The Doctor was in his study, going over some "important" papers, as Vashtra had put it. Apparently, there were some things that needed tending to in portions of the Williams estate. From what he could see, it looked to the Doctor that the issues the foremen were complaining about had fairly simple solutions, solutions he took the liberty of writing down in responses to the foremen.
There was a knock on the door. "Come in." The door opened, and Rose, a young lady of twenty years old with blonde hair that wore the same blue dress as all of the other servants at the house, came in with a tray of sandwiches and coffee.
"My mum overheard Madam Vashtra saying something about a rough day, so she made this for ya," she said setting the tray down on the table next to him.
"Thank you, Rose." Nodding her head, Rose left to take care of whatever else she had to do, leaving the Doctor to enjoy his food and finish his own work. In a matter of minutes he was done, so he passed the time by sitting in front of the fire in his favorite arm chair with a book while he ate. His silent reprieve was interrupted, however, when Vashtra entered the room in a hurry.
"Doctor, you wished to be informed of Miss Oswald's progress?" she asked, composing herself a bit.
"That's right. Is something the matter?" The Doctor sat up a bit straighter, afraid that something was wrong with Clara. It wasn't like he thought she was pretty or anything; he was always concerned with the wellbeing of those who worked in his house.
"Martha has just put in a request for antibiotics that can stave off infection. According to her, Miss Oswald has a minor infection due to multiple lacerations on her back that she discovered when she examined her. It is her professional opinion that these lacerations were caused by a slave master's whip."
"Is it anything to be concerned about?" the Doctor asked.
"She doesn't seem to think so. She says that no more than three weeks of rest, food, and antibiotics should bring Clara back to full health. She is currently asleep in her quarters. I must say, she is quite the Impossible Girl."
The Doctor looked at his assistant. "Impossible Girl," he questioned with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, it's a nickname I've developed for her. After all, she has survived against terrible odds."
"Why do I get the feeling that there's more to that nickname?" the Doctor asked suspiciously.
"I cannot answer that, Sir," Vashtra replied. She tried to keep her tone business-like, but the Doctor had known her for too many years. Beneath her sly smile was a secret that she was keeping, one that he would find out if it killed him.
"Well, when she wakes up, let me know. Let her rest, as well. I don't want to see her working until Martha has cleared her for it."
Vashtra nodded her head. "Of course, Doctor." Vashtra looked at the portfolio in her arms. "I also came to tell you that the Celebration Day Ball is coming up in a little more than a month. It has been... requested... by the house of Rassilon that the Williams Estate host it this year."
"By requested, you mean that Rassilon basically invited himself over for a night of partying at our expense."
Vashtra couldn't help but smile a little bit at the Doctor's dry humor. "Essentially, yes. Jenny has volunteered to help me plan it, if that is acceptable."
"Sure, why not. I'll probably just be in here or in my room the whole time anyway."
"Doctor," Vashtra said, reproachfully, "you know that everyone will need to see their host. You've gotten out of attending the other balls in the past, but this year, you will have to interact with everyone."
"Says who? It's my house, and technically, my party, so I don't think Rassilon can have any say in where I am during it."
"Doctor, I know what Celebration Day means to you personally, but I beg of you to move on." Vashtra no longer sounded reproachful. Now she sounded like the friend that she was, trying to help the man who had helped her in so many ways.
"You can't ask me to move on from that," the Doctor growled, no longer looking at her, instead staring into the dancing tongues of fire that provided both heat and light to the room. "You may know the story, but you don't know what my life was like. The only people who can understand are dead. You can't ask me to move on from the hell that I had to live in for so many years."
Vashtra wanted to say more, but she could see in the Doctor's eyes that he had closed the discussion. There would be no more talk, at least not this evening. Dipping her head slightly, Vashtra turned and walked out of the study shutting the door behind her.