‘Would you mind telling me why you didn’t inform me of this?’
He sounded so controlled, so very calm, that she said honestly, ‘I was afraid that he would hurt you.’
He went rigid.
Jules didn’t notice. She was trying desperately to control the pain. ‘I knew he couldn’t
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hurt me – there were so many men about on the street. But I thought if I told you, you would go after him. You’re so honorable, but he’s a snake. I couldn’t bear it if he hurt you.’ ‘Jules, look at me.’
‘Yes,’ she said, his face clear before her eyes.
‘Do I look like a fool, an idiot? Do I look like a man who could be hurt?’
‘He would hire people! He would –
‘I think you’d best be quiet now. God in heaven, I don’t believe this!’
Saint rose, ripped off his black cloak, and hurled it to the floor. He was so furious he couldn’t think straight. He forced himself to take slow, deep breaths. ‘Jules,’ he said, very calmly now, ‘I am your husband. You are my responsibility. If you don’t trust me to take care of you, you reduce me to nothing. Do you understand me?’
‘No,’ she managed, then cried out softly. ‘Oh damn,’he said, angry with himself now for upsetting her. Some doctor you are, idiot! He sat down beside her and gently probed the lump behind her ear.
‘I don’t want to cry,’ she gasped, but her head felt like a melon being battered against the ground. Tears seeped from the corners of her tightly closed eyes. Saint wanted to find Wilkes and kill him. But he couldn’t leave
her. He cursed again very softly, pulled off his boots, and eased into bed beside her. ‘Come here against me,’ he said. ‘In a little while I can give you something for the pain. But not yet, sweetheart. I’m sorry, but I can’t take the chance.’The chance she’d never wake up.
He could feel the waves of pain each time she tensed. Very quietly, his voice soothing and low, he started to speak. ‘Did I ever tell you about the Siamese twins I saw born in Boston? They were male, and attached from their waists to their knees.’ No, no, he thought frantically. That story had a ghastly ending. ‘They lived happily ever after. But there was this man, way back in the fifth century. Actually, he was the Emperor Justinian, and his wife was the Empress Theodora. Interestingly enough, the empress had been a prostitute before she married Justinian and won a crown. In any case, the both of them wanted to eradicate prostitution. Her way didn’t work, of course, but it was quite an interesting approach.’ Saint paused a moment, and Jules said in a sleepy voice, ‘Yes? Go on, Michael. What did she do?’
He smiled slightly, and continued, ‘Well, what she did was to build a beautiful palace-prison, and she had five hundred prostitutes taken there. They were treated
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very well. In fact, they could have whatever they wanted, with the exception of one thing: no men allowed. It is said that most of the women committed suicide in their despair, and the remainder soon died of boredom and vexation.’
He heard her giggle. She said in a blurred voice, ‘Vexation? I love you, Michael, but I think you made that up.’
He swallowed, unable to think of anything to say. She didn’t know, didn’t realize, what she’d said. ‘I didn’t make it up,’ he said.
She didn’t answer. She was asleep.
‘It was vexation. I know the feeling well,’ he said, and kissed her very lightly on the cheek.
He woke her during the night, forced her to tell him who she was, who he was, and how many fingers he was holding up. At last, early the next morning, he gave her some laudanum in a glass of water, and watched her fall into a deep, healing sleep.
Thomas was waiting for him downstairs, still dressed as a pirate, pacing furiously. He was so angry he couldn’t speak, and Saint, after reassuring him for the tenth time, sent him to bed.
Lydia was furious and appalled, and Saint