by Emma Fraser
‘I love it,’ she said honestly. ‘Do you know I performed a Caesarean section a few days ago. Mother and baby are doing so well that I may be able to discharge them in a few weeks.’ She was glad they were talking about medicine. It eased the churning in her stomach.
But when Maximilian smiled down at her, her heart thudded against her ribs.
‘So you’ve told me – several times, in fact.’ He laughed when she opened her mouth to protest. ‘But I don’t mind hearing about it as often as you wish to tell me. I like the way it makes your eyes light up.’
He reached over and touched her cheek with his finger. ‘I hope that light never leaves your eyes, liebchen.’ Then he bent his head and murmured in her ear, ‘There is something I must talk to you about. Perhaps we can shake off your maid for a little while when we get closer to the top.’
‘Ellie will make herself invisible if I ask her to,’ Isabel said, her heart beating like a trapped bird. ‘I have no secrets from her.’ That wasn’t true. She did have a secret from her, the one she couldn’t share with anyone. A cloud scudded across the sun and the daylight dimmed.
‘What is it?’ Maximilian asked, looking intently at her. ‘You looked sad for a moment.’
Sometimes she had the impression he could see into her soul. She made herself smile. ‘If I’m sad, it’s because you’ll be leaving soon.’
Perhaps she shouldn’t be so forward, but she couldn’t bring herself to dissemble. If Maximilian cared for her, she needed to let him know that she cared too. And if he didn’t? It was better that she knew it.
‘I like the way you always say what you think. I find it refreshing.’
‘It’s easier to speak one’s mind. Oh, for a world in which men and women can cut to the heart of the matter,’ Isabel said. ‘Talking as if in code is too complicated.’
‘That is another thing I admire about you. You’re not worried about convention. I could never admire a woman who cared more for what society thought of her than for doing the right thing.’
If possible, her heart beat even faster. If Maximilian knew her secret, he wouldn’t think so highly of her.
The carriage stopped at the foot of the hill, which was already crowded with vehicles of all shapes and sizes. Arthur’s Seat was a popular place for the people of Edinburgh to walk.
Maximilian helped her down and, with Ellie following a discreet distance behind, they set off up the hill. The path was busy, and Isabel and Maximilian nodded to acquaintances as they passed. As they walked, they talked about the latest surgical procedures and how chloroform and X-rays were making surgery safer. Once more, Isabel felt herself relax.
As they climbed higher, the air became colder and most other walkers fell away, apparently feeling they’d gone far enough. Maximilian checked his stride so that Isabel could keep up with him, but she was a fast walker and determined that he would make few allowances for her.
‘You’re quiet. I suspect you’re thinking about what I said, that our two countries might go to war.’
‘I don’t want to believe it! What possible gain is there for us in fighting each other over territory? Don’t we each have enough? The talk in the papers is that Germany is looking for an excuse to take over the Hungarian empire. What does that have to do with us?’
They had come to the top of the hill and stopped to look out over Edinburgh. The castle was to their right, the old town with its tablecloth of smoke immediately below, and a little further on, the New Town where Isabel lived with her mother.
‘I believe, my dear, that there is every chance we might find ourselves at war. I don’t think they would be calling me back if it wasn’t almost certain.’
‘But do you have to go? You must be able to stay in Edinburgh. The hospital needs surgeons of your calibre. And, as you said, your mother is English.’ Isabel had met Maximilian’s mother once when she had come to visit her son in Edinburgh. She had stayed in the North British Hotel but had come to tea with Isabel and her mother at Heriot Row. Isabel had found her charming – if a little condescending. Mama had discovered that Maximilian’s family was one of the richest in Germany; her delight and hope had been obvious.
Maximilian looked over his shoulder. ‘Ask your maid to stay behind,’ he said. ‘Then come a little further with me.’
He touched her hand and she shivered.
