Book Read Free

The Beauty Doctor

Page 15

by Elizabeth Hutchison Bernard


  Though Abigail ordinarily would have been eager to peruse the well-stocked bookcases, tonight she found herself too distracted. Her thoughts turned from the uncertainties surrounding the Institute to those of her relationship with Franklin. She wondered if he would come to her bedroom later. And if he did, what would she do? It seemed the answer should have been simple. Yet hadn’t his behavior toward her today suggested that their romantic liaison meant one thing to her and something entirely different to him? Perhaps he thought of last night as his final chance to seduce her before she would find out that the office in Manhattan was, for him, just a brief stop along the way.

  The Rome Institute was his future. He and Joe were a team.

  Again she struggled against despair, trying not to jump to conclusions, as Franklin had accused her of doing that afternoon. She pictured the path to the gazebo and remembered how, for a second, she had embraced the unknown. But it seemed impossible now to recapture that moment or renew her faith in the kindness of fate.

  Resolutely, she lifted her gaze to the volumes lining the shelves of the Radcliffs’ library. For people without a literary bent, as Lillian had admitted, they possessed a great many books. She found it difficult to believe that, somewhere among them, there wasn’t a great classic or at least an interesting work of fiction to entertain her for a little while.

  She approached the closest of the shelves and skimmed the titles. There seemed to be no particular arrangement to them. There was a book on fishing next to one on mechanical engineering. Next to that was something on the history of Western Europe. But there was a particularly compelling title that succeeded in capturing her interest—In Pursuit of Human Perfection, by Theodore Gallagher. She slid it out and took it with her to an armchair by the empty fireplace. Sitting down, she opened to the table of contents.

  She had imagined it would be a work of philosophy but quickly discovered it was more than that. What first caught her attention, other than the fact that certain sentences and paragraphs had been underlined in black ink, was a chapter in which the author explicitly defined the most desirable facial characteristics. Falling unthinkingly into her old habits—as if her entire world was not on the verge of collapse—she wondered if such definitions might have implications for beauty surgery. However, she forced herself to start at the book’s beginning.

  By the time she had finished reading the foreword, she understood that Gallagher’s interest and intent had little to do with beauty for beauty’s sake. His goal was nothing less than the creation of a super race.

  It seemed that Gallagher wished to design human beings almost like Ford designed cars. His assertions initially seemed reasonably scientific, but the more she read, the more she found his ideas flawed and deeply disturbing. What he suggested was a direct affront to individuality, a view of the human race that favored certain characteristics and gave those in authority the right to purge all others. It was not a standard of beauty he sought to impose as much as standards of normalcy and acceptability—rigid standards that would automatically exclude vast segments of the population. His proposals, he said, were aimed at rooting out hereditary defects with the ultimate goal of “perfecting the species.” He placed these principles within the context of what he referred to as eugenics.

  She was engrossed in a particularly troubling chapter concerning potential means of speeding the process of favorable evolution when the door to the library swung open.

  “Miss Platford!”

  Ludwik was dressed as she had seen him that afternoon, minus his straw boater. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude. I saw the light and thought it would be Mr. Radcliff.”

  “I believe Joe and Dr. Rome may be over at the old asylum, mapping out plans for the renovation,” she said before thinking that Ludwik most likely knew nothing of the new partnership. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard about Joe’s idea for a hospital.”

  “Yes, I caught wind of it.” He glanced around the room as if wanting to be sure they were alone. “By the way, I hope you’ll forgive my behavior this afternoon. But I’m sure you understand my concern about Valencia and Melilla.”

  “No need to apologize. I understand perfectly. Surgery is a serious matter. Besides, the girls are lovely as they are,” she said, hoping he would understand how sorry she was for all the insensitive comments the twins had been forced to endure.

  Ludwik nodded with a half smile. “I’m glad you see it that way. Actually, I wasn’t sure. I wondered if your views might be the same as Dr. Rome’s.”

