Death of a Dowager

by Joanna Campbell Slan

  “Because my companion in the park was so . . . agitated. And because later, when I attended Lady Ingram, I was too late to help her.” A look of worry creased his brow.

  His desire to correct any wrongful attributions encouraged me to hold him in high regard.

  “Mr. Lerner, I have heard nothing but praise for you. I will admit that I’m curious as to what you learned in your examination of the leftover coffee, however.”

  “Unfortunately, my tests aren’t completed yet,” said the doctor.

  “At the risk of sounding rude, I’m afraid all his experiments will have to wait, Mrs. Rochester,” said Mr. Parmenter. “I value Mr. Lerner’s professional acumen highly, so I require his help as I examine your husband. Would you excuse us?”

  “No!” Edward’s abrupt command startled all of us. “Jane stays here. There is nothing you can do that my wife can’t see or hear.”

  “But often women grow weak—”

  “Not she. My wife is my helpmate and has the heart of a warrior. She stays or I walk out.”

  Chapter 31

  “Then we shall proceed,” said Mr. Parmenter. “Mrs. Rochester, please take a seat.”

  The ocular specialist took out a maple lap desk, a batch of papers, and a pen. “I have Mr. Carter’s report on your injury, but I would like to see for myself what we are dealing with.”

  As Lerner guided Edward backward onto the edge of the cot, I noticed that my husband’s jacket sat awkwardly on his person, and his hair, never neat or tidy, had fallen over his scarred brow.

  A lump formed in my throat, and I fought the urge to burst into tears. How forlorn he looked! Edward’s blindness caused him to be vulnerable in a manner totally at odds with his strong character. It was like seeing a fierce ox brought to its knees, with its head hanging low. All that held him upright was his pride, and that was slowly receding.

  Mr. Parmenter showed Edward a variety of black-and-white images, some of which Edward could identify, but others he could not distinguish clearly. “Are you certain, Mr. Rochester, that your vision was perfect before the accident? Did it never give you trouble? Particularly at twilight and at sunrise?”

  This stirred in me the memory of our first meeting, when Edward, on horseback, had not noticed me as he rode along the lane near Thornfield Hall at twilight. I said as much aloud.

  “That is true, darling girl. I accused you of bewitching me, but perhaps even then, my eyes were failing. I recall another such mishap one morning as I walked to the barn. I misjudged a step and fell to my knees. I chalked it up to clumsiness, but now I wonder,” Edward said.

  Mr. Parmenter traced his fingertips along Edward’s eyelid. “Mr. Lerner? See what you think. Touch his brow and lid. I wish to compare your impression with mine.”

  The young doctor did as instructed. When he finished, he turned to his mentor and said, “I believe there’s pressure behind the eye. That could account for his symptoms, and it would match what I’m feeling with my fingertips.”

  “Just so, just so,” said Mr. Parmenter.

  “Is there anything you can do?” I couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

  Mr. Parmenter turned and looked at me, as if he’d forgotten I was there.

  “As a matter of fact, there is. Lerner? Take Mrs. Rochester to the dispensary. I believe that new herb we just received from Asia is in order. You know the one?”

  “Yes, sir,” said the younger man. “Right this way, ma’am.”

  We walked together down a dim hallway to a small room, with a wall configured floor to ceiling with shelves. The lemon yellow morning light flowed through two windows, twinkling as it skipped across the faces of hundreds of glass jars labeled in hand-printed block letters, first declaring the common name, and secondly, in Latin, the genus and species.

  Lerner followed the alphabet as he worked to locate the medicinals. I thought this a good time to question him about his meeting with Mary Ingram. “Mr. Lerner, when I saw you in the park, you were quarreling with Miss Mary. She seems to think you have an understanding.”

