9. Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

A fter retrieving the post from the front door, Ruby entered the kitchen and almost shrieked when an unknown woman rose from the kitchen table.

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but I can't find the doctor."

On closer inspection, the woman was more of a child wearing her mother's best hat and tatty jewelry, but Ruby didn't relax. In Millcastle, children were just as likely to be thieves as adults.

"Dr. Nash's consulting room is at the back of the house," Ruby explained, not for the first time. "Perhaps you might see if he is there?"

The girl bit her rouged lip. "He's not."

"There is a notice on the backdoor clearly stating this house is a private residence."

"He lives here, though, don't he?"

"Yes, but he's not here, and even if he was, he'd be telling you to leave."

The girl started crying, and Ruby suppressed a sigh and held out her handkerchief. "There's no need for that. Just go and wait in the courtyard. He'll probably be back in a tick."

"I can't wait." The girl's glance flew to the clock on the mantelpiece. "I have to get back or I'll be missed."

"Do you have an address where Dr. Nash can visit you?" Ruby found a pencil and a scrap of paper and looked inquiringly at the girl. "I can give him a message if it's urgent."

"He won't come to our place."

"He might surprise you," Ruby said gently. "Where are your family living now?"

"Never had a family, ma'am. Got brought here on a cart when I was five with fifty other orphans and was set to work in the mill."

Ruby sat down. "I assume you're no longer at the mill?"

"I hated it in there and the boys… they wouldn't stop bothering me. I decided if I had to put up with that, I'd rather be paid for it."

Ruby nodded. She'd suspected as much. It wasn't the first time she'd met a young woman who'd been taken in by the factory system to work their life away for pennies. And where could a girl go after that? She either married, became a prostitute, or ended up in the workhouse, because no decent family would hire a nobody to work in their home.

"If you give me your name and address, I'm sure Dr. Nash would be willing to visit you," Ruby said. "If you tell me what it is, I can write it for you."

"I can read and write." The girl snatched the paper and pen from Ruby and scribbled something down. "I still don't think he'll want to touch us lot with a bargepole so I'll come back when I can."

Ruby took back the piece of paper and read the message. "It's been nice to meet you, Tess."

Tess stood up. "Are you his missus?"

"Yes."

"They said he was posh," Tess added as she turned toward the door. "But so are you."

Ruby followed her to the door, aware that the two currant buns she'd left on the table for Charles's tea had disappeared. There didn't seem to be anything else missing, which was a relief. She made sure to lock the backdoor after Tess left and reminded herself not to forget in the future. If she'd left her purse out on the dresser, she might have lost more than a plate of food. She propped the piece of paper up against the tea pot to remind herself to give it to Charles. The address was in one of the poorest parts of Millcastle. Ruby suspected it was a house of ill-repute, not that it would bother her husband. He was willing to treat anyone—something she admired greatly.

It only occurred to her later when she needed her handkerchief to wipe Nora's nose that the girl had taken off with that as well…

* * *

When Charles eventually returned home it was past Nora's bedtime, and he wasn't in the best of moods. Ruby served him his overcooked dinner and sat opposite while he told her about his latest foray in the navvy camp where a drunken brawl had ended in two broken limbs, the loss of an eye, and a lopped-off finger.

"I told Hepworth he needs to stop them selling spirits at the camp, but he laughed and said he makes a tidy profit off it. I asked if it was worth the loss of four of his workforce, and he had no answer for that." Dr. Nash drank his tea. "Sometimes I wonder why I bother."

"Because Mr. Hepworth at least pays your bills on time," Ruby reminded him. "And how he chooses to run his business is not your concern."

"I'm surprised at you, ma'am. I would've thought you all for workers' rights against their employers."

"That was Sidney's cause, not mine."

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm still surprised."

"I've been poor, Dr. Nash. I know what I prefer." She poured him another cup of tea and slid the piece of paper over to him. "I had a visitor today."

He read the name and address and looked up at her. "I assume she wants me to visit her?"

"She had to get back. She didn't think you'd come to her place of residence, but I assured her that you would."

"It's probably a whorehouse," he said bluntly.

"I guessed as much." Ruby hesitated. "She was very young."

"Of course, she was." Charles grimaced. "Just how the clients like them. I'd best wait until morning. They won't thank me for interfering with their livelihood, and it might be embarrassing if I bump into someone I know."

Ruby reached across the table and took his hand. "You are a good man, Dr. Nash."

"I prefer to see myself as a sinner who is trying to repent."

"How did you sin?"

He sat back releasing her hand. "In too many ways to bore you with, my dear."

"Haven't we all sinned?" she asked, slightly hurt by his refusal to share his confidences with her. "I know I was willing to do anything to make sure Nora survived."

"Anything?"

"Are you asking if I would've prostituted myself to buy her food? Of course, I would've done so." Ruby met his skeptical stare head on. "My sister took employment as Francis's bookkeeper so that we could continue to pay our rent."

