As Una was leaving the hospital that evening with the other trainees, she spied Edwin leaning against the doorjamb of the doctors’ dining room. Their eyes met for the flash of a moment, and he inclined his head toward the stairwell at the far end of the hall. It was a slight movement, one someone less trained in observation would have missed. She might not be practiced at assessing the character and frequency of a patient’s cough, but Una could certainly read a man’s behavior. How else could she pick the perfect dupe?
Not that Una thought of Edwin as a dupe. If anyone was a dupe in this situation, it was her. To meet him like this—here at the hospital where anyone could stumble upon them—was beyond foolish. But instead of pretending not to have noticed, she gave a quick nod.
“I forgot to tell the night nurse something important,” she said to the other trainees. “I’d better go back.”
“We’ll wait for you,” Dru said cheerily, even as the others rolled their eyes and grumbled. Una couldn’t blame them, not with a warm supper waiting at the nurses’ home.
“No, it could take a while, what if she’s busy and all. I’ll be fine walking back on my own.”
Dru looked unconvinced as if crossing the street and walking half a block alone were as perilous as a midnight stroll down Bottle Alley. Una squeezed Dru’s hand. Her concern, though entirely unfounded, was touching. “I’ll have the night watchman escort me.”
With Dru appeased, the women hurried out while Una turned around and started up the main staircase. She climbed to the second story, followed the hallway to the narrower flight of stairs at the far end, and crept back to the first floor. She sat on the bottom step and waited. The old brick bones of the hospital creaked around her like a giant troll shifting on its haunches. Otherwise it was quiet.
Her mind strayed to the Insane Pavilion—the dead woman, the attendant, and Traveling Mike. Could they truly be connected? She unpinned her cap and loosened the bun at the nape of her neck. Her thoughts were so mired she didn’t hear Edwin’s approaching footfalls and startled when he opened the stairwell door.
“Forgive me, Miss Kelly. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
It wasn’t him Una was afraid of, even though everything about him whispered danger for her plans. “You didn’t. I was just lost in thought.”
He started to say something in reply when footsteps sounded on the stairs above. He grabbed her hand and led her from the stairwell. As soon as they were out in the open, he let go, and Una found herself missing the warmth of his touch. He passed through two adjoining wards, down a short flight of stairs, and out a heavy door covered with sheet iron into the night. Una followed a safe distance behind. Once she made it outside, she realized they’d exited onto the grounds between the north wing and Twenty-Eighth Street. To her right lay the ambulance stables. To her left, a low-slung brick building Una didn’t recognize. Its windows were dark and only a faint swirl of smoke puffed from the chimney.
Edwin stood in the open doorway of the building, waiting for her. She looked about to be sure no one else was lingering around the grounds, then joined him. He closed the door behind them and struck a match. The vast room swallowed its feeble light.
“Where are we?”
Edwin grabbed an oil lamp from a peg on the wall and lit the wick. The light flared then settled into a soft glow, illuminating the room. Shelves filled with bottles lined the walls. A stone mortar the size of a soup pot sat on a nearby counter, its wooden pestle—itself the size of a chair rung— resting to one side. Copper vats borne aloft on iron stands were scattered around the room alongside metal boilers and enormous glass beakers. The air smelled sharp and faintly metallic.
“This is the drug department’s manufacturing laboratory,” he said. “Pharmaceutical preparations for the entire city are made here.”
“And they keep it unlocked?”
Edwin patted his jacket pocket. “Skeleton key. All the doctors have one.” Una wandered farther into the room. Ropes and pulleys dangled from the ceiling. At the far end, an open hatchway led down to the cellar where dozens of brandy barrels were stacked. A drunk would have a heyday in
here. Or a thief, for that matter. Or a pair of furtive lovers. She turned around and looked at Edwin. “Did you bring me here to assail my virtue with a kiss again?”
She said it in a light, teasing voice, but Edwin’s cheeks colored. “No, I . .
.” He thrust his hands into his trouser pockets and rocked back on his heels like a boy caught stealing sugar from the tea tray. “I’m sorry if my forwardness at the lake offended you.”
“So you brought me here to apologize?”
“No. I mean, yes. I mean, no. Not really. Not entirely. I just . . . wanted to see you again.”
Una smiled at his sudden shyness. Another man she might suspect of artifice, but not Edwin. “You see me every day on the ward.”
“Yes, but then we’re both just playing our prescribed roles.”
Una ignored the aptness of his words, keeping her voice blithe. “And what role are you playing? That of the obsequious intern?”
Edwin’s expression hardened, and she regretted her flippant remark. He slipped his hands from his pockets and tugged down on his suit jacket in the same manner she’d seen the fusty Dr. Pingry do. “Studious, I should think, is a more suitable descriptor. Discerning and duteous. I have my grandfather’s reputation to live up to, after all.”
“And your father’s to live down.”
He frowned and glanced at the lamp he’d placed on a nearby table as if he meant to grab it and leave.
“I don’t mean that as a criticism,” she said. “We’re all trying to live down something.”