  Supporting himself by resting the palms of his hands against the shelves, he closed his eyes and shook his head. “No. She is delusional. I accompanied Mr. Carter to the Ingram home. I served as his assistant in the care of her mother. Miss Mary took my ministrations as more than I intended.” He opened his eyes and turned to face me. “I swear to you, Mrs. Rochester, I have never, ever led Miss Mary to believe that I have any interest in her! Her insistence otherwise is wholly unwarranted. I have tried numerous times to tell her that she’s mistaken, but she refuses to listen. Why would I mislead her? To what advantage? There’s no future in it. I tell you candidly, I do not find her in the least attractive! There, if that exposes me as a cur, so be it.”

  He paused to rearrange two jars and then turned back to me. “Mrs. Rochester, I always tell the truth, even when it is uncomfortable. Always. If I am offered the position by your husband, I would seek the hand of another young woman. Her name is Miss Miriam Goldstein, and she would be a wonderful asset to us all.”

  His gaze was clear and direct. His eyes were the exact color of the walnut table in Lucy’s entry hall, and his curling hair crept down over the tops of his ears.

  Lerner turned his attention back to the jars. I only recognized a few names: absinthe, cayenne pepper, camomile, hops, valerian, lavender, white willow bark, and mint.

  “This is what Mr. Parmenter wants. Cannabis ruderalis. Commonly known as hemp. Grows throughout the Continent. A close cousin to hops. First discovered in China to have therapeutic benefits. Widely used now in India.”

  “Would I brew it in a tisane?”

  “Does your husband smoke a pipe?”

  “His preference is for cigars.”

  “This would be most potent if he used it instead of tobacco. It decreases intraocular pressure. The result should help improve his vision. I can come by later and show you both how best to use it.”

  My knees went weak with relief. “Really? An herb as simple as this can truly help?”

  “Of course, there are no sure cures, but we’ve heard about the efficacy of this treatment in other patients, and I have every reason to think Mr. Rochester could improve. At least a little.”

  “How long might it take to see results?”

  “That is uncertain. Could be as little as a week or ten days, or as long as several months. If I am chosen to fill the position in the county, I can track his progress and report back to Mr. Parmenter. He and I and Mr. Carter try to meet at least once a month to discuss . . . cases.”

  Once we were back in the examination area, Mr. Parmenter took the jar, ran a finger under the label, and nodded. “Yes, yes. My colleagues in the East have reported good results with this herb. I shall depend upon Mr. Lerner to help you learn how to use it to maximum effect, Mr. Rochester.”

  “Are you telling me that a simple plant could improve my vision?” Edward’s voice was husky with emotion. I could read in his posture that he was holding back all his fears, trying hard to seem more casual than he truly felt.

  “I am saying that used consistently, it could help,” Mr. Parmenter handed the jar back to his subordinate. “Mr. Lerner? Measure out two weeks’ worth of doses. We can revisit your condition in a fortnight, Mr. Rochester. While I cannot offer you promises, I can offer you hope.”

  “Thank you,” managed Edward, speaking in such a way that I could tell he had been holding his breath.

  I looked away from the men as I thrust my hand into my pocket to retrieve a handkerchief. I, too, wished to thank the doctor, but I could not bring myself to speak. Not yet.

  Was it possible that my husband could see again? I cleared my throat, fighting the intense emotions. Oh, what an answer to our prayers!

  Chapter 32

  That afternoon, Mr. Lerner appeared at Lucy’s front door. The young doctor had dropped
by to show Edward and me how to administer the medicinal herbs via a pipe called a “lovat.”

  “You’ll notice its bowl is small compared to some,” said Lerner. “The size is important. By the way, you should not switch back and forth between these herbs and tobacco. Use this pipe solely for the delivery of your medicinal doses.”

  The doctor removed a small tin from his satchel. “Could I ask for a portion of honey from your kitchen? It protects the wood of the pipe from catching fire.”

  Sadie brought up the golden syrup directly, and I watched as the doctor smeared a thin coating of the bee’s produce inside the bowl of the pipe. Mr. Lerner went on to explain how much of the herb to use, and how Edward should hold the smoke in his lungs as long as possible, before exhaling slowly.

  A sweet, not unpleasant scent filled the library as the herbs caught fire.

  “Thank you so much, Mr. Lerner,” I said. “I suppose we could have managed, but your oversight of the process is much appreciated.”

