Excerpt
 New
York City—1884
Our
footsteps echoed up through the stairwell. We rounded the landing, and went
up another set of stairs that opened onto long and narrow hallway with doors
lining either side. The stairs continued on, but my husband took me down the
hallway, to a door at the very end. On it was painted in restrained black and
gilt letters: Dr. Victor Seth,
Doctor of Neurology.
I hung back and whispered, "Do let's go, William. We could be home in
time for tea."
He grasped my hand hard, and opened the door. We stepped into another dingy
room, where there was a small desk next to another door, and an old rosewood
settee against the opposite wall, its red-striped floral upholstery frayed at
the corners. There was no one there.
William cleared his throat, and stepped forward to knock on the other door,
when it suddenly opened, and out came a flustered young woman with pale hair
and eyes. "I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't mean to be in there, I
only--" She saw us, and stopped mid-motion, blushing and obviously
confused. "Oh ... You're not the doctor!"
"No," William told her. "We have an appointment with Dr.
Seth."
"Oh, well ... yes." The girl went behind the desk, and fumbled with
a thin book that lay open on the blotter. It seemed to compose her. She
smoothed her dark wool skirt. "Of course. I--I see it right here."
She looked up with an expectant smile.
William reached inside his coat and pulled out his pocket watch. "I
believe we're right on time."
She glanced down at the book. "Oh yes, you are. But ... um, well, the
doctor ... he's not here yet."
"He's not here?"
"Well then," I said, backing toward the door, "perhaps another
time--"
William held me firm. "We have an appointment."
"He--he had an unexpected visitor," the girl said. "I expect
him back shortly."
"This is unconscionable," William said. "I am a very busy
man--"
"Yes, of course you are."
The voice came from behind us. Startled, I jerked around to see a man wearing
a heavy coat and hat that shone wetly in the light. The doctor. He had opened
the door without making a sound. It was impossible that we had not heard him.
He smiled smoothly as he pulled at his gloves. "Forgive me for making
you wait. I was unavoidably detained." He glanced at the girl behind the
desk, who shrank visibly at the sight of him. "Irene, perhaps you could
make yourself useful and find some tea for our visitors."
"Yes, Doctor," she murmured.
He went to the other door and opened it, and then stood back to usher us
inside. I had expected William to continue to be angry, but he was
uncharacteristically quiet, caught--no doubt as I was--by the presence of
this man. I remembered the other night, the dinner, my sense that I should
have felt him the moment I stepped into Ella's dining room, and that feeling
was more intense here, in this little office. It was unsettling, the way he
took up space, as if something had entered the room with him, something large
and intangible.
Wordlessly, William and I preceded him through the doorway.
The room was darkened. Though the opposite wall was windows, all but one were
covered by lowered blinds; the single open one looked out onto the brick wall
of the building next door, at Coxley's
Cigars, Pipes and Tobacco painted there in large black and white
letters.
There was a click, and the room went suddenly bright, electric lamps blazing
into sudden brilliance. I blinked, and gasped, used as I was to gaslight.
"You see, we have the most modern conveniences," said the doctor.
William murmured something, but I could not take my eyes from the room. The
falsely bright light illuminated it to its worst advantage. It brought into
relief the large table near the window scattered with papers and open books.
Behind it were shelves full of messily arranged books--shoved side by side,
laying erratically one on top the other. The only neat shelf was tightly
packed with thin black leather-bound volumes bookended with a large white
phrenology head.
There was a settee that matched the one in the hallway, two chairs
upholstered in a bright red brocade, and a ladderback chair that sat next to
a large, wooden cabinet with several drawers. Near this was a long
examination table.
It was these--the cabinet and the table--which made me most nervous: the
cabinet, because I had no idea what it was, and the table because I did. I
glanced at William, who was frowning.
He turned to the doctor and said, "You are a phrenologist."
Dr. Seth was taking off his coat and hat. Though he spoke to William, his
gaze went to me. "No more than any other self-respecting physician. The
head is merely a personal reminder. Nothing to worry about."
He smiled, and I found myself transfixed, uncertain whether to be charmed or afraid.
"May I take your coats?" Dr. Seth asked.
William took his off, but I shook my head and grasped the front of mine,
suddenly wanting the protection of it. Dr. Seth only nodded mildly and
gestured to the settee with an instruction for us to sit down. I did not want
to do that, either, but these choices were not mine to make, so I went with
William to the settee while Dr. Seth took one of the red brocade chairs
across.
Just then, there was a timid knock on the door, and the girl—Irene--came in
bearing a tea tray with service for three. She set it silently on the table
beside the doctor's chair, and then left.
When the door closed, the doctor looked at me again. "You seem nervous,
Mrs. Carelton. Perhaps some tea will reassure you."
William laughed shortly. "Lucy's nerves are the reason we're here to see
you, Dr. Seth."
The doctor poured the tea with careful precision, added milk and sugar, and
handed us each a gaily painted china cup. The rims were thick; the edges
uneven, but the tea was hot and sweet and soothing--he had made it as I liked
it, though I had not said a word.
"I have the feeling we've met before, Mrs. Carelton," he said.
"The other night, at the Baldwins' supper," William told him.
"We had not been introduced then, but you must have seen Lucy's
fit."
