“Better, thank you,” William replied. “I wish they’d taught me something half as useful in Edinburgh as what your Tom taught you in America. If they had, I’d be a prosperous surgeon by now.”
William may have attended the finest medical school in Europe, but he had lacked the connections and resources to establish his own practice. His older brother, James, had completely overshadowed him with his controversial cures in London and Bath—the most famous of which was the Celestial Bed. For married couples trying and failing to conceive—which was their patriotic duty, according to James—Graham’s contraption （complete with turtledoves, scented bedclothes, and a tilted mattress to put husband and wife at the most propitious angle while they made love） renewed their procreative hopes. James made a fortune from desperate couples, but William’s medical prospects were jeopardized because of it. Fortunately, Catharine Macaulay was one of his brother’s childless patients, and William’s future was assured when they fell in love and married.
“What was Edinburgh like?” Marcus asked. Matthew still promised to send him there one day, as soon as Marcus was mature enough to withstand the anatomy lectures.
“Gray and damp,” William replied with a laugh.
“I meant the university, not the city,” Marcus said, grinning at his friend. He had missed having someone his own age to swap insults and banter with. Marcus and William were both born in 1757. William was now in his early thirties. Whenever Marcus looked at William, he was reminded of what he would be like today if Matthew hadn’t made him a vampire.
“It was tedious and exciting as all courses of study are,” William said, clasping his hands behind his back. “When you go, which I pray will be soon, you must make a point of attending Dr. Black’s chemistry lectures, even though Dr. Gregory will want you on the wards seeing patients.”
“And the lectures in anatomy?” Marcus knew that he must master a wider body of medical knowledge, but surgery remained his first love.
“Dr. Monro has a limitless curiosity and courage when it comes to surgical experimentation. You would be wise to attach yourself to him, and learn all that you can from his methods and discoveries,” William advised.
The prospect of doing so almost made Marcus wish he could remain in England, though of course he must return to France and the Revolution as soon as he could. And there was Veronique to consider.
Marcus and William emerged from the wood and cut east across the fields along Monk’s Alley. Once, the tree-lined lane led to a religious house owned by Reading Abbey, but that house was a crumbling ruin now. William had painted a watercolor of it based on Matthew’s recollections of what it had once looked like, tucked into its green pastures and providing a bucolic retreat for the clerics of the nearby city.
“I suspect your teachers will all be dead and buried by the time I arrive,” Marcus said, elbowing William. “Who knows? You might be a member of the faculty by then.”
“My place is with Catharine,” William replied. “Her work is far more important than mine could ever be.”
At present, Catharine was writing histories of both the successful American, and the budding French, Revolutions. Since Marat’s arrival, Catharine divided her time between asking him questions about what was happening in Paris, and perusing the papers given to her by General Washington when she and William visited Mount Vernon in 1785. Catharine had even interviewed Marcus and Matthew to better understand the events of 1777 and 1781, and had been fascinated by Marcus’s reports of Bunker Hill.
“How did you know that Mrs. Graham was . . .” Marcus trailed off, embarrassed by his own boldness.
“The one?” William smiled. “It was fast—instantaneous, even. People think Catharine is a vain old woman and I am a fortune hunter, but from the moment we first met, I never wanted to be anywhere but by her side.”
Marcus thought of medical school in Edinburgh, and Veronique in Paris. Perhaps she would consider setting up a business in Scotland.
“I’ve heard you talk about the woman you left behind in Paris—Madame Veronique,” William continued. “Do you think she might be your soul mate?”
“I thought so,” Marcus said, hesitant. “Think so.”
“Such a weighty decision must be difficult for a long-lived vampire,” William said. “It is a long time to remain faithful.”
“That’s what Matthew says,” Marcus replied. “He and Juliette have been together for decades, but my father hasn’t mated with her. Yet.” Marcus worried that Juliette might persuade Matthew to take this irrevocable step, though Ysabeau assured him that if they were going to mate, they would have done so by now.