  “This afternoon, I believe he was speaking for Joe more than for himself.”

  “Really? I didn’t get that impression. His desire to operate on the twins was obvious to me.”

  “Oh no, I’m sure not.” There was an awkward silence. “Won’t you come in and sit down?” she asked, gesturing toward the chair opposite her. Suddenly she seemed not to mind the idea of company.

  He entered the library and closed the door behind him. As he approached, she couldn’t help thinking of what Franklin once said about the entitlements of beauty; it was much the same, she supposed, for a handsome baron. Ludwik must be used to having all manner of women competing for his attention. She was intrigued that he had chosen the rather staid role of guardian to a pair of Siamese-twin girls.

  “I must confess, I find this business about beauty surgery to be disconcerting,” he said, settling himself into the other fireside chair. “Obviously, though, you must have a great interest in it.”

  She didn’t quite know how to answer him. In the beginning, it would have been simple. She could have truthfully said it was only a matter of expediency. But now, things were much more complicated.

  “I’ve always had an affinity for medicine—the old-fashioned kind. But then I met Dr. Rome. He’s taught me a great deal. I’ve opened my mind to his work.”

  “So this transformative surgery, as the doctor likes to call it—you believe it has value?”

  She hesitated, again doing battle with herself. “I think it’s quite possible that, for some people, beauty surgery is capable of producing happiness,” she said, realizing suddenly how much she wanted to believe it was so. Everything depended on it.

  “I’m in no position to argue with you, Miss Platford. All I know is that it’s not for my girls. They’re just children. What do they really know of such things—and the consequences, good or bad?”

  “We have no disagreement about that,” she replied hastily. “But do you mind if I ask, what brings you and the girls here? Have you been friends with the Radcliffs for long?”

  “I wouldn’t call us friends. I’m an investor in Mr. Radcliff’s little project—or at least I was.”

  She was taken aback. “His hospital?”

  “Forgive me, no. I’m talking about the other project—Mr. Radcliff’s museum.”

  Abigail frowned. “Museum? I’ve not heard anything about it.”

  “The reason you’ve not heard of it, I’m afraid, is because it doesn’t exist.” He laughed. “Sorry, I’ve confused you even more. If you like, I’ll try to explain myself.”

  “Please do.”

  “It’s probably best if I start at the beginning. I met Mr. Radcliff a few months ago in London through a mutual acquaintance, an old friend of my father’s, a newspaperman named Samuel Storey.”

  “Storey? Such a perfect name for someone in the newspaper trade!”

  “I’ve often thought the same. A fine fellow, he is, too. I’m not sure how Mr. Radcliff happened to be acquainted with him, but we both were in attendance at a small dinner party at Mr. Storey’s home when Mr. Radcliff mentioned he’d always had a fascination with, as he called them, freaks. Granted, I was at first put off by his use of an appellation that I find abhorrent. But once we got to talking, he seemed uncommonly appreciative of these rare human beings, their resilience and their determination to thrive. He said he was putting together a collection of historical displays intended to counter the prejudices that still exist against t
hem. I thought the concept was interesting and so immediately wrote him a check.”

  “I didn’t realize he was in need of money,” Abigail remarked drily, remembering how Joe had boasted during lunch of the boatload of cash that would be required to finance the new institute.

  “It was a nominal sum. I meant it only as a show of support. I wanted to encourage him in such an endeavor, if it might truly do some good.”

  “Certainly, I can understand why you would.” She hoped that she hadn’t offended him. In truth, she was greatly relieved by everything he’d said. Despite her favorable impression of him, she had wondered about his motive for assuming guardianship of the twins. She had thought perhaps he hoped to profit from them personally. There were, of course, some who made their living that way, displaying their unfortunate charges for the amusement of others.

  “This summer, my girls and I had planned a trip to New York,” he continued. “When we arrived from London a few days ago, I telephoned to see if we might stop by and see what progress had been made. Mr. Radcliff did not bother to tell me that nothing has been done at all. It doesn’t take much to see that his enthusiasm now is elsewhere.”

