The Beauty Doctor

by Elizabeth Hutchison Bernard

  Her diagnosis had been correct; it was pneumonia. She’d been told that the measures she took in caring for the twins were exactly right. The several doctors who had been called in for consultation were optimistic for a full recovery.

  She glanced over at Ludwik, slumped in a straight-back chair, snoring loudly with his mouth open. He had arrived very late last night. After all he’d been through, it was no wonder he was exhausted. He’d lost weight, and his color wasn’t good. He was still on crutches, which leaned against the wall.

  He must have sensed her staring at him, because the next moment he awakened, shifting into an upright position.

  “Sorry I fell asleep. How are they doing?”

  “Resting for now.”

  “Good,” he said, patting down his unruly hair. “I can’t remember much of what we talked about earlier. Who knows, maybe they did something to my brain while I was in that godforsaken place.”

  “I think you’re just tired. It will take you a few days to get back to normal,” she said, hoping she was right. She’d not asked what kind of tests or so-called treatments he’d been subjected to; she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She imagined it best, too, if Ludwik could manage to put the whole ordeal out of his mind, at least for now. No doubt he was in need of healing—as much as the twins, though in a different way.

  “I’m not sure that I thanked you sufficiently for what you did,” he said. “Although I doubt any amount of thanks could possibly be enough. You saved me, and my girls as well.”

  “It was Mr. Storey and his friend Andrew Carnegie who saved you. Naturally, I’m disappointed in Mr. Carnegie’s support of the eugenics movement, which is an abomination. But at least he made sure the twins would be returned to you.”

  “Dr. Rome must be awfully upset that he won’t have my girls to publicize the grand opening of his institute.”

  She didn’t know where to begin. “Dr. Rome is under investigation. He’s been detained by the police for the last four days. He’s suspected of being involved in the disappearance of one of his patients. And there’s something else that has come to light. Apparently, he’s not really a doctor after all.”

  She felt so ashamed. What must he think of her for having associated with a man like Franklin Rome? She wondered, too, if he was remembering that work was not all she had done with Franklin. And what would he think if he knew how close she had come to masquerading as a doctor herself, simply because Franklin had told her she could.

  He leaned forward, his eyes searching her face. “I understand now just how difficult the last few days have been for you. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Thank you, but no.”

  There was no reason to tell him that she had no immediate prospects of another position, and she would have to move out of her apartment in another couple of weeks. And there was Shaena. Prudence had been watching her so that Abigail could spend time at the hospital. But she couldn’t afford to keep a maid, and Prudence already had begun interviewing for another job.

  “Good morning, Miss Platford.” Detective Baldwin strode up to the bed with a look of anticipation, breaking the solemn mood that had settled over the two of them. “I knew you’d be here, and I wanted to personally deliver the news. Mrs. Moser has been found.”

  Her heart leaped. “She’s alive?”

  “No, I’m afraid not. What I meant to say was that her body has been found. It was buried in a shallow grave on Hart Island. That fellow Shark and his accomplice led us straight to her.”

  It was what Abigail had expected all along, but she felt anew the absolute horror of it.

  “And Dr. Rome? Has he been charged with anything?” she asked hesitantly.

  “We have substantial proof that he was an accessory to the crime, though he’s still not admitted to anything. I believe he will, though. Once he understands that it’s in his best interests.” He craned his neck toward the bed where the twins lay sleeping. “And how are the Siamese twins doing? I’ve always wanted to get a good look at them.”

  “They’re making progress. By the way—please excuse my manners—allow me to introduce their guardian, Baron Ludwik Rutkowski.” She turned to Ludwik. “This is Detective Baldwin, who’s been investigating Mrs. Moser’s disappearance.”

  Ludwik rose from his chair, though with some difficulty. “Pleasure to meet you, Detective,” he said as they shook hands.

  “Thank you, sir. Miss Platford has told me about your situation. I’m wondering if you intend to press charges in the matter. Against Mr. Radcliff and the others.”

  “No, I don’t. I’m afraid it would be a long, drawn-out battle. Mr. Radcliff is very well connected. I’m not sure I could bring him down. What I do intend, however, is to take my girls back to England with me, just as soon as they’re well enough.”

  Abigail felt a slight catch in her throat. She supposed it was unlikely she would ever see any of them again.

