The Heart's Appeal

by Jennifer Delamere

  This woman had very little in the way of subtlety, yet she was alarmingly persuasive. She would be a worthy opponent in a court of law. He had the feeling she’d used her forceful brand of persuasion to mow down opponents in the medical field in this same fashion. He spared a moment to feel sorry for those men. He should perhaps be glad that his profession was not yet open to women.

  Yet he still had one argument left. “Spending time with you will have the appearance of a conflict of interest. It could jeopardize my work. After saving my physical life, will you now ask me to sacrifice my livelihood in return?”

  “There is as yet no official connection between me and the School of Medicine.”

  “Do you know any of the students or teachers there? Have you met them, spent any time with them?”

  “I have spent some time with them,” she admitted.

  “That’s really why you’re here, isn’t it?” he said, seizing on her words. “You’re after some kind of retribution.”

  “Certainly not.” She looked sincerely appalled at this suggestion, but Michael had seen enough displays of false emotion in the courtroom to know he should not take anything at face value.

  “Then why are you asking me to teach you Latin?”

  “I already explained my reasons. This need only be between us. I certainly will not tell anyone else if you think it best.” She pierced him with a look that was all fiery challenge.

  Absurdly, Michael could not help noticing the freckles along her nose and upper cheeks. It was disconcerting that a woman like this should have freckles. It was not the complexion he normally associated with strong, no-nonsense women.

  Heaven help him. He was contemplating an association with someone too close to the adversary for comfort, a woman he barely knew, and he would be counting on her to keep a secret.

  Nothing good could come from any of this.

  He could hear his sister in the hallway speaking to a servant. She would no doubt enter the parlor at any moment. Thoughts raced through his mind, careening into a jumbled mass at the forefront of his consciousness. Interestingly, the effect was not too different from the moment his head had slammed through that carriage window.

  First, he did not have the time to be a schoolgirl’s tutor.

  Second, the tongue-lashing he’d endure from his sister would be as painful as anything he’d experienced in the accident. He’d already seen jealousy—jealousy!—in his sister’s eyes, which he assumed could only be on Laura’s account. He would have to quell her fears on that subject.

  Third, and most importantly, this woman had a personal and contrary interest in the outcome of a lawsuit that was critically important to Michael’s career. Spending any time at all with her, much less hour upon hour of giving Latin lessons, would be asking for an exponentially large amount of trouble. Michael was on the verge of obtaining everything he’d been chasing since his father’s death. It would be folly to do anything to endanger his ultimate success.

  In short, it was entirely out of the question.

  Except that she had saved his life.

  She had appealed to his sense of honor. Somehow, she’d managed to find it, despite his misgivings.

  He also realized he wanted to see her again, despite the problems it would cause. After all, who wouldn’t be fascinated by someone who had saved his life? Especially a woman like this, with so many appealing contradictions?

  Therefore, he did the only sensible thing. He threw all caution to the wind.

  “All right. I’ll do it.”

  CHAPTER

  6

  JULIA HASTENED DOWN THE STREET, dodging the other pedestrians. She was going to be late for her algebra lecture if she didn’t move swiftly. But it had been worth it. She didn’t know what had inspired her to ask for Latin tutoring from Michael Stephenson. She only had a sense, deep in her soul, that this was what the Lord wanted her to do.

  Barely managing to squeeze between a streetlamp and a vendor with a coal-heated cart of meat pies, she turned the corner onto Harley Street and raced the final half block to the main building of Queen’s College. She pulled open the large oak door and hurried down the hallway, just making it to her seat as Mr. Johnston was beginning his algebra lecture.

  He eyed Julia as she plopped down breathless next to Lisette. “You are very nearly late, Miss Bernay.”

  “Yes, sir. Very nearly.” With a smile that she hoped was appeasing, she leaned forward, signaling that she was ready to focus on his every word, ready to learn. She hoped he would not realize that she had neglected to bring her algebra book with her.

  He turned to address the class. “All right, we are going to begin where we left off yesterday, on page 161, with some applications for quadratic equations. . . .”

  For the past ten months, Julia had focused diligently on her studies, not caring a whit about algebra for its own sake but knowing it was one of the hurdles to overcome in order to get to medical school. But today she found it nearly impossible to concentrate. Her thoughts kept returning to her meeting with Michael Stephenson.

  Not only was her mind at ease that he was recovering from the accident, but now things had taken a most interesting turn. She could hardly believe he had agreed to her request. If he truly was doing it out of moral obligation—an argument she’d thought up on the spur of the moment—then he was, at heart, an honorable man. She would not do anything to damage his career, no matter whom he worked for. She could not help thinking that if God had opened a door for her to receive this much-needed tutoring, then whatever it led to could only be for the best. Already her mind was buzzing forward to next week, when they would have their first lesson.

  It wasn’t until later, when Mr. Johnston had put the ladies in pairs to work together on solving a problem, that Julia began to consider what a challenge it was going to be to keep her future meetings with Michael a secret.

  Lisette nudged her and whispered, “So what happened? You must tell me!”

  “Things went well.” As much as possible, Julia was determined to stick to the truth.

