There's Something About Lady Mary (18 page)

“What!” Ryan exclaimed. Surely he must have misheard.

“She had puerperal eclampsia,” Mary told him simply.

“So you decided to cut her open? Good Lord, woman, what were you thinking?”

Mary’s eyes narrowed with sudden fury. “She would have died if I had not done so.”

“She might very well have died because of you. You are not an authorized surgeon, and what you are doing sets a very dangerous precedent. It might make others who lack the necessary qualifications think that they can go about cutting into people instead of seeking professional help.”

“My father taught me everything I know,” Mary retaliated. “Together, he and I experienced fewer fatalities in our patients than anyone else in this country.”

“That does not change the fact that you are practicing medicine. Hell, you are slicing people open without a license!”

Mary held her ground, staring back at Ryan with steel in her eyes. This was clearly not a battle that she intended to lose. “Let me ask you this,” she countered. “During your studies at Oxford, how often did you actually study a physical body, whether it be dead or alive?”

“That is not the issue here.”

“I think it is precisely the issue. The universities pack your heads full of information that is completely useless unless they also show you how to apply it. There is a big difference in having the organs described to you by a lecturer and actually taking an up close look at them.”

“That is what an apprenticeship is for,” Ryan snapped. His blood was beginning to boil; another moment and he’d probably see red. Heaven help him if she wasn’t the most infuriating woman he’d ever come across.

“But such apprenticeships hold no promise of a universal standard. In addition, most physicians and surgeons are reluctant to teach their future competitors, extending the period it takes a student to acquire the necessary skills to an indefinite amount of time.”

Seeing that Mary wasn’t about to give in, Ryan turned to Lady Arlington instead. “I would like to take a look at Lady Steepleton’s work, if I may.”

Lady Arlington nodded and placed her book on the table next to her bed. “You should not be too hard on her, Summersby.” She looked to Mary, who seemed ready to explode. “She did the right thing, you know. Even Dr. Helmsley, the physician I have been using for the duration of my pregnancy, has told us how rare it is for a woman to survive this kind of surgery.”

“Your physician condoned this?” Ryan could scarcely believe his ears. This was madness, complete and utter madness.

“He is the one who sent for Lady Steepleton in the first place,” Lord Arlington replied. “In fact, he explicitly told me that she was our best option.”

Ryan eyed Mary with a great degree of reluctance. Clearly, the fact that an actual physician had backed her up had only encouraged her to think that she had the right to operate. Did she have any idea of the danger in which she’d put Lady Arlington?

He watched as Lady Arlington folded down the covers and pulled up her nightgown enough to show her abdomen. There, a couple of inches below her navel, was a small scar, still graced by a neat row of stitches, but looking otherwise healthy and clear of any infection.

Ryan stared at it. It looked perfect. He frowned. This wasn’t at all the way in which a cesarean had been described in the books he’d read. He looked at Mary, who in turn was watching him with much interest. “I thought the incision should have been made just below the navel and in a downward motion—not across, the way that you have done it.”

Mary nodded. “Yes, I know. The lengthwise incision is the traditional way of performing the procedure, the one that is practiced by the majority of surgeons in this country. However, a variety of methods have been recorded, and would you know, this method, where a transverse incision is made, will result in far less bleeding in the patient than the other, more popular method, will. It makes you wonder why, after Lebas, Dunker, and Lauverjat all claimed success with the transverse incisions more than twenty-five years ago, the lengthwise incision is still so eagerly applied.”

Ryan could say nothing to that. He’d never even heard of these men before, but he had to admit that Mary had given him a great deal to think about. “It seems that there are a lot of contradictory opinions out there. I am surprised I never heard of this method before.”

Mary sighed as she came to stand next to him. “Yes, there are many differing opinions,” she said. “However, a procedure is either successful or it is not, and if it is not, then it is the physician’s and the surgeon’s job to apply a method that has been proven to be better. Unfortunately, these men of medicine are terrified of admitting that they may have been wrong, which implementing new methods is bound to suggest. Instead, they muddle on, without their patient’s best interest at heart and with only their own, personal gain in mind.