  “But we’ll be returning to New York,” he added quickly. “The twins never got to see the sights. Obviously none of us is in any shape at the moment to do so. But I doubt they will let me off the hook for too long. I’ll keep my fingers crossed that Miss Platford might be free to show us around next time.”

  “Very well, if it’s your decision not to bring charges, I’ll close the book on that part of the case,” Detective Baldwin said. “Oh, Miss Platford—” He turned to her again. “I was wondering when you’d like to come down to the station.”

  Before she could ask the detective why she would need to, she was distracted by an unexpected visitor to the ward. Prudence stood at the entrance, having a word with one of the nurses. After a brief negotiation, she came rushing toward them, Shaena in tow.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” she said, coming up behind Detective Baldwin. “But I just heard from Mrs. Cameron, the lady who interviewed me yesterday afternoon. She offered me the position. Said she needs me right away. The pay is good. I can’t afford to pass it up.” She looked at Abigail apologetically. “I brought Shaena over here to leave her with you. I hope that’s all right.”

  “Come here, sweetheart,” Abigail said, bending down and opening her arms to the little girl, who ran into them willingly, snuggling as close as she could. Abigail looked up at Prudence. “Thank you for everything. I hope this new position works out for you.”

  “And I wish you every good fortune, as well, ma’am. Lord knows, you deserve it.” Her eyes were misted with tears. She smiled down at Shaena. “Goodbye, sweet pea. You be good.” Then she nodded to the others, biting her lip as she hurried off.

  Watching her leave, Abigail felt a slight pang of jealousy. It hadn’t taken Prudence much time at all to move on. She wondered how long it would take her.

  “And who’s this?” Detective Baldwin asked, eyeing Shaena.

  “My niece.”

  Abigail gave Shaena a quick kiss on the cheek and straightened up. “You were saying something about coming to the station, Detective?”

  He seemed not to be paying attention. He was down on one knee in front of the little girl, looking at her face. “Dog bite?”

  “Yes,” Abigail answered reluctantly. The last thing she wanted was for Shaena to feel like an object of curiosity. “She has a lot of healing yet to do.”

  “Same thing happened to my little sister when we were kids. Whoever stitched up this little one did an excellent job.”

  “I did.” Abigail knew she shouldn’t boast, but she couldn’t help herself.

  Detective Baldwin stood up. “Looks like you’re going to do just fine,” he said, patting the child’s head.

  “But you were saying—”

  “Ah yes—the reward money.”

  Abigail caught her breath. “Reward!”

  “Maybe I never mentioned it, but soon after Mrs. Moser’s disappearance, her husband offered a substantial reward for information leading to the discovery of her whereabouts. Three thousand dollars.”

  Three thousand dollars! It was practically a for
tune! She looked down at Shaena. The child’s arms were wrapped around her hips as if holding on for dear life. Calmly, she stroked the top of her head.

  “Congratulations, Miss Platford.” The good news seemed to have brought a bit of color back to Ludwik’s face. “That’s quite a sum. Do you know what you’re going to do with it?”

  With a sudden flash of understanding, she recalled Franklin’s admonishment. Surely by now you realize that medical school would be a complete waste of your time. Of course he wouldn’t have wanted her to be a real doctor!

  And then, without warning, a familiar image rose to the surface. Her face reflected in the glass of the medicine cabinet, her hand reaching inside . . .

  Someday you’ll make a fine doctor, her father said.

  “Yes, Ludwik—I do know. I know precisely.”

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  In the early 1900s, with the field of medicine struggling to regulate itself, opportunities for quackery abounded. Abuses in all areas of medicine eventually led to stricter guidelines for medical education and credentials. As a direct result of the Flexner Report, published in 1910 under the sponsorship of the Carnegie Foundation, nearly half of all medical schools in the United States were judged inadequate; eventually these schools merged with others or were shut down completely. This caused at least one unfortunate side effect: though previously women had made progress with regard to medical school admission, fewer available slots for aspiring doctors meant that virtually all women were to be excluded. It would take some time to reestablish them among the ranks of medical students at American universities.

