Eight
Somewhere between his insistence in helping with her patient and his extremely heavy-handed effort to help her protect herself, Aurora came to terms with the fact that Apollo César Sinclair Robles might not be the bastard she’d convinced herself he was.
This didn’t mean she wasn’t irritated with him. Last night had been shambolic, largely thanks to his meddling. Had she not woken up on Apollo’s sofa at six in the morning, she would’ve tried to convince herself it had all been a bad dream.
Although she had to admit his willingness to let her use his apartment to see Maria had gone a long way to redeem him. And he had been kind to her patient. He’d been kind to her, other than the blackmail. She didn’t know what to think about his offer to give her a building. But she could only deal with one crisis at a time, and her priority was letting Virginia know about her run-in with the police.
Only three months earlier, being involved in a fiasco like this would’ve had her fretting about her reputation, what the men in her profession would think if they found out. But the clinics, helping patients like Dona Maria had shifted something in her.
She reached the small green door of the print shop which now served as their temporary clinic and walked in with a sense of dread. She hadn’t seen any suspicious people milling outside, but for all she knew, they’d raided the place this morning. She began to panic when she found the small waiting room empty, but a moment later Virginia stepped out from the consultation room, appearing as if everything was perfectly normal.
“I’m so sorry I brought the police to your building,” Aurora apologized, but the Argentine doctor waved her off as she gestured to the chair across from her. As usual, Virginia had her raven hair in a bun at the nape of her neck. Her hair had gone silver at the temples, which made for a striking contrast. She was an angular woman, very tall and thin, with a pointed chin and aquiline nose that gave her the air of a very friendly crane.
“Sit here. I was just about to have some coffee,” Virginia told her warmly, pointing at the carafe and saucers sitting on the small table in the corner.
“I should’ve canceled the appointment last night,” Aurora said tearfully, feeling truly terrible now that she was confronting what she’d put at risk in the light of day.
“Todo está bien, querida.” Virginia clucked her tongue, like Aurora was the one in need of comforting. “My brother Giovanni was upstairs last night and he said they’ve been circling the neighborhood like this for weeks,” she assured Aurora, handing her a cup of black coffee. It was not exactly a relief to know they were being watched, but it was some comfort to learn it hadn’t all been her doing. “I was here late myself.”
“An emergency?”
Virginia’s face fell for a second, and she noticed her friend looked a bit pale today. “It was a midwife case, one of Renata’s,” she said, grimly. A referral from a midwife was nothing unusual. All the physicians from the clinic viewed midwives as an essential part of the medical profession and considered the establishment’s dismissal of their skills a grave injury to the well-being of women.
For centuries, midwives were the primary source women had for information and means to prevent pregnancy and receive humane care. But once men took over the medical field and “professionalized” it, they realized births were a profitable venture and proceeded to push midwives out. Their clinic embraced them as partners in women’s health and was the better for it. Renata was one of the more experienced midwives they worked with, if she could not deal with the patient on her own, it must have been fairly bad.
“Was it a birth?”
Virginia shook her head, her expression dark at whatever she was recalling. “She brought in a young lady in fairly bad shape. The daughter of a wealthy banker.” That brought Aurora up short. They served well-to-do women, of course, but it was unusual to have them as emergency cases.
“Is she all right?”
“She will be. It was a close thing.” Virginia sighed. “The patient’s older sister goes to Renata for our Dutch caps.” Despite the horrible situation, Aurora felt a surge of pride at the valuable services they provided. The mention of the expensive contraceptives brought to mind Apollo’s offer to become a benefactor. The Dutch caps were distributed for free to anyone who asked. At the moment, they could not keep up with the demand, much less their goal of supplying them in the Americas. With the Duke of Annan’s funds in their coffers, that could change.
“Did she purchase one of those unsanitary pessaries?” It was a common occurrence for less scrupulous vendors to take advantage of women desperate to prevent pregnancies by selling them useless junk that only made them sick.
“No,” she answered after a long pause. She was clearly pre occupied, which in turn worried Aurora. “I’m sorry, querida, my head is in the clouds today,” she apologized.
Whatever it was, had to be serious. Aurora had never seen her this vexed. She was usually utterly unflappable. At thirty-six, Virginia Morelos was one of the most notorious fighters for women’s rights in all of the Americas. She’d been ousted from Argentina for her radical views, for goodness’ sake. Seeing her so affected shook Aurora.
“What happened?” she asked a little impatiently, eliciting another worried sigh from her colleague.
“The girl went to someone to bring down her menses and whatever they did to her brought upon a terrible infection.” This was what happened when women had to seek medical care in secret. They ended up in the hands of butchers.
