The Infamous Bride (30 page)

He firmly tamped down his disappointment in the changes Annabel had wrought with Juliet. After all, if she would find a place in society dressed like this, then it was worth losing a bit of color. He consoled himself with the comforting knowledge that he would be able to peel away the drab colors and reveal the true Juliet any time he wished.

* * * * *

The new Juliet did not seem to be accepted any more easily than the old. He had realized there was something wrong the moment they stepped into the room together. All eyes were on Juliet. Though many complimented her on her transformation, there was no sincerity in any of the voices. And no offers to join a socially approved charity board. He was prepared to write a check to help with her effort, but apparently no one wanted his money if it came with Juliet attached.

He wondered if Annabel had known that this new look would be unsuccessful. Would she have deliberately — No. His stepmother had simply erred when she chose the severe hairstyle and the maroon gown of silk and satin that would better have suited Susannah. The color washed out Juliet's pale beauty until she appeared distinctly unwell.

"Good evening, Mrs. Hopkins. May I get you a drink? Some refreshment?" One of his father's business associates had made the offer. R.J. had never seen him smile so widely before.

He looked at his wife, surprised that her new look could still elicit such attention. For the first time, he understood why she was having so much difficulty being accepted in society. No matter that she was now dressed more soberly, her smile still shone brightly.

The gentlemen were drawn to it; the ladies infuriated by it. Poor Juliet. He remembered how he had thought of her that first time. He had not seen beneath the beautiful exterior to the strong and kind heart beneath the flirtatious smile, the ornamental buttons or yards of silk and lace.

Surely there must be some way to bring her into society without stripping her of all that made her Juliet. After all, he thought as he glanced around the room and saw Phineas Abernathy surrounded by his usual coterie of admiring ladies, some charming people had no trouble being accepted. In fact, it appeared that several of the charities were interested in wooing Phineas. Whether for the doctor's charm or his wife's fortune R.J. could not tell.

He wondered if there was some secret that Phineas could whisper to Juliet to help her gain the acceptance she wanted and needed. Although R.J. was certain Phineas had never betrayed his vows to Drusilla, the man was daily given the opportunity.

He took Juliet's elbow. "Come, let us ask an expert how to find you a suitable charity." As he guided Juliet toward the doctor, he heard a woman's voice gushing, "Poor things. How kind of you to take charge so that they are not thrown into the street." To his surprise, he saw that the woman was Susannah.

He frowned at his sister to indicate she should moderate her unseemly emotion, and turned to his friend. "What have you taken charge of now?"

Phineas had the trapped look of a man who did not know how to say no to a needy cause. "Nothing. It is just a temporary appointment."

"You are so modest, Dr. Abernathy." Susannah's cheeks were ruddy with unchecked emotion.

Phineas sighed. "I have merely agreed to run a small orphanage until a new director can be found. Otherwise it would be shut down, and I will not have that."

R.J. frowned warningly at Susannah again before shaking his head at his friend. "How like you."

"It must be a great deal of work to run the orphanage, Dr. Abernathy. Will your regular patients suffer?" The questioner was one of Phineas's well-to-do patients. No doubt her interest was personal.

Juliet ignored the jealous looks the women around Dr. Abernathy as she watched Susannah with trepidation. If any could be said to have her heart in her eyes, it was definitely Susannah. Hoping everyone would put the girl's flush down to indignation over the orphan's dilemma, she asked, "Why have they threatened to close the orphanage?"

"Expense." Abernathy spoke as if the one word said it all. And, in a way, it did.

"I will help you." Susannah stepped forward, practically declaring herself before everyone.

Juliet moved in quickly to cover her importunate offer. "Yes. We must all help." She glanced at R.J., and he gave her a nod of encouragement.

Drusilla Abernathy gazed at her narrowly. "This is not a charity that will bring you the notice from society that you wish, Mrs. Hopkins. Perhaps you should reconsider."

Perhaps she should, but she could not abandon Susannah to near certain scandal and ruin. Juliet improvised quickly. "Parentless children are close to my heart. My own parents died when I was a child. Though my brother and sister did their best to raise us well."

