Chapter 4

Doctor Xaviar Sinclair had not changed since she’d first met him last autumn. He was still arrogant and superior and had no comprehension of those who had not been lucky enough to enjoy the life of privilege. And she was angry!

“Gentlemen…men in general, do not give any consideration to the women. The men enjoy a moment or two of pleasure, but the women are left ruined, and sometimes with child. Even if that woman is a beloved wife, doing her duty to provide an heir, it is she who must suffer from illness, then grow heavy and uncomfortable with child before she endures the agonizing pains of birth, too often not surviving, all so that a man can proclaim he has a son and then wonders when he can bed her again. He suffers not a moment of discomfort between conception and birth, and even then, the mother needs time to recover while he goes about enjoying his life without a care while crowing about his child, especially if it is a son, as if he was solely responsible for their creation.”

Olivia stomped to the decanter and added more brandy to her glass.

She was more emotional than usual and blamed herself for Eve’s death.

“It is not your fault, Olivia.”

She turned to find Dr. Valentine standing in the doorway to her library.

“I should…” She almost said that she should not have left but didn’t want Doctor Sinclair asking where she had been, even though that was not his concern. “I should have sent for you sooner.”

“How long had she labored before my arrival?” Dr. Valentine asked.

Olivia poured a glass of brandy for Dr. Valentine and handed it to him. “Maybe four hours.”

“That is hardly any time for a first birth. You know that.”

“I should have known,” she argued.

“You did. Several physicians and midwives would have left her to labor for hours because it is expected to take long, or given up and waited for her to die after deciding that with so much blood loss, the child couldn’t possibly survive either. You recognized distress earlier than most and saved a child,” Dr. Valentine insisted. “Even if you had known with the first pains, there is no guarantee she could have been saved.”

He spoke the truth, but it was not easy to accept.

As for Sinclair, he said nothing, which was unlike him.

“While I am here, is anyone else ill or injured?”

She blew out a sigh. “We have five children who have sniffles, low fever and mild cough that were sent to bed a few days ago. We put them in one room together, but it has likely already spread to the others.” She sipped her brandy and anticipated what was to come. “We will likely have a fortnight of sickness as they all come down with it and then recover.” Olivia sank down into a chair. Anger accompanied her weariness and she sat forward. “I shall write her father in the morning.”

“He turned her out,” Sinclair reminded her.

Olivia pinned him with a heated glare. “And I will make certain that he knows what became of his daughter and how she died, and where she will be buried.”

Sinclair said nothing further, just offered a nod.

“I will come by in the late morning to check on the children. If they worsen before then, send for me.” Dr. Valentine finished his brandy and set it on the table. Sinclair did the same.

“Thank you for coming, Dr. Valentine…and Dr. Sinclair.”

Xavier followed Orlando out of Westbrook House, and for the first time, he was without words.

Lady Olivia’s speech had been passionate and angry, and he supposed she was correct. What did he know of carrying a child and giving birth other than what he had studied and witnessed?

In truth, he’d not given it much thought at all. Procreation was necessary for the continuation of man. It also had not been his area of interest. Though, he would certainly give it more consideration in the future.

“Would you care to join me at White’s,” Xavier asked his old friend as they paused on the street and hailed a passing hackney.

Orlando chuckled. “I am not a member.”

“Then you shall be my guest.” Xavier was not ready to return home and there was much he still wished to discuss.

“Very well. I could use another brandy. Death is always discomforting, especially when one is young.”

It wasn’t long before they arrived at White’s and the two found a quiet table in the back.

“What is on your mind?” Orlando asked after they had requested their brandy.

“I am coming to realize that my current area of study no longer interests me as much as before.” Perhaps it is because with this last paper on amnesia, he had nothing else to write. Papers had been started but he had no desire to complete them.

“You had gone to medical college because you wanted to understand the mind,” Orlando reminded him.

“Which is turning out to be futile, I am afraid.” He took a sip of his brandy. “If a bone is broken, you set it and it will heal. The same cannot be said for a broken brain, nor can we predict when or why someone might slip into madness and if they do, there is no cure.”