“Was it done by someone we know?” It was hard to track all the charlatans in Paris, but they tried to keep a record, if only to warn the midwives and apothecaries they did business with.
“They didn’t have a name,” Virginia said, with a shake of her head. “Just that he had a well-appointed office in the third arrondissement.” That was probably how he got away with leaving women at death’s door. A good address and promise of anonymity. They knew none of those society ladies would report him to the authorities, for fear of their own identities being divulged. “We’ll make sure to put a word out. We’ll find him.”
“I just wish we could do more than warn women off when we do.” Because there would be no punishment. If Virginia alerted the police to a bad actor, it would only turn the attention on their clinic, even if they spent half their time cleaning up others’ crimes. Sometimes she thought her body would simply go up in flames purely from raging at society. “And after all that, I brought more trouble to the clinic.”
“It is not your fault.” Virginia insisted.
“I wonder who could’ve tipped them off,” Aurora mused, deciding to set aside her guilt for the moment. It was unnerving to think someone had betrayed them. They were all so careful.
“Who can say?” Virginia threw up her hands. “It could be one of the hacks who sees us as competition. It could be one of the pious ladies who likes to burn our pamphlets and shout about eternal damnation in front of the clinic. It could be the husband of a woman who came to us against his wishes because her body could not bear another birth.”
At that, her friend stood up with a sigh and retrieved a metal box from the sideboard and opened it, before offering it to Aurora.
“Unfortunately, this kind of thing is as much part of the work as the patients are.” Virginia’s words stole Aurora’s appetite, and she shook her head at the cookies. “Eat, having one won’t hurt, and who can resist my alfajores?” she said with a wink. “I know you have a sweet tooth.” Which only reminded her of the éclairs and canelés she’d put in her bag last night.
When Virginia shoved the box in her direction, she relented with a laugh and reached for the shortbread cookie sandwich filled with delicious dulce de leche. Aurora had become addicted to the Argentinian treat that Virginia always seemed to have on hand. The butter cookie and the nutty and sweet taste distracted Aurora from her worrying for a moment.
“Were you able to see to the patient?” Virginia asked, catching Aurora off guard. She’d been so preoccupied with what she might find at the clinic that she didn’t consider how she’d explain where she’d gone after the encounter with the police.
She had no idea what Virginia—an avowed anarchist—would think of her taking a patient to a duke’s apartment, but she could not lie.
“I did.” She focused very carefully on the cookie, until she could no longer use it as an excuse to delay her answer. “I knew of a place that was quiet and out of the way.” Her colleague gave her a curious look, before sipping her coffee.
“That’s what we need,” Virginia told her. “Something permanent and out of the way, so we no longer need to do all this running around.”
Her stomach fluttered as she thought of the deal she’d made with the Duke of Annan to secure that very thing. She was well aware she’d consented to doing business with the human equivalent of a semidomesticated tiger, but how could she turn an offer like that down?
Besides she didn’t think Virginia, despite her views, would be totally opposed to taking a building from an aristocrat, she was much too practical for that. But for now, she’d stick to the funding streams that didn’t have over six feet of trouble attached to it.
“My friend Luz Alana and her husband have offered to host a garden party to help us meet potential benefactors.”
“That’s good news.” Virginia seemed genuinely excited and that was a relief.
“I am so happy you think so!” Aurora exclaimed, finally feeling more at ease. “We’d need to talk about some of the work we do,” she explained. Luz Alana had insisted that in order to get benefactors to open their purses Aurora would have to convince them that what they did was important. “A redacted version, of course,” she told Virginia with a wink, who let out one of her boisterous laughs.
It would indeed have to be a very curated account of what they did. All manner of things that ranged from moral offenses to serious crimes occurred in this small space, and in the last three months, Aurora had been at the center of most of them. She was a full-fledged outlaw and had every intention of continuing on being one for as long as she could.
It had been transformative to function not for the approval of the men in the medical establishment but for the benefit of those who needed her skills. These past months were the best thing Aurora had ever been a part of and she’d do anything to keep it going, even if it meant dealing with a few society snobs.
“You will have to be our voice, Aurorita.” That she didn’t expect. Virginia was so passionate about what they did, Aurora assumed she’d jump at the chance, but she was shaking her head.
“But it’s your clinic.”