  “So you saw him? Spoke with him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Merveilleux!” Lisette nearly bounced in her seat from excitement. “Did you point out to him that he is alive today thanks to a woman with medical training?”

  “Mr. Stephenson is fully cognizant of the debt he owes me.”

  “I don’t suppose it changed his mind about the case, though.”

  “We did not discuss the merits of the lawsuit,” Julia replied, which was true. “However, I will keep praying that our meeting today will have an impact on him somewhere down the line.”

  At the mention of prayer, Lisette rolled her eyes. “We don’t need prayer!” she hissed. “We need action!”

  “Shh!” Julia admonished, pointing to where Mr. Johnston stood just within earshot as he answered a question from a student at another table. Something in Lisette’s agitated tone must have reached him, for he turned and glanced in their direction. Julia tapped the paper with her pencil to bring Lisette’s focus back to the problem they were supposed to be solving. For Mr. Johnston’s benefit, she said just loudly enough to be heard, “In comparing these two functions, I believe the pattern could be that the coefficient for x is minus the coefficient for y. . . .”

  Once Mr. Johnston’s attention had turned away from them, Julia continued quietly, “Prayer and action are not mutually exclusive, you know.”

  But Lisette only repeated “Prayer!” with a scoff, adding, “I still say we ought to storm his office.”

  “What good would that do? They work for Lord Westbridge. I’m sure his lordship could hire any number of lawyers to pursue his ends.”

  Lisette murmured in disgust, but she couldn’t deny the truth of what Julia was saying. They returned to their work, the subject closed for now.

  The conversation showed Julia how important it was that she act with discretion. She was going to keep her promise, and she was going to ensure that Michael S
tephenson kept his. It would be wrong of her to endanger his livelihood. As a barrister, he had to do his utmost to represent whoever hired him. Still, Julia would continue to pray that her actions could impact the outcome of the case for the better. How this would happen, she did not know, but a few insurmountable odds did not diminish her outlook. That was what miracles were for, after all.

  “Michael, you cannot tell me you are serious.”

  Corinna sank onto the sofa and looked at him, aghast. Michael wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her so pale. He wanted to blame it on the pregnancy, but even if that were true, his news could not have helped matters. He was finally well enough to return to his own lodgings, but he had to ask this one favor of Corinna before he left.

  A maid entered the room, bringing the tea service, which gave Michael an excuse not to answer right away. He waited until the maid had finished setting up everything and departed, and then he shut the door so that he and Corinna could talk without anyone overhearing.

  “Corinna, we cannot deny what Miss Bernay did for me. It was a massive stroke of good luck that she was there—some might even call it providential.”

  Corinna gave a little sniff. Like Michael, she did not worry overly much about ascribing supernatural causes to life’s random situations.

  “Aren’t you grateful that she saved your only brother’s skin?” he asked.

  “You know I am.” A strained look in her eyes gave more than a hint of the devastation she would have felt if Michael died. “It’s just that this situation has brought a new set of worries.”

  He sat next to her on the sofa. “What worries?”

  She set about pouring a cup of tea, her movements smooth, almost mechanical, as she performed the task she’d done countless times. As though she were taking comfort in the routine. Only the slight shake of her hand as she held the cup out to Michael betrayed her true emotions.

  “Don’t you find it galling that she requires this favor of you in return? I don’t see anything very altruistic in that.”

  It was hard for Michael not to point out how often Corinna had done kindnesses with a full expectation of getting something in return. But at the moment he wanted to win over his sister, not roil her. “Whatever her reasons, the fact remains that I owe her a great debt. I found I was . . . well, honor-bound to say yes.”

  “You are honor-bound to do the job Lord Westbridge is paying you for! Not to play tutor to some woman who wants to hold you under obligation. Won’t she try to influence you? Is she trying to find some way to ruin the libel suit? What would that do to your career? To everything you’ve been working for?”

  Michael wiped a hand through his hair. “Do you imagine I haven’t thought of these things already? I know what a fine line I will be treading. But she is not actually a student at the medical school, so there is no legal reason why I must keep a distance from her. And consider that she might well have asked for much more than this. It seems a very light thing indeed, compared with what might have been.”

  Corinna began to pour milk into her tea. “I still don’t like it. How will you keep this news from spreading? You can’t sit with her in your chambers, and certainly not someplace like the London library. Anybody might see you there.”

  “I’m glad you and I agree on that point, at least. I would like to hold the lessons here.”

  Corinna set the little pitcher of milk down with a clatter. “What did you say?”

  “Perhaps in this parlor? I wouldn’t want to tie up David’s study, as he often has meetings there with his clients.”

  His sister merely stared at him. “I see what you are after, Michael Stephenson. You want to include me in this scheme so that I can say nothing against it.”

  “It’s nothing of the sort, I promise. I thought this might assuage your concerns. You will be able to see exactly what is happening.” He took his sister’s hand. “I promise I will not throw away the gains we’ve worked for. But I am asking you for this favor. I beg that you will at least consider doing it out of love for me. If you give me the benefit of the doubt on this, I will be forever grateful.”

