Charity and Sacrifice Page 2

  She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut until it hurt.

  "Very well..." His impatient sigh echoed all around her. "You can no longer have children. You are no longer capable of giving me an heir."

  Each word was like a cut to her soul. This was so much worse than she'd imagined. She wanted to howl, to scream her misery, but he would never stand for such embarrassment, so she fought to hold it in. She bent forward to hide her face from him.

  "But all is not lost, Lizzie." His tone softened. "I will not abandon you."

  Her breath hitched in her throat, the words and the momentary touch to her head an unexpected, soothing balm.

  "Solutions will present themselves. And to take full advantage of them, the depth of our catastrophe must be kept secret. We must not have scandal or have our honor tainted. Do not question, do not seek answers. Remember, you have no family, and because of your inability, your...your future is now solely dependent on my generosity, and mine alone."

  She sensed when he left, a different type of void settling around her. Only then did she turn and bury her face into the pillows and soundlessly screamed and wept at the unexpected monumental loss.

  * * * *

  Elizabeth stared at the starch white of the privacy screen yet didn't see it.

  No children. There would never be any children. Why hadn't they told her? Was it connected to the disease Benley would not speak of?

  She'd been careful. She'd followed all the known practices, knew her family history and how her mother's pregnancies had gone and thus learned what to expect. From the work at the surgery, she knew women in the lower classes could work almost to term without incurring further difficulties. So why had she not been able to do the same? Why had she lost everything in what seemed the blink of an eye?

  Why?

  Her throat threatened to close and her eyes burned because she had no more tears to shed.

  Robert's generosity still overwhelmed her, the one bright spot in the devastation. Divorce was not done. If there was sufficient cause and money, however, it was not out of the realm of possibility. And he had cause, as she no longer had anything to contribute to the Stainton line.

  Aside from her few heirlooms and a small patch of land bequeathed to her in her father's will, she owned nothing. She might have enough to survive, but that was all. Society already thought her unsuitable. What would they think of her if Robert decided to divorce her?

  But Robert had said he wouldn't abandon her. He wouldn't discard her as they did the organs they removed from their patients at the surgery, or the cadavers at the medical school.

  All she had to do was not care. Not question. Despite her unnecessary education making her mind scream continuous facts into her head, facts that did not add together. She'd become diseased despite her efforts to be healthy for their child. But how? And she was so desperate to find this elusive reason. She must find it, because if she couldn't, her loss, Robert's loss, the destruction of all her hopes and dreams, would be her fault.

  "Lady Stainton, might I enter?"

  Elizabeth dully recognized the voice, yet felt nothing at Ada's impertinence as she moved the screen to enter the makeshift room without waiting for an answer.

  "Oh goodness, you're looking a little pale today, milady. Is all not well?"

  Elizabeth stared at the screens not wanting to look at the woman's face. If she glanced at the nurse and saw her expression as anything other than concerned and contrite, Elizabeth wasn't sure she could keep from launching herself at the woman and clawing her eyes out. Ada, like the other nurses, were probably only too aware of the loss of her child and her inability to ever try to have another again. "As if you care."

  Ada sidled closer.

  "You wound me! Why else would I be risking my livelihood to tell you of what is being kept from you, if I didn't care?"

  Despicable vulture. Harpy. Commoner. "Why? Because of the sole thing your kind always covets. Money." The acidic sweetness poured onto the words escaped before she could stop it.

  The nurse sighed. "It would look like that wouldn't it? And normally, you would be right." Ada chuckled softly. "But we have watched you, Lady Stainton. You're not like the others."

  That caught her off guard. "I beg your pardon?"

  Ada dragged over the chair and sat down. "I've known many doctors over the years. We all have. And every one of them came from upstanding families, or married into them. But aside from a function here or there, we don't see their wives, let alone ever speak to them. Every one of them only worries about fashion, their social standin', or how others see them.

  "But you, you came and learned. You help, you even listen to what we say and believe we actually know somethin'. You've done more than any wife of your breeding would, even more than we would do if we were ladies like yourself." Ada's gaze locked with hers. "If only he were worthy of your efforts."

  "What are you talking about?" She reached beneath the pillows for the heirloom, squeezing it until the pin bit into her hand.

  "Syphilis, Lady Stainton. Syphilis."

  Elizabeth felt her mouth go dry, her mind reeling. A venereal disease? Surely not! Yet the standard form of treatment involved mercury or at times arsenic, did it not? Even sulphur. And Benley's shot had contained at least one of these, if not all three. Her face grew flushed. "How can you, how can you say that to me? How could I have contracted it? I've never been anything but faithful to my husband!"

  "Milady, milady, please!" Ada made quick shushing noises. "That's not what I'm saying. Your virtue is beyond reproach."

  Elizabeth looked away, panting after the all-consuming flash of hate. Still, how could she have contracted the disease? She'd been very careful, at both the surgery and the local hospital. Although Robert had put his foot down, prohibiting her from helping him at the charity hospital in Whitechapel. That side of the city had been sliding into decline for some time. Robert went there to help those less fortunate or to give lectures to budding students at the increasingly prestigious medical school also housed there.

