A Good Woman (4 page)

“Actually,” she said honestly, not afraid to be candid with him, “I’d rather be a doctor.” She felt as though she could tell him anything, and he wouldn’t laugh at her. He had become a good friend since her father died and he had begun his visits to them. But this time he looked startled. She had surprised him. She was a far more serious person than even he had guessed, and he could see from the look on her face that she meant what she had said.

“That’s a pretty impressive ambition,” he said, sobered for a minute. “Would you ever do that?”

“My mother would never let me. But I’d love to if I could. I take medical books and books about anatomy out of the library sometimes. I don’t understand everything they say, but I’ve learned some interesting things. I think medicine is fascinating. And there are a lot more women doctors now than there were.” Women had been getting into medical schools for over sixty years now, but he still couldn’t imagine Annabelle doing that, and he suspected she was right, her mother would have a fit. She wanted Annabelle to have a far more traditional life, to get married and have children, hence her debut.

“I never wanted to be a doctor,” he confessed. “But I did want to join the circus when I was about ten or twelve.” She laughed as he said it, it was such a funny thing to admit to. “I loved the animals, and I always wanted to be a magician, so I could make my homework disappear. I wasn’t much of a student.”

“I don’t think I believe you, if you went to Harvard,” she said, still laughing at him. “I think it would have been fun to join the circus. Why didn’t you?”

“Your father offered me a job instead, although that was later. I don’t know, maybe I just didn’t have the gumption it took. But I never had ambitions like yours. Just thinking of all the years of school it would take would kill me. I’m much too lazy to be a doctor.”

“I don’t believe that,” she said kindly. “But I know I’d love it.” Her eyes shone brightly as she said it.

“Who knows, maybe someday you’ll be able to use some of what you’ve learned in books, in your volunteer work. That’s a noble pursuit.” He admired her for doing it at least.

“They don’t let you do much,” she said, looking disappointed.

“What would you like to do?” he asked with interest.

“I do very nice needlework, everyone always says so. I’d like to try stitching someone up sometime. I’m sure I could.” He looked shocked when she said it, and then smiled broadly.

“Remind me not to cut myself in front of you, or you’ll be whipping a needle and an embroidery hoop out of your pocket!”

“I would enjoy that,” she admitted, smiling impishly at him.

“Someone is going to have to keep you busy, Miss Worthington, or I get the feeling you’ll be up to mischief.”

“Medical mischief would suit me very well. Just think, if we weren’t who we are, I could go to medical school and do anything I wanted. Isn’t that annoying?” she asked, looking like a child and a woman all at once, and without thinking he hugged her, just as he would his little sister. She felt like that to him, just as she felt a bond to him almost like a brother. A nice relationship and friendship was developing between them.

“If you weren’t who you are, you couldn’t afford to go to medical school,” he said practically, and she nodded in agreement.

“That’s true. But if I were a man I could. Robert could have, if he’d wanted to, and my parents would have let him. Sometimes, it’s very difficult being a woman. There is so much you can’t do and that’s not considered proper. It’s really very boring,” she said, kicking a pebble with the toe of her shoe, and he laughed at her.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who want to fight for rights and freedom.” She didn’t seem the type to him, and it would have surprised him.

“No. I’m perfectly happy the way things are. I just wish I could be a doctor.”

“Well, I wish I could be the King of England, but that’s not going to happen either. Some things are just out of our reach, Annabelle, and we have to accept that. You have a good life as it is.”

“Yes, I do,” she agreed. “And I love my mother. I wouldn’t do anything to upset her, and that would upset her a lot.”

“Yes, it would.”

“She’s been through so much this year, and I just want to make her happy.”

“You do,” he said comfortably. “I can see it. You’re a wonderful daughter to her, and a lovely person.”

“No, she’s not,” Hortie said, as she appeared from nowhere and sidled up to them. She had come back to go swimming with Annabelle again. “She dissected a frog once. She read how to do it in a book. It was the most disgusting thing I’ve
ever
seen. She is definitely
not
a lovely person.” All three of them laughed at what she said.

“I assume that’s true,” Josiah said, beginning to know Annabelle better. She was a most remarkable young woman, in many ways.

