12. Unwelcome Events #2
I absolutely insist you come to your sister’s house party next week.
Not only will it do you good to get away from your practice for a few days, but I have it on good authority that Alexi has obtained a particular port I’ve been seeking.
(Don’t ask how I know. A lady must keep some secrets!) Besides, we can spend the evenings plotting elaborate revenge while drinking.
I promise to keep you thoroughly entertained and far from any insufferable men.
Remember, dearest, you are first and foremost a healer. Let us focus on healing your heart before we devise suitable punishments for the wretch who broke it. Though I still vote for the curry sauce.
With fierce love and fiercer loyalty,
Helen
P.S. I may have already started a rumour about Everett Moreland suffering from an embarrassing medical condition. If he suddenly finds ladies making a wide berth or being offered remedies for unusual rashes at his club, I cannot possibly imagine why.
Emma folded the letter with tears in her eyes and a smile on her lips. Despite agreeing with Helen’s sentiment, a part of her hoped he would return, tell her it was a prank or that he’d realised his mistake. Any reason for her to forgive him and have him back.
She poured herself a glass of wine and settled into the divan with the latest Provincial Medical and Surgical Journal. Yet even the fascinating article on childhood diseases couldn’t hold her attention. Every small noise made her heart leap, expecting his return.
When the knock finally came, Emma chided herself for the way her pulse quickened. She smoothed her skirts and checked her hair in the hall mirror before opening the door. Alexi stood instead with her servants.
“Hello, dear sister,” Alexi said as she breezed past Emma without an invitation.
“This is an unexpected pleasure. To what do I owe this honour?” Emma’s voice was clipped, already anticipating her darling sister’s irritating matchmaking plan.
“I’ve come to collect you for our house party at Lullingstone. It starts in a few days and ends the following Friday.”
“Absolutely not.” Emma left her sister and walked into the study, refusing to acknowledge her imploring gaze.
“Emma…” Alexi’s soft voice said from the doorway.
“I have patients who need me. Dr Kincaid will be away as well. I cannot leave the hospital short-staffed.”
“You have capable nurses and one other physician who can manage for a week,” Alexi countered, her silk skirts rustling as she perched on Emma’s desk.
Despite sharing the same parents, the two sisters could not have appeared more different. Alexi had dark hair and eyes with natural feminine grace while Emma stood in her practical dark dress, her blonde hair severely pinned and blue eyes blood-shot from fatigue.
“Is that the only reason?” Alexi’s knowing tone made Emma’s hands still on her book. “It has nothing to do with your mysterious houseguest?”
Emma kept her voice carefully neutral, though her chest ached at saying it aloud. “What makes you say that? Mr Hughes was only a patient and has recovered enough that he left a few days ago.”
“I say that because I sensed he was somehow special. He had a presence that affected even me, not to mention his good looks.”
Emma spun around to stare at her sister. “I never thought I’d hear you say that about any man other than Arthur.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m married, not blind,” she said with a sly smile. “I still find my husband to be the most attractive man in England, but your Mr Hughes is comely enough to catch my notice. Admit it. You feel something for him.”
“I do not.” But the protest sounded weak even to her own ears. Emma busied herself reorganising the bookcase that needed no reorganising.
Sighing, Alexi changed the subject. “Arthur has invited Dr Moreland from the Royal College.”
Emma’s head snapped up. “Why?”
Alexi smiled triumphantly. “He’s quite influential on the board and quite interested in meeting the Marquess of Salisbury’s sister-in-law, who excels in medicine.”
Emma’s mind raced with possibilities. Would Everett accompany his father? Did she want to see him? She was uncertain. A part of her wanted to confront him. Another part longed to embrace him. It seemed a good idea not to see him before she was decided.
“There will be other eligible gentlemen as well,” Alexi pressed on. “The Duke of Somerset’s brother is quite handsome, looks a lot like him. He is intelligent, well-travelled—”
“I have no interest in marriage prospects.” Emma’s tone was sharp. The only man who had sparked her interest lately had turned out to be a lie.
“No?” Alexi raised an elegant brow. “Then how will you become licenced in medicine? Even with Arthur’s influence and Dr Moreland’s support, you’ll still be asked to obtain permission from your husband. Those antiquated men will never allow a single woman to become a proper physician.”
With a sigh, Emma nodded. She knew Alexi was right. She should not allow one liar and thief to alter her future.
“Arthur has invited several progressive members of Parliament. Men who support women’s education, who might be sympathetic to your cause.”
Emma stilled. “You’re hosting a political gathering?”
“Among other things.” Alexi smoothed her skirts. “The house party is a mere cover for more serious discussions. Reform is in the air, sister. You could be part of it. You’ve spent your whole life fighting to practise medicine properly. Don’t let this opportunity slip away.”
Emma’s resolve wavered. The chance to speak with Dr Moreland, to plead her case to sympathetic politicians, was very compelling, and her dearest friend would be there. She squared her shoulders, pushing thoughts of dark eyes and gentle hands firmly aside. “Very well. When do we leave?”
“As soon as you are packed.” Alexi’s smile held triumph and sympathy in equal measure. “Don’t bother with packing clothes. I’ve already had new frocks and all the essentials made for you. Bring everything else.”
After entering her room, Emma stood at her window instead of packing. Three days since Everett disappeared. Three days of jumping at every footstep, of pretending her heart didn’t leap each time the door opened.
“Enough,” she told her reflection firmly. She had worked too hard, sacrificed too much, to let a man’s betrayal make her lose focus on her cholera research and career.
Still, as she packed her medical bag—she never travelled without it—Emma couldn’t quite suppress the hope that Everett might attend with his father. “Fool,” she muttered, forcing herself to focus on the opportunity ahead instead of the man who had left her.