The Heart's Appeal

by Jennifer Delamere

  His eye traveled from her face to take in the rest of her. Julia knew he must be appraising her, noticing the secondhand clothes, the unstylish hat, and gloves that were worn though still presentable. For the first time in her life, she felt an embarrassed self-consciousness. How had he been able to do that with one look?

  Was her face growing warm? No. She could not be blushing. Julia Bernay never blushed. That was for hapless females like the blonde sitting in front of her. She quickly averted her gaze, lifting her copy of The Lancet and making a point of reading it. That would show him the kind of serious woman she was.

  Neither of the women had noticed this little interchange. The brunette said, “You know we would never subject you to something so incredibly tedious as shopping.” She spoke with a sarcastic air. “Although you might consider finding a valet who can be a little more creative in your choice of clothing.”

  The man shrugged. “What would be the point? There’s no need to be creative in my profession.”

  Julia lowered her journal just enough to peek over the top and risk another glance at him. What was his profession? The blonde had mentioned Gray’s Inn. He must be a barrister. This was easy to believe. It took no trouble at all to imagine him standing in a courtroom, addressing a jury. He had the kind of presence that turned heads and garnered attention. What would he look like in a barrister’s wig and robe? She was sure he would be very imposing.

  The train pulled into the next station. Julia could see the platform here was crowded, too. While most of the people vied for the third-class compartments, a dapper man in a fur-collared coat and diamond-patterned cravat strode into the first-class carriage. From the corner of her eye, she saw him send a curious glance her way. She tried to project the casual air of someone who rode in first-class carriages every day, but she needn’t have bothered. His gaze traveled quickly over her and settled for a much longer moment on the blonde before he took a seat.

  The barrister took a cigarette holder from his pocket and opened it. Julia found this disappointing. She’d read some reports indicating there could be adverse effects to smoking, even though equally as many doctors touted its health benefits.

  “Michael, will you hand me a cigarette?” the brunette asked.

  He looked at her askance. “Now, Corinna, I don’t think David will appreciate me leading his wife astray.”

  “Then don’t think of me as David’s wife,” she snapped. She held out her hand. “Remember that I am also your sister.”

  With a sardonic smile, he replied, “Well, since you put it that way . . .”

  He rose and stepped into the aisle to give her a cigarette.

  At that moment, the train, which up to this point had been rattling and shaking in normal fashion, suddenly came to a screeching halt. It careened sharply to the left, its right side lifting as though loosed from the tracks, forcing Julia and the other passengers to grab hold of their seats to keep from being pitched to the floor. The man Julia knew only as Michael was thrown hard to the left, crashing backward into the carriage window. He tried to right himself, stunned, before he seemed to lose consciousness. As he fell to the floor, his head and neck scraped the jagged glass still attached to the frame. The rest of the glass fell with him, scattering across the floor and mingling with the blood flowing from his head.

  CHAPTER

  2

  THERE WAS A MOMENT OF EERIE SILENCE. Like Julia, the others were stupefied, trying to come to grips with what had just happened. Finally, the quiet was broken by groans and movement as people struggled to right themselves. One of the gentlemen moaned, “I think my arm is broken!” The carriage was still tilted to the left. Julia guessed the train had derailed during its sudden, violent attempt to stop.

  “Oh no! Oh no!” cried the blonde, her voice high-pitched and frenzied, as she stared at Michael bleeding on the floor. Julia stumbled forward to reach him, alarmed at the quantity of blood spurting from below his chin. One of the other men crouched beside him, pulling out a handkerchief and vainly attempting to staunch the flow of blood.

  “You won’t stop it that way,” Julia said, tugging off her gloves and shrugging out of her coat for ease of movement. “Step aside. I’m a nurse.”

  “A nurse?” He looked at her in surprise, but Julia wasn’t about to waste time on explanations. The jagged window glass had sliced deeply into Michael’s neck and cut an important blood vessel.