“Yes, it is,” Annabelle said proudly. “I did it just like the book told me. It was very interesting. I wish I could dissect a real person. A corpse, you know, like in medical school.”

“Oh my God,” Hortie said, looking woozy, and Josiah looked shocked but amused.

“You two had better go swimming,” he said, and shooed them off as he went up to the porch to say good-bye to Consuelo.

“What were the three of you talking about?” she asked him with interest.

“Oh the usual, parties, debuts, engagements, weddings,” he said, covering for Annabelle, knowing that her mother would faint if she thought that Annabelle wished she could dissect a cadaver. He was still laughing to himself as he walked back to his own cottage. Annabelle Worthington was certainly an interesting young woman, and not the usual nineteen-year-old girl at all.

As he got back to his own place, his college roommate was just returning from lunch, and Josiah waved as he saw him. Henry Orson was one of his oldest friends, and he enjoyed the time they spent together every summer. They had been valued friends to each other since their college days, and Henry was a man of substance, whom everyone admired.

“How was lunch?” Josiah asked him. They were both good-looking men, and had always been able to have all the women they wanted, but were responsible about it. They never led women on nor took advantage of them. Henry had been engaged two years before and had been seriously disappointed when his fiancée fell in love with a younger man, a boy her own age. And he had had no serious involvements since, which made all the Newport mothers hopeful, as they were about Josiah.

“Boring,” Henry said honestly. “How was yours?” Henry found many social gatherings tedious and preferred discussing business with other serious men to flirting with young girls.

“I had a picnic with a young lady who wants to dissect a human cadaver,” Josiah said, grinning, and Henry laughed out loud.

“Jesus,” Henry said, looking amused and impressed, and pretending to be frightened. “She sounds dangerous. Stay away from her!”

“Don’t worry,” Josiah said, laughing, as they walked into the house together, “I will.”

The two men played cards for the rest of the afternoon, while discussing the state of the financial world, which was Henry’s passion. It was a subject that made him tedious to women but interesting to men, since he was extremely knowledgeable and had an intelligent perspective, and Josiah was always happy to talk to him. He had gotten Henry a job at Annabelle’s father’s bank several years before, and he was extremely respected by his colleagues and superiors. Although less sociable than Josiah, he had done very well at the bank too. Henry had never met Annabelle or Consuelo, but Josiah promised to introduce him to them during his stay in Newport, as Henry shook his head, while frowning at his cards.

“Not if she’s going to chop me up like a cadaver,” Henry said ominously, and then smiled as he put down a winning hand.

“Damn,” Josiah said, folding, and smiled at him. “Don’t worry. She’s just a child.”

Chapter 4

J
osiah visited the Worthingtons often during July and August, as did Hortie and James, and a number of other friends. Josiah introduced Henry to them, as promised, who extended his condolences to Consuelo, and taught Annabelle several new games of cards, which delighted her no end, particularly when she beat him several times. She was enjoying the company of the good friends they saw in Newport, and although they were removed from the social whirl that summer, she felt far less isolated than she did in the city. Life seemed almost normal again here, despite the absence of her father and brother, who had often stayed in the city to work anyway.

By the time they left Newport at the end of August, she looked healthy and brown and happy, and her mother looked better too. It had been an easy, peaceful summer for them, after their tragic spring.

Once back in the city, Annabelle joined her mother doing hospital work again. And she volunteered on her own one day a week at the New York Hospital for the Relief of the Ruptured and Crippled. They were doing extraordinary work that fascinated her. She told Josiah all about it when he came to the house in the city to have tea.

“You haven’t gotten to work on any cadavers yet, have you?” he asked, pretending to be worried, and she laughed at him.

“No, I just bring food and jugs of water to the patients, but one of the nurses said I might be able to watch a surgery one day.”

“You are a remarkable girl indeed,” he said, with a broad easy grin.

And by the end of the month, Consuelo finally had the courage to go through her husband’s and son’s things. They put some of them away, and gave away most of their clothes, but left Arthur’s study and Robert’s bedroom intact. Neither of them had the heart to take the rooms apart, and there was no reason to. They didn’t need those rooms.

