you in seclusion so you would become better acquainted.

Better acquainted? Abigail stuttered, then grabbed a pot from the stove and headed outside through the rear door of the house. Barbara followed her, then worked the pump for her sister — again to Abigail’s surprise.

You have availed yourself of the opportunity, have you not Abigail? Lawrence’s heart was always yours, even when he and I briefly thought it belonged to me. Abigail did not respond to the question. Oh! You call me fool, yet I have charted my course and set my sails whilst you busied yourself baking cookies and worrying over the larder! Why could you not cast yourself on the wild seas and live? Must you always be so proper? So obedient?

Your maps are faulty and lead you to an end you shall not like! countered Abigail.

At least I live! Sister, why could you not have taken him in your arms and enjoyed what time you were given? Don’t you know that we have but a fleeting time on this mortal world? We have heard so often enough in that boring old church! Lawrence lives and breathes, and he was here, alone with you in our home all night, yet you cowered on your bed with your sheets pulled over your head!

I did not cower in my bed... Abigail whispered.

Then you did...! Barbara released the pump handle, tightened her hands into fists and spun on the spot. Oh, you finally cast aside fear and doubt, and took a plunge!

The elder Aimes sister remembered her fear, her uncertainty, and then her heathen pleasure at the intimacies she had shared with Lawrence during the night. Momentarily, she was lost in the recollection of his firm hands guiding and caressing her, his lips brushing against her shoulder, her neck, and her