“One day there may be cures, if men such as you continue to make that study their work.”

“It is likely not to happen in my lifetime.” Xavier settled back in his chair. “I felt so bloody useless when I was unable to help my own sister.”

“I think you are being harder on yourself than you should be.”

“I was no help to you this evening either, even though I was at the bedside,” Xavier explained. “Lady Olivia knew what to expect, even what you needed without being asked. I stood and watched, not certain what to do.”

It had also aggravated him to no end. He should have been the assistant, not her and it galled Xavier that Lady Olivia was far more skilled in a sickroom than he had ever been. Worse, she had witnessed his ineptitude.

“Lady Olivia has assisted me many times with injuries, illnesses, and a few minor surgeries. It is a shame that she cannot attend the medical college. She would make a fine surgeon.”

Xavier frowned. “It sounds as if she already is.”

He had questioned her when she had inserted herself into the arguments of how best to treat Elaina’s amnesia, believing that she knew as much as him. At the time, Xavier had been insulted by her impudence, but after tonight, he could understand why she felt comfortable in doing so.

“Lady Olivia has the experience to be a doctor, surgeon, apothecary, and midwife.”

“Without an education?” Xavier questioned.

“She reads every medical journal that has ever been written and has been known to attend lectures whenever she is given the opportunity.”

Except, she had never attended one of his or Xavier would have noticed.

They finished their brandy as they discussed Xavier’s family as well as Orlando’s and then left White’s. Orlando stood by the curb to hail a hackney, but Xavier was not ready to return home, nor was he in the mood to attend any of the functions later this evening.

He could return inside to sup as it was nearing the dinner hour, but Xavier was not hungry.

In fact, he wasn’t certain what he wanted to do with himself and was still rather shaken from watching a young woman die in such a tragic set of circumstances.

When the hackney arrived, a gentleman stepped out, but Orlando paused instead of entering.

“Good afternoon, Lord Clermont.”

Xavier turned and wondered if Orlando would say something to the viscount. These matters were not usually discussed in public.

“Dr. Valentine,” Clermont greeted and then noted Xavier standing there. “Dr. Sinclair.”

“I would like to congratulate you,” Orlando said, and Xavier stepped forward.

“Why is that?” Clermont asked as he neared the door to White’s.

“On the birth of your son,” Orlando offered.

Clermont stiffened and turned to them. “I have no son and it is cruel to jest.”

The viscount had power because of his title. Orlando was but the son of missionaries, though that had never stopped his friend from speaking his mind. Except, today they stood outside of White’s and as Xavier was the son of an earl, perhaps the news would be better received from him before Clermont called Valentine out.

“You do,” Xavier offered. “Though, it is a shame his mother died while bringing him into the world.”

Some of the color drained from Clermont’s face. “Who do you speak of? If she claimed that I…”

“Miss Eve Jameson,” Xavier offered. “Your former mistress delivered a son today and had claimed you to be the father.”

Clermont put his hand against the building for support. “A son?”

“A very healthy son,” Orlando answered.

“Eve is dead?”

If Xavier was not mistaken, there was anguish in his eyes and voice, as if he had cared. Except, the viscount had turned Miss Eve out.

“It is a shame that only your mistress could provide that which your wife could not. You have only daughters with her. Is that correct?” Xavier was not certain why he goaded the viscount, except perhaps it was because he had watched a pretty, young miss breathe her last tonight, and the words spoken by Lady Olivia had struck a nerve.

Clermont’s eyes grew hard. “Where is my son?” he demanded.

“You intend to claim him?” Orlando asked in disbelief.

“Yes! I do.”

“I am certain your wife will be pleased,” Xavier offered dryly.

Though Clermont did need a son, he could not pass his title to a bastard.

“If you really want your son, I am certain you will find a way to locate him,” Orlando said as he stepped into the hackney.

“You are not going to tell me?” Clermont demanded.

“No,” Xavier answered as he followed Orlando into the conveyance. “If you had truly cared about Miss Eve, or the child she carried, you would not have abandoned them.”

The hackney pulled away, leaving a dumbfounded Clermont staring after them, which gave Xavier a bit of satisfaction.