And made her way, evidently, to the Napa Valley. “I have seen many patients with such delusions,” Johanna said.
“And sometimes it is difficult to tell where delusion ends and reality begins. But May has been without a parent for two years. There is a certain fear that she might inherit her mother’s madness, due to her tendency toward hysteria—”
“May is not mad.” Johanna gathered her feet under her and thought better of it. Be calm. Do not let him see your anger. He must believe you his ally, not his enemy. “She has not suffered an hysterical episode for a year.”
“If she is cured of hysteria, Mr. Ingram and I have you to thank.”
“Perhaps. But she still suffers from extreme shyness and a fear of the outside world, particularly men. You propose to take her from the Haven at a very critical time.”
Bolkonsky nodded with obvious sympathy. “I would prefer to leave her in your care and make the transition very slowly, but Mr. Ingram is eager to be reunited with the daughter he’d thought lost. I anticipated the awkwardness of this, and asked that we continue in consultation with you, and with all due caution, so as not to upset May unduly. Mr. Ingram has agreed.”
Johanna bit the inside of her lip. In spite of Bolkonsky’s mild words, she had no doubt that he meant what he said. A parent had legal rights to his child that she, as a doctor, did not.
Johanna had never known how Mrs. Ingram had heard of the Haven, then so newly founded in the Valley, or why she’d given a strange doctor so much trust. But Johanna had been determined not to betray that trust.
If even half of what Johanna suspected were true, she dared not allow May to go back to her father.
There was the chance, however slight, that she was wrong, and Mrs. Ingram was truly unstable. Johanna hadn’t had time to assess the woman’s condition properly. She’d taken action based upon her own experience of similar cases over the years—upon that, and May’s hysterical state.
She had no facts, only supposition. Bolkonsky believed Mr. Ingram—or so he said. Only yesterday she’d judged the foreign doctor of sound mind and good heart, but her opinion of him had sunk considerably in twenty-four hours. Her previous trust was out of the question.
That was grounds enough to proceed with extreme caution.
“I am glad to hear that Mr. Ingram recognizes the necessity of moving slowly, for May’s sake,” she said. “She has come to regard the Haven as her home. She will not do well if she is forced to leave abruptly.”
“Quite understandable.” Feodor had returned to his former elegant poise, leaving Johanna no doubt as to his confidence. “Between the two of us, I’m certain that we can achieve this in the best way possible.” He reached for Johanna’s hands. “Together, Johanna. You and I will work together to help May and reunite her with her loving father. I shall consider it a privilege.”
Johanna withdrew her hand before he could make contact. “I think that it might be best if you come to the Haven to visit May before we proceed further. I feel certain that when you see her, you will—”
“That will not be advisable. As you said, the Haven has been her home for two years. Neutral ground would be better. I suggest that you bring May to me here at the hotel. I have large and comfortable rooms that can serve for any examination or necessary treatment.”
Johanna gazed at him through narrowed eyes. He was prevaricating. May would be better off being evaluated at the Haven, but Johanna sensed that Bolkonsky did not wish to visit her home for reasons of his own. Still, this was not the time to raise objections. She must save her ammunition, and buy time.
“I will need to prepare her for coming into town. In a week—”
“I’m afraid her father will not be content to wait so long. He is exerting a certain pressure upon me to act promptly. It must be tomorrow.”
Such coercion explained Bolkonsky’s earlier signs of anger. No doubt he disliked being pressured by a client; he was a man who expected to get his own way. How foolish she’d been to be dazzled by him.