“Now, if you are ready, I believe that we have taken up enough of the Arlingtons’ time with our discussion. After all, the whole purpose of our visit here this evening is to remove Lady Arlington’s stitches.” She looked at her patient. “I am sure you must be quite eager to have them out.”

T
hey sat in silence on their way back to Brook Street. Ryan waited in the carriage while Mary ran inside to change. When she returned, he gave her a faint smile. “I must say that you clean up rather well, Mary.”

“Thank you,” she said as she settled herself onto the seat across from him for the brief remainder of the ride back to Trenton House. After a moment’s silence, she looked at him very directly. “I hope that what you have witnessed this evening has made you understand how important my work is to me.”

“It certainly has, and I must admit that there is absolutely nothing that I can say to discredit you. You did an extraordinary job.”

Mary beamed with delight. “I am so pleased that you think so, Ryan. In fact, your opinion matters a great deal to me.”

“Then I am just as pleased as you, since you will no doubt listen to what I have to say.” He fixed Mary with a steady gaze that made her instantly uneasy. “This unruly behavior of yours has got to stop. Not only are you breaking the law by practicing without a license, but you are soon to be a married lady of the
ton
. It would be preposterous for you to continue doing what you do. If you need a hobby, then perhaps you can think of something a little more ladylike, such as miniature painting or botany.”

By the time Ryan was done, Mary was seething with rage.
How dare he!
The arrogance and patronizing male superiority! So angry was she that she had to clasp her hands in her lap to keep them from trembling. “I have no intention of doing any such thing,” she told him icily.

“Be reasonable, Mary, and stop acting like a child,” he all but shouted, then lowered his voice to a more moderate tone. “Of course you cannot keep up this charade. You have had a good run of it, I will give you that, but it is time to end it and accept the role that awaits you as a wife and mother.”

Mary’s jaw dropped. “Damn you, Ryan Summersby! I have saved seventy-three of the seventy-six patients I have ever treated. Do you have any idea what that means? I am not a green girl who cannot tell the difference between the spleen and the appendix, for heaven’s sake. Any person will be safer in my hands than in any other’s—save for my father, who was just as reliable as I, if not more so. Yet you would rather refer a patient to a licensed professional who will likely kill them instead of save them, just because he happens to have a piece of paper allowing him to practice?”

“I am sorry, Mary, but this is your own doing. You have ventured into an area of expertise exclusively reserved for men, and as my wife, I simply will not have it. Do you understand?”

The carriage came to a sudden halt. They’d arrived at Berkeley Square. Mary gathered what little self-control she had left and turned to him with a heavy heart. “Then I will not have you, Mr. Summersby.”

“I have told you already, my lady, that there is no undoing it—the entire
ton
knows about our engagement.”

“And whose fault is that?” she flared. “You and I are completely wrong for one another, yet for some absurd reason you are determined not to see that. So I suggest that you find a way to undo our engagement this instant, or God help me I shall cause a scandal far worse than any you have ever conceived off: I shall say no at the altar.”

Without another word, she stepped down from the carriage and made her way to the front door of Alexandra’s home, cursing the day she met Ryan Summersby as she went.

F
or the next five days, Mary buried herself in her father’s journals. Whenever Ryan came to call on her, she sent him away. She was determined now, more so than ever, to solve the puzzle about her father, and while Ryan had offered to help in that regard, their recent argument had brought Mary crashing back to reality. She knew now that they would never see eye to eye, and though the fact that he would not accept her for who she was pained her, she was now too busy to give it much thought.

It wasn’t until Alexandra grew thoroughly exasperated with her solitary confinement that Mary even realized how many days had passed by.

“You need to get out,” Alexandra told her firmly one early afternoon. “Staying cooped up like this for days on end cannot be good for you.”

“It is raining again,” Mary told her, unwilling to give up her reading.