“It’s our clinic!” Virginia countered, her brow lowered as if Aurora’s words had vexed. “Look at the night you just had, seeing a patient against all odds, even after being chased by the police.” She shook her fist in the air, as if Aurora had accomplished a great feat. “And here you are this morning, facing the music.” Aurora found herself quite suddenly on the brink of tears at Virginia’s words. She’d always had to fight to be seen. Only the Leonas had ever accepted her with open arms. But this was another Leona in front of her.
Aurora looked around the cramped space neatly stacked with freshly laundered sheets clients were offered for modesty. There were crates with carbolic soap and Abelardo’s special antiseptic mix. The other room was outfitted with a brand-new examination table, desk and privacy partition Aurora purchased during her first week as part of the clinic.
Today they were closed, for inventory, to devise a schedule of shifts here at the day clinic and to consult on the more delicate cases. This small space ran like a battalion that deployed its efforts to help the women of Paris, the least she could do was stand in front of strangers to convince them to support a more than worthy cause.
“And you’re certain you are amenable to receiving help from aristocrats and capitalists?” It had to be asked, and it wouldn’t hurt to know where she stood if Apollo was telling the truth about the building.
Virginia raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused by the question.
“Will I use the money acquired on the backs of women like the ones we serve in order to help them?” She crossed her legs with gusto and flashed Aurora a very saucy smile. “Absolutely, my dear, take all their money. I have my morals, but I am a pragmatist.”
Aurora thought that Virginia and Apollo would probably get on very well. And why was she constantly thinking about the man?
“Now that’s all sorted, tell me about the party at Le Bureau, since my emergency kept me from attending.”
“Well, I didn’t stay very long,” Aurora said evasively while smoothing her skirts. “I had my patient.” Her face heated when she thought of her jaunt through Paris with Apollo on her heels. She could not believe she’d pulled the blades gloves on him.
“Did you not enjoy yourself?” Virginia asked, pulling her out of her musings.
“I am not much for parties,” she admitted. She never had been, and now that she had her work, she preferred focusing on that. “There is so much to do here.”
“You deserve to enjoy yourself too, you know,” Virginia said, to Aurora’s surprise. “I’ve learned that running myself ragged to prove I can work ‘as much as any man’ is not good for my heart or my head.”
It took a moment for the words to sink in. She didn’t think she’d ever thought about what was good for her heart or her head.
“But so many people need us,” Aurora retorted, unable to suppress the urgency that constantly dogged her.
“The work is endless,” Virginia agreed, kindly. “But our energy is not. We must protect it.”
Aurora was at a loss.
“But the work, the struggle.” She knew she sounded like a child, repeating herself. But how could Virginia be so cavalier when she knew they were always short on able hands, on funds, on hours of the day?
“I see my words trouble you,” Virginia said with a smile, reaching to pat Aurora’s knee. “It’s not that I don’t I love my work, or that I wouldn’t do what I must to continue it.” The Argentine looked around her little clinic with such affection and pride. Aurora aspired to one day build something as worthy as what Virginia had. It was quite a feat to go from exile to being at the center of such an operation as this. “With the years, I’ve become quite vigilant in not letting the work become a burden.” Aurora frowned, which made Virginia shake her head at her affectionately. “The need is great.” She said so with a clap and a smile, as though to snap them both into action. “But I can’t forget my own needs and I require divertments. God forbid, I require leisure!”
“Leisure?” It was beyond Aurora to hide the scandalized tone in her voice. Virginia only threw her head back and laughed.
“The horror on your face,” she said, amused. “Yes, leisure . Something that brings you pleasure,” she pressed, then lifted a shoulder with a very suggestive smile on her lips. “Or someone who does.”
Aurora, to her eternal mortification, spluttered like a damned maiden. “Oh no, I don’t—” Even as she said it, Apollo’s wicked smiles appeared in her mind. The kiss they’d shared last night in that alley, the way his hands could rouse her body with a mere touch. Despite the folly of it, she could not deny the man was pleasure in the flesh. To look at him was decadence, to kiss him…a delight.
“I’ve tortured you enough,” Virginia said with a laugh, breaking Aurora out of her reverie. “Tell me about the fistu lotomy patient from yesterday.” From there, the conversation went to safer topics, but her friend’s words lingered.
She was still mulling them over hours later as she made her way to meet the Leonas for lunch.
“There you are,” Manuela exclaimed. Aurora had no time to react, because she was soon engulfed in a hug from Luz Alana.
“Leona! I missed you,” her friend said in her ear, and Aurora let herself sink into her embrace.
There was much to worry about. The clinics, the pile of unopened letters from her brothers and this Faustian deal she’d struck with Apollo, but at least she didn’t have to do it alone.
“I missed you too.”
“Now it’s time to get to the real business,” Luz Alana declared, as she hooked her elbow with Aurora’s.
