Page 29 of The Lovers
Elise felt a momentary panic. She didn’t want to lie, but if she told the woman she was wed, the midwife might think it a sin against God to try to prevent conception.
“No, not yet,” Elise fibbed.
“I see.”
Elise cringed inwardly. She just proclaimed herself to be a fornicator, probably a worse sin than not wanting to get with child. “I’m not… W-well, that is,” Elise stuttered.
“It don’t matter to me, love. ’Tis not my place to judge. I’ve seen it all by now, and let me tell ye, it isn’t always pretty or proper. There are some decoctions that women swear by, but I myself don’t believe them to be effective. Sooner or later, they all fall pregnant anyhow.”
“Is there nothing?”
“There is something ye can do. It works for some, but nothing is guaranteed, save keeping your legs crossed. Find some thick cloth and cut it into small bits, ’bout this size,” she said, holding her thumb and pointer about two inches apart. “Dip a piece in vinegar before yer man comes to ye and insert it as deep as ye can into yer quim.”
“How would that prevent me getting with child?” Elise asked, curious.
“The thick fabric blocks the seed from spilling into yer womb, and the vinegar kills its potency. It don’t always work, mind, but ’tis better than nothing. Just make sure to remove the cloth after ye’ve used it or it’ll begin to fester inside ye.”
“Are there ways to get rid of a babe should the need arise?” she asked carefully.
“There are, but I’m not one who’ll tell ye about them. ’Tis a sin against God to do away with a child. I’m a midwife; my calling is to bring new life into the world, not snuff it out.” She didn’t sound angry, but Elise could see that Nan felt strongly and didn’t persist.
Elise took a coin out of the pocket of her cloak and laid it on the table. “I thank you for your advice.”
Old Nan inclined her head and pocketed the coin. “God be with ye,” she said as she let Elise out into the street.
“And you.”
NINETEEN
NOVEMBER 2013
London, England
Quinn looked around as she was ushered into Rhys Morgan’s office. She’d expected it to be more posh, for some reason, but the room, although well-proportioned and with an excellent view, was a bit Spartan and almost completely devoid of color. One wall was painted a muted shade of blue and displayed several photographs and award certificates, but the rest of the office was done up in dove gray and chrome. Rhys was wearing a charcoal-gray jumper, black jeans, and a pair of beat-up leather boots. He looked trendy and comfortable as he tapped away on his keyboard. He glanced up as Quinn walked in, closed the laptop, and smiled in greeting.
“Dr. Allenby, do come in. Deborah, an espresso for our guest, please, and one for me as well,” Rhys called to the departing assistant. “Please, make yourself comfortable. First and foremost, I’d like to apologize for the way I behaved the last time we met. I tend to get a little dogged when it comes to a new project, but I am very happy that you’ve accepted our offer of headlining the program. Deborah will provide you with a copy of the contract and all the other necessary paperwork.”
“No apology necessary,” Quinn replied, although she felt a little wary of his good mood. “It was only natural that you should wish to know more about my methods before offering me the job.”
“Truth be told, I never considered anyone else. You were my first choice, especially after Gabriel Russell’s glowingrecommendation. He will act as a consultant on the program. I trust you don’t object.”
“Of course not. Gabriel has been my mentor since I was a student. I welcome his input.”
“Excellent. I won’t rush you to complete your investigation, but I would like to hear all about your progress to date.” He leaned back in his chair, his face suffused with ill-concealed expectation.
“So, no pressure, then?” Quinn chuckled as she pulled a file out of the briefcase.
“None.”
Quinn accepted an espresso from Deborah, who looked less than pleased to be treated like a waitress, and went on to fill in Rhys on the findings of Dr. Scott before moving on to her own conclusions. “Based on the fibers and bits of leather found with the skeletons as well as the style of buckles and jewelry, I would say that our victims lived in the mid-to late-seventeenth century. I can’t say for certain what the man’s position might have been, but the woman was definitely not a servant. She wore a gown made of fine fabric, which was ornamented by this lovely brooch.” Quinn passed Rhys a picture of the brooch. She hadn’t brought the original with her for fear of having an unwelcome flashback if she had to handle it in front of him. All the samples recovered from the chest were securely stored at her office at the institute, except for the brooch and belt buckle, which Gabe had entrusted to her.
“There was also an earring found. It was consistent with something a lady of means would wear.” Quinn slid a picture of the earring across the desk.
Rhys studied the pictures with interest before turning back to Quinn. “Do we have any theories as to who she might have been?”
“During the late-seventeenth century, the area now known as Mayfair was sparsely populated. The houses belonged mostly to wealthy nobles who needed land to build great manor houses but still wished to remain close to Whitehall Palace. The population of Mayfair grew exponentially in the eighteenth century, but we believe that the skeletons date back to the original occupants. The first house built on that site belonged to one Lord Asher. He was one of the men instrumental in bringing Charles II back to England and served on the Privy Council until his death in 1699. Asher was a great favorite of Charles II and was mentioned in several documents from the period.”
“Could the woman have been his wife?” Rhys asked, now clearly intrigued with the picture Quinn was painting.
