Chapter 12: Rhododendron, Part 3
He grunted in pain, reeling back, as Blackfield backhanded him.
His spectacles went flying, but Stregoni did not yet go to retrieve them. "If that is how you feel, then I can only say I am sorry for the boy. He does not deserve to suffer like this because you will not listen to me. I have always served you faithfully and reliably."
"My son is still sick, and he grows worse. Doctor William has done better than you."
Stregoni ignored his throbbing cheek, the blood he could feel dripping from his split bottom lip. "He has not, but you are welcome to think as you like. That man," he hissed, pointing at William, "is a charlatan, and I only hope you see reason before you have cause to regret it."
"I think it would be best if you left," Blackfield said.
"Please," Stregoni said, "allow me to finish tending the boy. He needs to be bathed, given tea and broth."
William's hand fell heavy on his shoulder.
Stregoni's temper snapped, and he shoved hard. "Do not touch me," he said.