“Yes, I know. But that does not mean that we cannot go to Gunter’s for tea. If you like, we could visit the Hunterian first.”

Mary looked up. “Really? You wouldn’t mind? I should hate to subject you to an endless display of surgical instruments for my benefit alone.”

Alexandra grinned. “I think it might be interesting. Shall we agree to meet downstairs in fifteen minutes? That should allow you enough time to finish up and get yourself ready.”

Mary nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, thank you, Alexandra. I shall just get my spencer and reticule.”

“So tell me, what happened between you and my brother?” Alexandra asked a short while later as they rolled along Oxford Street in Alexandra’s carriage. “He seemed a bit put out when I spoke with him yesterday, and every time he has tried to call on you, you have turned him away. Did you have another disagreement?”

“You could say that.” Mary sighed. “He insisted that I give up practicing surgery, and I disagreed. In fact, he told me quite plainly that he would not allow me to jeopardize my reputation or his, to which I replied that if that were the case, then I would not have him.”

“You called off the engagement?”

“Not exactly; I gave him an ultimatum. Either he can accept me for who I am, or I shall publically refuse him at the altar.”

“Good heavens,” Alexandra muttered. “No wonder he was in a foul mood.”

She studied Mary for a long moment before continuing. “You do know that he cares a great deal for you?”

“I am not at all sure that he does, Alexandra. If he did, he would not try to take the one thing that I am truly passionate about away from me. He would not suggest that it is merely a hobby to me and that I might easily replace it with painting or botany.”

“He said that?” Alexandra might have laughed if it weren’t so tragic. Mary, who was looking quite glum, merely nodded. “I am sure he is only trying to protect you.”

“Well, he will not have to worry about that anymore. As far as I am concerned, there is nothing left to be said about the matter. We are of two different opinions, and neither one of us is willing to budge.”

Alexandra chose not to pursue the issue any further, but she decided that it was time for her to have another talk with her brother. Clearly, he was in desperate need of some pointers on how to handle a woman like Mary. One thing was for certain: he wouldn’t get anywhere by threatening her freedom.

A
fter paying a penny to view the exhibit, the two women walked alongside the display cases together, stopping every few feet to admire the contents.

“Oh, would you look at that,” Mary remarked as she pointed to a tiny lizard that had been suspended in a jar of alcohol. “Fascinating how life has evolved so differently in different parts of the world, is it not?”

“Yes,” Alexandra agreed. “I should love to travel as far as Australia one day and see one of those bouncing animals that I have heard so much about, or fish larger than a carriage. Can you imagine?”

Mary nodded her head thoughtfully. She’d been as far as Istanbul with her father. He’d given her a taste of what the world had to offer and an eagerness to see more. She sighed, wondering if that would be yet another dream she’d have to sacrifice if she chose to marry Ryan.

“I don’t want to rush you, but I must confess that I’m terribly eager to see the Irish giant they have on display. Would you mind if I go and have a look? I’ll only be a moment.”

Mary grinned, acknowledging that few people were as interested in reptiles and insects as she was. “Not at all,” she said, upon which Alexandra left Mary’s side.

Mary moved on to a collection of butterflies. It was almost as if they’d simply paused for a moment, their bodies suspended in midair. In fact, she half expected them to flap their wings at any moment. But as fascinating as all of these things were, what she’d really come to see was the vast collection of surgical instruments.

She was just about to turn and follow Alexandra when she felt herself grabbed firmly by the arm and shoved through a narrow archway. A door banged shut behind her, leaving her in complete darkness.

Her pulse raced, and her breath came quickly as she reached for something, anything at all, that might allow her to get her bearings.

“You have an unfortunate habit of being too inquisitive for your own good, Lady Steepleton,” a deep voice told her. It was not one that she recognized, though she suspected that the speaker was attempting to mask himself by lowering his tone.

She backed away from it, hitting the wall and knocking something metallic over in the process. It clanged loudly against the stone floor. “Who is there?” she asked in a voice far calmer than she felt. “What do you want?”