  “Do you want him to bleed to death?”

  Her bold words so stunned the man that Julia was able to move him out of the way. She took hold of Michael’s head. With her other hand, she pinched the cut together and pressed hard, using all her might to force the artery against the vertebral column in his neck. Blood spattered on her hands and gown as she struggled to find the right hold.

  “Is he dead?” cried the blond woman, wringing her hands.

  “Not yet,” Julia answered tersely. She had faced emergencies before, but this was serious enough to unsettle even her. She fought to maintain her own composure as she worked to stem the flow of blood.

  Michael’s sister looked just as panicked, but she was not cowering as the other woman was. She nearly slipped on the glass and blood as she dropped down beside Julia. “What are you doing? You’re strangling him!”

  “No, I’m keeping him from bleeding to death. We must keep pressure on the wound until we can get a doctor.” She met the woman’s gaze, willing her to believe what she was saying. “You must trust me on this, or he will die.”

  It was a shocking thing to say, but Julia had to make her understand. To her credit, this woman—Corinna, Michael had called her—immediately grew calm. Julia saw her take several deep breaths to steady herself. Corinna nodded. “What do we do next?”

  Julia could hear the commotion outside the carriage. “What’s happening? How far are we from the next station? We have to find a doctor right away.”

  The young man who had entered the carriage at the last stop poked his head through the broken window. His gloved hands and heavy coat protected him as he leaned out, assessing the situation. “There is a narrow pathway between the train and the tunnel wall. I see lights coming this direction. Men with lanterns, I believe. We must be closer to the station we just left. That’s the direction they’re coming from.”

  “Let’s hope there is a medic among them,” Julia said.

  “We are not going to wait for them to come to us!” Corinna exclaimed. “We are taking my brother out of this carriage right now.”

  “No! We can’t move him. The pressure has to remain constant. In this situation, the blood will not coagulate on its own. The artery must be forcibly closed.”

  “You will not move?” It was a command as well as a question.

  Julia could see Corinna was torn between her desire to remain with her brother and the need to find help. “I’m staying right here,” Julia confirmed. She wasn’t leaving until she knew Michael was safe.

  This was enough for Corinna to make up her mind. “I will find a doctor.” She rose to her feet and took hold of the other woman’s arm. “Laura, come with me.”

  Laura was crying, frozen with fear, staring at Michael.

  Corinna gave her a tug. “Come along,” she directed again, and finally got the woman moving.

  “I’ll go with you,” the man at the window offered. “Other people have already left their carriages. It’s a crush out there now, and you’ll need some muscle to get anywhere.”

  Just getting out of the carriage proved to be the first hurdle. Because of the slant of the train, they could only get the door open about a foot before it was stopped by the narrow ledge running the length of the tunnel. But it was enough to allow the young man to squeeze through and scramble up to the ledge. He turned and offered his hand to help Laura and Corinna up and out.

  “I’m coming with you,” another of the men declared. He was cradling his left arm in his right. “I need help.”

  It was clear he was in pain. Julia wanted to help, but sh
e could not let go of Michael. But the injured man wasn’t waiting for her response. He was already offering his good arm to the other man to help him out of the train.

  The man who had initially tried to stop the bleeding made no effort to leave. “I’ll stay with you until the doctor arrives,” he told Julia.

  “Thank you, Mr. . . . ?”

  “Carter.”

  “Can you tell me if the ladies are making progress?” On the floor with Michael, Julia could not see what was going on in the tunnel.

  Mr. Carter looked out the broken window. “There are a great many people, but that chap is helping the ladies push their way forward.” He turned back to Julia. “If you need me to help, to do anything . . .”

  “That’s very good of you.” In truth, Julia’s hands were tiring already. “It’s imperative that we keep the pressure on this artery hard and constant. Do you think you can help me with that?”

  He knelt beside her. “Just tell me what to do.”

