Not Quite a Wife

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Not Quite a Wife Page 29

by Mary Jo Putney


  Keeping his voice calm, Daniel reached for his heavy scissors and cut away the stays. The bodice of her gown was also ruined, and the thin shift was stuck to the laceration by dried blood. Dampening the shift allowed him to pull it gently from the wound, though Jane gasped as he peeled it away.

  “Luckily this isn’t deep, though I imagine it hurts like Hades.” Particularly since he was now cleaning the wound with gin. Jane would probably carry the scars of this night for the rest of her life, but at least this one would be concealed.

  He continued his soft stream of commentary to soothe her. Laurel assisted him, preserving Jane’s modesty to the extent that she could.

  When Daniel finished cleaning the wound, Laurel said, “You’ll need new clothing, Jane. Daniel, could you bring some garments from our supply?”

  Daniel might not be as adept at choosing female clothing as Laurel, but they had a standing rule that a woman who had just been battered wouldn’t be left alone with a man, even him. He nodded and got to his feet, feeling the weight of the long day. “Do you have a place to go tonight? Family? Friends?”

  Gaze still downcast, Jane whispered, “A . . . a friend will take me in.”

  “That’s enough for tonight, but this can’t be allowed to happen again,” Laurel said firmly. “We’ll summon the magistrate and you can bring charges against the man who beat you.”

  “No!” Jane clutched her ruined clothing close, her voice frantic. “The only way I can be safe is by leaving Bristol. A magistrate cannot help.”

  Daniel frowned. Jane seemed determined not to return to the brute, but too often women went back to the men who had injured them because they had no other choice. While he was out of the room, Laurel would counsel the girl.

  Jane was not the first patient in need of clothing, so Laurel had filled two large wardrobes with garments for both sexes and all ages. Some were donated by local churches; others she’d found in rag shops. After patching and washing, the clothing was clean and respectable, if not fashionable.

  The girl needed a loose smock that wouldn’t hurt her injured back. Shoes? No, she was wearing sturdy half boots. Swiftly he collected what she needed and tucked everything into a simple canvas bag that she could carry easily. Lastly, he chose a deep bonnet and a cloak that would cover up her injuries and bandages.

  After he delivered the garments, Laurel shooed him from the examination room so she could help Jane dress. He frowned as he closed the door behind him. He and Laurel offered services, not money. Almost all of the generous allowance provided by Laurel’s estranged husband was spent running the infirmary and cash was tight.

  But sometimes exceptions must be made. His office was only a few steps away, so he unlocked the door and opened the hidden desk drawer where he kept money. Jane didn’t look like she had a penny to bless herself with. How much would it cost for her to run away and keep herself until she healed?

  He couldn’t bear to think of her returning to her violent husband. He collected twenty pounds worth of coins and small bills and tucked them into a small cloth purse. It was a substantial sum, enough to get her away from Bristol and keep her for two or three months if she was careful. Then he returned to the examination room, reminding himself that he couldn’t save everyone. Not even close.

  Jane was bundled warmly in the old cloak, her bruised face and bandaged head concealed by the brim of the bonnet. Laurel was frowning. “You’re sure you’ll be all right? You can spend the rest of the night here in the infirmary.”

  “I can’t,” the girl said, her voice stronger now. “I will be fine, truly. I don’t have to go far.”

  Daniel suspected she wouldn’t stay because she feared she might be followed. He hoped she was telling the truth about having a friend who would take her in for the night. She might be planning to hide in a stable or church. That would do for one night if she was planning on leaving the next day. “You have some place to go if you leave Bristol? Family, by preference.”

  “There is no one, but I shall manage. I’m not afraid to work.” She gave a brittle laugh. “Or to walk.”

  Daniel held out the purse. “Take this. It should be enough to keep you until you can establish yourself elsewhere.”

  She gasped and tried to hand the money back. “I can’t take this! You’ve already done so much for me.”

  He caught her hand, speaking slowly to emphasize his words. “We don’t want to think of you leaving here and falling into a situation that’s even worse.”

  Jane stared up into his face. The eye that wasn’t swollen shut was a light, clear blue, and it held shadows that no young girl should know.

  She bent and kissed his hand with her bruised lips. “Thank you,” she said in a raw, husky voice.

  She released his hand and tucked the purse inside her cloak, then turned to Laurel. “Thank you both so much. I shall never forget your kindness. If there is ever anything I can do to repay you . . .”

  Daniel said firmly, “Make wise decisions. Be kind to others. That will suffice.”

  She ducked her head again, then turned and left the room. Daniel and Laurel followed her to the door, watching silently as the girl descended the few steps to the street and turned left. There was something heartbreakingly gallant about her slim figure as she disappeared into the night.

  “The house behind us is for sale,” Laurel said. “I want to buy it and create a sanctuary for women and children who need shelter from brutal men.”

  “I think that’s an excellent idea,” Daniel said immediately. A shelter for women like Jane would be a true godsend. “Do we have the money?”

  “I’ll find the money!” Laurel said with rare fierceness.

  “Then we’ll do it.” Daniel put his arm around his sister’s shoulders and gave a comforting squeeze. “At the moment, though, we both need food and strong tea.”

  Laurel exhaled, relaxing under his arm. “What good advice, doctor. There’s a nice bean soup on the hob.”

  “Perfect.” But before Daniel closed the door, he gazed at the shadows where Jane had vanished. As the back of his neck prickled, he had the uncanny feeling that he would someday see her again.

  ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2014 by Mary Jo Putney

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4201-2716-4

  First Zebra Books Electronic Edition: September 2014

  eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-2719-5

  eISBN-10: 1-4201-2719-5

 

 

 


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