Maximilian was immediately concerned. ‘Are you cold?’ Before she could reply he had taken off his jacket and laid it across her shoulders. The wind had gained in strength with every step they had taken, but she knew it wasn’t the cold that was making her hands shake.
Ellie agreed readily to sit on a rock and wait for them, and Isabel let Maximilian lead her away from the track to a hollow where they would be hidden from anyone passing.
When he pulled her into his arms, she rested her head against his chest. Apart from her father and Andrew, it was the only time she’d been held in a man’s arms. Without warning, an image of Archie flashed into her head. He’d held her, too, and kissed her. There had been nothing frightening about his kiss except the way it had made her feel. However, she didn’t want to think of Archie.
Maximilian’s hands were on the small of her back, pressing her close. A delicious warmth spread through her body. She was surprised by how safe she felt in his arms. Perhaps now she could put away the memory of Charles for ever.
‘You must know I care deeply for you, Isabel,’ Maximilian whispered into her hair. ‘I think I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, and as I have come to know you, I fall more in love every day.’
Isabel’s heart sang. She cared for him too. Maximilian would never hurt her.
Tentatively she raised her face. He cupped it in both hands and pressed his lips to hers. Suddenly, sickeningly, the memory of Charles’s mouth on hers flooded back. Before she could stop herself, she jerked away.
Maximilian looked at her with surprise. ‘Please forgive me,’ he said. ‘I forget myself.’
‘It’s just…’ What could she tell him?
He pressed a finger to her lips. ‘You don’t have to say anything. I let myself forget for a moment that you are a gentlewoman and not experienced in love-making. I should not have tried to kiss you until we are engaged to be married. Now, say that you will forgive me.’
He looked so remorseful and disappointed that her heart ached for him. Wasn’t it time she drew on that courage her father had believed she had and told him why she had pulled away? But what had Maximilian said about becoming engaged? Had he proposed or not?
‘I have to admit I’m a little confused,’ Isabel admitted, with a shaky laugh. ‘I’m not certain of whether we are to be married or even engaged. As you said, I have little experience in such situations.’
Instead of dropping down on one knee or even returning her smile, his expression darkened. ‘My darling,’ he said, ‘we cannot be engaged. At least, not yet.’
Isabel’s head was spinning. ‘Why not? You said you loved me.’ Then a thought occurred to her that made her heart sink. ‘Is it because you are a baron and I am only a doctor’s daughter?’
He laughed, but without humour. ‘I wouldn’t care if you were a servant. I will marry the woman I want, and I want you.’ His eyes softened. ‘But I cannot ask you at the moment. I cannot even ask you to promise yourself to me. At least, not until I’m convinced that there will be no war.’
Isabel stared up at him, dismayed.
‘You must finish your clinical training and I must go back to Germany. Even if they allow you into Germany as my wife, what if I go to war and don’t return? You would be alone in a strange country. I can’t do that to the woman I love.’ He tipped her chin so he could look into her eyes. ‘I’m a selfish man. A better man would have gone without declaring himself, but I couldn’t bear the thought that you might marry someone else before I could return to you. I will not ask you to wait for me, but I had to tell you that I loved you.’
‘And I love you,’ Isabel said softly. ‘I wil
l wait for you to come back, however long that takes.’
‘We cannot even be engaged,’ Maximilian said. ‘I don’t want you to promise me anything. I only want you to know that I love you and one day I’ll come back for you. If you meet someone you can love before then…’ he hesitated, ‘…although I hate the thought of you in another man’s arms, I would understand.’
‘Oh, Maximilian, do you think I’m so fickle? Of course I’ll never love anyone else. I shall be here waiting for you when you return. As you say, with my work I have plenty to keep me occupied, although if you do go to war I shall worry about you. You must promise me that you will come back safely to me.’
She took his hand. ‘We have left Ellie alone long enough. We must return to her, if we don’t want people to gossip.’
As they turned to go, she tipped a smile at him. ‘We could have a practice together in Germany when we’re married. I’m certain there are as many there who need our help as here.’
