Julia took a deep breath. “Not exactly, my lord.”
“Ha! I suspected as much.” With an angry wave of his hand, he turned aside. “My daughter wishes only to annoy me. She refuses to act in a sane and reasonable manner. She is determined to remain a laughingstock, bringing shame on all of us.”
“Hardly a laughingstock, sir. She is an intelligent and thoughtful woman, and proving to be an astute physician as well.” She studied his movements as he walked toward the far end of the room. What was ailing him? Gout? An old injury of some kind? Perhaps it was arthritis, for he moved as if his entire body was in pain.
“A physician.” He spoke the word with disgust. “I have outlived my wife and my son. Now all I have left is a daughter—who isn’t my daughter. She wants to help the world but neglects her real duties. She sends some sort of apologist in her stead.” When he reached the large windows, he took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow, his hand shaking a little. The sweating, and his apparent weakness, was a stark contrast to his forceful manner. “Well?” the earl barked. “What have you to say, then?”
“The truth, sir, is that Lady Edith does not know I am here today.”
“What!”
Julia spoke quickly, before he could launch into another tirade. “I came here because I believe she would be willing to patch things up with you, if you would only agree to meet her halfway.”
“Impossible.” The earl seemed prone to brief and declarative statements, the kind that brooked no argument. “And who are you, that you take it on yourself to come on her behalf yet without her knowledge?”
“I am a student at Queen’s College in London. Next year I will begin my studies at the London School of Medicine for Women.”
“I knew it! You’re another of those females who simply will not understand your place. Why are you in London, or for that matter, gallivanting around the countryside, annoying your betters? You ought to go back home to your family.”
“I’m afraid I cannot do that, sir,” Julia answered. “I have no home to speak of, and two sisters who are also making their own way in the world. I did not have the luxury of rich parents.”
“If you are anything like Edith—and it appears you are—it would not have done you much good anyway,” the earl replied without sympathy. “She spends her time demeaning herself and our family name by consorting with all manner of base people. She might have married the man who will inherit my title when I am gone. I don’t see why she should have the least objection. They are not even so closely related, for all that people make a bother about such things nowadays. He’s her second cousin, once removed. Who could object to that?”
“Perhaps the problem is that she doesn’t love him?” Julia suggested.
“She hardly knows him! If she would spend some time with him, she’d see he’s a perfectly agreeable, sensible man. As much as I hate that my son’s death has caused our family line to end, I will admit my heir is a good man for the inheritance. But no, she has to go off and make a public spectacle of herself with all these causes. Women in medicine! Women’s suffrage! Schools for the poor!” He spoke each of these things as though they were the most absurd ideas ever conceived.
During this tirade, Julia noticed a writing table with pen and paper on it. She went over to it and quickly began writing.
This arrested the earl’s attention—probably more than her protests might have done.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“This is information about a liniment that I think might be helpful to you.” She kept writing as she spoke. “These ingredients should be available from a chemist. I’m including the proportions, as well as information on how to burn the pokeroot first.”
She tried to extend the paper toward him, but he shooed her away.
“I do not need instruction from you!”
“Very well, I will leave it here.” She set the paper on the desk. “I will also say before I go that it is a shame when families cannot be together. I lost both my parents before I was nine, and so never had even the possibility of that happiness. You and Edith ought to make up and not allow petty grievances to keep you separated.”
“Do you think I am the cause of this trouble? She is separating herself from me! Disrespectful creature.”
“Far from being ashamed of your daughter, you ought to be proud of her. She has a gift for helping people, and she is using it. At the Royal Free Hospital, I saw her save the life of a young boy. She was astute enough to see the signs of internal bleeding, and she immediately took measures to keep the child from dying. There were licensed physicians in the hospital that day—all men—but none of them saw those critical signs. It was Edith.”
“Stop!” the earl ordered. “I will not be lectured at in my own home.” He vigorously pulled the rope to call for a servant. “I don’t know why I even agreed to see you.”
But Julia wasn’t ready to concede just yet. “The boy’s parents are extremely grateful that Edith made medicine her choice of occupation. What is the life of a boy worth?”
The earl stood, glaring at her, the red in his face reaching all the way up to his white hair. “I know very well what a boy’s life is worth. I am glad to know how good Edith is at healing other people’s children.”
The bleak coldness of his words penetrated Julia’s heart. She had not persuaded him; just the contrary. By reminding him of the son he had lost, she had inadvertently poured salt on his wounds.
The butler entered the room.
“Show this woman out,” ordered the earl.
The butler sent a glance toward the window. Outside, the rain was pouring down steadily. “Now, sir?”
“You heard me!”
The earl spoke so sharply that any ordinary person would have jumped. Julia certainly did, even though she had no fear of this man. But the butler was no doubt used to his master’s ways by now. He turned toward Julia, clearly intending to show her the door.
“Good afternoon, your lordship. Thank you again for seeing me today.” Despite her misstep, she was determined that being tossed out into the rain was not going to quell her pride.