  “So you believe he’s abandoned the idea of a museum altogether?”

  “I’m not certain but, to put it bluntly, I’ve detected a change in his attitude; it’s a change that I don’t care for very much. He now refers to his project as a museum of human oddities, which to me suggests a lack of respect. His behavior, and that of some of his guests, toward my girls has been nothing short of deplorable.”

  “I see.” How glad she was to know that someone else shared her ambivalence toward Joe.

  “I must admit that I’m disappointed by his change of heart,” Ludwik continued, “but he’s certainly free to do whatever he wishes. Obviously, I have no intention of becoming an investor in the Rome Institute. No offense meant, but beauty surgery doesn’t happen to be a passion of mine. So you see, the twins and I really have no reason to stay here any longer.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  “Yes, tomorrow morning.”

  She hesitated, unsure if she was being too inquisitive. But she felt that a certain rapport had developed between them that she hoped might cause him to make allowances for her curiosity. “There’s something else I’ve wondered about, if you don’t mind my asking. How did you come to be the twins’ guardian?”

  “It was a matter of mutual necessity, Miss Platford.”

  “Mutual?”

  “Yes, they needed me—and, though it may surprise you, I needed them just as much. You might say that I had a debt to pay.” He folded his hands, resting them in his lap. “However, I won’t trouble you with that story. It’s not a pretty one.”

  “But I’m interested,” Abigail insisted.

  “I wouldn’t wish for you to think too harshly of me.”

  She sensed a deep sadness settling over him, and she feared it was her fault. But it was too late now, and his final comment had only intrigued her more. “I’m sure there would be no reason for me to judge you, in that way or any other.”

  “You’re very kind. I could see that about you from the moment we met. I’m sorry if I gave a different impression earlier today, in the heat of the moment.”

  “Please, don’t worry about that.”

  “Well . . . when you’ve heard my tale, I think you’ll understand why I am so fiercely protective of the twins.” He sighed wearily and began. “When I was twelve, my stepmother gave birth to a baby girl with severe defects. Rather than suffer the disgrace, she arranged quietly to have the child destroyed. Thinking myself the hero, I snatched the baby and took her away. I found a chap who claimed that he and his wife would give her a good home. He insisted I also give him a large sum of cash to cover the care she would need. An amount of money that, I might add, was not all that easy for a twelve-year-old—even a young baron—to get his hands on, other than by a bit of shrewd deception. I thought I had done well by my little sister. It was only quite a few years later that I learned the truth of what had happened to her.”

  Abigail’s heart stalled. His words seemed to presage something nightmarish. Something that maybe, after all, she wished not to hear.

  “It turns out the man ran a carnival,” Ludwik said. “One of those despicable sideshows where they exhibit people with defects as if they were circus animals. My sister had become one of his star attractions. You may have heard the argument that people like her should count themselves lucky to have work, that carnival life isn’t really so bad? Well, don’t believe it! The man was a monster. I saw the proof of it myself.” He paused, visibly overcome with emotion. “I tried to rescue her. Unfortunately, all I succeeded in doing was getting a few broken ribs. Seems that carnival folks stick together, and it was me against ten or twelve of them. By the time I was ready to try again, the show had moved on. When I finally tracked them down, months later, my sister was no longer with them. I was told that she’d died of a severe illness. It took me a while, but eventually I had the proof. Cholera, it was. Sadly, it was too late to save her, but at least I knew she wasn’t still suffering. That, I’m afraid, was my only consolation.”

  “So you saved Valencia and Melilla instead,” Abigail said softly. “The twins became your little sisters.”

  “I suppose you could say that.” He gave her a remorseful smile. “But I didn’t mean to upset you. You surely have more pleasant things to think about on a lovely night like this.”

  “No, I’m very glad you told me. I only hope you won’t continue to torture yourself with thoughts of your sister. You were only a child yourself at the time, and you tried your best to help her.”

