Page 75 of Ghost of the Ton

“Och, I ken that, Yer Ladyship,” Evie said, “but if my Murdoch hears I’ve been—”

“Did you know, Evie, that all doctors pledge an oath of confidentiality to their patients?” Mia said. “I am duty bound not to utter a word of what passes between me and those who seek treatment. Not even to those who believe that they have ownership of another person. You’ll be quite safe here. Brodie won’t say anything, will you, Brodie?”

“Evie knows I wouldnae, dinnae ye, lass?”

“Come in, then,” Mia said. “I’ve just finished making some tea, if you’d like a cup.”

She ushered Evie into the parlor and settled her into a chair by the fire. On impulse, she reached for a blanket and draped it over the woman’s knees. Evie clung to it, her thin, bony fingers curling into the fabric.

Brodie kneeled at Evie’s feet and took her hands. “How are ye?” he said. “I’ve not seen ye for a fortnight.”

Evie glanced at Mia, and Mia left the cousins while she made the tea. When she returned, Brodie was still at Evie’s feet. They stopped talking and watched her, unease in their eyes as she set the tray on the table.

“Here’s your tea, Brodie,” Mia said. “It’s made from willow bark with a spoon of honey to alleviate the bitterness. It’ll help with your pain.” Then she handed a cup to Evie, who cradled it in her hands before taking a sip. “How can I help you, Evie?”

“Och, it’s nothing, ma’am. I’ll just be on my way once I’ve had my tea.”

“Evie, tell her,” Brodie said. “There’s no need for shame, for all that Murdoch says.”

Mia let out a huff. Murdoch, it seemed, had a lot to answer for. “And what does Murdoch say?”

Evie colored, and Brodie took her hand and nodded. “Go on.”

“I-I cannae give my husband another child,” she said. “Not since…”

She glanced at Brodie, her eyes glistening with moisture.

“Evie lost a child last winter,” Brodie said. “A boy. Stillborn—after her pains came early. She’s not been strong since.”

“And did anything happen to make your pains come early?” Mia said.

“I fell,” Evie said. “I’m not strong enough to…” She curled her fingers around the blanket, then lifted her gaze to Mia, and Mia’s heart broke at the plea in her eyes. “I-I was wondering if ye had something to make me strong, so I could give my husband another child.”

Mia tempered the anger boiling in her gut, and fear flickered in Evie’s eyes.

“Oh, forgive me, ma’am—I know it’s sinful to speak of such things, a-and I’m not speaking against my husband, b-but I’m not a good wife to him, and I w-want…” Her voice wavered and Mia took her hand.

“If you want my opinion, I think it’s Murdoch who’s not being a good husband to you.”

“B-but I love him. I vowed to obey him.”

As, no doubt, Murdoch had vowed to honor and cherish his wife. But the rules of society and the church were intended to perpetuate the advantages of men and maintain the distinction between them and the women those men believed they had ownership of. And nobody could help with whom they fell in love—even if the object of their love would never return it.

Mia glanced over the young woman—the pallor of her cheeks, and the dark rings beneath her eyes.

“Do you tire easily?” she asked.

“Aye, ma’am.”

“And sometimes feel faint when you stand?”

Evie nodded. “H-how did ye know?”

“I suspect you have anemia.”

Evie’s eyes widened with fear. “Am I going to die?”

“No,” Mia said. “It’s easy to treat and doesn’t require medicine. Do you eat much meat?”