Excerpt from An Inconvenient Wife, by Megan Chance

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.

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