Maximilian drew his brow together. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You know I’ve dreamed of starting my own practice. I didn’t see how it was possible without funds, but you have money. I know it’s not considered seemly for a woman to talk of such things but you already know that I am not seemly, so for us to set up a practice together should not be difficult.’
Maximilian’s frown deepened. ‘Liebchen, that is not possible.’
Alarmed that she had taken too much for granted in speaking of their future when they were not officially engaged, Isabel stumbled over her next words. ‘I know that you’re a surgeon, a great surgeon, and naturally you will take up a prestigious appointment in Germany once you’re able to, but I could send the rich patients to you and perhaps you could spend an afternoon or two consulting at our practice. Or perhaps I will join you in the operating theatre as a surgeon.’ The vision filled her with joy and she forgot to be anxious. ‘We’ll be the Drs Hoffman!’
‘But, my dear, as my wife, you will not be able to practise.’
‘Fiddlesticks! How can they stop us? I know they don’t like women doctors who work in hospitals to be married, but we can do as we wish. You told me that Germany has always been far ahead in its treatment of female doctors. You told me that the first woman graduated in Germany in the eighteenth century. Germany is clearly more modern in its thinking than we are in this country.’
Although Maximilian’s frown had disappeared, he still looked puzzled. ‘But, Isabel, it is I who do not wish you to practise. Naturally I wish you to finish your clinical training, but once we are married you will be the Baroness Hoffman and the chatelaine of my estates. You may, of course, do as much voluntary work as you wish, but to work as a doctor? I’m afraid that is out of the question. Besides,’ he lifted her chin with one of his elegant fingers and smiled down at her, ‘God willing, you will have our children to care for. So, you see, you will be far too busy to work.’
Isabel couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘But that is all I’ve ever dreamed of, Maximilian! I haven’t spent five years learning everything I need to know about medicine not to use my skills. You said yourself that I’m a good doctor. I’m not the kind of woman who will be content to spend her days holding dinners and luncheons. You know that. When we have children we will employ a nanny to help, and naturally I shall be with them whenever I can.’
Her heart was hammering, but this time it was not a nice feeling. Could Maximilian not see that she would never abandon medicine?
‘It is not for debate, my dear. When we marry, you will no longer practise medicine.’ His tone left her in no doubt that he meant what he said.
‘I thought you approved of women studying medicine,’ she cried.
‘I do. You know that. Only those women cannot be my wife. You must see that it is impossible. But, Isabel, you will not miss it. When we are married I will give you everything your heart desires.’
‘Except the one thing I truly want, Maximilian.’ Her throat was tight. ‘You will deny me that?’
‘And you would deny me my right as your husband to have you by my side, caring for our home and children?’
The hope and excitement she had allowed herself to feel were leaking away. She had dared to believe Maximilian was different from other men, but he was as bound by convention as everyone else. He wasn’t the man she had thought he was.
‘I’m sorry, Maximilian, but if you will not allow me to be a doctor, then I cannot be your wife.’
Maximilian returned to Germany a few days after his declaration – she couldn’t even call it a proposal – and sometimes Isabel wondered if she’d done the right thing in refusing him. Was there something wrong with her, unnatural, even, that she was prepared to deny herself, and him, the chance of a home, children and love? Other women were satisfied with that so why couldn’t she be? But she knew the answer. Medicine was in her blood and she couldn’t be truly happy unless she was working as a doctor. She prayed that Maximilian would, in time, come to understand that. If he loved her – if he truly loved her – he would love everything about her. And that included her need to be a doctor.
He’d called once, just before he’d left for London on his way to Germany, and she’d allowed herself to hope that he’d changed his mind and had decided he couldn’t live without her. But her hopes had come to nothing. He’d asked her once more if she would give up medicine when she became his wife and she’d told him no, sadly, but firmly.
