Epilogue

EPILOGUE

E dinburgh, four years later

The address was on the edge of Edinburgh's Old Town. From what Jo had seen of the city so far, it wasn't the worst of areas, but not the best, either. Rob helped her out of the hackney, and they mounted the steps to the door. The several brass nameplates indicated that the premises were shared by a number of medical practitioners and men of law, with Mr Campbell's name among them. Jo felt the usual tension inside her before meeting a new business acquaintance—even though this wasn't really a business meeting.

A youth of no more than fifteen let them in. "Second door on the right on the next floor," he said in response to Rob's query, in a strong accent that Jo struggled to understand. Campbell's door was opened by the man himself, and he stood back to allow them to enter.

"Welcome, laddie! And Mrs Delafield." He made his bow, then closed the door behind them. The small anteroom was sparsely furnished and the floor bare, but the chairs looked comfortable, and a table held a few books and periodicals. "Come on through to my office. Shall I send for tea? Coffee?"

"Tea, if you please," Jo said. She'd known she was expecting their third child when the smell of coffee started to make her feel nauseous again; she still had five months to go, but this would be her last business trip for some time. Campbell went to the door and called down to the lad on duty below, then ushered them into his office. This room was more spacious, with several chairs and a desk in one corner. A screen concealed what Jo assumed was an examination couch at one side.

"You appear to have thrived since we were released from Verdun, Captain. How is the leg?"

"It's plain ‘mister' now. And the leg is as mended as it will ever be, I think. It's good for most things, as long as I don't overuse it."

"Verra good." Campbell turned his gaze to Jo and gave an unexpectedly charming smile. "I see Delafield has done well for himself. Now, how can I help? You said you had a proposition."

"We do," Rob said. "But first, my wife will tell you a story. Jo?"

A clattering on the stairs announced the arrival of the tea tray, so Jo collected her thoughts while the maid served them.

"A few years ago, my mother miscarried..." She outlined Mama's gradual decline, and how it had been reversed, including an admission of her improper correspondence with Rob before they met. Campbell's eyebrows rose a little at that, but he made no comment. "I did not witness the period when Mama was first trying to reduce her dependency," Jo finished. "However, I believe it was a most unpleasant, not to say painful, experience for both her and my father supporting her."

"It usually is, unfortunately." Campbell nodded. "Your mother is to be congratulated on her determination to remain free of it."

"She did have one lapse," Jo admitted. "She worried a great deal when I was about to be delivered of my first child, and resorted to her tonic for a while. I don't know what would have happened had I or the baby not come through in full health, but we did, which helped her to reduce her use of laudanum to negligible amounts again."

"That is more than many achieve," Campbell said.

"So I understand. Mr Campbell, I am interested in discovering if there are ways of reducing opium use that cause less distress than my mother suffered." Jo picked up her cup of tea and sipped it .

Campbell frowned slightly. "In case your mother lapses again?"

"That is not my main motive." Jo paused as Campbell looked from her to Rob, but Rob just made his usual ‘carry on' gesture to her. "Such knowledge would be useful should that situation recur, but there is another, more significant reason. You told my husband that many military men find themselves in similar straits due to battle injuries. We have asked several medical men to take part in our investigations."

"Experimenting on patients?" Campbell's brows rose.

"No." Jo wasn't surprised at his reaction; he wasn't the first who had responded in that way. "Merely keeping detailed notes of those you help in this way, and sharing methods and knowledge with others helping with the project. We have approached a number of physicians in places such as Bath and other spa towns, but their patients are often elderly, and many suffer from other complaints that are likely to complicate any conclusions. We wondered if your practice might include more former soldiers."

He shook his head. "Some, but no more than can be found in any physician's practice. And I am a surgeon, not a physician."

"You are likely to see patients suffering from pain, though, are you not?"

Campbell nodded.

"We are not referring only to officers, but to any former military men—or others, come to that—using laudanum to deal with the pain of injuries. Including those who would not normally be able to pay for treatment."

Campbell's brows rose. "Are you proposing to invest money in the study you describe?"

"Indeed we are. Writing detailed reports and posting them will take time that you would otherwise be using to see patients. You deserve recompense for that, and for seeing patients who cannot pay. I will do the initial collation of findings, and in due course we hope to invite all the participants in the study to meet and discuss their methods and conclusions."

Jo watched Dr Campbell's face as she spoke. One physician they had approached had objected that it would take a man to make sense of such varied data; they had left when he refused to even consider revising his opinion. Campbell merely looked thoughtful, then nodded. Good.

Rob placed a folder of papers on Campbell's desk. "If you think you might be interested, there are more details in there for you to peruse at your leisure. And we would like to invite you to dine with us this evening at our hotel, whether or not you wish to participate."

"And Mrs Campbell, of course," Jo added.

"Thank you, Mrs Delafield, I will be happy to discuss this further this evening. But I am not married."

"I can recommend the state, Campbell," Rob said, as the two men shook hands.

"That went well," Rob said as they stepped out onto the steep street and he gave Jo his arm. He looked in concern as she stretched her back. "Shall I find a hackney?"

"No, thank you. The walk will do me good." She took a few deep breaths, and Rob could see her gradually relax. Since their marriage, Rob had undertaken several investment investigations for Mr Stretton—sometimes alone, more often with Jo. When he and Jo first started seeing investors and factory managers together, she had often been subjected to dismissive comments on her business knowledge purely because she was female. Even when her contributions to a discussion were accepted, too many of the men had an unfortunate tendency to address their responses to Rob. That had happened less often recently, but he knew that the prospect of encountering such attitudes still made her uncomfortable before meeting new business acquaintances.

"We can look into some shops on the way," Jo added. "I'd like to buy Martha and Betty something for looking after the children so well."

"They deserve it," Rob said, resolving to give them some money as well when they reached home again. And some extra time off. "I know we miss the children terribly when we are away, but I cannot say bringing them with us this time has been a complete success, either." Although they hadn't had much choice—after living in a rented townhouse in London for several years, they had finally decided to buy a house just outside Town, in a village not far from the turnpike to Winchester. They had moved in before discovering exactly how much work was needed to bring it into good repair, and as a result the house was currently full of builders and decorators.

She sighed, but didn't disagree. "Poor Martha didn't expect to have to help Betty with the children as well as attending me. We have achieved a great deal, though."

They had: visiting the Yorkshire woollen mills and a coal mine in Durham that he and Jo had chosen to invest in, using some of the money her father had given to them on their marriage. They were proving to have been good choices. Then they had travelled on across the border to Edinburgh to see Campbell.

"We must come to Scotland again when the children are older," she went on. "I'd love to see the Highlands."

"You've been reading too many novels by that Scott fellow," Rob accused with a laugh. "But we could return home by way of the Lake District, if you wish? It might take a little longer overall, but we could stay somewhere for a few days for a proper rest."

"That would be lovely!" She leaned into him for a few steps in thanks.

"Are you sure you want to look for gifts today?" he asked. "I think you should rest before Campbell comes."

"Just rest?" She fluttered her eyelashes at him, and he laughed.

"Yes, just rest. This time." He would lie beside her with a book, enjoying their closeness. The project they had asked Campbell to join was one close to her heart, and he hoped they could discuss details when Campbell joined them for dinner. It would take them two or three days to get to Cumberland, where they would have time to spend long, leisurely hours in bed. And again when they finally reached their newly refurbished home, and in the years to come.