A White Room (36 page)

Richard eyed her quizzically.

“Well, first we send investigators, like Mr. Rippring, to question the woman, midwife, and any accomplices.” Lewis sawed at his meat. “They are all arrested and tried, including the woman who had the procedure, unless she doesn’t survive. To be honest, the entire process is much easier when they die.”

Francis fluttered her eyes, fussed with her napkin, and subtly controlled her breathing.

“Why’s that?” Richard hadn’t taken a single bite of food during the conversation.

Walter kept his eyes on his plate. “The best way to get a conviction is to acquire a dying confession.”

“We usually discover these midwives when something has gone wrong and they are forced to take the woman to a real physician,” Lewis explained. “All physicians know if they do not report the woman, they will be arrested, too.”

“What’s a dying confession?” Richard asked.

“Before the victim dies, she admits to the abortion and whoever is responsible,” Lewis said. “That confession can be used in court like a testimony even if she’s dead.”

“It is the only exception to the hearsay rule,” John added but still glared at me.

“You know, it’s not just abortionists in these rural areas. People are abusing themselves left and right,” Benedict said, lifting his brandy. “I had this patient recently who drank himself to death.

Ethel froze halfway through filling James’ water glass. I dug my nails into my palms and broke skin. I looked at Ethel and tried to apologize with my eyes.

“I agree. I don’t see why these people deserve treatment when they usually cause the problem,” Herbert said.

“Exactly. That’s why I didn’t give him anything for the pain. He got himself in that mess, he should deal with the consequences.”

The ball of Ethel’s chin quivered. She filled the glass the rest of the way, pivoted casually, and slipped out.

Anger overwhelmed me. “You refused to treat?” My voice was louder than I had intended.

Everyone turned toward me. Then they looked back to Benedict for his reply.

He kept eating. “He was too far gone.”

“But you didn’t give him anything for the pain?”

“Darling, I think this is a little out of your depth,” John said, squinting and forcing a smile.

I glared an audacious challenge at him and looked back at Benedict. “It is atrocious to refuse to end a human being’s torment, no matter what.”

Our guests shifted their gazes from me to Benedict.

He didn’t appear to be offended or alarmed, but his eyes focused on me, and I had to fight the urge to shrink away. “Physicians are not blessed with unlimited supplies. The day you have to decide to waste them on a man who destroyed his own body, then you can tell me how to treat.”

I wanted to tell him I had. I wanted to tell him I’d helped the patient he failed. I wanted to scream that I understood the importance of ending someone’s pain far better than he ever could. I wanted to tell him what a despicable human being he was, but I couldn’t. From everyone’s silence, I knew I had already taken it too far. Margaret shook her head just slightly, just enough for me to see. John gripped his silverware. I’d expected the house to find a way to spoil the evening, but it didn’t need to do a thing. I spoiled it all on my own.

After our guests left, Lottie, Ethel, and I descended into the basement and worked by lamplight.

Ethel handed me a dish to dry.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

She continued washing and kept her head down. “Did any of your guests notice?”

“No,” I shook my head. “Dr. Bradbridge didn’t even notice.”

“That was bigwig cruelty at its finest,” Lottie said angrily as she put items in their places with rough shoves and loud clunks.

“I’m not sure he did it intentionally.” I placed the dry dish on a stack and took the next one from Ethel.

“How’s that?” Ethel asked.

“I don’t think he realized he was speaking about someone in the room. I don’t think he recognized you.”

Ethel stopped washing. “It felt like punishment.”

“Don’t think that.”

“At least he didn’t make a racket like that old bat Bradbridge,” Lottie said.

“Sin to Moses!” I said. “When those two started at each other I thought I might faint.”

“Since when do you dine with Olivia Urswick?” Lottie asked. “Ain’t she the one huntin’ us down?”

My eyebrows went up. “John invited her.”

“Did the doctor say something about treating her?” Ethel asked.

“No, but with the way Margaret reacted to Olivia, I wonder if Walter might treat her in secret.…But did you see the way he got all stiff during that fight?”

Ethel pursed her lips and nodded.

The dishes clacked as I stacked them, and I wondered why Lottie seemed quieter than usual.

“Emeline?” Ethel stopped washing and shuffled around. She kept her eyes down and used her finger to trace a circle on her wet palm. “I heard what you said.”

“Said?”

“To Dr. Bradbridge.”

“Oh.”

“Thank you.”

I smiled sheepishly.

She returned to the dishes. “It was a night fit for a loon. You are lucky nobody snapped.”

“Well, I kind of did.”

She grinned over her shoulder.

“I still can’t believe they started talking about abortions at a formal dinner.” I chuckled uncomfortably, feeling as if I shouldn’t have brought it up just then.