Edwin didn’t reply, but he didn’t storm out either. Were Una trying to fleece him, she’d drop the subject. Say something flattering like how well- liked he was among the nursing staff or how clever he sounded during rounds. (When he wasn’t trying to impress Dr. Pingry.) But Una’s aim wasn’t to distract or bemuse him so she could pinch his pocketbook. She felt the same desire he did—to taste again the freeness they’d known at the lake when they hadn’t been trainee and doctor, but simply two people enjoying each other’s company. She crossed the room, lifted herself onto the counter beside him, and sat. It wasn’t the most decorous of perches, but her feet ached after the long day’s work.
“Perhaps being a bit like your father wouldn’t be such a bad thing anyway.”
Edwin crossed his arms and leaned against the counter opposite her. Jars of medicine rattled on the shelf behind him. Clearly this wasn’t the assignation he’d had in mind. “You never met my father.”
“No, but I’ve known lots of men. And women. Alleh meiles in ainem, iz nito bei kainem.”
Edwin gave her a confounded look, and she added, “Just something an old acquaintance said. It means, ‘no one possesses all the virtues.’”
“I’ll say.”
“Your father must have had some qualities you admired.”
He stood brooding for a moment, then ran a hand down his face and sighed. “I guess he . . . he didn’t pretend to be someone he wasn’t. I suppose there’s virtue in that.”
His words landed like a billy club to the gut. Una had spent half her life pretending to be someone or other she wasn’t. But she managed a weak nod.
“What you saw was what you got. Society’s good opinion be damned.” He winced. “Er—pardon my language.”
“I’m sure my delicate ears will recover.”
A fleeting smile cracked his hard expression. “Sometimes I wish . . .” “Wish what?”
“Wish I had the courage to be my own man.” “You don’t want to be a doctor?”
“I do. Very much. But a different sort of physician than my grandfather or Dr. Pingry would have me be. There’s a symposium next month in Philadelphia about Dr. Lister’s principles of aseptic surgery. I—” He stopped and shook his head. “I’m sorry, you don’t want to hear about this.”
“On the contrary, I do.”
He told her more about Lister and his methods. About the symposium and Dr. Pingry’s objections to his attending. His entire countenance enlivened as he spoke, and Una found herself listening intently.
“You simply must attend, then,” she said when he’d finished. “Dr.
Pingry’s good opinion be damned.”
Edwin laughed. “You shouldn’t miss me were I to go?”
“Miss you!” Una feigned a gasp. “That’s rather presumptuous of you, Doctor. I think I should hardly notice you gone.”
He grabbed his chest dramatically. “Ah, Miss Kelly, you’ve struck me with a mortal wound.”
At this, Una found herself laughing too. How easy it was to shed the day’s worries when she was with him. To forget Nurse Hatfield and Traveling Mike and the police—even if just for a moment. How easy, and how dangerous.
He stopped laughing and took a step closer. His hands fidgeted at his sides until he buried them in his trouser pockets again. His gaze was once more skittish. Did he mean to kiss her? She knew better than to permit another such advance. What happened at the lake had been a mistake. A blissful, foolish mistake. One she couldn’t afford to make again. Why, then, did her lips tingle with anticipation?
To both her disappointment and relief, Edwin came no closer. “All jesting aside, Miss Kelly, I’d hoped you might agree to see me again. To let me court you. Privately, of course. I should not want to jeopardize your position at the school.”
Una blinked. A kiss she was prepared for. But this? She slipped off the counter and inched away from him. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Because you’re the most captivating woman I’ve ever met. Witty, kind, high-spirited. You challenge what I say instead of simpering in agreement.”
She continued to slink away until she found herself pinned between the counter and a vat of sharp-smelling liquid. “I’m not those things.”
Edwin chuckled. “See, you’re challenging me even now.” “I can’t,” she said without conviction.
“Is it me you disprove of or the necessity of deception?”
“It’s not you,” she blurted out before good sense got the better of her. “You’re . . . rather captivating yourself. But I . . .”
He took another step toward her, his air of confidence renewed. “Then please, give me an earnest chance. That is, if you could abide keeping such a secret.”
Una’s hands felt suddenly sweaty and her mouth dry, as if she’d been caught red-handed in the middle of a heist. Part of her wanted to distract him with a swift kick to the shin and run. But the larger part of her wanted to shrink the distance between them. Wanted to taste his winter-mint breath. Wanted to be the woman he thought she was.
Two more steps, and he was close enough to kiss her. Una’s body hummed like an electric bulb. Instead of kissing her, though, he took her hand. “Please, say yes, Miss Kelly.”
“Una.”
“Una.” He said it like it were the kind of sweet wine one savored on the tongue before swallowing. “Is that a yes?”
She couldn’t afford more distractions. The coppers’ recent visit had reminded her of that. And everything about Edwin—from his dashing smile and too-perfect teeth, to his warm candor, to his heart-quickening touch— was distracting. Una pulled her hand away and shimmied past him toward the door. “I can’t, Doctor, I’m sorry. I have enough secrets in my life.”