  The young man moved restlessly in the big tapestry chair, his large hands clasping and unclasping themselves, as though he longed to knead a sore limb. His eyes darted around the room, unable to find a spot worthy of their repose. His mouth slowly slid into a frown. “Yes, I was on my way back from Bow Street, and I thought it prudent to stop by . . . for several reasons. Earlier Mrs. Rochester asked me about the tests I was doing on the slurry of coffee from Lady Grainger’s house. But I hadn’t had the chance to complete my tests. Now I have.”

  This seemed a curious opening, but as to what, I could not tell, so I put away the leftover herbs and sat next to my husband. Edward finished the pipe and set it aside. I noticed that he seemed relaxed, and I wondered if this mood was caused by the herb or by the fact that at long last we had hope for improving his condition. “What did you find?”

  “The dredges did contain some sort of poison. I informed Mr. Waverly of my findings, and when I did, he told me that he had received a letter last night from Miss Mary Ingram. In it, she accuses me of killing her mother.”

  I could not stop my sharp intake of breath. This was an astonishing and troubling turn of events.

  “That makes no sense at all,” said Edward. “If you had done, why would you admit the coffee was to blame? You had it within your power to claim that Lady Ingram died of natural causes.”

  “Yes, sir, that is true. But her letter arrived before I submitted my report to Mr. Waverly. In fact, I’m not even sure she knew I’d taken the coffee or that I planned to test it.”

  “From her actions in the park,” I said, “it was clear that Miss Mary was overtaken with her affection for you, but even still, accuse you of murder? That is ridiculous, and cruel beyond words.”

  The young man nodded, his face wearing as forlorn of a look as I have ever seen. “Yesterday afternoon, she sent me a letter by courier warning me that I should ‘come to my senses’ and proclaim my affection for her. ‘Now or never’ were her words. Again, she suggested that I had led her on!”

  “From what I saw in Hyde Park,” I said, “you made your lack of interest very clear. You also told her your affections lie with another.”

  Mr. Lerner fairly burst out of his seat with agitation. “I swear to you both, I was not involved with Miss Mary! Or her mother’s death! I have done nothing but act according to my capacity as her mother’s physician. Believe me, I have begun to rue the day I was called upon by Mr. Carter to assist him.”

  We were all silent, thinking our separate thoughts, when the young man settled back into his seat and hastened to add, “Of course, if I had not worked with Mr. Carter, I should never have come to your attention, Mr. Rochester. So I don’t mean to sound ungrateful—and I am fully committed to being a doctor. Miss Mary has not shaken my belief in my calling.”

  Now he paused, “But under the circumstances I would understand if you no longer want to consider me for the position in your county.”

  Edward raised his hand to brush away the younger man’s concerns. “No, Mr. Lerner, there is no need for you to withdraw your application. When making my decision, Miss Mary Ingram’s accusation will not carry weight in my deliberations. Her finger pointing is illogical. You have no motive for murdering her mother. Furthermore, why would you take such pains to prove your own guilt? While I appreciate your recognition that I am in a difficult position if she continues to blame you, I am no coward. I will not pass over an outstanding applicant simply because Miss Mary is lovesick.”

  “What did Mr. Waverly say?” I asked. I could not imagine the Bow Street Runner giving the Ingram girl’s accusation much credit. He was far too canny for that.

  “At this juncture, he does not consider me a valid suspect,” said Mr. Lerner. “However, there will be an investigation. It was ordered by the King even before I returned my verdict on the leftover coffee. Since the Marchioness was present at the time of Lady Ingram’s death, our Majesty worries that his friend might be in danger.”

  “Naturally so, since attempts have been made on his life,” said Edward, “and she is his close associate.”

  I shook my head, “But highly unlikely. None of us knew the Marchioness planned to visit—and poisoning takes planning.”