  He was a large man, with beefy hands well-suited to provide the continuous, strong pressure needed, and he was willing to follow her directions exactly. But even after he was set and she felt confident enough to release her hold, she kept her hands hovering close by, ready to act if Mr. Carter’s grip should loosen. There was still some blood escaping from the wound, but it was no longer at dangerous levels.

  Miraculously, the lanterns in the carriage were still lit, but they flickered as though they might go out at any time. Julia prayed they would stay on.

  Once she was confident that Mr. Carter was keeping hold of the wound, Julia examined Michael further. He had other cuts on his head and face, but those appeared largely superficial. Opening his coat, she searched his pockets and found a handkerchief. She pulled it out and used it to wipe the blood from the minor wounds. His dark brown hair was thick but felt silky between her fingers as she pushed it back from his face. A short, faded scar ran along one cheekbone, most of it covered by his side-whiskers.

  She did a simple review of the rest of his body. His bulk filled much of the aisle. Just a few minutes ago, he’d been so strong and vigorous. Two fingers on his right hand appeared to be sprained or broken. She took out her own handkerchief and wrapped the fingers together as best she could to keep them from further injury. Then she carefully straightened one leg that had bent at an odd angle during his fall. That knee would likely cause him some pain later.

  “Your medical knowledge seems quite advanced for a nurse,” Mr. Carter said.

  “I am also in training to be a doctor.”

  In the past, Julia had found this pronouncement often drew skepticism. However, Mr. Carter only looked impressed. “Are you really? How astonishing.”

  The lights finally went out.

  Outside, people were still streaming past the carriage, desperate to escape the darkness. Long minutes went by before Julia heard shouting of a different kind. Officials from the Underground had arrived.

  “Stay calm, everyone! Stay calm!” an official shouted over the din. “You are in no immediate danger! Let us through! We must evacuate the injured!”

  “In here! He’s in here!” Corinna stumbled into the carriage, followed by several men. “I’ve brought the doctor! How is my brother?”

  Julia winced at the bright light of the lanterns carried by two of the men. “We’ve kept the bleeding at bay.” She spoke not only to Corinna but to the doctor, who knelt beside her and inspected the situation.

  “You did the right thing, sir,” the doctor said to Mr. Carter.

  “This young lady here showed me what to do,” Mr. Carter replied. “She’s studying to be a doctor.”

  “Are you?” The doctor gave Julia a brief, appreciative glance. “This was a good test for you, then.”

  Corinna looked at Julia with stunned disbelief. “You’re studying to be a doctor?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  The doctor opened his bag. “I’ve brought clamps to hold the wound shut until we can get him to surgery.”

  It was difficult for Julia to relinquish charge of her patient. She stayed close, watching as the doctor and an assistant worked to stabilize the wound.

  Corinna, too, hovered nearby, her eyes never leaving her brother.

  “He’s going to be all right,” Julia assured her. “We stemmed the loss of blood before any real damage was done.”

  Julia saw Corinna’s lower lip quiver. She knew how relief, when it came, could cause a wall of stoicism to crumble. But Corinna was holding herself firm, if just barely.

  “We can move him now,” the doctor announced. “Let’s get him on the stretcher.”

  Julia retrieved her coat as the men began moving Michael onto a stretcher that had been passed in through the broken window. “I’m coming with you.”

  “No!” Corinna exclaimed—rather too vehemently, Julia thought. “He’s in the doctor’s care now. There is no need for you to come along.” It seemed a rough dismissal after all Julia had done. But then Corinna added in a gentler voice, “Thank you. There are . . . no words.” Her voice was raspy, betraying the emotion behind her terse but clearly heartfelt thanks.

  It didn’t lessen Julia’s desire to accompany them, but she couldn’t go against the wishes of the wounded man’s sister. “You are most welcome. I thank God I was here to help.”

  Corinna’s mouth tightened, but she did not reply. Their attention was drawn back to Michael as the men passed the stretcher through the window to the waiting men outside.