Her polite words only angered him more. “Good afternoon!” he responded, loading those two words with so much vitriol that Julia almost felt sorry for him.
She followed the butler to the front hall, where he helped her into her damp coat. As she made her way down the muddy lane, she prayed. She guessed that not too many people prayed for this man—especially if he’d treated them as he’d done her. It certainly was not the outcome she’d been hoping for. She prayed she had not been wrong to come here, and that even if she had, that some good might come of it.
“Wonderful news,” Lisette said, speaking as usual without preamble as she entered the student laboratory and approached the table where Julia was working.
Julia looked up from her microscope, irritated at being interrupted just as she’d gotten a good focus on this blood sample. The university examination was a little over a month away, and she still had so much information to master. Keeping her full attention on her studies had been hard enough, between worry over the upcoming trial and her continuing battle not to think of Michael. “What news?”
“Didn’t you receive one of these in the mail?” Lisette thrust a sheet of paper toward Julia.
“I’ve been here all afternoon.” The house matron delivered mail to the students’ bedrooms, but Julia had spent the greater part of the day studying in the laboratory. She glanced down at the paper. It was a printed notice.
“The medical school is offering free tutoring,” Lisette said. She began to give more details, but Julia was already reading the notice with astonishment.
The London School of Medicine for Women
Now offering tutoring sessions free of charge to candidates who will be sitting for London University’s Preliminary Examination in June with the express purpose of enrolling in the London School of Medicine for Women.
All topics covered: Latin, Alge
bra & Geometry, English Language, English History, Natural Sciences, Chemistry.
Groups of 1–4 will be formed as needed.
Inquire at the London School of Medicine for Women during regular business hours. Must present proof of registration for the June examination.
Julia read it through twice, still unable to believe it was true. How astounding that this offer should come just when she needed it. “Has the medical school ever done this before?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Why do you suppose they are doing it now? And how can they afford it—especially with the uncertainties of the lawsuit?”
“Perhaps that is exactly why they are doing it!” Lisette raised one arm dramatically in the air, fist clenched. “It’s an act of defiance, to show the almighty Earl of Westbridge that yes, the school will survive, and yes, it will be filled with qualified students!”
Julia doubted this was the motive. But whatever the reason, she was thankful. “How many ladies do you think are sitting for that exam?”
Lisette shrugged. “We are a small but illustrious group. I don’t think everyone will ask for the tutoring, though. Some women have hired their own tutors already and do not need more help. I do, however. I will sign up for English history—that is my worst subject. Such dry, boring stuff.” Having been raised primarily in France, Lisette’s lack of knowledge or interest in English history was understandable. “But you will sign up for Latin, yes?”
“Yes!” Julia answered enthusiastically. “Plus anything else I can.”
Lisette threw an arm around her. “Mon amie, we are going to pass this exam with honors—maybe even get a prize! You know there are two prizes being offered by the medical school, don’t you?”
“Indeed I do.” The prizes were cash gifts to be applied to tuition. It would go a long way toward making ends meet next year. Julia did not truly hope to win one of these. Having come from so far behind on schooling, she’d long since decided she’d be content just to earn reasonable scores.
“I have a new theory,” said Lisette. “You know those prizes are funded by some of the school’s more generous patrons. Maybe they want to make the competition more lively, so they are paying for the tutoring!”
“How do you come up with these ideas?” Julia teased, shaking her head. Although she and Lisette had their disagreements at times, Julia admired her tenacity and drive.
Lisette murmured aloud as she perused the notice again. “‘Proof of registration . . .’” She looked at Julia. “You have registered for the exam, haven’t you?”
“Of course!”
“Then shall we go to the school and see about signing up for tutoring?”
“Yes. Let’s go today.”
This was a blessing to savor, even if for Julia it felt bittersweet. The tutoring from Michael was gone—and so much more—yet here she was being presented with a new set of opportunities. It was a reminder yet again to keep her eyes—and heart—on the dreams God had given her.
CHAPTER
26
THE TUTORING SESSIONS were a major boost to Julia’s studies. Every day, from late in the afternoon until nearly nine o’clock, she and a handful of others worked with teachers who were experts in their fields, breaking up into small groups as needed. The medical school had even set aside a classroom for the purpose.
For two weeks now, the Latin tutor had drilled Julia on declensions, conjugations, and vocabulary. It was effective for learning, even if it was all done by rote. He did not have Michael’s enthusiasm to seek out deeper, richer hues of meaning in the texts. But he was teaching her what she needed to know for the exam, and she was grateful.
For the next two days, however, Julia had to set the lessons aside in order to attend the trial. Although she could not allow herself to believe that the libel suit could signal the end of the school, she had to acknowledge the situation was serious enough to warrant her prayerful presence.