  Might Robert have contracted the disease while helping the poor? Though conversations over such diseases had made her embarrassed and terribly uncomfortable, the texts had been much easier to work through. If she recalled correctly, there were signs during the infectious stage of Syphilis, but not always. Still, Robert was so fastidious. To believe he would have allowed contact of fluids from a sick person to invade him in any way... Plus he'd said the fault was hers.

  Something had to make sense sooner or later.

  Elizabeth opened her coiled fist and ignoring the drops of blood that fell to stain her sheets, she placed the Colonna gold-enshrouded pearl pin by the nurse's knee. "Just tell me what you have to say. All at once. I will not interrupt. I'm tired of this dance."

  "As you wish." Ada reached out and quickly grabbed the offered object, tucking it out of sight in a pocket of her apron.

  "The number of unfortunates coming into the city keep growing every year. Even with expansions, the hospitals have more of the poor in need than they can care for. The free dispensaries can't keep up with demand. So there's a lottery that's been put in place."

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to ask what this had to do with anything, then closed it, determined not to have this woman see her break her word so easily.

  "The world being the equal place for all that it is... There are rumors of ways to possibly have your number drawn sooner rather than later. Whether true or not, there are those who've taken advantage of having charity presented to them in exchange for favors." Ada's voice dropped so low Elizabeth was forced to lean in to hear.

  "Dr. Benley is not one of these men. But he is forced to keep their secret as they are his betters." Ada took a deep breath. "Of Lord Stainton the same cannot be said."

  As silence settled between them, Elizabeth tried to understand what she'd just been told. She knew what the words meant, but like everything else before, it made no sense whatsoever. She'd have to swallow her pride if
she wished to be able to puzzle this out at all.

  "Ada, you might think me simple minded, but I don't understand what you're telling me. What possible favors could a poor patient supply to my husband that he would actually want?"

  The nurse hesitated. "Dear, it is such naiveté that's endeared you to us so. Yet it is the very thing that has allowed what's happened to come to pass. And why we were never brave enough to speak of it before this. It was our hope you would never need to know."

  Despite all she thought about this woman, Elizabeth believed her. The pity reflecting in Ada's eyes said it all. And it worried her. She nodded, acknowledging the nurse's words and bidding her to go on.

  "There are rules governing all proper ladies, are there not? Chastity until marriage. Forming a union with the primary purpose of maintaining the household and making children. Your fortunes and most property falling under the ownership of the husband after marriage.

  "You're told coupling is a necessary evil, not something for enjoyment or for lingering, as then might it not appear to be a sin? But if enjoyment is not possible for the wife, what is a husband to do? For surely someone who mutually participates, rather than lay there purely for the making of little lords and ladies, would be more exciting, would they not?"

  Elizabeth felt her cheeks grow warm, the words coming from Ada's mouth too vulgar to ever be contemplated. Yet there was some truth there. Had her mother not confided that the act was more a chore than anything else? God had made them as he had, but never was there to be enjoyment. The act was to be purely a means to ensure the future of the family. And yet... There'd been conversations she'd overheard, giggles and whispers she'd dismissed out of hand or hadn't understood. But what if there was more? What if this explained why middle class men were accused of philandering before actually being married? What if marriage itself left the men wanting? Had her very own Robert fallen to temptation?

  "So you're saying Lord Stainton is responsible?" Elizabeth shook her head. "Even if I believe this for one moment, wouldn't he have known better? Wouldn't he have taken care of it, rather than risk passing it on to me?"

  But she'd begged him, hadn't she? Begged him last Christmas for them to try again, so she could do her duty by him and give him a child, thus helping to insure the Stainton line. Except that hadn't been the only reason, had it? Poor, selfish Lizzie, already realizing her original gambit had backfired. She'd been looking for something else to fill her life, hadn't she? A child would solve everything. A child would bring her Robert's love, and if not, at least someone for her to care for without restraint. Except it hadn't quite turned out that way had it?

  "Never mind. Thank you, Ada. I believe you've done as you said you would. You may take my 'charity' and leave me now."

  "Will you be all right alone, milady?"

  A bark of a laugh echoed in the space and it had come from her. "I'll be fine. Do not worry yourself."

  She purposely did not look at the nurse as the woman took her hesitant leave.

  The nagging wife. It was so very laughable. She'd forced him into this.

  Another barking laugh escaped her mouth. As if she'd ever been able to force Robert into anything he truly didn't want to do. It would absolve him entirely to think of it that way though wouldn't it? As if not telling her she might be infected did not matter in the least.

  Lizzie laughed again. And this time, she had a very hard time stopping.

  * * * *

  She was finally deemed fit enough to leave. Though she'd only seen him two other times since the incident, her husband graced her with his presence to take her home.

  She'd asked no more questions of Benley, so there'd been no need of any other stern conversations about not asking questions. Robert seemed quite pleased she'd done as he'd asked, even going out of his way to help her up into the carriage and making sure she was comfortable. He'd not paid her this much attention since he'd courted and won her almost seven years ago.