Annabel, with a glance first at her daughter and then at Drusilla, turned to Juliet. "I suppose this could be a beginning of your charity work. You and Susannah could both make your reputations in a small way, before moving to something more responsible."

Did she understand her daughter's feelings? Juliet wasn't certain. "Will you help."

Annabel was not eager to say yes. Her mouth pinched tightly. "I shall teach you how to organize teas and benefits. Susannah may begin to use all the training she has acquired over the last year. But I cannot spare more time than that."

"Thank you, Mama Annabel." Juliet hated calling her that insipid name. She hated even more having to thank the woman. But for once the idea was good. She could hardly be accused of flirting while doing good deeds. And she had begun to feel as if she were one of Annabel's birds, clipped wings and all.

She imagined how proud R.J. would be of her for embracing hard work in a good cause as she smiled at the doctor. "I would like to make an appointment to speak with you about what you need for the orphanage." She thought of the frightened, parentless children who might now lose their only home because they cost too much to feed and clothe.

"Tomorrow would not be too soon." Dr. Abernathy returned her smile gratefully. "You are a godsend, Mrs. Hopkins."

Susannah shot Juliet a jealous look. "I will be there as well, Dr. Abernathy."

"Your aid will be welcome," the doctor said gently, with a distant air.

Breaking his silence, R.J. launched into a series of questions about the business end of things and she felt her husband slip away again, replaced by the practical businessman.

Juliet suppressed a sigh as he began a discussion with Dr. Abernathy about the finances of the orphanage. Did he see this as a sign that it was time to establish a home of their own? She did not think Jonathan Hopkins would easily agree.

Would R.J. put his foot down and insist his father give him the management duties he had promised him if Juliet were to find herself expecting a child? Would the man she had fallen in love with, and now saw little of in the daylight, show himself when he looked at a child of his own?

Valentine and Emily glowed when they looked at their own offspring, even when the little devils were covered with grass and mud.

Perhaps that would be the key to unlocking the true heart of Romeo that was caged deep within the perennially sensible R.J. Hopkins? A son. Better yet, a daughter with her father's dark hair and her mother's laughter. He could not ignore a child of his own as he ignored his wife. Or could he?

Her own father had often been away from home. He had spent most of his time when he was home with Valentine. His daughters he had had little part of except to name and to discipline.

He had called Juliet his little beauty. But those were almost the only words he ever spoke to her when she would be brought down to greet him when he was home.

No. Somehow she must convince R.J. that he needed to find time for her. For the family they both wanted. She wondered if it would bring them closer if she were to confess her worries about Susannah's misplaced affections? He had kept Susannah from her company for fear of her influence when they first met. Perhaps, if she told him what she suspected, he might find a way to blame her.

No. She would not tell him unless she could not divert Susannah from her perilous course.

* * * * *

She had not realized what an orphanage was, not really. She had imagined small, clean faces, neatly brushed hair, well-fed, smiling faces. Not this. Not this dark place with its shadows and drafts.

"Might I show you around, then, Mrs. Hopkins?"

Dr. Abernathy smiled at her, but she knew that he had somehow sensed her shift in mood. He seemed almost predatory in his attention, watching with a hawk's keen eye instead of the flirtatious appreciation he had shown her before. Did he sense that she suspected Susannah was sneaking away to see him, instead of filling her afternoons with lessons in being a young woman of refinement? What would he do if he did? Such an affair would be a scandal far worse than any she and R.J. had created. Both of them would be ruined.

"That would be very kind of you." She had hoped for a nurse or some maidservant to do that honor. She could not snoop around for signs of Susannah's deception so that she could confront the girl with it and stop the pair's foolishness if he were watching her so closely. "Are you certain that you have the time? I imagine you must be very busy here. You are the only doctor on the premises, are you not?"