They saw very little of Josiah in September, compared to his summer visits. He was busy at the bank, and they were still settling the estate. Although Arthur had no reason to think anything would happen to him, he had left his affairs in perfect order, and Annabelle and her mother were in excellent financial shape. Both of them could live easily for the rest of their lives on what he had left them, and there would still be a healthy estate to leave to Annabelle’s children one day, although it was the last thing on her mind.

Annabelle saw very little of Hortie that month too. The wedding was only six weeks away, and Hortie had a lot to do. She had fittings for her wedding gown, a trousseau to be ordered, her father had given them a house, and she and James were buying furniture for it. They were going to Europe on their honeymoon, and would be gone until Christmas, and Annabelle knew she would miss her while she was away. Once she was married, it would never be quite the same. Annabelle had seen it with other friends, and she missed Hortie already.

It was early October when Josiah finally came to visit again. Annabelle was at the Hospital for the Relief of the Ruptured and Crippled, and Consuelo was in the garden, enjoying a sunny afternoon with a cup of tea. She was surprised to see Josiah, but he was always welcome, and as she stood up to greet him, she looked genuinely pleased.

“We haven’t seen you in ages, Josiah. How are you?”

“Fine.” He smiled at her. “I’ve been in Boston for the past few weeks. My family had some things I needed to handle for them there. What have you and Annabelle been up to?”

“We’re fine. Annabelle’s been busy at the hospital again, but at least it keeps her occupied. There’s nothing much else for her to do here.” They had another six months in their formal mourning period, and Consuelo knew that although Annabelle never complained, it was hard on her. She hadn’t been out with her friends in six months, and it was boring for a nineteen-year-old girl. She needed to be out in the world, but there was nothing Consuelo could do.

“I know this time must seem long to both of you,” Josiah said quietly, as he sat down in the garden with her, and declined a cup of tea.

“I don’t mind it for myself, but I do mind it for her,” Consuelo admitted. “She’ll be nearly twenty before she gets out in the world again. It really doesn’t seem fair.” But what had happened to Consuelo hadn’t been fair either. Life just worked that way sometimes.

“She’ll be fine,” Josiah reassured her. “Annabelle’s the sort of person who makes the best of every situation. She’s never complained to me once about not being able to go out,” he said honestly, and her mother nodded.

“I know. She’s a dear. I’m sorry you missed her today, she’ll be disappointed. She’s always at the hospital on Monday afternoons.” He nodded, hesitating for a moment, looking pensively into space, and then back at Consuelo with a surprisingly intent look.

“I actually didn’t come to see Annabelle today. I came to see you, on a matter of business that I wanted to discuss with you privately.” He looked proper and businesslike as he said it, as though he were on a mission from the bank.

“Something about Arthur’s estate? Can’t you handle that with the lawyers, Josiah? You know how bad I am at all that. Arthur handled everything. It’s all a mystery to me.”

“No, no, everything is fine. The bank is handling it with the attorneys, and everything’s in order. This is a more private matter, and perhaps I’m premature, but I wanted to discuss it with you, and I’m hoping you’ll be discreet.” She couldn’t begin to imagine what it was as she listened to him, nor why Annabelle shouldn’t be around. For a fraction of an instant, she worried that Annabelle had been right months before, and that he was paying court to her. She hoped not. She liked him enormously, but if he had any romantic interest in her whatsoever, Consuelo was going to decline. She had no leanings in his direction, nor toward anyone else. As far as Consuelo was concerned, that chapter of her life was closed.

“I wanted to talk to you about Annabelle,” he said clearly, so that neither of them would be confused. He realized that he was much closer to Consuelo’s age than her daughter’s, but he felt no romantic spark toward Consuelo, only respect, admiration, and warm friendship. The Worthingtons had been extremely hospitable to him since Arthur’s death, and he had greatly enjoyed spending time with them. “I know you’re both in deep mourning for another six months, and that you’re concerned about her. It is a shame that she has missed this whole year since her debut, and all the opportunities that would afford. At first I thought I should say nothing to you, whatever my feelings. She’s extremely young, and I sincerely believed that she would be happiest with someone her own age. To be honest, I no longer think that’s true.