Chapter 26
Nora rinsed her mouth with cold water, then patted her face with a cold towel.
She didn’t like vomiting in the mornings, especially since it was hard to hide the occasional sickness from Daniel.
The more she looked and acted like her usual self, the better she could argue her case to continue her usual work.
But this morning she’d been in such a hurry she’d barely managed to wait until Daniel left their bedroom, headed to the hospital.
“Nora?” His voice on the other side of the door wrenched her upright.
“I thought you left for Bart’s,” she called back, trying to sound cheery.
“I heard you.” His grim words slid through the door. “Are you unwell?”
She pulled a deep breath into her lungs, then expelled it as she opened the door of the water closet. “It’s nothing. I’m perfectly fine.”
Daniel looked unconvinced. “Any fever? Chills?” He reached for her hand and checked the temperature of her skin. Only after he’d rolled her fingers over in his own did she realize it had been days since they’d touched. The chills were not from illness.
“You look pale.”
“I’m not sick—not that kind of sick,” she reassured him. “Just a wave of queasiness. Nothing, really.”
“No diarrhea?” When he lowered his eyebrows like that, he looked nearly as stern as Horace.
“I don’t have cholera, Daniel.” She stepped around him, but he followed her back to their bedroom, close on her heels.
“Effects of the pregnancy, then?” He crossed his arms.
Nora sighed. “Of course it is. You’ve seen a hundred pregnant women.”
“Not in the mornings in the water closet,” he reminded her.
How could she want to flee the room and be taken in his tightest hold at the same moment? “Then you know this is no cause for concern. It passes in moments,” she said, with more reassurance than truth.
“I’ll do your rounds. You should be in bed if you’re sick.”
“I’m not diseased, Daniel.”
He sat down heavily on the chest at the end of the bed, full of books and sketches and the dried flowers from her bridal bouquet. “There was a miscarriage at Bart’s yesterday. A woman sick with cholera. I didn’t even realize she was pregnant until the blood came.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t spotting from—”
“She lost the baby. A boy. I suppose I’ll find out if we lost her when I arrive there this morning.”
She wished he’d look at her. Maybe he couldn’t.
The distance between them was much more than the scant couple of yards permitted by the arrangement of their furniture.
“She could have lost the child even without the sickness. It’s a common occurrence.
” Many women didn’t even count a pregnancy until the child quickened and announced itself with timid kicks.
“I don’t dislike Mrs. Phipps’s plan to take you to Suffolk. Surely it would be better than an awful autumn in London.”
She swallowed and told herself he was referring only to the disease and the wet, icy weather, and not their marriage.
She sat in the chair beside the low coals in the fireplace. “I know you’re frightened. If you don’t want cholera patients here, I won’t admit them,” she conceded. She knew which point was vital to her, and they hadn’t broached it yet.
Daniel narrowed his eyes. She never let him win so easily. “Truly?”
She gave a curt nod, hoping her chin didn’t waver. It always gave her away when she was nervous. “I spoke to Ruth, and I think I may have a solution that makes us both happy.”
His arms loosened fractionally at her unexpected smile.
If she maneuvered skillfully enough… It was like weaving her way through torn ligaments and severed veins to find a healthy bone.
“Ruth pointed out something to me that I’ve been so blind not to realize.
” She tapped the words out gently, sounding for hesitation, doubt.
His face remained impassive, almost curious.
“The midwives do have a requirement before they practice.”
A slight closing of his expression. Most likely he suspected she was pivoting to the petition. She had to steer clear of it. “No one will hire a midwife who hasn’t had a child herself. It’s a necessary qualification.”
She paused, but Daniel still waited, unaware she’d already shared her news.
She spread her hands in appeal. “If I continue obstetrics work after our child comes, I’ll be in the company of the midwives—hundreds of married women who help deliver babies.
People are already accustomed to the situation of working mothers, especially in midwifery, so why wouldn’t they accept me? ”
She waited for his brow to loosen with relief, but he only ground his teeth.
“Midwives have no prestige. No training. It’s beneath you. You’ve studied for years. You’re a surgeon, Nora.”
She drew in a deep breath and plunged onward.
“And this way I can continue to perform surgeries. There would be cesareans and torn wombs and cysts of the ovaries.” She tempered herself.
She shouldn’t sound so enthusiastic about calamities.
“We know from experience most men won’t consent to being treated by me unless it’s a trivial complaint, but women surely will.
Some might even prefer treatment from me once they know I’ve experienced motherhood myself. ”
“A licensed midwife?” he asked dubiously. “What does that even mean?”
“Not a midwife. An obstetrician. You well know the difference. I’m certified. I can practice surgery and medicine. But I can do it in the birth room, where other doctors show little interest. There’s a chance they’ll leave me alone there.”
Daniel huffed. “Very little chance, given our luck. Adams was just telling me all families expect their private doctor to attend births. If you disrupt that, you threaten their livelihoods.”
Nora stared at the thin red fissure glowing on a piece of coal.
“It’s so silly. They hate overseeing births.
Harry doesn’t like obstetrics, and you are so busy it’s a burden.
” Even Horace rolled his eyes occasionally when called to a primigravida.
“And in the meantime, I can’t keep my ward filled because no men want me to treat them.
We’re all working on the wrong cases, Daniel.
” She sighed out a short blast of frustration.
Sometimes seeing a solution galled more than a mystery, knowing there was a serviceable answer no one would accept…
“But if we make the decision to restrict care here—treating only women and children, developing a reputation for scientific, excellent care that’s provided by women…”
Why wasn’t he nodding? She’d painted a compelling future they could step into together, with satisfying work for both.