“Indeed,” crowed Manuela, leading Aurora to believe that the business they were interested in was not the garden party. “Please, do regale us with every detail of what you and the Duke of Annan got up to after you left Le Bureau together.”
She should’ve known.
“I thought we were here to discuss this charity event for the clinics.” Her attempt at a diversion was received as well as expected.
“You see the avoidance?” Manuela asked Luz Alana.
“Nothing happened!” she insisted, but neither of her friends were buying her story. “He accompanied me for a portion of the journey, and then he must’ve gone home.”
“That is interesting,” Luz Alana mused as they walked down the crowded pedestrian path. “Because this morning we received a note from my brother-in-law with an offer to host your garden party at his home.” Aurora was very proud of herself for not stumbling, falling on her face or running away screaming. Instead—as she’d been trained to do—she stared at the crisis straight on and then pretended to have it all under control.
“Would we call it my garden party?” she asked, without making any kind of eye contact.
“We would, yes,” Manuela offered. Aurora countered with a dirty look.
Luz Alana nodded in agreement before continuing her probing. “And now this sudden desire by the Duke of Annan—”
“The man you claim to hate,” interjected Manuela.
“I never claimed that!” Aurora protested.
“I recall you calling him an oversized buffoon with an inflated sense of his own importance and a serious misapprehension of his effect on women.”
“That was in jest,” she protested, veering off into the first café that looked open for lunch. With a huff, she dropped onto one of the chairs. “Maybe he’s after some philanthropic endeavors to champion.”
“He is,” Luz agreed, primly taking the chair next to Aurora’s. “What is curious is the timing and intensity of his interest.”
“I think it’s wonderful,” Manuela declared, waving over a harried server. “And who knows? Perhaps the doctor and the duke can find some common ground.”
“Exactly,” Luz Alana concurred, and Aurora got the feeling the conversation was headed in a direction she would not like.
“And then,” Manuela sang happily, “once that common ground is firmly in place, maybe they can lie down on it and forni—”
“Manuela Caceres Galvan!” Aurora cried, clapping her hand over Manuela’s mouth while both her friends dissolved into laughter. She had to bite the inside of her cheeks to keep from joining in. “I will leave,” she threatened. “Be serious. Besides, isn’t he looking for a wife?”
“He is,” Luz Alana concurred, and that lurch in Aurora’s stomach at the confirmation, had to be a reminder she’d only had an alfajor for breakfast. “Although I’d say that effort is being spearheaded by his aunt.” So, he’d been telling the truth last night. It was not a good sign this information seemed to ease her somehow.
Aurora didn’t respond. She didn’t want to say more than was prudent. Not about what happened the night before, and not about her changing feelings regarding the duke.
“I’m not the doctor here, but I think a torrid affair with a wicked and very large man would do you good, and as far as I know, he’s not married yet.”
“I never said I was opposed to torrid affairs?” Manuela practically fell off her chair at that, which was satisfying. Luz Alana, on the other hand, narrowed her eyes as if attempting to decipher what Aurora wasn’t saying.
“You’ve changed in the past few months, Léona,” her friend observed. “You’re…” She paused, searching for the word.
“Less tightly wound?” she asked, in jest, surprising her friends yet again. Goodness, did she take herself so seriously, her two dearest friends were perplexed to see her cracking a joke?
“More spirited, lighter,” Luz Alana said, kindly.
“It’s her work,” Manuela explained. “She loves those clinics.” She did love them, that was true. But she’d also seen the change in her friends, how their lives were richer, because they’d taken risks. Though she didn’t want exactly what they had, she wanted her life to be a little bigger than it had been. To live less like she was in eternal penance. Philip Carlyle had taken too much from her already.
“I like my work, but Virginia just reminded me I need to enjoy myself sometimes too.”
“I like that Virginia,” Manuela said, approvingly, and once again Aurora had the urge to shock her friends.
“Maybe I will take a lover,” she mused, and the face of a cer tain duke ambushed her mind. Perhaps some “leisure” might be exactly what she required. Apollo would be willing. She had no doubt of that.
There was a certain comfort in knowing she’d embark on this possible tryst with a man who she could never have a future with. She was, after all, the furthest one could be from a suitable wife for a duke. Apollo was on the hunt for a wife, so perhaps Aurora would go after her own game.
“That is the face of a woman contemplating a sinful deed or two,” Luz Alana declared with a grin.
Aurora’s own lips inevitably tipped up as she focused her attention on their newly arrived server, but not before turning to her friends and saying, “You two would know.”