  The doctor and his assistant helped Corinna out of the carriage, and they hurried to follow the men carrying Michael. Julia could only watch, assured that at least Michael was under medical care now, as men with lamps led the way for the stretcher bearers. It wasn’t long before they were far up the tunnel and out of sight.

  “Shall we get out of here?” Mr. Carter suggested. He was holding the last of the lanterns the men had brought with them.

  “Yes, I just need to find my things.” Julia returned to her seat to collect her reticule and the journal she’d been reading. As she did, her gaze was caught by something on the floor of the carriage. She picked it up. It was a calling card that read: Michael Stephenson, Barrister-at-Law, Gray’s Inn Buildings, London. It was stained with blood, but Julia wiped it as dry as she could and put it in her reticule.

  Mr. Carter struggled to get his girth through the narrow opening of the door, but eventually he made it. He helped Julia up to the walkway.

  The tunnel was empty of passengers by now. A crew of railway men had arrived and were beginning to assess how to get the train onto the tracks and moving again. Julia heard a commotion coming from one of the carriages at the front of the train. A workman was shouting to his fellows, “There’s a woman in here!”

  Julia and Mr. Carter got to him at the same time as several of the men from the railway.

  “She’s unconscious and hurt, too, I think,” said the workman. “I’ll need help to get her out.”

  They followed him into the carriage, which was no easy task. It was crunched from the impact, and the plain wooden seats were broken and jagged with boards sticking out at odd angles. A woman was trapped under one of the fallen beams.

  Working together, three men lifted the beam while a fourth wrapped his arms underneath the woman’s. She regained consciousness and began to moan in pain as he dragged her out from under the wreckage.

  Once the woman was free, Julia inspected her leg. It had been badly mangled by the weight of the board. The shinbone had broken through the skin. The woman was half-delirious, her face contorted and her eyes wide and white with terror. Julia kept up a continuous stream of comforting words as she devised a splint and got the leg set so that the woman could be safely moved. Two men carried her out under Julia’s direction, while Mr. Carter led the way with the lamp.

  The station was in an uproar, packed with people who’d been stranded by the shutdown. The streets outside were also in confusion, but station officials had been able to comm
andeer a wagon to take injured passengers to the hospital. They helped the woman into the wagon, but Julia declined to go herself.

  Mr. Carter also refused any help, insisting he had no injuries aside from some bruises. “Can I help you home?” he asked Julia after the wagon had gone. “I don’t think we’ll find a cab, but I can walk you there.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll be fine. I’m sure you’re anxious to get home.”

  “I am, rather,” he admitted. “If my wife has heard of the accident, she might worry herself to death before I can assure her I’m all right.”

  “You must tell her you were a hero today,” Julia said. “I’m grateful for all the help you gave me.”

  “You are the hero,” he insisted. “We’re lucky you were here, miss.” He tipped his hat and said good-bye, then set off through the crowd.

  It was late afternoon now, the sun nearly setting. Exhausted, Julia sat on a bench, gathering her strength for the walk home. She looked down at her gown, which was torn and spattered with dirt and blood. There would be no salvaging it. Unable to spare any money to replace it, Julia would have to make do with the few plain skirts she owned. But she could not feel any regret over the loss—nothing was as important as the knowledge that she’d saved a man’s life.

  She pulled the bloodstained calling card from her reticule and looked down at it, rereading the words printed on it. Michael Stephenson, Barrister-at-Law. Would she ever see him again?

  Yes.

  By now, the doctors would have sutured the artery shut and tended to his other wounds as well. Julia knew she had done the right thing by staying behind, which had enabled her to offer critical aid to the other passenger. But this did not lessen her disappointment that she hadn’t been able to accompany Michael to the hospital and perhaps even watch the surgery. Tomorrow she would go and visit him. Even though she had confidence in the doctors, she still wanted to see for herself that he was safe and on the road to recovery. Her heart would not rest easy until then.