Seth straightened. His glance sharpened as it had that night. "Ah, yes,
of course," he said, and I heard a brief impatience in his tone that
surprised me. "I assume that is why you're here, but why don't you tell
me the whole of it?"
William said, "First, Dr. Seth, we need some reassurances. You've been
highly recommended to us, but ... well, you must see our situation."
"Of course." Dr. Seth nodded. "I can assure you of the
strictest discretion, Mr. and Mrs. Carelton. As you saw, this office is
deliberately situated to afford you the greatest privacy. I can promise that,
should you decide to undergo treatment, my notes will be destroyed at the
conclusion. Though Irene seems an idiot, she is highly motivated not to speak
of your visit. I guarantee that no one will know you were ever here unless
you tell them yourself."
The doctor sat back in his chair, his long fingers wrapped delicately around
that thick cup as if he were afraid he might
crush it. He looked directly at me. "Now ... Why have you come to
me?"
William said, "We've been to ten doctors in the last three years. No
one's been able to help. You're our last hope."
I felt the doctor's dark eyes on me. There was something improper or ...
dangerous ... in the way he stared. My fingers shook as I brought my cup to
my lips; I dared not look up.
William went on. "It's become unbearable living with her. We haven't
been able to keep a maid longer than two months. Lucy's fits terrorize the
household. She has temper tantrums, screaming hysteria--the smallest things
turn her into a mad creature. When she's not having a fit, she's sad and
inconsolable. She's barely able to rise from bed. I've despaired of
her--having anyone over for dinner is impossible, and in my business, it's
necessary."
"I see," Dr. Seth said, finally looking at William. "What is
your business?"
My husband looked surprised. "You don't know?"
"I confess not."
"Yes. Well." William looked discomfited. "Brokering. I'm a
stock broker."
Seth nodded. "Go on."
"Well, I ... last night, Lucy took too much laudanum. It's really
become--"
"Laudanum? Who prescribed laudanum?"
"Dr. Moore. About a year ago."
The doctor looked at me. "How much do you take?"
"J--just a bit," I managed. "A few spoonfuls at bedtime. It
... it helps me sleep."
"Tell him when else, Lucy," William said.
"There is no other time."
William gave the doctor a look as if to say: Do you see what I must contend with? and I looked down at my
tea, humiliated at my small lie.
Thankfully, Dr. Seth did not pursue it. "What have the other doctors
said?"
William sighed. "Well.... We've been--" he cleared his
throat--"I'm sorry, this is indelicate--"
"I'm a doctor, Mr. Carelton."
"Yes, of course. It's just that ... well, Lucy has been ... unable to
conceive."
"And other doctors have attributed her moods to Uterine Monomania?"
"Why, yes, that's just what they've said--some of them, anyway. We've
tried everything. She took the water-cure a year ago, and then there was some kind of belt contraption that she had to
wear. The one doctor thought an ovariotomy. Recently, one suggested she was
incurable. He said I should send her to an asylum. An asylum!"
"Has anyone suggested a clitoridectomy?"
I went hot. I could not look at either of them.
"One. But Lucy ... she's not ... not in that way ... it's just ... well,
except for this hysteria, she's the perfect wife." William finished
lamely.
There was silence. I glanced up, into the eyes of the doctor, which so
agitated me that I looked down again into my tea, which was sloshing in my
cup, so badly were my hands shaking.
Dr. Seth said, "I think I understand, Mr. Carelton. Now, if you will
excuse us, I'd like to examine your wife. Irene will find you a newspaper to
read, if you like."
"Of course." William rose abruptly. He set aside his cup and patted
my shoulder and left. The door latched shut behind him.
Dr. Seth leaned forward; I pressed back into the cushioned settee when he reached out.
"Your teacup, Mrs. Carelton," he said. When I gave it to him,
careful not to touch him, he set the cup gently onto the tea tray, much as a
woman might. I had never seen a man move so gracefully.
"The examination is simple enough," he said reassuringly. "I
trust you've experienced one before?"
I could only nod.
"I will try not to embarrass you unduly. But you understand, I do need
to know
these things to treat you
effectively."
His gaze did not waver. I felt oddly imprisoned by it.
"I understand," I managed.
"Good." He went to the door and called out for the girl, who came
hurrying in, and then he said, "Irene will assist you. Please undress to
your chemise. There's a screen just over there--" he pointed to a place
beyond the wooden cabinet and chairs, where I now saw a red and black
lacquered Japanese screen.
He rose and went to the table that served as his desk, turning his back to
me, and I slowly went behind the screen and let Irene help me. When I was
ready, she gave me a small smile and left again. I crossed my arms protectively
over my chest when I came out from behind the screen, clad only in my
chemise. He was waiting by the table, his suitcoat off, his shirtsleeves
rolled up to reveal his bare forearms. The sight of that, along with the
tangle of shining instruments gleaming beside him, made me hesitate, but he
gave me a reassuring nod and gestured to the examination table.
"Please," he said, and as I stepped onto a small stool and sat
gingerly on the edge of the table, he took up the first of his instruments.
An Inconvenient Wife
Also available as an E-Book
Grand
Central Publishing
ISBN 0-446-52956-7
ISBN: 0-446-69486-x (trade paper)
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Copyright 2007 Megan Chance
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