“I think we’ve heard more than enough from both parties,” the older man said. “I believe, Mr. Worthington, that it is time for us to discuss this further in my office.” He spoke to Nelson’s father rather than Nelson.
“I won’t leave here without my wife, Judge Marcus,” Nelson declared. “We are legally married. She is mine.”
“She doesn’t have to come back to you unless she chooses to do so,” Papa said in a calm and precise voice. Elise knew it was a sign of his increased anger when he spoke like that.
Caroline turned on the step and started back upstairs. “I won’t ever come back to you, Nelson, and there is nothing you can do about it.”
Judge Marcus waved a hand. “It would be better to discuss this apart from the others.”
Caroline was nearly to the top of the stairs when Nelson broke from the group and charged up after her. He grabbed her roughly by the elbow. “You’re coming home.”
She jerked free and attempted to push him away, but he dodged her shove, and Caroline lost her balance. She fell backward down the stairs.
Elise screamed but could do nothing to save her sister. She pushed her way through the men and rushed to Caroline’s side as soon as she landed at the bottom of the stairs. Blood immediately began to pool around her head.
“Someone send for the doctor!” Elise cried. “Hurry!” She took Caroline’s hand. “Caroline. Please say something.”
“That wasn’t my fault,” Nelson said, staring down at them. He didn’t even try to care for his wife. Not that Elise would have let him touch her sister. “You all witnessed it. She pushed me. She tried to kill me,” he continued in his smug, superior way.
Elise looked up at him. She had never hated anyone as she did this man. She tried to pray, but in her rage, she had no words. She knew in that moment that if she could have pushed him down the stairs, she would have.
Papa carried Caroline to her bed. The wound on the back of her head didn’t appear all that big, but there was plenty of bleeding. Elise refused to leave her sister’s side. She shooed the men from the room and even asked Aunt Martha to leave. When they were gone, Elise and Etta undressed Caroline and put her in a simple nightgown. Etta had already placed several towels under her head to soak up the blood.
“Please wake up, sister. Please,” Elise whispered against Caroline’s ear. “You must live.”
When the doctor arrived, Elise asked Etta to leave. She followed the maid to the door. “Don’t let anyone else come in. The doctor will need privacy.”
“Yes, miss.” Etta looked concerned but said nothing more.
The doctor was already examining Caroline, who was starting to come to. “What ... what happened?” she asked.
Elise rushed to her side. “You fell. You fell down the stairs.”
“Just lie still,” the doctor ordered.
“She’s with child,” Elise blurted. “She doesn’t look it, I know, but she’s five months gone.” She looked to Caroline in apology, then glanced at her sister’s relatively flat stomach. “I’m sorry. He needs to know in case you miscarry.”
The doctor continued his examination, and after nearly half an hour looked more puzzled than conclusive.
“You have a concussion and a cut on the back of your head.I will need to put stitches in the head wound,” he explained to Caroline. “I don’t know quite how to ask this, but what made you suppose you were with child—much less five months along? I find no evidence of that. Your abdomen is soft, and there’s no sign of a baby. At this stage I should be able to feel the formation, especially in one as thin as you.”
“Perhaps she miscarried.” Elise looked at her sister. “Have you bled?”
“No. Not since before our wedding. In fact, I stopped bleeding a month or so before. You know how nervous I get, and the stress was so great.”
“You left us when you were fifteen. I hardly know anything about such things with you.” Elise tried to remember. “I do recall that you were given to throwing up when you were nervous. Even when you were young. Mama thought it was the motion of the water.”
Caroline looked at the doctor. “She’s right. I am often given over to my nerves in such a fashion. Is it possible that what I’ve thought of as morning sickness was nothing more than my nerves?”
“It’s very possible,” the doctor said. “You have obviously not been eating right. You’re skin and bones.”
“She hardly eats at all,” Elise declared. “My aunt has often said as much.”
“I find it difficult when I’m upset. It usually just makes me feel worse. I generally eat little bits throughout the day in order to avoid becoming nauseated. Especially when I’m anxious.”
“And have you been anxious these last months?” the doctor asked.
Caroline nodded. “I have. It’s been most brutal—life-changing.”
