“Then we close it,” Mrs. Phipps finished smoothly.
Nora dropped her fork with a clatter. “I have patients with nowhere else to go.”
Mrs. Phipps narrowed her eyes at Nora, a familiar precursor to a scolding. “And a sick doctor cannot treat anyone. You, particularly, should be cautious.”
Nora blanched. They were coming too close. Mrs. Phipps knew Nora hadn’t told Julia yet but assumed she’d told Daniel. Most likely because of Nora’s vague inferences that she had…
“Wait.” Harry held up his hand, his brow wrinkled. “Cholera aside, if you expect sickness will be worse this year, how do wehandle the patients with one less doctor? It seems the worst time for Nora to go away.”
Julia nodded. “And even if there are a few cases of cholera, don’t you all believe she has immunity from her childhood infection?”
“Yes, but we don’t know if the baby would have the same immunity,” Horace said, doling cream into his tea.
Nora’s hands dropped to the tablecloth, carved of lead.
Daniel opened his mouth.
Harry’s leg hit the table as he uncrossed it too quickly, and Julia released a yelp of surprise. “Baby?”
“Nora?” Daniel’s face was white, unreadable.
“Horace!” Nora reprimanded, tears boiling viciously along her lower lashes.
Horace looked up, bewildered by the commotion. “What?”
“They hadn’t told them, you dolt!” Mrs. Phipps pursed her lips in such anger Nora feared she’d smack him with her teaspoon.
“Why not?” Horace asked.
Daniel repeated her name, and she caught the whisper despite the tumult of other voices. She turned to him, tears sliding. “I wasn’t sure yet,” she lied, wishing he would turn his shocked eyes anywhere else.
“You didn’t tell Daniel?” Mrs. Phipps asked, horrified.
“You knew?” Julia asked Mrs. Phipps, her voice leaking betrayal.
Nora didn’t even attempt speech. She couldn’t untangle the questions, and time had grown so heavy and fast that she could barely thread a breath through the tight seconds.
Horace shrugged. “It’s nature’s way, isn’t it? No need for all this fuss.”
Mrs. Phipps brought her fist down on the table, making the china bounce. “There is a way things are done, Dr. Croft.”
“So, you are?” Even Horace stopped moving at Daniel’s plaintive, restrained words. She’d never heard him sound so small.
“I think I might be.” She must soften the blow. “I was going to tell you as soon as I knew for certain. I didn’t want to get your hopes up.” Her cheeks burned from the lie.
Daniel’s frown relaxed, his eyes darting, gathering thoughts. “But that’s wonderful.” The words came out choked and strangled. “Even if Horace ruined your surprise.”
He pulled her to him, an embrace different from the ones they’d exchanged lately. He waited until she molded in to him before releasing her.
“I thought we’d hear the same news from you two by now,” Horace said, pointing his fork at Harry and Julia.
Julia jerked to her feet, her golden hair catching the bleak morning sun. “How happy for you,” she said without meeting Nora’s eyes. “Excuse me.” She dropped her napkin and slipped from the room.
Nora looked to Harry for an explanation, but his face wore a stone mask. He said nothing as he followed in his wife’s wake.
“Julia?” Nora asked, far too late.
Mrs. Phipps rose and aimed an angry sigh at Horace. “I’ll speak to her. Give us a moment.” The housekeeper was angry with Horace, but Nora could tell—she knew Mrs. Phipps far too well not to—that she was also disappointed by Nora’s evasions.
