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“No, sir.” Jane gripped the blanket tighter.

“Will you tell me about them?”

She did not enjoy recounting her accident, but knowing that the doctor’s interest was professional rather than simply morbid curiosity helped. She glanced at her aunt, who gave her an encouraging nod.

“Very well,” she said. “I irretrievably damaged my left leg in a riding accident five years ago.” Jane went on to describe her fall on the Yorkshire Moors, along with the local doctor’s diagnosis and treatment. “It took months before I regained even a modicum of mobility, and even now, I am limited to walking with a cane. Last night, I dropped from a height of a few feet and landed on my feet. The pain was intense then but has improved somewhat since.”

He nodded. “Would you allow me to examine your legs?”

Jane’s gaze flew to Alexander. Having a man view her legs had been bad enough all those years ago; now it seemed wholly inappropriate.

“You have nothing to fear, Jane,” Alexander said. “Your aunt is here with you, and I shall amuse Asher at the far side of the room.”

Grateful for Alexander’s sensitivity to her discomfort, she nodded slowly. “Very well.”

Alexander turned his back to her and moved away. Her aunt rose and moved closer. Dr. Thorndike carefully rolled back the blanket, and with his head bowed, he set his hands upon her left leg and gradually worked his way down toward her ankle, pressing against the bone the whole way. When he was finished, he moved to the end of the bed and studied her legs from there.

“Would you try walking for me?” he asked.

Grateful that she wore a borrowed dressing gown over her shift, Jane stiffly slid her legs over the side of the bed. Aunt Millward stood beside her and offered Jane her arm. Jane placed her weight on her feet and teetered upright. Steadying herself on her aunt’s arm, she took a breath and looked up. Dr. Thorndike was standing beside the fireplace.

“Walk toward me,” he said.

Slowly, Jane took a step. Her hip ached, but no more than it did when a storm came in. Encouraged, she took another step. And then another. With her aunt beside her, she walked across the entire room.

“Nicely done,” Dr. Thorndike said. “Now, back again.”

Jane returned to the bed, her confidence growing with each step she took, and when she finally dropped to sit on the edge of the mattress, her sense of accomplishment put a smile on her face. “I do not think I did any lasting damage last night,” she said.

Dr. Thorndike nodded. “I agree, Miss Hadford. And I also believe that I may be able to help you further improve your ability to walk.”

Leaving Asher playing with his pocket watch in the corner, Alexander crossed the room in six long strides and took Jane’s hand. She did not look at him, but having his fingers wrapped around hers gave her the courage to speak.

“How could that be done?”

“I do not claim to know the doctor who treated you in Yorkshire,” Dr. Thorndike said, “but your bones were not set correctly, and the result is that one of your legs is now considerably shorter than the other. The disparity in length is what is causing your limp and uneven gait. In cases like this, it is possible to create a lifted shoe for your shorter leg. The extra sole built onto the base of the shoe makes up the difference for the loss of bone and allows you to move more freely.”

Jane was squeezing Alexander’s hand so tightly it was likely he could no longer feel his fingers. “How would I go about purchasing the lifted shoes you describe?”

“If you will come to London,” Dr. Thorndike said, “I will measure you for a pair myself.”

“Is it possible that the pain she feels when she walks will also be improved with a modified gait?” Aunt Millward asked.

“Almost certainly. A lifted shoe has the potential of minimizing the effects of Miss Hadford’s accident to almost nothing.”

“Except for childbearing,” Aunt Millward said with a sigh.

“I beg your pardon?” The doctor looked at Jane’s aunt with perplexity.

“Her pelvic bone was so severely broken that Dr. Whittington maintained Jane would be unable to bear children.”

Jane sat very still. No one in her family had spoken of Dr. Whittington’s devastating pronouncement since the day he made it—not to her or to anyone else. Aunt Millward knew that Jane had told Alexander, but hearing it from someone else’s lips made it feel all the more real.

“Forgive me,” Dr. Thorndike said, “but I do not fully understand. A fractured hip bone—no matter its severity—should have no bearing whatsoever upon carrying a child.”

Jane’s world was suddenly spinning. She took several deep breaths. No bearing whatsoever. Did that really mean what she thought it meant? She heard Alexander clear his throat.

“To be clear, Doctor,” he said. “You believe that Jane’s particular injury should not influence her ability to have children?”