CHAPTER

32

My menses returned every month like clockwork, and with the same vengeance as the first time, incapacitating me for at least two days each time. Strong doses of laudanum and a hot stone clutched to my stomach were the only things that brought me relief. I longed to get pregnant, if for no other reason than to keep the monthly pain at bay. At my lowest points, I wished my womb to be removed from my body by any means possible.

Aside from a few dark days per month, we were happy and content throughout the winter and early spring at the orphanage. Regular meals and physical activity worked wonders on Kindle and me, letting us heal from our various injuries and regain the weight we’d lost. Kindle’s limp had almost disappeared, relegating his wedding present to the bottom of the coatrack he made for the cabin. His injured eye had stopped seeping, and he said the discomfort had abated. I knew better. During my physician’s training, I had worked with soldiers who had lost their limbs in the war and knew the phantom limb was always physically felt, whether through pain, itching, or spasms. Discomfort made all the worse because there was no way to relieve it. I was confident the loss of an eye was the same, but Kindle assured me it was not. He was a terrible liar. At least to me.

When the movement in my right hand stopped improving, Mary gave me a needlepoint hoop and said, “You have two hands, don’t you?” My progress was written across the canvas. My stitches were still atrocious, but they were getting better. The burns on my arm healed so well that the scars were almost imperceptible, though I had little sensation there. My hair grew long enough I could almost pull it back into a bun, and Kindle complimented the growing flesh on my hips each time we made love, which was almost as often as our first days at the orphanage.

Any reservations Mary had about Sophia’s ability to be a midwife were put aside almost immediately. When I collapsed in the library, Mary had called out for help and Sophia had responded, following Mary’s orders without question or comment, and nursing me through the worst of the first, most painful, menses. I was never sure if Sophia’s motivation had been to prove worthy of the opportunity Mary gave her, or if she was afraid my death would mean her immediate placement. Regardless, from the first moment of her apprenticeship, she had proved to be able, eager, intelligent, and most important to Mary, tractable. The other orphans would be serviceable midwives and nurses; Sophia proved to have a talent even Mary couldn’t deny. If a place in a medical college could be found, she would make an even better doctor.

One day in late March, I was sitting in a lawn chair watching Kindle hoe the garden in preparation for planting when Sophia came up with a letter.

“From Charlotte?” I asked, rhetorically. She was the only correspondent I had, by necessity. I’d considered writing Harriet Mackenzie to let her know we were alive, but decided against it. I didn’t know what repercussions she’d faced for helping us and didn’t want to take the chance she wasn’t at the New York address she’d given me and the letter might be opened by someone on her behalf. I thought of Harriet often, hoping she was well and happy.

Sophia sat down on the ground next to me and waited for me to parse the code and read the letter to her. It had become something of a routine. Sophia was fascinated by the life of leisure Lady Charlotte MacUspaig led as the mistress of an estate in Scotland. It took reading a few words to realize Charlotte hadn’t written the letter in code and wonder why, when I hit upon the critical sentence.

Mother and Father died within days of each other. Father took ill with the flu and Mother would let no one but herself nurse him, confident as always that she was the only one who could do a thing right. Father’s weak heart meant he died quickly. Mother suffered for five days more. Mother had insisted I not come to London and risk my unborn child, a piece of advice I’m relieved and pained to have taken.

As you know, after the accusation against you last year Mother insisted Father remove any mention of you from his will. Since we agreed it wouldn’t be safe for more than me and Edwin to know about your adventures, Mother and Father died without knowing the truth of your innocence …

I dropped the letter into my lap, tears making it impossible to continue reading. Kindle and Sophia stopped talking. “Laura? What’s wrong?” Kindle said.

I held the letter out to him. He read in silence.

“What happened?” Sophia asked. “Is Lady Charlotte well?”

“Aunt Emily died?” Kindle said, voice filled with regret.

Sophia gasped, having heard enough Aunt Emily stories from me and from Charlotte’s letters to feel the shock.

I nodded, but couldn’t speak. As much as I’d enjoyed being at the orphanage, the idea of sailing to England and reuniting with my family had gotten me through many dark days. With the loss of Aunt Emily and Uncle Robert, my blood relations consisted of Charlotte and her brother, Charles (who’d never liked or approved of me).

“How far did you read?” Kindle asked.

“They died without knowing the truth.”

Kindle folded the letter, put it in his pocket, and helped me stand. “Let’s get you to the cabin.”

“Do you need my help?” Sophia asked.

“No, thank you. Tell Mary we’ll be up for lunch.”