She waited for a letter from him, to tell her that he’d made a mistake, that once the war was over, they’d meet again. But as the days passed without a word she began to feel angry. He’d led her to believe that he was different, that he shared her disdain for convention. She’d been wrong. Maximilian wasn’t the man she had thought he was.
Chapter 22
Edinburgh, August 1914
Two weeks after Maximilian had left, the unthinkable happened: Britain declared war on Germany.
Andrew had been one of the first to be sent to Europe and Isabel was terrified for him. Her mother was proud to have her son fighting for his country, but Isabel knew she was frightened that he wouldn’t come home. She prayed that Maximilian was safe in Germany. It was inconceivable that the two men she loved most might one day be forced to kill each other, and she tried not to think about it. Instead, she threw herself into her work with even greater vigour, finding some comfort there.
Her days as the resident house physician at Leith Hospital followed a similar routine. Every morning a probationer nurse knocked on her door to warn her that Mr Galbraith was about to pass through the gates of the hospital, and that morning was no different.
She tossed back the covers and leaped out of her narrow bed in the doctors’ residence, before opening the curtains to let in the sun. As the medical resident, she was expected to live in the hospital. Her room, not much bigger than a cupboard and sparsely furnished, was in the attic above the women’s medical ward.
After washing in the basin of warm water the ward maid had brought to her room, Isabel dressed hurriedly in her serviceable skirt and jacket. She arrived at the top of the stairs just in time to meet Mr Galbraith.
Side by side they entered the ward.
‘Good morning, Doctors,’ Sister said. ‘Would you like some tea, Mr Galbraith, before you start?’
Isabel groaned inwardly. She hoped he would say no. The tea-taking process was such a waste of time and she still had specimens from last night to look at under the microscope.
‘Not today, Sister,’ Mr Galbraith said, to Isabel’s relief. ‘There’s a meeting of the hospital governors this afternoon that I have to attend. Now that we’re at war, we have to make plans.’
Most people expected the war to be over by Christmas, but Isabel wasn’t so sure: the papers reported that the fighting was so fierce they had lost many more men than they’d expected. It was believed that others would soon be conscripted.
As soon as rounds were over and her duties on the ward concluded, Isabel made her wa
y to the outpatient reception area. This was the part of the day she liked best. Here, without the specialists looking over her shoulder, she could talk to the patients and treat them as if they were people. Unfortunately the number waiting for her attention meant she couldn’t spend as much time with them as she would have liked. She was pleased to see that the nurse working alongside her was Maud. Nurse Tully was quietly efficient, but always had a word for each patient. She also had a wicked sense of humour.
‘Dr MacKenzie, I’m glad it’s you. We have quite a crowd in.’
‘In that case, Nurse Tully, shall we get started?’
The nurse grinned. ‘With an extra pair of hands we might even get through this lot before we close the gates.’ She had a snub nose and her mouth was probably too large for her to be considered beautiful but her irrepressible good nature, ever-ready smile and willingness to help had endeared her to Isabel.
‘Does it ever end, Nurse Tully?’ Isabel asked, several hours later. ‘We’ve been at it all morning and still they keep coming.’
‘We could work night and day and still there would be more patients to see. Although,’ she dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, ‘it’s rather good fun, isn’t it? If only Matron allowed us nurses more time off, life would be perfect.’
Isabel suspected most people would be outraged to hear someone refer to treating the sick as ‘good fun’, but not her. She agreed with Maud. Nothing in life was as interesting as fighting disease or so rewarding as saving lives.
The day passed with a relentless round of patients as Isabel and Maud worked side by side. There were the usual numbers with tuberculosis, a fair number with scarlet fever, who were admitted to the fever wards, as well as cuts, broken limbs and a million other ailments, serious and less so.
Her last patient was a little boy who had been brought in by his older sister. The child’s swollen stomach immediately alerted Isabel. When his sister, who wasn’t much better nourished, stripped the clothes off her brother, his ribs were clearly visible through his skin.