“I’m sure he doesn’t intend that.” Aunt Wilcox frowned. “He is not a cruel man.”
“No. But I’ve come for your help. You’ve championed women for decades. You know every woman of influence and charitable leanings in London. If we could appeal to them…” Nora glanced at the inexpertly assembled tray, thinking of the young woman who’d brought it into the room. “I would like to train some of your former prisoners—give them a job that is respectable. A new start.”
Nora couldn’t pretend interest in her tea. Her face flushed as she set her saucer on the table. “We must find a way to help all women—the pregnant ones who deserve a qualified attendant at their births, as well as those who must provide for their families. And perhaps give women who are not skilled at domestic service another choice?”
Aunt Wilcox stared at her tea, deliberating.
“I’m not interested in fighting with other doctors,” Nora said. “But you know as well as I do how difficult it will be to persuade them. I can’t do that alone, but I might succeed with your help.”
Aunt Wilcox set aside her cup. “What you say makes some sense.”
Nora froze, resisting the urge to laugh. From Aunt, that was practically a fond compliment.
“If your students are especially talented—”
“They are,” Nora asserted.
“And the training you propose is rigorous and morally unexceptionable—”
“It certainly is,” she promised.
Aunt inhaled as if the action caused her a great deal of trouble. “I could perhaps sponsor a private meeting for you with a selection of acquaintances.”
Nora pressed her lips together, her fingers tightening into fists to rein in her excitement. She didn’t want to make any movement or speak a word that would change Aunt’s mind.
Aunt Wilcox withdrew a small, dry biscuit from the tray and dipped it into her tea as she pondered. She took a tidy bite and chewed interminably before speaking again. “But there is a favor I require of you.” She perched at the edge of her ornate chair, much like a hawk considering its prey.
Nora nodded cautiously.
“I associate with a particular set of people—educated, brilliant, refined—and they have high expectations of manners and traditions.” Aunt replaced the misshapen biscuit on her saucer, the shape of her strong front teeth imprinted in the sweet. Nora studied it with the same intensity Horace would bestow on a fossil. “They are the people with whom I wish Daniel to fraternize.”
The wet October chill fell away, replaced by the warning heat under Nora’s skin. How had she not noticed the cloying perfume that filled Aunt’s house? She nearly choked on it now.
“They will, I believe, tolerate an eccentric girl educated in midwifery. There are certain allowances offered you because ofyour celebrated guardian. But they will have little sympathy with a female surgeon. So I must insist you limit yourself to educating your students and put off surgery. For your sake and Daniel’s.”
The clutch of the talons stole Nora’s breath. Her mind blackened and lost the words she’d been readying. Aunt took advantage of her speechlessness.
“It is a more appropriate and useful way to use your talents. Why a woman would ever want to cut into a body… Though truly, I don’t comprehend how even a man could consider it. If you give me your word that you will limit yourself to midwifery, I can perhaps arrange a drawing-room lecture and give you a chance to win over people of influence.”
At last Nora found her breath. “I can’t—”
Aunt Wilcox continued over her, a slow-moving, inexorable current. “But if they are not convinced and continue on with their petition, I expect you to be a gracious loser and sign it.”
Nora licked her lips. Obstetrics included some of the most demanding surgeries, ones many surgeons refused to attempt. Apparently, Aunt knew nothing about that.
“I’m a doctor, Aunt. For us, the practice of treating feminine concerns is termed obstetrics.”
Aunt Wilcox waved a blithe hand. “Yes, naturally.”
Was this loophole big enough? She had to try. “I’ll concentrate my efforts on obstetrics—what you call midwifery.” Let her think she’d won that point, when it was Nora’s plan all along. “But I will not sign that petition. It is an ill-conceived attempt to push females out of a profession that once belonged solely to us. A profession which could help the women you serve. For their sake, I cannot.”
Aunt’s blue irises quivered. She was not the compromising type. Her lip trembled, as if her next words were particularly challenging to form. “Very well. My club meets every third Wednesday. I will bring up your proposal and see if they agree.”
Nora knew better than to smile. With a humble nod, she folded her hands demurely in her lap. “Thank you.”
Chapter 29
“Nora.” Julia’s breathless voice conveyed a tight, controlled urgency.
