Nora’s spine stiffened. Every sentence of this conversation was a blind turn. She’d already lost her balance several times. “I’ve heard of them. And of course, I’m familiar with the reputation of the late Mrs. Fry. She was fighting for separate female prisons, I understand? It’s a brilliant idea.”
Aunt Wilcox bowed her head solemnly, pausing a moment, as if silently joining a prayer at church. “A remarkable woman,” she said.
“Remarkable,” Sarah echoed. “And your aunt—”
Daniel’s aunt, Nora silently corrected.
“I’m quite involved in the work,” Aunt Wilcox said. “Progress has been made, but there’s much to be done. Prison conditionsare only half the battle. Once the women are released, there is the need for teaching work skills, schooling for their children, obtaining respectable employment—not to mention inspecting prisons across the kingdom and petitioning the Crown when they are not complying with the Gaol Act.” She paused, gauging Nora’s reaction. “I was with Mrs. Fry, you know, when she addressed the select committee of the House of Lords, but that was probably before you were born.”
Nora worked some moisture into her mouth as Joan’s piano music lifted its plaintive notes. “How incredible,” she said. “I didn’t know.”
Aunt Wilcox acknowledged the compliment with the smallest of nods. “Please don’t take it unkindly if I say there is much you don’t know, being brought up as you were. I would never dispute Dr. Croft’s genius—he’s endorsed by many distinguished persons—but I think it a shame you were raised so far from ladies’ influence.”
Nora opened her mouth, ready to spring up in defense of Mrs. Phipps, who was as principled and genteel as any woman in the room.
Aunt Wilcox cut her off with practiced efficiency. “However, it’s not too late for you. We’ve lost our treasurer. I put your name forward, and in spite of your unusual credentials and the fact that you’d be a brand-new member of the society, the board members are disposed to consider you for the position.”
“As society treasurer?” Nora frowned, glancing between the two women, unable to hide her bafflement. “You see, I’ve never kept books.”At least, not well, according to our ledgers.“That’svery kind of your friends, but I’m afraid I’m unqualified.” Their magnanimous smiles melted, morphing into affronted frowns. Nora tried again, tripping over her clumsy words. “It’s obviously very important work, but I’m responsible for a private hospital and lectures…”
Daniel’s mother wore her offense visibly on her pinched lips and stiff cheeks.
Nora scrambled for a peace offering. “I could apply for membership. It’s a worthy cause.”
Aunt Wilcox frowned deeply, but Nora couldn’t tell if it was in thought or disapproval. Nora held her breath, the seconds expanding in the perfumed air of the drawing room.
Aunt Wilcox leveled her heavy gaze. “You see, child, we had hoped to persuade you to put down some of your other causes and adopt this one.”
“What other causes?” Nora asked, bristling at the older woman’s tone.
Aunt Wilcox pursed her lips. “There’s no point pretending. We know you’ve earned the displeasure of most of the respectable doctors in London. You cannot fail to realize some of that disapproval taints our family.”
“A discussion is hardly censure,” Nora countered.
Aunt Wilcox snapped her fan open. “I came here with hopes you’d put your intelligence to work in ways other than the brutalities of medicine. You can be exceptional and renowned by other means. Like Mrs. Fry.”
“I wouldn’t call my work brutal—” Nora objected.
“There will be children eventually,” Sarah pointed out, confirming Nora’s fears over her earlier interest in her waistline.“Aunt’s society would give you an outlet for your considerable talents, as well as a level of respectability.”
Nora coughed, searching for air. “Do you mean to say I’m not respectable?”
Aunt Wilcox silenced them both with an upraised hand. “If Nora joined our society, we could channel her talents in a more”—she gave Sarah a knowing look—“admirable direction. If she took up the cause of women with us, she could be an inspiration instead of a singularity.”
Singularity.
Tears gathered, but not only in her eyes. She felt them in her shaking chin. Her burning skin.Too emotional. Too weak.
“Sarah misspoke,” Aunt Wilcox soothed. “You are certainly respectable. She meant to say we could give you a level of protection.”
The loose curls around Nora’s ears wavered as Aunt fanned the air. “Protection from what?”
“That’s an odd question for a woman who is the object of a circulating petition,” Sarah’s quiet words sizzled like the air before a lightning strike.
“I’ve heard patients have been slow to accept you, and Dr. Croft’s usually successful clinic is struggling financially,” Aunt Wilcox added. She left the last words unsaid—because of you.
Nora fixed her eyes on the drawing room door, willing the men to enter.
“I have plenty of female patients,” she defended. “Only the males are reluctant.”