  “All that is true, but I’m afraid the heart tends not to look at things so rationally.”

  “Yes, believe me—I know.”

  He stood up, appearing suddenly anxious to depart.

  “Must you go so soon?” she asked. There must have been something in her tone that caused Ludwik to look at her with a hint of surprise.

  “I’ve distracted you from your reading long enough. I’ll catch up with Mr. Radcliff in the morning, though I had hoped to inform him tonight of my plans to leave.”

  “Would you like me to deliver the message—that is, if I happen to see him?”

  “Very kind of you, but no. I think it’s best if I talk with him personally. We commenced our relationship on a handshake. I’m sure that’s how we’ll end it as well.”

  “Then perhaps you could wait a bit more. I’m sure he’ll turn up before too long.” It was strange that she wanted him to stay. But his story had made her realize that they shared the same burden—a failed attempt to save someone they loved.

  Just then the stillness of the library was shaken by a loud clatter from the hallway followed by a shriek. Before either of them could make a move to investigate, the door to the library burst open.

  It was the countess, and she was a sight to behold—half-naked, wearing little more than a shift and a loosely fastened white corset, long garters holding up her black stockings, her feet clad in a pair of patent leather boots with big gold buckles. To complete her ensemble, she had donned a pair of long black evening gloves, which only made her look all the more absurd as she flailed her arms in a moment of drunken confusion.

  Her bleary-eyed gaze came to rest on Ludwik. “Well, well. What have we here?” She steadied herself with the door frame, a crooked smile on her lips, her voice oozing like thick syrup. “When the cat’s away, the mice . . .” She shifted her attention to Abigail. “And I wonder what Frank would say if he knew his little virgin was carrying on with another man. But then, I guess you’re not so lily pure as you used to be. Not after last night.” She threw back her head as if to laugh, but what came out was only a derisive snort.

  Ludwik’s face reflected shock and embarrassment, though he could not have been as mortified as Abigail. She had known that Alexandra’s room was next to hers, but she’d never stopped to think her neighbor might be l
istening through the wall.

  “Ronnie said you weren’t feeling well,” Abigail said, trying to maintain her composure. “Maybe you need me to help you back upstairs.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to go upstairs. Maybe I want to stay right here, with the two of you—and read a book!”

  Ludwik took a step toward her. “Countess Alexandra, I’d be more than happy to escort you to your room.”

  “No, I’ll just wait for Frank. I’m sure he’ll be coming after me any second now.” She turned her head to toss Abigail a wicked smile.

  Astonishingly, the next moment Franklin appeared in the hallway, seemingly out of nowhere. He was jacketless, his tie loosened. Abigail had not even realized he and Joe were back. But there he stood, just behind the countess, who was propped against the threshold as if she might collapse without it. She rolled her head around and looked up at him, smiling.

  “Frank, I knew you wouldn’t forget me.” She tried to stand up straight, but immediately started to tip over. He reached out to steady her. Abigail watched as she swooned in his arms, babbling some incoherent nonsense about stars and tea leaves and satin sheets. She’d never witnessed such a disgusting display of debauchery!

  “Let’s get you upstairs, Alexandra,” Franklin said, acknowledging neither Abigail nor Ludwik, too intent on maneuvering the countess into position. Though she was rather uncooperative, his manner with her was surprisingly gentle.

  “Do you need a hand, Doctor?” Ludwik offered.

  “No, I think I can manage.”

  “Of course you can, darling,” the countess said as Franklin finally succeeded in turning her around. “Let us leave these bibliophiles to their sophomoric inquiries. I prefer to explore the deeper meaning of life—upstairs.”

  She looped her arm through Franklin’s, took a few tentative steps, and, finding that her legs were solid enough, allowed him to lead her away. After they had disappeared from view and the sound of her drunken laughter had faded to nothing, Ludwik turned to Abigail.

 

‹ Prev