Page 73 of Prescription for Sin

“You can’t.” The words scraped Everett’s throat. “She’s your daughter-in-law.”

“Is she?” His father’s eyebrow rose. “I was under the impression your marriage was over. There’s a rumour you even hired a mistress, and another rumour you are courting Lady Winona.”

“You didn’t,” Everett gritted through his teeth.

“I didn’t, but the rumour may begin any day now.”

Everett felt sick. He prayed she wouldn’t believe such ridiculous gossip.

“I love her. We are still trying.”

“Love her? Oh, my dear boy. I taught you better than to fall for a common nurse who dares challenge her betters, who corrupts my only son with her revolutionary ideas.” Real hatred crept into his voice. “She represents everything wrong with modern thinking. Women demanding equality. Lower classes forgetting their place. The natural order being overturned by so-called progress.”

“Father—”

“No!” Dr Moreland slammed his hand on the desk. “I’ve watched you change since meeting her. Questioning your duty. Vacillating between family loyalty and some misguided romance. Well, it ends now.”

“You’ll make an enemy of Salisbury,” he said carefully.

His father’s laugh held no warmth. “I am Her Majesty’s physician. Arthur Salisbury’s influence cannot touch me. Besides,” he added with calculating precision, “we can have the marriage annulled easily enough, what with her crimes and my testimony that you were temporarily insane from fever when you proposed. Then you can marry someone more…suitable.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then your precious Emma will be arrested for practicing medicine without a licence. For stealing medical supplies. For causing deaths through incompetence.” Each accusation fell like a blow. “How long do you think she’ll survive in prison? How many of her precious patients will die without her care? Their blood will be on your hands, son.”

Everett stared at his father, this stranger wearing familiar features.

“Where does your hatred come from?”

“I detest what she represents.” His father’s voice softened. “Remember your duty, son. Your position. Everything I’ve built for you.”

“You built it on dead children.”

“I built it on order. On respect for natural hierarchy. On traditions that have served us for centuries.”

The same world that had shaped Everett suddenly felt suffocating. Every privilege, every advantage his father had given him now seemed bought with others’ suffering. With a clarity that felt like breaking chains, he knew he could never go back to blind obedience.

“When do you plan to move against her?”

“Soon.” His father turned back to the window. “Very soon. Though if you were to persuade her to leave England entirely, perhaps other arrangements could be made.”

Everett’s mind raced ahead. He had to delay his father and reach Emma, had to warn her.

“You can be assured that I’ll take her far away from here, by force if necessary. Do not do anything hasty, Father.”

Everett left the elderly doctor’s sceptical countenance behind as he quit the Royal College. The spring evening was fading toward dusk, but he barely noticed the beauty of the sunset painting London’s spires gold. All he could think was that he had to reach Rochester before his father’s plans could be set in motion.

The journey to Rochester seemed endless, each clatter of the carriage wheels marking seconds lost. By the time Everett reached Emma’s modest house near the hospital, night had fallen completely. Candles burned in her front window, casting a warm glow that once would have welcomed him home.

The sight of medical texts scattered across her front room warmed his heart; evidence of one constant factor in life despite everything.

He knocked, trying to calm his racing pulse. It’s been nine days since he’d lain his eyes on his wife. Nine days and nights of excruciating pain.

Footsteps approached, then a pause. She would be checking who stood on her doorstep at this late hour.

The door opened, and there she was. Some of her golden strands were loose around the ears, and a smudge of ink marked her cheek. She’d evidently been working late, and the familiar sight made his chest ache.

“Everett?” Surprise and wariness warred in her expression. “What are you doing here?”