  Though at any other time she would have taken these as signs of hope and progress, she shied from doing so today. Despite Ada's revelations and her own correlations of the facts, she didn't know for sure if Robert had known about his condition before he lay with her, yet there was still a chance. She just couldn't quite bring herself to believe he'd been seeking "favors" from the poor women at Whitechapel Hospital. She was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Because the ache inside her ran so deep, she could barely breathe. One more brick and she wasn't sure she'd survive.

  Regardless of how it came to pass, she was still at the mercy of his indulgence. The law would side with him. She would be bereft of house, home, and name if he so chose. So if she could not give him children, perhaps she could try to find out how to give him the other things he sought.

  Surely there must be a way for her to make inquiries. She would just swallow her pride and distaste and see what she might learn. See what could be saved.

  The familiar rocking of the carriage, Robert's near presence, and having something to strive toward made her feel as if she were making progress. Going forward and the work at the surgery and the hospital were all she had left.

  The door to their home opened before the carriage rocked to a full stop. The household staff poured out, the women standing to the right and the men to the left, to greet their mistress home. Mrs. Aimstrong even had a tolerant smile for her, assuring Elizabeth without words that at least at home all was as it should be, so she had naught to worry about in that regard.

  It was good to know some things remained unchanged.

  Millie hovered protectively over her that evening as she helped Elizabeth get ready for dinner. A new gown and even jewelry awaited her, the room filled almost to overflowing with fresh flowers. At any other point in her life Elizabeth would have been thrilled at the attention Robert seemed to be showering upon her. But with her child gone, and the ugly possibilities surrounding her on how and why her miscarriage had come to pass, she couldn't feel much of anything.

  Still, she went through the motions, allowing Millie's chatter to fill the air as she worked hard to make her mistress presentable.

  As Elizabeth started down the stairs, she found Robert waiting for her at the landing, another gift he'd not regaled her with in years. Again, she felt almost nothing, though a kernel of apprehension jabbed at her insides. Robert hadn't felt the need to baby her or ingratiate himself to her in any way for the last few years, not even during her time at the hospital, so why had he become so solicitous now?

  The scents from the dining room wove around her as he parted the doors, many of her favorite scents begging for her attention. This caused the kernel inside her to sprout sharp spears. Surely God would not be so cruel as to dump another catastrophe in her lap. Not so soon after...

  Robert pulled her chair out, having had the servants lay her plate setting next to the head of the table, rather than at the foot. Growing ever more nervous, she could catch no hint of coming doom from any of the servants. They looked pleased just to see them together again.

  What little appetite she'd had to begin with dried up as if it had never been. The abyss at the pit of her stomach dropped to new depths. He was up to something; there was no denying it. But what? What else could be taken from her?

  For the sake of appearances, she forced herself to eat at least enough to satisfy the staff's watchful eyes. Robert usually discouraged small talk at dinner, so keeping silent took no effort at all.

  Once the dishes were cleared away, Robert took her hand. Elizabeth was so surprised, she almost yanked it back.

  "Will you come to the study with me? I'd like a drink and there's something the two of us should discuss."

  She nodded once then looked away, dread closing in on her like the spikes inside an iron maiden.

  Robert's study—his inner sanctum—was all dark woods and smelled of tung oil and cigar smoke. How many times had she snuck inside, curled her feet up on his chair, and breathed in his world, feeling like a guilty child sneak
ing off to wear her parents' shoes or makeup?

  The study held the proof of Robert's education, of his achievements in his field and of his rank. It embodied the power of men to make their way in the world. A place where he could broaden his mind and keep it entertained.

  The one unexpected benefit of her plan to help Robert with his work: she too had broadened her mind. She'd been able to fill her life with more than making fancy embroidery, ordering the servants about, worrying about fashion, or trading gossip with her peers.

  He seated her on the settee closest to the desk, and then served her a finger of brandy, as if she were one of his colleagues. The gentlemen removing themselves from the ladies for an after dinner drink.

  "Go on. Take a sip."

  Elizabeth did as ordered. The taste of the spirit was heavy and sharp, not at all what she expected. The resulting heat in her throat and mostly empty stomach were the most pleasant things she'd felt all day.

  Robert swished the amber liquid in the large brandy glass a moment before quaffing it away and serving himself another.

  "Lizzie... I know the past weeks have not been easy on you. Your recuperation slowed due to unexpected factors...

  "Mistakes were made. Mistakes that can't be fixed." He stared at his books, his desk, gesturing with his drink filled hand, as if buoying himself with his own words. "We must reconcile ourselves to that. We must carry on. And in order to do that, some changes must be made."

  Elizabeth's hands shook, jiggling the alcohol still left in her glass. She waited for whatever new catastrophe awaited her. That Robert was working himself up to deliver the blow couldn't have been more obvious. If she could have managed to make her legs work, she would have run from the room.

  "Your services as a nurse will no longer be required."

  She went cold all over, flushed with heat, then went cold again. "You... You would take this from me as well?"

  Robert paled, his eyes narrowing at her choice of words. After taking a drink, he began pacing. He held a finger up for each point as it was made, as if reading from a list.