Once in the cabin, Kindle pulled me into a strong embrace. “I’m so sorry.”

I cried into his shoulder for a long while. Finally, I pulled away and sniffed loudly. Kindle pulled a kerchief from his pocket and handed it to me. I dabbed my eyes and blew my nose. “What did the rest of the letter say?”

“Charlotte had hoped her father hadn’t ignored her mother’s entreaties to leave you a small income, but you weren’t mentioned.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“No. Though Charlotte cares very much. She is prepared to give you a gift to make up for it, but there’s a condition.”

“What?”

“You sail to Scotland to visit her.”

“Me? I’m not going without you.”

Kindle smiled. “She invited me, too. She’s booking passage for us on a steamer out of New Orleans. She says she will cable the details to my sister when she has them.”

I covered my mouth with my hand. “My God. She’s turned into her mother.” I burst into hysterical laughter, which turned into tears. Kindle brought me into his chest again while I apologized for being a blubbering mess. Heightened and fluctuating emotions always preceded my menses. “Dark days are coming.”

Kindle grimaced. He hated seeing me in such pain and being helpless to fix it. I’d discovered in the previous six months that Kindle got great satisfaction from fixing things and took it as a personal affront to his masculinity when he couldn’t.

“Maybe it won’t come this month,” he said.

“Maybe.” I stroked his hair, which he’d let grow long to further alter his appearance from his days in the Army. Between the eye patch and long hair, he looked nothing like Captain William Kindle of Fort Richardson. But, I’d come to like this version very much. Kindle was more relaxed, had a ready smile, and was a voracious flirt.

“Do you want to go to Scotland?”

“I assumed we would go sometime this summer. Now is as good a time as any.”

“But the garden, and trying to find a place for Sophia.”

“They’ve done the garden without me for years. And, Sophia will be here when we return. Unless you think we won’t.”

“Of course we will. Although, if Charlotte has grown accustomed to everyone doing her bidding without question, leaving may be a challenge.”

“I can handle Lady Charlotte MacUspaig,” Kindle said. He hugged me again. “I’ll go tell Mary. Rest.” He kissed me on the temple and left.

I waited for the knock I was sure would come and opened the door to Sophia’s stricken face. I stepped aside and she walked into the cabin.

“You’re leaving?”

“You need to stop eavesdropping on people. I love you, but it’s a reprehensible habit.”

Sophia dropped her eyes to the ground. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Yes, we’re leaving. My cousin wants to see me, and meet Kindle.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know. If we leave soon, we can be back before the winter storms in the Atlantic.”

“But, it could be longer.”

I took Sophia’s hands. “You’ll be fine, Sophia. You’ve almost surpassed me in midwifery skills.”

Sophia scoffed at the idea.

“I said almost,” I teased. “It’s time you worked on your own.”

Sophia shook her head.

“Yes, you know it is. I was never going to be here forever. Going to my family was always our plan. It’s just been moved up a couple of months.”

“She’ll put me in service, I know she will.”

“If she was going to put you in service she would have done it months ago. You’ve proved yourself worthy of more a dozen times over.”

Sophia was openly crying now. I hugged the young girl. “There’s no reason to be frightened. You’ll stay and teach the younger girls what you’ve learned while Sister Magdalena works on getting you a position at a medical school.”

Sophia pulled away, her face full of astonishment. “What?”

“I didn’t want to say anything until something was settled.”

“I’m going to medical school?”

I sighed. “I don’t know, Sophia. I honestly don’t. We’re going to try, but there’s a lot against us.”

The resistance that was integral to Sophia’s personality reared its head. “Because I’m a Negro.”

“Yes. Unfortunately, you’re too dark to pass for a white woman.” At Sophia’s expression of wonder, I said, “It would have been the easiest solution. We will figure something out. You’re only sixteen. You have a few years before college is an option. What you have to do now is prove you can stand on your own two feet. That your success isn’t because I’m here holding your hand.”

“You mean I have to prove myself to Sister Magdalena all over again.”

I placed my hands on Sophia’s shoulders. “Sweetheart, you’re going to have to prove yourself over and over to people throughout your life. That’s women’s lot in life, especially women who want more than home and hearth. Are you up for it?”

Sophia straightened her shoulders. “Hell yes, I am.”

“Good girl.” I reached inside my shirt, pulled out my medicine bag, and placed it around Sophia’s neck. “Keep this for me while I’m gone.”

“But, it’s your protection.”

I patted Sophia’s cheek. “I’ll be fine. I have Kindle.”