"That's hardly the same, is it? She took an offer of employment." He paused. "Ah, but this was Francis. I assume that wasn't all he expected of her. What a complete bastard."

"She owed him money. It was the only way to pay off the debt and ensure that the rest of us didn't end up in the workhouse." Ruby grimaced. "She tried to hide it from us, but it was patently obvious what had really happened."

"That's why I'm willing to treat anyone who asks for my help," Charles said slowly. "I am fully aware that life can deal a person a series of blows that might overwhelm the strongest of characters, let alone the weakest."

It went far too quiet for his liking, and when he looked up, Ruby was smiling at him, her expression tender.

"You are a good man, Dr. Nash."

"Hardly." He cleared his throat and looked around the kitchen. "Is there no pudding?"

"Our afternoon visitor helped herself to both of the currant buns I had saved for you. And the plate."

Charles looked pained. "The plate?"

"She'll be able to sell it for a few coins."

"Why did you let her come in here?"

"I didn't. She must have let herself in the back when I was speaking to the postman on the front step."

His scowl was immediate. "I told you to lock the back door to stop any incursion into the house."

"I know you did, and I'm sorry." She met his furious gaze. "I'd just sent Bridget and Nora off for their walk and forgot to lock the door behind them."

"It could've been someone with violence on his mind."

"As I said, I'm sorry," Ruby repeated evenly. "It certainly gave me a shock."

"Good." He set down his cup with some force.

Ruby set her jaw. "Would you like to see the rest of the post, or shall I take it through to your study for the morning?"

"I'll have it now, please. I don't want to give you any more reasons for leaving the backdoor unlocked."

She went over to the dresser and retrieved the stack of letters. "You have some from London and one that is franked."

He took the letters and sorted them out, his fingers lingering over the London ones before finally settling on the old-fashioned folded square with the seal and scrawled signature in the corner.

"This is from my father." He used his knife to slit the wax seal and opened the letter. "It's written by his secretary. He didn't even bother to sign it."

"And what does it say?" Ruby asked.

"That we are to present ourselves for his inspection at Nash Hall in two weeks' time." He set the letter down on the table. "Typical. I've told him on several occasions that I can't just walk away from my job, but he refuses to believe me."

"From the little you have told me about him, I assume no one has ever disobeyed an order from him in his life," Ruby said. "He's probably quite unaware how having a paid occupation works."

"Don't make excuses for him."

"I'm not. He simply sounds like a typical aristocrat—used to giving orders and having them instantly obeyed."

He looked at her for a long moment. "Just like Francis."

She shrugged. "He certainly does have his autocratic tendencies, but he's also ruthless."

"And you think my father is not?" Charles shoved a hand through his hair and sighed. "I'm too tired to deal with this tonight, and I'll have to talk to Hepworth about taking some leave." He stood and held out his hand. "Come to bed."

"You go up and I'll join you when I have secured the house," Ruby said. "It won't take me but a moment."

He nodded, came over to kiss her cheek, and went up the stairs, taking care to be quiet and not wake the occupants of the nursery floor. After Ruby checked the backdoor was locked and banked up the stove, she gathered up the post and set it back on the dresser. She'd noticed that anything with a London address made him tense and wondered why. If there was a reason he'd suddenly left London and decided to set up his practice in Millcastle, he hadn't shared it with her.

But he didn't share much about his previous life with her, even though he knew what had happened to her quite well. She had a sense he was hiding things, but did she want to know what they were? They'd married each other for pragmatic reasons, not love. If keeping such secrets were important to him then she wouldn't pry. She had enough secrets of her own.

* * *

The next day, Charles sorted through his letters and set aside the ones showing his accounts had been paid in full. He'd started paying off his debts years ago, but the high rates of interest meant he'd barely scratched the capital. He'd kept doing it out of some desperate need to restore his reputation as an honest man, even if it was just for himself.

In one sweep of his pen, his father had paid everything off, but the thought gave Charles no pleasure. In truth, it had been easier paying professional lenders than being beholden to his father, who intended to use the loans to blackmail his own son into obedience.

He placed the letters in the locked drawer of his desk and contemplated the other letter. It was of a more pleasurable nature from an old acquaintance at medical school. Malcolm Fraser was planning a visit to the midlands with an eye to setting up his own practice in one of the thriving industrial towns. If Charles had anything to do with it, he'd make sure Malcolm had Millcastle on his list.

He wrote back, aware of the quietness around him. His patients tended to be a loud and misbehaved lot, and by the time he'd finished his letter, the noise in the courtyard had grown to a rumble topped by the high-pitched cry of a child.

His reputation as a physician willing to see anyone had spread quickly amongst the lower orders. He was already wondering how to manage the number of patients who turned up to see him every day—they would quickly overwhelm his home visits to his more upper-class patients. The working class rarely had enough money to pay him his full fee and offered him the smallest coins, promissory notes, and bartered items. Ruby thought he should be more insistent about payment, but it went against his beliefs. She argued that he had the luxury of a private income to insure him against risk and that if he continued to be so lenient, he would be seen as a greenhorn ripe for easy pickings.