  During the same period, the eugenics movement was widely embraced by academic institutions and governments throughout the world, with many wealthy individuals like Carnegie and Rockefeller contributing large sums of money for research. It was not until the 1930s that enthusiasm for the doctrine began its decline. By the end of World War II, it was widely discredited. However, practices of forced limits on reproduction as well as involuntary sterilizations and hysterectomies continue in some countries to the present day.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  It would take many pages to list all the resources that were vital to my research for The Beauty Doctor—resources without which my story and characters could never have come to life. Briefly, I will name just a few of the most extraordinary: The Correction of Featural Imperfections, by Charles C. Miller, MD, first published in 1907, which details the methods by which Miller performed many of the early cosmetic operations mentioned in my novel; Elizabeth Haiken’s fabulous book Venus Envy, A History of Cosmetic Surgery (The Johns Hopkins University Press; 1997), which provided colorful historical context; the research of Keith A. Denkler, MD, and Rosalind F. Hudson, MD, presented in “The 19th Century Origins of Facial Cosmetic Surgery and John H. Woodbury” (Aesthetic Surgery Journal; www.aestheticsurgeryjournal. com), which disclosed new findings concerning how beauty surgery was practiced at the turn of the century; and Museum Vrolik (University of Amsterdam) and the Countway Library of Medicine (Harvard University), whose displays and other resources on the eighteenth- and nineteenth-century study of teratology were helpful in developing the concept of Joe Radcliff’s museum of human oddities.

  I am deeply indebted to my fabulous editors at Girl Friday Productions (www.girlfridayproductions.com)—Christina Henry de Tessan, Devon Fredericksen, Laura Whittemore, and Karen Parkin. Their insight and guidance were so important to me, and they made the entire process of bringing this book to fruition truly enjoyable. Many thanks as well to my incredible cover designer, Jenny Quinlan (http://historicaleditorial.blogspot.com/), who created several beautiful versions of the cover before we finally settled on the perfect one; also to Rachel Christenson for the lovely interior design. I am grateful to public historian Lauren Markewicz for her expertise on the Edwardian era and her painstaking review of my manuscript for historical accuracy; my writing and reading buddies, Elisabeth Tyler, Marcia Fine, and Mari Kent, for their advice and encouragement; my mother, Helen Hutchison, for being my inspiration; and, most of all, my amazingly wonderful husband, Bob, whose love and friendship will always mean the world to me.

  READING GROUP GUIDE

  In what ways does Abigail’s relationship with her father influence her self-image? Does it make her stronger or weaker?

  What does the manner in which Abigail handles her decision not to marry Arthur say about her as a person?

  Abigail’s attitude toward beauty surgery begins to change rather quickly. Is this change motivated by self-interest, by a genuine appreciation of its value, or by something else?

  As players in Joe Radcliff’s Socratic game to define beauty, what does each character’s definition reveal about him or her?

  Baron Ludwik Rutkowski exhibits unusual kindness toward Abigail on several occasions. How does his offer of help affect her?

  Why does Abigail still want Franklin as her lover even after he treats her in a manner that so deeply disappoints her? Is she primarily motivated by desire? Ambition? Pride?

  Should Valencia and Melilla, the conjoined twins, have the right to decide for themselves whether to undergo surgery on their noses?

  What is it about Franklin Rome that attracts Abigail? In the beginning? Later on?

  What attracts Franklin to Abigail?

  How does Abigail’s notion of what it means to be a doctor change over the course of the story?

  How does it affect Abigail when she first begins to recognize Franklin’s weakness? When she sees him finally crumble?

  How do Abigail’s relationships with children change her? With Paddy and Shaena? With Valencia and Melilla?

  How does the juxtaposition of beauty surgery, Joe’s museum of human oddities, and the eugenics movement illuminate the book’s major themes?

  What about Franklin’s infidelity bothers Abigail the most? That he lied to her? That Alexandra was the one to reveal the affair to her? That Abigail truly loved him? That she should have known better than to trust him?

  What is the turning point at which Abigail decides to take control of her own future?

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  A writer and musician, Elizabeth Hutchison Bernard lives in Arizona with her husband, Bob, and their black Lab, Pearly Mae.

  Visit Elizabeth’s website and historical fiction blog at www.EHBernard.com

  Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/EHBernardAuthor

  Twitter at https://www.twitter.com/EHBernardAuthor

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