amanwhocandance
A Man Who Can Dance A Scottish Tale Cathy Maxwell -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- For June Stephenson, Book Guru -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Copyright notice -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Contents 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter One On a fine day in May when the sun was shining and spring had at last arrived, Graham McNab received the news he d worked hard to earn: Edinburgh s finest doctor, Mr. Fielder, was releasing him from his studies.“There s nothing more I can teach you, lad. You ve a gift, a power to heal. Go and use it.“ Mr. Fielder gave Graham a letter of recommendation written in his own hand and a gift of a set of razor-sharp surgical knives. Graham had dreamed of this day since he was a child. He d always been a healer. The other children in the small village where he d grown up had brought their pets to him. Dogs, rabbits, horses, cattle, birds, and a chipmunk—all had been his patients. But it wasn t until his parents had died of the dreaded smallpox and there d been nothing he could do to save them had he decided he must go to Edinburgh to learn the art of medicine. He d been fourteen at the time and had walked to the city from his home, the village of Kirriemuir, begging room and board from his uncle, Sir Edward Brock, in exchange for work in his shipping business. Graham s goal had not been an easy one for a poor highland boy. Edinburgh University had turned up its academic nose at a student who had none of Latin and Greek. And Uncle Edward had been a harsh taskmaster, never missing an opportunity to discourage Graham s dreams of being a doctor. Mr. Fielder s patronage had been a godsend. Graham had toiled nights over shipping ledgers and overseeing his uncle s accounts and his days apprenticed to the wise physician. He d tutored himself in the language of medicine, sometimes going days without sleep. Now, nothing could stop him. He d reached the stars. His destiny lay before him. Shifting his leather bag over to his other shoulder, Graham smiled at the added weight of the new surgical knives. He could not wait to share his news with Sarah, the governess to his uncle s twin daughters, and Graham s closest friend in the household. She would be as delighted as he was. The house came into view. The yellow brick offices and living quarters of Sir Edward Brock were a well known Edinburgh landmark. On the other side of the road were the warehouses and beyond them, the ships that transported goods between Scotland and the world. The road was teeming with activity on such a lovely day. The quayside walk was a popular one among locals. While they strolled and visited, merchants plied their wares and his uncle s ostlers loaded bags of grain onto a wagon or rolled kegs into the warehouse. B