“Nora.” His low voice vibrated with warning. “Your idea might have worked before, but…” He swallowed and exhaled. “There’s been a development. An article in the papers about a midwife.”
“What midwife?” Her blood froze. Surely nothing about Ruth.
“A young woman in Surrey. She placed advertisements in the local papers. No training whatsoever. It sounds like…” He hesitated.
“She did a few deliveries before branching out into abortions. Apparently, she was doing quite well for herself until last week, when she killed a mother and her child, seven months along. My father and Aunt Wilcox informed me of the case yesterday.”
Weight settled on her shoulders: cold, dull, and smothering. Nora forced a quick breath, but it caught in her throat. She swiped at her eyes, embarrassed by her quick feelings. She was so volatile lately.
Death was everywhere, but this news stung.
Two tragic losses—and perhaps another coming, because the lawless girl would be prosecuted.
Manslaughter was the usual verdict for abortionists and punished by death—or transportation, if the judge felt merciful.
But any pity Nora might have felt for her was scorched away by one thing: “She was advertising?”
Daniel nodded. “Not for abortions, not explicitly. The ad promised ‘effective treatment for blockages and feminine complaints,’ or something like that.”
Nora snorted. Clear enough language for luring desperate women. Exploiting them. “She wasn’t a real midwife,” Nora spat out.
“No, but she claimed it, and some poor woman trusted her. According to Adams, who examined the bodies, both baby and mother were terribly mutilated. The mother died four days later of infection.”
Daniel leaned forward, his voice too soft. “Adams is making the most of it, I’m afraid. Drumming up public support for his petition. It’s not just an academic issue among doctors anymore; all of London is joining the debate.”
Nora straightened. “Understandably. But it’s nothing to do with me. I’m advocating for better education. Licensing. Stricter controls.” Not this current shamble where anyone could make up an advertisement and promise anything.
Daniel shook his head. “Adams is calling out any doctor who supports midwives. Says they’re a danger to female patients who cannot know which ones are safe and which aren’t.
” He turned away, pacing the floor. “He even mentioned—not by name, mind you—a foreign-trained doctor who is misguided enough to—”
“He is?” She spoke just above a whisper. “Are you sure you’re not the one who believes that?”
“Nora.” He sighed. “I’ve supported you in everything.
If I had my way, you’d train dozens of midwives and make this hospital everything you imagine.
I think your idea is a brilliant one. But Adams is starting a fight, and I can’t allow you to set yourself against him when we both know you can’t win.
We’ve got to bide our time. Take things slower.
In a year or two, circumstances might be—”
“At this rate, in a year or two, things will be that much worse.”
“We don’t know that,” Daniel said. “In any case, we can judge the obstacles now. Standing up to Adams, especially in light of what’s happened, is like”—he shook his head—“sending a lightweight against a title champion. You’ve fought too hard to lose everything now.
Adams isn’t just looking to give you a bruising, Nora. He’ll knock you right out of the ring.”
Her shoulders felt rigid enough to break. “I am not a lightweight.”
“I meant—”
“I know what you meant.”
“I don’t think you do,” Daniel said.
She wanted to stalk out of the room, but she’d need a walk of several miles in the driving rain just to damp the embers seething in her stomach. And her midwife pupils would arrive in less than an hour.
“My aunt repeated her invitation. I know it’s not what you want—I don’t want that for you, either. But perhaps if we looked at it more in the way of a strategic retreat? Gathering strength until the right time strikes?”
She sealed her lips in an angry line, refusing to answer. She wanted to shout at him that now was the only time that mattered.
“What of my proposal about practicing obstetrics after our baby arrives?” she demanded quietly. He’d not even reacted.
“It’s interesting,” he said diplomatically. “I’ll consider—”
“You’ll consider? I believe it is my consideration that matters,” she said, biting and spitting out her words like bitter fruit.
“Is it your only desire to fight me?” He looked at her incredulously. “If I’d known that before we married—”
Nora blanched, her legs unsteady. Daniel stopped as if shocked by his own words. He opened his mouth to apologize but the dagger was on her tongue, ready to throw.
“If I’d known how you’d be, maybe I’d never have considered…”
It hit the target. She pictured the blood running down the internal wound, draining the color from his face. They were playing at war, inflicting injuries that couldn’t be soothed.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, though it was, of course, too late.
Daniel’s disappointment glinted like arsenic crystals in his dark eyes.
“I’ve never wanted to shut you up anywhere, including our nursery.
I assumed you’d love our child and want to care for it.
Even my mother, with her eccentricities, spent more time with us than our nurses.
” His stare raked over her. “My aunt wanted you to consider using your talents to help direct her society. You could give input on medical care for female prisoners.”
“I’m not a secretary, Daniel.” Nora closed her eyes because it hurt less than seeing him. “I don’t practice medicine to be a philanthropist. I practice because my fingers ache when I don’t. The thought of turning away from someone’s cry—”
“And a baby’s cry?” He waited, fear in the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.
Her heart was a stone weight, chipping to pieces like flint. “I love our child already. But I won’t stop loving medicine. Please don’t ask me—”
His shoulders fell. “Very well. But as I said, the midwife debate is public now. And I’d rather not be in the thick of another controversy.”
Nora remembered the last one—keeping the curtains drawn in the middle of the day, waiting for each successive excoriation in the newspapers.
When she’d been found out as a woman practicing medicine, Daniel and Horace and even Harry had been seized in the hurricane.
Several doctors still avoided the men of 43 Great Queen Street.
She’d give anything for a bit of anonymity. But…
“I can’t sign it, Daniel. And I can’t trade my work for the cheap imitation offered by your aunt.”