“I don’t think so. You take it.”
Kate tucked it around her. “We’re all happy to hear the inspector will soon be home from his travels.”
A post office telegram marked “Handed in: Lyon, France” had arrived for Julia on Saturday. Then, a second sent from Paris came at breakfast that morning.
“He should be back in London on Thursday.”
“He nearly got you drowned, but there’s much to be said for a man who sends you hothouse roses after he fishes you out of the water.”
Julia laughed. “That’s one way of looking at it.”
She had spent considerable time “looking at” the inspector’s imminent return from every vantage. Relief flowed, her first emotion. After that came the familiar to-and-fro of her complicated, contradictory feelings.
Julia’s morning filled with Monday’s typical duties and patients. With winter setting in, many of the ill were respiratory cases. She examined the Clerkenwell victims, pronouncing two fit for release. Young Willie Abbott had gone home with his aunt on Saturday, but the little sister he’d been looking for was dead. Minnie Abbott, just eight years old, died when her house on Corporation Lane collapsed, the bombing’s youngest victim. The remaining injured patients required several more days of attentive nursing to avoid the danger of infection.
The grim tally from the attack was a dozen dead and 120 wounded. The final reckoning was anyone’s guess as newspapers filled with animus against the Irish and vitriol against the police. Editorials in some Sunday papers called for a Parliamentary inquiry into Scotland Yard, and many demanded Sir Richard Mayne’s head.
Kate dispensed cups of tea and attended to the extra piles of bedding, relieving the nursing staff of distracting housekeeping chores. At one o’clock, she tapped and opened the office door.
“Lady Styles is here, Doctor Julie.”
The doctor rounded her desk and offered her hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.” Julia patted the chair’s armrest. “You found us without difficulty?”
Susan sat, smoothing her skirts. “London cabbies seem to know every cranny of the city. When I gave the address of your clinic, the driver rattled off the names of the nearest public house and the corner draper’s shop where we turned.”
“It’s a varied neighborhood, to say the least. Lady Styles, I’ve wondered … Before we begin, have you heard anything more about that sad business on the Isle of Wight?”
“Nothing from the police, but Lizzie Dowling’s sister is traveling from County Cork to see me. She’ll be here tomorrow, as it happens.”
“That’s a long trip.”
“Yes. I have little to tell her, but the girl has something to tell me. I’ll know more tomorrow afternoon.”
Julia’s visitor looked grave but composed. The mauve lace at her throat relieved the gray of her fitted jacket, adding color to her cheeks.
“Well, youlookperfectly healthy, Lady Styles. Blooming, in fact,” Julia said. “So, what brings you here today?”
“I’m quite well, but …” Susan peered at the ornate lettering on Julia’s medical diploma affixed to the wall. “Does that say Philadelphia? You traveled far to become a doctor.”
Julia knew a delaying tactic when she heard one. “Yes. Parliamentopened a back door for females by adding foreign doctors to the medical register. They either forgot or didn’t know that some women hold medical degrees from abroad.” Julia smiled. “My money’s on ‘didn’t know,’ or they would have slammed that door shut.”
“You’re probably right.” Lady Styles played with the buttons on her dove-gray gloves.
Julia leaned forward. “Confiding in a stranger is difficult, but you can rely on my skill and discretion. For me, a consulting room has the seal of a confessional.”
“Thank you for that reassurance. I hesitate because the matter is delicate, and it’s about Alix. Princess Alexandra.”
“The Princess of Wales must have … surely, she’s under a doctor’s care?”
“Her Royal Highness sees all too many doctors,” Susan said dryly. “And they provide detailed reports about her condition to the Prince of Wales and Her Majesty.”
“To the queen?”
“Not all doctors share your belief in the privacy of a medical consultation. But the princess has begun to wonder …”
Julia waited while Lady Styles wrestled. Finally, she sighed and said, “Princess Alexandra would like an independent opinion. She made up her mind when I told her about you, a lady doctor.”
“I would be honored, Lady Styles. May I suggest Her Royal Highness visit me at my consulting rooms at Finsbury Circus?”