She was probably right. He went to open the door, and as he looked out over the jostling crowd who'd already begun shouting at him, he sighed. She'd also said he needed someone to keep the patients in order and she wasn't wrong about that, either.

He raised his voice. "You know the drill. Babies and children first. I'll get to the rest of you, if you form an orderly line and stop heckling me."

A young woman with a baby pushed her way through the muttering crowd. Still glaring at the other patients, Charles stepped aside to allow her to go past him into the surgery.

"He won't stop crying, Doctor, and he's got a fever."

Charles closed the door behind her and concentrated on his job.

* * *

His fifth patient was a young woman who'd obviously been hit hard on the face. He motioned for her to sit down and handed her a wet cloth to staunch the blood trickling down her neck.

"Who hit you?" he asked without preamble. "Your husband?"

"Don't have one of those."

He assessed her clothing and what he could see of her face. "Your client?"

"Wrong again. It was the brothel owner. She didn't want me coming here to see you, and I told her what to do with herself." She shrugged. "I didn't come about me face. I came the other day, but you weren't here."

"Are you Tess?"

"That's me."

"Don't ever go into my house and alarm my wife!" Charles frowned at her. "Or steal my buns."

"I didn't know they were yours, doctor."

Charles didn't even bother to mention the plate or Ruby's handkerchief, because he knew they would've been sold on by now.

"What can I do for you?"

She pointed at her stomach. "I might have got my own bun in the oven."

"Have you stopped your monthly bleeding?"

She looked at him. "I never got that regular, so I don't know whether it's just that, or if something else is going on. That's why I've come to see you."

"Are your breasts tender? Do you have any nausea in the mornings?"

"My, you are a rude one, aren't you?" Tess raised her eyebrows.

"I find it saves time," Charles said. "Can you answer my questions?"

"Working in a whorehouse means my breasts are often tender and some of the clients make me want to puke, alright."

"When did you last bleed?"

She considered him as she counted on her fingers. He reckoned she was no older than fourteen or fifteen years old.

"Five months ago?"

"Is that usual?"

"I don't know, doctor. You're supposed to be the one telling me."

"If you are pregnant, what do you intend to do?" Charles asked.

She went still. "Mrs. Hobbs says I've got to get rid of it."

"I don't do that kind of work."

"I can pay." She took a gold sovereign out of her pocket.

"It's not that." Charles sat back. "It's too dangerous, and it's illegal."

Tess stood up. "Mrs. Hobbs says it's got to go. Don't you understand?"

"I'm sorry I can't help you,"

She shook her fist in his face, her body rigid with anger. "I thought you was a good 'un."

"I am." He held her furious gaze. "Please listen to me very carefully. Anyone who says they can help you with this matter is lying. Chances are you'll die from an infection or in a pool of your own blood on their kitchen table."

"You're a horrible man!"

She spun on her heel and left the room, slamming the door behind her. Charles cursed under his breath and went to write up his notes. If anything did happen to Tess, he wanted to make sure that the authorities knew she'd left his premises alive and well.

Ruby arrived with a welcome cup of tea for him in her hand.

"Whatever was that about? Your last patient stormed out into the yard and told all those who were waiting that you were a fake and a charlatan."

Charles groaned. "That was your Tess. I refused to end her pregnancy."

"Oh." Ruby set the cup on his desk. "I do hope she doesn't seek help from others."

"I fear she will." Charles took a sip of tea. "She has the means to pay for assistance."

"Mr. Hepworth stopped by on his way to the railway station to say he's happy for you to take a few days off for your trip to Yorkshire." Ruby paused. "Well, not exactly happy, but resigned."

"I feel much the same," Charles admitted. "Thank you for the tea. I'd better get on."

Ruby hesitated as she turned to the door. "Did you think to mention Dr. and Mrs. Brennan to Tess?"

"What about them?" Charles knew Dr. Brennan on a professional level because they dealt with a similar section of society.

Ruby lowered her voice. "I believe they offer some kind of sanctuary to women in need."

"Need of what?"

She shrugged. "Refuge from abusive spouses, brothel madams, unwanted pregnancies…"

"They'll get into trouble if they're doing that," Charles said flatly.

"Surely they're trying to do some good?"

"I'm not doubting their intentions. Please don't get involved with them, Ruby."

She drew herself up. "Is that an order?"

"Yes. Nothing good will come from associating ourselves with people who are flagrantly disregarding the law."

"I thought you were a healer."

He scowled at her. "You know I bloody well am!"

"Except for women forced into the worst of circumstances."

"That's not what I said, or what I meant."

She headed for the door, much in the same manner as Tess had, and he grimaced. "Can we talk about this later? I have?—"

She shut the door behind her before he finished speaking, and he found himself cursing again.

There was a loud knock on the door. "Come on. Dr. Nash, get a move on! It's bloody freezing out here!"