“No, I didn’t mean it,” Lillian interrupted. “And you don’t have to tell me. They’ll both be moaning about it later. I’ll hear it all then.”
Charming.
Lillian dealt out the cards and smiled at Nora. “Poor dear. I know they can be fearsome.” Her eyes traveled slowly from Nora’s face to her skirt, and a line of concern burrowed between her eyebrows. “We need to get you another gown. I do love that one, but I’ve seen you in it three times now. Don’t you own any other dresses?”
Joan’s music came to a pounding stop, the echo ringing through the room. Nora glanced at the clock again, waiting for deliverance. Whoever called surgery brutal had never suffered through such a dinner party.
Chapter 17
Nora glanced at the clock. The immovable minute hand had mysteriously twined itself around her spine like a vise, her muscles tightening with every tick. She strained to carry on two conversations at once—one outward with Lillian and Joan, the other internal as she reviewed several versions of explanations from Daniel. Infuriatingly, mercifully—despite her need for explanations—he kept his distance, half-concealed by an urn filled with palm fronds, carrying on with his parents and his aunt and the Russells. But Nora read his discomfort from fifteen feet away, betrayed by the small twitch at the bottom of his jaw.
Stalling.
He lingered half an hour later than they’d agreed upon. By the time he finally brought Nora her shawl, her tendons were carved from stone.
They ducked into their carriage in a stiff, icy silence. Their driver was half-deaf, but Lillian was not, and the house windows were all open. Nora waited until they exited the drive before she attempted any words at all.
“What did you mean when you said you signed the petition?”
Daniel inhaled. “I got cornered by Adams soon after he started it. I’ve meant to tell you, but… I was going to tell you tonight.”
She stared wordlessly, so many questions battling for dominance that none emerged.
“He makes a decent point, Nora, and any medical laws take ages. That’s to our advantage. It would be a miracle if anything actually passed Parliament in Mrs. Franklin’s lifetime, and signing helps you avoid a row with the other doctors.” He looked so confident in his explanation. “I just did it to silence your detractors.”
“You signed it and disagreed with it?” This from a husband who’d stood up to his parents and warded off the entire medical establishment to protect and marry her? Afraid of Adams?
“I told him I disagreed with parts of it. I only agree that women—and men,” he added quickly, “who aren’t trained shouldn’t be able to pretend to have skills they don’t. The same as barbers who are still taking out teeth and setting bones.”
The driver took a side lane, and the rhythmic clopping of the mare’s hooves turned into a dull squelch as the carriage settled into the heavy ruts.
“Dannazione,” she muttered under her breath. Cursing worked much better in Italian.
Daniel didn’t ask for a translation.
“Did you think for a moment how it will appear, signing a petition opposing their practice just as I’m starting classes to enhance their training?” Nora demanded. “We’ll look like fools.”
“Classes? What are you talking about?” Daniel crossed his arms, and Nora realized she was doing the same, locked in place.
“It only makes sense if doctors are fussing about licenses. Give midwives classes and lectures so people know the good ones from the bad.”
“The Royal College of Physicians will hardly take kindly to that.”
“That’s why we need examples to help them see—”
“I only knew you had invited them to your open lectures. When were you going to tell me this plan?” The shadows were too deep to see his face, but she didn’t need to. Accusation rang clear in his voice.
“When?” Her voice climbed and sharpened. “You want to know when, after you didn’t tell me you signed a petition written by a doctor who’s maligning me to everyone he knows? Mr. Roland won’t even let me speak to his wife anymore. He threatened to write a letter—”
“I know,” Daniel said heavily. “He’s still submitting it. But he agreed not to expose you by name because I signed. He’s only going to refer to you by initials, like you did with his wife.” He had the audacity to look relieved.
“Daniel!” she snapped. If only he could hear himself. “You knew he was writing to oppose me and you still—”
“Did the reasonable thing,” he finished curtly.
She nearly yanked the bell to stop the carriage and leap out. “I’m being perfectly reasonable.Ihaven’t signed anything we agreed not to.”
“I never said I wouldn’t sign it,” he blurted out. “You never asked my opinion, Nora.”