  Mr. Lerner kept his eyes on the carpet. I watched his throat move as he swallowed hard. “Mr. and Mrs. Rochester, while I heartily appreciate your support, if word gets out that I have been blamed, you really should consider distancing yourselves from me. In fact, after I leave here, I plan to visit Miriam to tell her the same.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because I am a Jew,” he said quietly, “and when Jews are blamed for a crime, our entire community is often punished as well. If the investigation does point to me, the general unrest might well boil over. If I am seen as a lone predator, both of you—and Miriam—will be safer.”

  I had not considered how Mr. Lerner’s religion would put him at exceptional risk. Or how it might spill over to involve us. But even as I tried to maintain my equilibrium, the coals of anger began to burn hot within me. What sort of woman would point a finger at the very man she had claimed to love? What drove Miss Mary to such extremes of perfidy?

  A shudder swept through me. The King’s interest in Lady Ingram’s death could not bode well. It would be far too easy for Bow Street to find a scapegoat in order to make our sovereign happy.

  Unable to sit still any longer, I got to my feet and walked to the window. Looking out at the bustling street, I calmed myself. Surely Mr. Waverly won’t allow a miscarriage of justice!

  No, that was not the type of man he was. I had faith in Mr. Waverly. I had seen him make hard choices, and he had always come down on the side of fairness.

  “It seems to me,” said Edward, “that Miss Mary Ingram has gone to extraordinary lengths to do you ill, young man.”

  I could not hold my tongue. “She is a woman scorned. You weren’t there, Mr. Rochester, so you can’t imagine how angry she was when she heard that he had affections for another woman. She even struck Mr. Lerner across the face.”

  Touching his face gingerly as he remembered the blow, Mr. Lerner gave me a sheepish smile. “It was certainly a stinging rebuke. I regret any disappointment I might have caused her, but I give you my word that I never, ever led her on. Why should I? Even if I found her otherwise suitable, we could never be wed. She’s not of my faith! And frankly, her station is far above mine.”

  “But the news that you cared for another woman seemed to come as a surprise to Miss Mary,” I said.

  “I had no reason to share my personal life with her. Miss Mary did speak to me, as any patient might to her doctor, and told me how she longed to be married. The slow progress her sister has made to the altar is worrisome to her but I tried to reassure her. I can only guess Miss Mary took my attempt at consolation as confirmation that I found her attractive. I confess that I’ve never been very skilled at nonsensical chatter
, or what passes for polite conversation, and I may have made a mess of things.”

  “So from this disappointment, she has manufactured a crime? A felony no less?” Edward shook his head in wonder. “The Ingrams grow ever more accomplished at punishing anyone who disappoints them. Well, let us hope that Waverly finds the real culprit, and that this storm blows over quickly. None of this makes me change my opinion of you, Lerner.”

  Even though he could not see me, I smiled at my husband. The world had not always dealt kindly with Edward Rochester, but early in our friendship I had sensed that despite his travails, he had held fast to his innate sense of fair-dealing. Now I was overflowing with pride for how my husband treated this young doctor. But Mr. Lerner still harbored concerns. “This unsavory episode did make me aware of other problems that might lie ahead. Will the vicar of your parish take exception to me? If he does, your tenants might reject my services.”

  Edward inclined his head in the sort of contemplative gesture that caused my knees to go weak with love for him. When he spoke, it was with great kindness. “Since I support the parish, I doubt that there will be problems in that regard. I think if Carter introduces you around, you will be well accepted. I shall encourage him to make much of your fresh ideas.”

  The doctor’s forehead creased in thought. “That is a benefit I bring to the work. I am fortunate to have many friends in the scientific community. These are men who eagerly seek the advancement of new ideas and methods.”

  “This honest discourse has convinced me,” said Edward, congenially. “A man who cares more for others than himself would be a valuable addition to our county. My wife and I welcome you—and your young lady if she is agreeable—to our county. I hope you will come and serve my tenants with the sort of honesty and compassion you have exhibited here today. I want your introduction to be as seamless as possible, so I believe Carter should be with us when we talk of particulars.”

  “That’s easily accomplished,” said Mr. Lerner. “I am in receipt of a letter that states he’ll be here in a day or so. He wanted an update on your case, and his wife had hoped to avail herself of many London shops.”