  As much as the two of them enjoyed sparring with one another, Michael knew that whenever he appealed to her in this way, her tender love for him—which bordered on motherly at times, given that she had in many ways fulfilled that role in his life—could not be denied. He saw her face visibly soften, felt her hand relax in his. Were her eyes growing a bit misty as well?

  She gave a sigh. “All right. But you cannot meet here on Tuesdays or Thursdays, for those are my at-home days for receiving callers.”

  Michael exhaled in relief. If he had not been able to persuade her, he had no idea what he would have done. “Agreed.”

  Corinna withdrew her hand, ostensibly to tuck a stray bit of hair back in her overly tidy bun. He saw a tiny smile break her somber countenance. It held a hint of triumph, which immediately raised Michael’s suspicions.

  “Corinna, what are you thinking?”

  She smoothed the folds of her gown and picked up her teacup. “I was just thinking how marvelous it is that you are up and about. Does this mean you’ll be attending my dinner party tomorrow night? Miss Maynard is coming, and she’s anxious to see you again.”

  One thing he knew very well about his sister was that she rarely gave out favors without asking something in return. He’d thought perhaps this one time things had been different. He ought to have known better.

  Her request also confirmed that she feared Julia might pose a threat to his relationship with Laura. He had to reassure her that was not possible. “Yes, Corinna, I will be at your party. By the way, did I tell you I am having lunch with Viscount Delaford next week?”

  That bit of news changed Corinna’s whole demeanor. “You are?” she said eagerly. “Where?”

  “At the club. Don’t get too excited just yet. Think of this as . . . the preliminary negotiations.”

  “But still!” Corinna was beside herself with joy. “You and Laura will be engaged soon. I just know it!”

  Michael felt almost guilty for so easily swaying the course of the conversation to something that would distract his sister from her worries. But if it kept her from opposing his plans for the Latin lessons, it was worth it.

  CHAPTER

  7

  JULIA WALKED DOWN THE MAIN HALL of the London School of Medicine for Women. Although she had been to the school a few times since her arrival in London, it still gave her a thrill whenever she entered this building. Today was even more exciting, because she was here at the request of Dr. Elizabeth Garrett Anderson. Julia had long been in awe of this woman, who had done so much to advance the cause of women in medicine. In addition to being cofounder of the school and one of its teachers, Dr. Anderson had her own busy practice and worked with several clinics. Julia didn’t know why she’d been invited to this meeting, but she hoped it pertained to her plans to enter the school in the fall. She could hardly wait to have the opportunity to learn from teachers such as Dr. Anderson, who had so much knowledge and experience.

  The door to Dr. Anderson’s office was open. As Julia approached, she could see the doctor was seated at her desk. Another woman sat opposite her, with her back to the door. She was leaning forward, her elbows practically on the desk, and she and Dr. Anderson were in deep discussion.

  Julia gave a light tap on the door. “I hope I’m not interrupting?”

  Dr. Anderson motioned her forward. “Welcome, Miss Bernay. Please come in and close the door behind you, if you would.”

  The other woman turned as Julia entered, regarding her with curiosity. Julia returned the look with equal interest. She was a young woman of Julia’s age, and her face was covered in smallpox scars. Dr. Anderson introduced her as Lady Edith Morton.

  Lady Edith frowned, and Dr. Anderson added, “She prefers to be addressed simply as Miss Morton.” The casual way she said it hinted that she considered these niceties irrelevant. “Of course, in another year we’ll be referring to her as Dr
. Morton.”

  “Exactly right,” said Miss Morton with an air of satisfaction. She extended a hand to Julia. “How do you do?”

  Despite Miss Morton’s air of self-confidence, Julia could see a wariness in her eyes, as though bracing herself for the usual alarm or distaste a person might show when seeing her scarred face for the first time. But Julia did not hesitate to return her handshake warmly. “I am happy to meet you! I understand you are a stellar student.”

  “Thank you. It’s true—my father made the mistake of overeducating me when I was young.”

  The bitterness beneath the sarcasm was impossible to miss, a sign that what Julia had heard about the acrimony between Edith and her father, the Earl of Westbridge, was true. Most people believed the earl’s anger over Edith’s decision to study medicine was the real reason he was trying to close the school. Julia admired Miss Morton for persevering in obtaining her medical license despite the powerful opposition of her father.

  Dr. Anderson said, “Miss Bernay, I invited you here in the hope that you can tell us about the accident on the Underground and the events that followed. We have naturally read about it in the paper.” She pointed to a newspaper lying on her desk. It was folded open to the same article Julia had scoured on the day after the incident. “However, I’ve been led to understand by one of your fellow students, Miss Lisette Blanco, that the newspaper lacks certain details that would be of interest to us here at the school.”

  Lisette had come to see Dr. Anderson? Julia hoped that wasn’t Lisette’s idea of action. She was not entirely pleased with having been put on the spot like this, but she had to admit that the medical school would want to know the story. “I would be happy to tell you about my experience.”

  Miss Morton was studying her with clear blue eyes that were strikingly set off by her shiny, dark brown hair. She must have been beautiful before her face was disfigured by smallpox. Red bumps, as well as pockmarks, covered fully half her face.