She knew she would see Michael there, of course. As she entered the courtroom, she caught her first glimpse of him since the heartrending moment when she’d walked away from him in the park. He stood at a table near the judge’s desk, deep in conversation with Mr. Tamblin. It was the first time she’d seen Michael in his barrister’s wig and robes. He looked so different and formal, emanating unmistakable gravitas.
His gray eyes were just the same, though. Her heart did a painful jump when he looked up and his gaze met hers. Julia longed for some sign of acknowledgment, however subtle. Some indication of the previous warmth they had shared, or even of the regret she’d seen in his eyes on the last day they’d met. But she saw only the impersonal coolness one might show a stranger. Perhaps he’d found it easy to go on with his life. If so, they had made the right choice. Even if it pained her to admit it.
Michael did not hold her gaze for long. Mr. Tamblin said something, and Michael turned to reply. He did not look her way again. He had a job to do, and by all appearances, he was more than ready to do it. Did he not regret that either, even knowing what it might do to Julia’s future? She swallowed the lump in her throat along with her disappointment.
Lisette, who had come with her, tugged her toward the visitors’ benches. They had to squeeze together on the end of a bench near the back, because the courtroom was packed with spectators.
“Do this many people normally come to watch a trial?” Julia asked her.
“Everyone has come to see the lady doctors,” Lisette replied, making a face. “Like we’re strange creatures or monkeys in the London Zoo. Look at how they’re staring at Dr. Tierney and the others.”
Sure enough, most people in the crowd were watching as Dr. Tierney and Dr. Anderson entered the courtroom accompanied by members of the school’s board of directors and their legal counsel. Everyone in the group looked very solemn. All did their best to ignore the sea of onlookers and refused to acknowledge the jeers and whistles sent their way.
Julia felt a nudge as Edith sat down next to her, just managing to find enough space to fit on the edge of the bench.
“I wasn’t sure whether you’d want to come,” Julia said.
Edith’s expression was grim. “I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”
There was a fresh round of excitement as the Earl of Westbridge made his entrance. His gait was slow, and he leaned heavily on a cane, but any physical weakness he showed was offset by the lift of his head and his haughty expression. He walked to the front of the room and joined Michael and Mr. Tamblin.
The jurors filed in, taking their seats in the jury box. Everyone was seated now except the usher, a large man standing in front of the judge’s high desk. He wore a gown but no wig, and he held a long staff.
“Silence in the court!” he bellowed, punctuating the command by banging his staff on the floor. A hush fell over the room. Directing everyone to rise, the usher announced the judge.
Julia had not been able to imagine why the trial was scheduled to take two days, but before long she began to understand. The opening proceedings alone, including swearing in of the jurors, reading out the cause for the libel suit, and many other formalities, took what seemed an eternity. Or was it because she was so intensely aware of Michael’s presence in the courtroom? She watched him from the corner of her eye. He appeared somber and wholly attentive to his duties.
Mr. Tamblin’s opening remarks were lengthy, citing references to legal precedents that meant nothing to Julia. He included many Latin phrases, too. Some words were easy to translate, but whatever legalities they referenced were beyond Julia’s realm of knowledge. Although he also covered in detail the actions and words of Dr. Tierney that had brought about this case, that did not seem to be the primary focus of his remarks. He seemed to spend more time discussing the reasons for libel laws, their history, and their import. He spoke of the ways they protected people’s reputations, and how especially right and proper that was when it came to attacks on a peer of the realm. After a while, Julia began to think this sounded more like a univers
ity lecture than a discussion of this specific case.
Her sentiments were echoed by Lisette, who at one point murmured with exasperation, “I don’t understand what is happening. The prosecution has not even tried to offer a rebuttal of Dr. Tierney’s statements. Instead they keep blathering on about how important and noble his lordship is. And he is eating up the attention.”
Lord Westbridge did indeed look exceedingly content to be the center of attention. He often sent an imperious gaze over the courtroom, as though to assert his authority. But there was one place he seemed to be deliberately not looking, and that was toward the back benches where Julia and the other students were seated.
Julia glanced at Edith. Surely it was difficult for her to sit through this. There was no sign of sadness on her face, however. Only anger. “Look at him, acting for all the world as if he were holding court, instead of sitting in one.”
Even though the earl had treated Julia badly when she’d visited him, it still made her sad to hear Edith speak of her own father in such harsh terms.
“I hope the defense ensures our side of the issue is clearly laid out for the jury,” one of the other students whispered nervously.
“We will prevail,” Julia answered with conviction.
This drew a look of surprise from Lisette. “What makes you so sure?”
“We will prevail because we must,” Edith said before Julia could answer. But the dark look she sent her father showed that she was not speaking from a place of optimism, as Julia had been, but from warlike determination.
The proceedings continued at a lugubrious pace until finally, the judge declared the court adjourned until tomorrow.
“How do you think it is going?” Julia asked Edith as everyone began to spill into the corridor outside the courtroom.
“It’s impossible to say. I think we’ll know better tomorrow, when we are able to present our defense.”
The Heart's Appeal Page 26
