The Marquess and the Midwife (*On Hold*)

10 Kyrie

"That denotes a capital investment," Norah was explaining, reaching over to point at a symbol that appeared to be in Greek. She cocked her head to the side as she watched me nod at her information. "You really never learned any of this, did you?"

"My mother was a patron of the arts," I answered with a sigh. "I fancied myself an artist. I was not."

She actually smiled at that. It was rare to see Norah smile but it was a sight that I was growing used to in the week since the ball my sister had held in which Miss Collins and I had struck up our arrangement. I was just never sure whether or not the smile was genuine or fake.

"Clever of you to hide your ledger in a book of poetry," she told me, nodding at the little DIY project I had turned my mother's old Sir Walter Raleigh collection into. "Though it feels a bit sacrilegious to hollow out pretty words for boring figures."

"These boring figures have the capacity to ruin me," I answered. "That makes them rather exciting, I think."

She frowned at that and I glanced over my shoulder to where my sister and her mother were chatting to one another, strolling a respectable distance away on our walk through the park. Enough to give us space so that we might speak freely with one another but not so far away that Norah and I could succumb to our baser urges behind one of these unkempt bushes. I nearly snorted at the thought. As if Norah would ever let me get her near one of those bushes.

"Your mother believes us?" I asked and Norah looked back to me then.

"Ever since the ball," she told me. "Your sister?"

"I think she's actually in love with you."

She snorted.

"I'm serious," I joked. "All day long it's Miss Collins this, Miss Collins that. Do you think Miss Collins would like these drapes? Do you think Lord and Lady Collins would care to be invited for dinner? Have you called upon Miss Collins yet today?"

"You've been in my parlor every day this week," she recounted, an amused grin on her lips. "Truly, nothing is enough for these vultures."

I chuckled, shaking my head as we veered back towards town.

"Thank you," I told her then, my voice falling lower so as not to be overheard. "For helping me. Your penchant for mathematics puts me to shame."

"I've always liked the work," she confessed with a shrug. "It's sensible, orderly. A place for everything and everything in its place. And it's not just the numbers. It's what they represent. Investments in goods of faraway lands, business transactions that shape the city around us, receipts that tell a tale of a lifestyle, that provide sustenance for the local merchants. I always found it far more enticing than the pianoforte or for my dancing lessons. But father pushed me out of his office the moment I hit puberty, saying it wasn't appropriate for a woman to be so skilled in the accounts."

"Well, I for one am glad that you are. Though I did notice that you're a very poor dancer."

She opened her mouth as if in surprise and elbowed me hard in the ribs. I laughed out loud so suddenly and sharply that it sent birds nearby flying upwards in alarm. The conversation between my sister and her mother behind us halted, the women obviously scandalized by Miss Collins' assault. But I just laughed and stood up straighter, gathering her arm in mine and holding it tight so that it appeared to be affectionate when really I was just trying to ensure there wouldn't be a second blow.

"So no dancing," I said, making a show to wheeze as though injured. It made her smile again. "And you hate the pianoforte. So what does interest you?"

"I like to read," she told me. "And I like the gardens. I like to understand how things grow."

I smiled. She didn't like the gardens because they were pretty. She liked them as something to study. That was interesting.

"And your other... pursuits?" I asked, lowering my voice even more.

She looked up at me and I prepared myself for another elbow to the gut but it never came. Instead, she averted her gaze and answered just as quietly.

"They are going well," she said.

She fell quiet then and I regretted bringing the matter up at all. I shouldn't have, I knew that. I should have left it well enough alone. It wasn't my business, after all, and I hadn't asked her to tell me as a part of our arrangement. Truly, I had no right to know. But it had been bothering me. I couldn't think of a reason why a young woman would be visiting a young handsome doctor in the middle of the day all alone, or why they would be so secretive about it, except for one. And, for some reason, I didn't want to admit that might be the truth of the matter.

"I regret my behavior in adolescence," I told her because it felt like I was supposed to, because it felt like she needed me to. She tensed at the mentioning of it but I pressed on all the same. "I was a confused child unable to express my feelings in an appropriate way. So I mocked you in front of my friends, in front of everyone, so that they wouldn't know that the truth of the matter was that I liked you."

Her head whipped around to face me.

"Liked me?" she asked, wide eyed.

I chuckled.

"Not to worry," I assured her. "Your foul disposition ever since has utterly driven all lustful thoughts from my mind."

She stared at me for a moment, stunned by my admission. But then her lips spread into a wide grin and she burst into a fit of laughter so genuine I nearly stopped walking in surprise. It was a raw sound, sputtering and choked but entirely real, and it warmed my heart to hear it. It died down a few moments later and we walked on in friendly silence for some time before she spoke again.

"He's teaching me about medicine," she said suddenly. "The doctor."

I tried not to appear too taken aback as she took a breath and launched into the story.

"It all started when I went to visit my sister. She went into labor quite suddenly and the doctor was forced to come without his assistant. So I offered to help and he walked me through it. I cradled my nephew's head as he came into the world and I knew, in that moment, what my true purpose was. There's not another feeling like it, bringing life, healing. I pestered that poor doctor until he agreed to allow me to study with him. He taught me all about childbirth, about wounds and tonics, about surgeries. I assisted him in dozens of births. And when I came here, I wanted to continue my studies so I tracked down a doctor young enough and progressive enough to agree to continue my tutelage. I'm lucky to have found two men willing to teach me. And it's... the only thing I want to do."

I watched her as she spoke, more and more in wonder of this woman before me as she told her story. It hadn't been my imagination that Norah Collins had little to no patience for the finery of the gentry, for these ridiculous mating rituals and gaudy displays of wealth and power. She didn't care for title or pedigree, didn't mind not having the latest dresses or the clearest jewels. She just wanted to heal people, to birth babies and care for their mothers. And how insignificant the rest of our desires seemed in comparison.

"I have no interest in the doctor beyond what he can teach me," Miss Collins said then and I was drawn out of my thoughts to look at her again. "Most days, Silvia comes with me so that she can serve as chaperone during our meetings. The last thing either of us needs is to be spotted alone together and be held to some misconception of society. In fact, he will be furious to know you saw us on the one day Silvia was unable to make it."

"I won't tell him," I told her and her gaze shot to mine. I met it with resolve. "I won't tell anyone."

With that vow, we fell into a silence far more comfortable than it had ever been before and enjoyed the rest of our walk with her mother and my sister close behind. And when I bent to kiss her hand at the culmination of our walk around the park, the awe I let shine through my eyes wasn't entirely for show. Because there was more to this girl than met the eye. She had a mind, a true, individual mind of her own. And wasn't that what I had claimed to be searching for all along?

If only I had found it in anyone but Norah Collins.