Ethel exhaled. “My heart almost stopped.”

“I just hope no one thinks ill of John,” I said.

“All of them said things they shouldn’t at a dinner table,” Ethel said.

Lottie cleaned quickly and quietly. Too quietly for Lottie.

“Lottie? Are you all right?”

“Fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Said I was fine.”

“I only ask because usually you have more input.”

She raised her voice and spoke through clenched teeth. “I’m fine.”

Ethel handed me a slippery dish.

“Been a long night,” she said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“Lottie?”

“Been a long night, and I just wanna finish these big toad dishes and be on my way.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just—”

She put down a bowl, whirled around, and slammed her hand down on the prepping table. “How can I help you, ma’am?”

My dish dripped onto the floor.

Ethel tried, “We just thought—”

“So ya’ll talkin’ ’bout me?”

“No—not at all,” I said.

Ethel shook her head.

Lottie scowled at us as if she had unveiled a plot against her. “It ain’t none of your business, and I don’t want to talk about none of this.”

“Maybe we could help,” I said.

“I ain’t never said I wanted any of your help.” She stepped away from me, closed a jar, moved the empty bowl, and bumped a silver tray. It fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

We all cringed.

Lottie threw her hands up and covered her face.

I walked to her and reached out to touch her arm. “Lottie?”

She ripped her hands from her face and pushed my hand away. “Well, ain’t you got some gall? You know, you ain’t no different. You just another big toad.” She pushed past me and charged up the stairs.

Ethel and I didn’t know what was wrong with Lottie and couldn’t do anything about it until morning, so we finished cleaning, and I instructed Mr. Buck where to take her. Back inside, I rounded the corner and there John stood. I jumped and fumbled to keep the cylinder of my lamp from crashing to the ground. He anchored himself in the hallway, legs parted and arms crossed. “Why did you talk to Dr. Bradbridge that way?”

I lowered my eyes.

“You very well may have ruined me. Do you know that?” He waited for a reply, but I couldn’t form words, and a tingle crept up the back of my spine and scaled my neck. “Do you care?”

“I care.” I feared facing his eyes.

“You didn’t even try tonight.”

“What?” I raised my voice. “I tried everything to keep those people from ripping each other apart.”

He raised his voice louder. “Everything was fine until you started questioning the ethics of one of the most esteemed physicians in Murielle County and my foremost client.”

“Nothing was fine up until that point, and how could I not after what he did? How could you not think the worst of him?”

“My opinion does not matter when it comes to Dr. Bradbridge’s practices, and your opinion least of all. You don’t know anything about medicine or his patients.”

“I—”

“Quiet.” He stepped closer and forced words from behind his clenched teeth. “What made you think you could speak to him—to anyone—like that?”

“I—I don’t know what to say. I tried.”

He hovered over me, silent. “You’ll apologize.”

“But?”

“You will apologize.”

“Yes.”

He stood a moment longer and sighed. “I’m sorry.…Everything was really lovely.” He walked back to the library and shut the door, and I watched the light disappear with him.

Thirty-Five

October 1901

I
woke up intent on seeing Lottie and making amends for the previous night, but when I left the house, I found James sitting like a toad on the front steps. I edged down until I was one step behind him.

He looked back and smiled. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Outside?”

“Whenever I can’t find you, I just go outside and there you are.”

“Not this time.”

“You’re here now, aren’t you?” He grinned.

I didn’t. “Where’s Carmine?”

“Inside. What do you think of her?”

“She’s young.”

“I thought women wanted to marry young.” He stopped grinning as he realized who he was talking to. “Well, most anyway.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and clomped toward the surrey.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’ve barley spoken to me or Carmine since we got here.”

I turned back. “You didn’t even tell me about the wedding.”

“There wasn’t enough time. Besides, you don’t reply to letters anymore.”

“I was upset.”

“I apologize. We came here right after.”

“Another decision you should have informed me of.”

His brow furrowed. “You begged me. Your letter made it sound like you were dying. Now you’re angry I came?”

I gripped my parasol and beaded drawstring purse at my sides. “Are you that dense?”

He grimaced and shook his head slightly.

“I was miserable.” I waved my hand and my purse swung around. “You didn’t do anything.”

He used one hand to push himself to his feet. “If you were so opposed to getting married, you should have said no.”

“No? No! Say no to our mother? To you? To our sisters? How could I? Our family needed this, remember?”

“That’s not my fault.”

I pointed at him with my parasol. “But you convinced me it would be all right.”

He threw his hands up. “I thought it would be.”

“You said you’d come get me.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re a liar.”

“What was I supposed to do?” He took a few steps toward me. “Help you abandon your husband? Help you destroy your life? Help you financially maroon our family?”

“You should have been here for me.”