"My apprentice is here this afternoon, as well, never fear." His smile did not dismiss the dark shadows in his eyes. "I have made my rounds, and there are no pressing matters waiting for me." He glanced behind her. "Annabel and Susannah did not accompany you?" He did not manage the casual air he attempted.

"No. Annabel is needed at home, and Susannah is at her afternoon music lesson — " She waited to see if he would reveal any guilt to confirm her suspicion that Susannah was here rather than at her lesson.

"Good." There was unmitigated relief in his face, but no guilt.

Juliet wondered if she had been mistaken. Perhaps the doctor had not encouraged Susannah at all. She said quickly. "She is young. She will — "

He interrupted with a brisk nod. "Of course she will."

For some reason, though they had said very little about the matter, Juliet relaxed as he took her through the wards. Through the kitchen with a temperamental stove belching smoke into the air. Through the laundry, where children labored, faces red from the steaming water used to wash linens and the dull institutional clothing that appeared to be standard-dove gray for boys, a washed-out blue for the girls.

Juliet wondered if they longed for brightly colored clothing just as she did now that she must be satisfied with a matronly wardrobe of sober colors. She saw no sign of Susannah. Once she glimpsed Dr. Abernathy's apprentice dispensing medicine from a large brown bottle to a line of feverish children. He seemed a slight man, and when she would have gone to greet him, Dr. Abernathy took her arm and led her away, saying only, "I would not have you bringing illness into your home in return for your generous help."

She found it easy to talk with him, to discover the needs of the orphanage as she followed him around. Her notebook rapidly filled as she traveled from room to room. The institution lacked everything from furniture to linens. She could see why he spoke of the need with urgency.

What affected her most was the nursery. Babies lay in their cribs, crying. No one rushed to pick them up. No one even seemed to notice their cries, though the sound was enough to break a dozen mothers' hearts.

"They'll cry themselves to sleep soon enough," the single frazzled nurse told her.

But Juliet could not bear it. She lifted one child from his crib and began to sing her favorite lullaby as she rubbed her finger along his smooth cheek.

All the babies slowly silenced. When the nursery was blessedly quiet, Juliet put the sleeping baby down gently so that he would not awake. Looking into the cribs of slumbering infants, she was filled with a desire to hold a child of her own. A child born of that wild and deep passion that she and R.J. shared.

Phineas Abernathy, who had been called away to attend to a sick child, came to collect her from the nursery. He paused a moment, a look of puzzlement on his face. He peeked into a crib and then methodically checked each one. He glanced at the sleeping babies and murmured, "You are a miracle worker."

"Nonsense," she said briskly, to shake away the desire to defy R.J.'s father and shut herself in her husband's office with him until they had done their best to make a child. "I have been singing babies to sleep for years. My nephews are very fond of my voice, and their mother is even happier when I put them down for their naps."

He smiled, and the exhaustion in his face tempered for a moment. "You can see the need we have is great."

"Yes, indeed I do."

"Whatever help you can give would be wonderful."

He smiled as he stood and held out his hand to her in dismissal.

"I shall return tomorrow, then."

He straightened and grew immediately wary. "Return? Is there more than you wish to see before you make a donation?"

"You need more than money here, Dr. Abernathy. You need willing hands. At least until you have the funds to hire adequate staff."

"You are offering to ... to work here?" His voice had a horrified undertone, but there was a spark of admiration in his eyes.

She smiled, thinking of the lessons she had given her sisters and Betsey in the schoolroom. They had only been four students. Here were five times more. Could she do it? She smiled at Dr. Abernathy and said with confidence, "Of course."

"The work is not easy."

She raised her brow at him, tilting her head at the children sweeping the carpet outside in the hallway. "Is it any easier for the children?"

His smile chased away the exhaustion in his features for a moment. "Welcome to the Wellburn Orphanage, Mrs. Hopkins." And then he frowned. "Perhaps you might want to make certain that your husband does not object."

Juliet looked at him coolly. She did not like the thought that R.J. could tell her what to do, but it was a reality that all married women must accept sooner or later. She sighed. "Surely you know my husband better than to believe he will object to my putting myself to good use."