Page 62 of The Not So Perfect Duke

“Can we clear this desk?” Stevenson asked. Corbett immediately snapped into action. “Now, Miss Althea, sit up on the desk with your legs straight out in front of you. Doctor Buchanan will assist you. There. Perfect. Now, Corbett, remove the boots and stockings.”

It was challenging to remember to breathe as the doctor examined the growth. “And it doesn’t hurt when I squeeze it?” he asked.

“No, a little pressure, but no pain,” Althea replied.

“I believe we will need to do a biopsy. Do you know what that is?” Doctor Stevenson asked.

“No. Not really.”

“We have the choice of two options. The image-guided biopsy is very new. We use a shadowgram or x-ray of your leg. It shows the bone beneath the skin and gives us a picture of the growth. Then there is the needle biopsy, where we collect tissue from the growth to study it under a microscope.”

Corbett shook his head. “I have heard stories of this new x-ray, or Röntgen rays, and how it causes burns on the skin and hair loss.”

“I have heard such as well,” Doctor Stevenson replied. “Thomas Edison is working on a similar apparatus. Hopefully, he will make needed improvements.”

“Burns on the skin?” Althea shook her head. “I will forgo the image biopsy.”

“As you wish. I want to be upfront with you, Miss Althea. Doctor Buchanan told me you are strong and have courage to spare. So, I will tell you my experience regarding the growth of this type on the lower leg. They can be malignant. Not always, but possibly, yes. In fact, most are benign. If it is malignant, the good news is this specific tumor does not spread to other parts of the body.”

“This could be cancer, then,” Althea murmured, her insides tumbling.

“Right to the point. Yes, it could be, but possibly not. Malignant tumors generally are painful. But for some reason, these ones on the lower leg often are not. Malignant tumors invade surrounding muscles and nerves. Generally, they are fixed and firm like this one. But as I said, it could also be benign. There is no way to diagnose properly, for these growths are different for every person. It is why curing cancer has been elusive and no doubt will continue to be in the future.”

“Is there a way to be rid of it? You see, my father died of cancer. Is it passed on?” Her voice shook. And her hands trembled as well.

“Doctor Buchanan told me about your father. We have no way of knowing if it is passed on to family members. That is something for future generations to determine. The best cancer treatment—to be rid of it completely—is the knife. But it may not come to that. It will probably not come to that. Yet, you should prepare for that possibility.” The older doctor spoke plainly, but kindly.

“Amputation,” she whispered.

“An absolute worst-case scenario,” Corbett stated. “Even so, the cancer will be gone and rarely returns. Is that not correct, Doctor Stevenson?”

“With these types of tumors on the lower leg? Yes, that has been my experience. It was given a name in ‘85, and it is called Adamantinoma. It is rare, but in the patients that had it, twenty or more years on, they live healthy lives.”

“But without a lower leg,” Althea said in a low voice. “Can you not just remove the growth?”

“It is difficult but not impossible. As I said, it can invade surrounding tissue and muscle,” the older doctor replied. “First, the biopsy. I will immediately set up an appointment at St. Thomas’s and send word through Doctor Buchanan. Should be within a few days or a week at most.” He snapped his case shut. “In the meantime, no unnecessary pressure on the leg. Take care when walking. No running, of course. Would you like me to go into the other room and tell your family everything I relayed to you?”

Althea nodded, unable to speak. Doctor Stevenson’s words were tumbling about in her mind.

Words like malignant, biopsy, and cancer. Amputation.

Doctor Stevenson left the room and closed the door behind him.

Corbett passed her the stockings. “Althea,” he said softly. “If it is cancer, I read the study that Stevenson mentioned. One patient is healthy well into his seventies, and the cancer never returned—not since his amputation at age twenty-five. I know that is no comfort to you. All I ask is that you do not dwell on this until we know for certain. Easy for me to say. You have family and friends who love you and will support you, no matter what.”

An anguished cry came from the dining room—it was Eleanora. And that mournful sound ripped Althea’s heart afresh. Try as she might, as hard as it may be, Althea decided then and there to remain positive. For the doctor did say most of the tumors are benign. Last night would be her moment of grieving and lamenting her fate. Why dwell? Her fate was not sealed, not as yet.

“Thank you, Corbett. You have been a real friend. And I hope that someday you will be part of the family.”

He gave her a warm smile. Corbett was a good-looking man with his closely cropped beard and longish brown hair. Althea could see what attracted Sybil initially.

“I hope the same. If Sybil agrees. I intend to ask for her hand—and the rest of her—very soon.”

Althea chuckled. Then she sobered. “Will you be there for the biopsy?”

“Of course. Whatever you need. Are you going to tell your uncle?”

Oh. Uncle Reece.