“She won’t be wrong. I can feel it. And if she is, I’ll ask for a sleeping draft and we’ll go.”
Five minutes later, Helena was taking tea behind the last door in a long corridor of examination rooms. Miss Joanna Keep, an attentive young woman with sunny blonde hair and intelligent eyes, sat across from her, munching a biscuit. Declan leaned against the wall outside the door.
“I apologize for dropping in on you with no appointment,” Helena told Miss Joanna Keep. “Thank you for receiving me. I’ve wanted to call on you for some time, but I couldn’t be certain when I would manage it. I... I had to feign illness to break away from my family, I’m afraid.”
“Oh yes, well,” began Miss Keep, “you are in good company. We see numerous cases of feigned illness in this clinic. Mostly elderly patients who simply need attention, but also young women who actually need medical care, but for some condition more confidential than their little act.”
“Is that something you accommodate here, Miss Keep? Confidential conditions?”
“We do. Anything you say to me will be kept in strict confidence. I’m so very gratified that you asked for me by name, because confidentiality is a priority to me. I . . . I had rather hoped that word of my discretion would get ’round. And now . . . here you are.”
“Yes,” said Helena, “here I am. But I’m afraid my business does not pertain to a condition, real or imagined...”
Helena paused, looking around the room. A tidy desk was tucked into the corner and bookshelves lined one wall. An easel held diagrams of the human body.
“You’re employed here at the medical office, Miss Keep?” Helena asked.
“Yes—in a manner. I’ve not been given a salary, if that is what you mean. But I’m in the office every day, and I see to the tasks that my uncle, Dr. Keep, sets out for me. It’s some combination of clerical work and nursing and housekeeping. On occasion, he permits me to observe his work. And, very rarely, I see patients alone. Like you.”
“You are interested in medicine?”
“It is my only interest,” said Miss Keep, smiling.
Helena returned her smile, studying the natural, unembellished beauty of her face, her slender frame, her blonde curls. She was pretty enough for any man certainly, but she spoke with a steady, reserved softness. She was thoughtful and serious. Her movements were economic, with no flourish or flutter. Her dress was plain slate blue, the color of a frozen pond. Her hair was practical, and her eyes were . . . her eyes were engagedand curious and settled. She did not appear to search her brain for the next exciting topic. She simply . . . sipped her tea and waited.
Helena liked her immensely, which was annoying, because it made no difference if she liked Joanna Keep or any of them. She was meant to be ruthless about enlisting the correct girls. She was meant to be earning her freedom, not making friends.
But no friend or even potential friend of Helena’s would be the key to her freedom. Anyone who was a friend to Helena should flee the Lusk dukedom, not endeavor to wheedle her way into it.
Joanna Keep would have to transform into a different sort of girl in order to ensnare the Duke of Lusk. It was wrong. It was all very wrong. Helena let out a disappointed sigh.
Miss Keep asked, “But if you are not ill, are you interested in science? Or medicine, Lady Helena?”
Helena shook her head. “Please call me Helena. Actually—no. Well, my passion is horticulture, so science—yes. Humans—not really. But it just so happens, I am betrothed to a duke. His fortune and standing lend itself to... to philanthropy. Duchesses have money and influence to spare, and they can, that is—if theychoose—they may use that money for things like the advancement of the medical arts.”
She stared into her teacup. Even staying close to the truth, it was difficult for Helena to misrepresent any part of herself or her motives.
That said, she must see the visit to its properend. She must be certain. She’d pretended to be sick in a plant, for God’s sake.
“Philanthropy?” whispered Miss Keep. “Oh, please, please do consider me. I am grateful for my place in this clinic, truly I am, but I can only learn so much from my uncle. He does not teach me so much as demonstrate, anything more I must look up on my own. If I had a benefactress, I could hire proper instructors. Perhaps I could buy my way into a teaching hospital. If I had the sponsorship of a duke, I could realize my dream of making a place for female doctors at hospitals.”
She sounded breathless. Her cheeks were flushed. She set down her cup with a clatter and used her hands for emphasis. Helena’s heart began to beat faster. Perhaps shewouldsuit.
“Does this sound like the type of work,” Miss Keep asked, palms up, fingers wide, “that your future husband would be interested in supporting?”
“Ah...” hedged Helena. “Actually, I am wondering if you would not have more access to the money and influence ifyouwere a duchess yourself?” A nervous laugh.
“I beg your pardon?” Miss Keep’s face twisted with confusion. “How would I become a duchess? My father is a gentleman but our family does not keep company with any dukes. I refused my own Season because I’m a failure at socializing. I’ve never even made the acquaintance of a duke.”
Helena replaced her cup. “Well, Miss Keep, that is the heart of the reason I’ve come.”
And then she told her. It took five minutes. She rattled it all off, barely drawing breath. Miss Keep watched her with wide, disbelieving eyes.
When she was finished, both Helena and Miss Keep slumped in their chairs, staring at a diagram of the human ear. Helena’s mind spun—What if?
Miss Keep looked as if she’d experienced Helena’s fake intestinal distress.
“You’re certain you understand?” Helena asked. “Lusk is terrible. Harmless but terrible. His uncle is also terrible, but less harmless. Even so, as the Duchess of Lusk, you could appeal to the duke and his uncle for tens of thousands of pounds to buy whatever instruction you wished. You could use your standing to pursue privileges for women doctors at hospitals.Ifyou could tolerate Lusk—and that is a very considerable ‘if.’
