Chapter 31
The poor breast was no where discoloured, May had to help them from the room.
Joseph’s father stopped poking his apple tart and set down his fork. He looked at Joseph, Tessa, and Liam. “We told them this morning what we’re about to tell you.” Finally, his gaze rested on Hélène.
She lowered her eyes to her bodice. “It was hardly the size of a pea,” she began in a weak voice.
“At first I wondered: ‘Has that always been there?’ I have plenty of flesh in which it could hide—and I am not in the habit of fondling myself.” Joseph thought his sister was attempting a smile, though it looked like a grimace. “But it’s larger than it was before.”
What in Heaven’s name was she talking about?
“There is a tumor inside my right breast,” Hélène clarified.
The clock ticked loudly on the mantle.
All these months, while Joseph had been gallivanting about on his new horse, his little sister had been—
“I knew something was wrong!” Liam threw his napkin on the table as if it were a dueling glove, as if he had been betrayed.
Hélène was twenty-four years old. There must be a reason for this, a lesson—
Only Tessa leaned closer to squeeze her friend’s hand. “Are you in pain, Ellie?”
“Not— Not yet.”
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”
“We didn’t want to distress you unnecessarily,” Joseph’s father answered. “I needed to monitor the growth, to find case histories and consult with my colleagues. This may be a cyst—it may be benign. That could still mean surgery…”
Joseph shuddered and looked away, as if he felt the knife penetrating his own chest. Sometimes, surgery patients actually died of the pain—shock, it was called.
And Joseph would never forget what had happened to his grandfather.
An operation lasting barely a minute, an operation meant to extend his life, had instead hastened his death.
A fatal fever might follow any surgery, no matter how simple or successful.
“The truth is, we still don’t know what we’re facing,” his father admitted.
“There are many different types of tumors. But we have decided not to risk a trocar. It would give us a sample of the growth and help us determine its nature; but if the tumor is cancerous, such a puncture would speed metastasis. We would have to operate—amputate—immediately.”
Tessa drew in a sharp breath and covered her mouth with the hand that did not hold her friend’s.
“The tumor remains small and movable. It is not growing rapidly, and it is not affecting Hélène’s lymphatic system. We must simply watch and wait.”
“I didn’t want to add to your troubles, Tessa.” Hélène’s face begged forgiveness as she looked to each of them. “Joseph, you have a whole parish to worry about. And Liam, I—I know I should have told you. But I was so afraid you’d want to end our betrothal.”
The Irishman stood abruptly, his right hand a fist. “That is precisely what I am going to do.”
Joseph saw the tears spring into his sister’s eyes. She dropped her head. “I understand.”
“Liam!” Tessa cried in admonishment and disbelief.
“I meant—” He held up a finger. “Wait.” Liam turned his back on Hélène, not to flee but to ask Joseph: “Father, how many weeks do you have to announce the banns?”
“Three…”
“Dr. Lazare, sir, I know I’ve not been admitted to the bar yet, that I cannot offer your daughter the home she deserves—but I should like very much to marry Hélène in three weeks’ time.” Liam turned back to her. “That is, if you still want to, Ellie.”
“Of course I do!” She gripped his offered hand as if he were pulling her from a whirlpool. Hélène was weeping in earnest now, but she had never looked happier.
“Liam,” Joseph’s father warned, “if this is cancer, my colleagues and I will do everything in our power to extirpate it, or at least slow it, but you understand…” His voice failed him.
“I’ve seen the drawings in Papa’s books,” Hélène whispered. “It might become—I might become—very ugly…”
Liam nodded solemnly, staring down at their joined hands. “I understand. But the way I see it, we haven’t a moment to waste.”
Joseph’s father rose and grasped Liam’s shoulder. “You may marry my daughter in three weeks’ time on one condition.”
“Anything, sir.”
“You will not take her away from us. You will come to live here. You can make the third floor into an apartment.”
Liam hesitated and avoided his future father-in-law’s eyes, but he answered: “Yes, sir.” Hélène too nodded reluctantly.
“The quarters will be somewhat close,” Joseph’s father acknowledged. “You are afraid Hélène’s grandmother, mother, and I will hinder your new-wed bliss?”
Liam went red as a pomegranate.
“Hopefully not as much as you think. I am frequently out visiting patients of an evening. Hélène’s grandmother retires early and sleeps soundly.” His mouth began to quirk. “And as you know, her mother is deaf.”
Everyone smiled—his sister actually giggled—except for Joseph.
Then even his father sobered. “You will have to think carefully about whether you wish to try for children,” he added in such a low voice that Joseph barely heard him.
Hélène and Liam obviously intended to consummate their marriage. Was Joseph’s father advising them to prevent children? They knew that was a mortal sin! Joseph knew he must speak. He could not allow them to pervert the Sacrament of Matrimony. “Wouldn’t it be better if you remain as you are?”
His father scowled. “Better for whom?”
Joseph tried to imagine how he would advise strangers in such a case.
“Better for Hélène and Liam—for the health of their souls.” He turned to them.
“I know it is difficult, but you must resign yourselves to God’s will, not impose your own.
He is allowing you to suffer for a reason.
He is trying to teach you to rely on Him, not each other.
” At the edge of his vision, Joseph saw Tessa lower her eyes and nod.
“If you endure this trial patiently and reverently, God will reward you, either in this life or the next.”
For a moment, no one said anything. Then his sister responded quietly: “Doesn’t Christ say there are no marriages in Heaven?”
“Exactly! That is the perfect union: with God. Not with a fellow sinner. If you rush into Matrimony now, merely out of lust—”
“It’s called love, Joseph,” his father interrupted.
Standing beside Liam, still grasping his hand, Hélène raised her chin in determination. “I want this, Joseph. I need this, for what is to come. Please say you’ll still marry us.”
Joseph sighed. He looked between his sister and her intended. He knew they’d already made up their minds. At last he nodded. He was glad he was not their confessor.
How different Hélène and Liam’s wedding was from Tessa and Edward’s.
The bride’s dress was not satin but wool.
For the decorations, Joseph and Tessa did their best, but it was October; they could not compete with a plantation full of summer flowers.
The bride and groom grinned at one another throughout the Mass, as if they could hardly wait to say “I will.” In the kiss, they lingered unabashedly.
Clearly, neither was thinking of God’s pleasure.
They spent a week at White Sulphur Springs in the Virginia mountains. When Joseph dined in their company again, Hélène and Liam were still delirious with each other. It was impossible to believe anything threatened his sister’s future; she radiated well-being.
Fortunately, their mother had already left the room when their father observed: “I think Matrimony agrees with you, ma poulette.”
“It does, Papa,” she answered dreamily, never taking her gaze from Liam. “More every night.”
When their father guffawed, Hélène realized what she’d said. Her eyes widened and darted to Joseph, who was choking on his claret. “Day! I meant: ‘More every day’!”