A Wicked Conceit (Lady Darby Mysteries #9) - Anna Lee Huber Page 0,140

lightly on my waist, his fingers brushing over the silk of my dressing gown. “I don’t know what to say.”

I draped my arms around his neck, combing my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “How about the truth.” I smiled ruefully. “After all, at this point, you have nothing to lose.”

His gaze dipped to the hollow of my throat. “I suppose you’re right. I can’t continue as we have. And if he can’t be honest with me, then there’s really nothing more to say.”

“You need to inform him of his granddaughter’s birth anyway,” I said, thinking this might provide him the impetus to start.

He nodded woodenly. “He’ll be pleased we named her Emma.”

I suspected that was true, but I also couldn’t help wondering whether he would be displeased she hadn’t been a boy, another heir to his lineage and title. It was just the sort of thing Lord Gage would decide to take exception to, another tally point on his long list of my faults. Just because we’d seemed to turn a corner in our relationship when last we were with him did not mean he accepted or approved of me.

Gage’s eyes lifted to meet mine, warming at the affection I knew he would see reflected there. “I’ll write tomorrow.” His mouth took on a roguish tilt as he pulled me closer. “But for tonight . . .” He exhaled a weary breath. “How about we sleep?”

I laughed softly, the same fatigue dragging at my bones. No one had ever said that parenthood was for the well rested. “That sounds . . . heavenly.”

He smiled and then pressed his lips to mine, kissing me long and deep. But just as we both turned to crawl beneath the covers, a tiny cry sounded from the cradle. My head dropped forward in defeat.

He touched my hand gently. “I’ll get her.”

I smiled at him in gratitude before lowering my head to my pillow. I decided I’d never loved him more.

As my eyes drifted shut, I briefly wondered if the events surrounding Emma’s birth would be the end to our misadventures, but as always, time would only tell. Given our history, I wouldn’t have wagered on it. And while I silently resolved that Charlotte and Rye’s wedding should be peaceful and merry, I had learned long ago that such things were rarely in my control. Even when it came to matters of art.

Historical Note

So first up, let’s address the elephant in the room—the cholera pandemic. Prior to the 1820s, cholera had largely been confined to the Indian subcontinent. But beginning in that decade, it started to spread, first along trade routes and then farther afield. In December 1831, it reached Britain, despite a mandatory quarantine placed on ships and their crews arriving from ports in afflicted areas. It quickly spread north and south and continued to advance around the globe.

Britain would experience multiple outbreaks of cholera throughout the nineteenth century until they finally addressed the underlying causes of the spread of the disease. But in 1831–1832, the majority of physicians believed people were infected by either something they ate or a miasma.

For decades before the actual bacteria which causes cholera reached Britain, people used the term loosely to describe anything that gave them digestive problems and loose stools. This was why when cholera actually struck, the medical community persisted in linking it to something ingested, whether it was rotten food, a mineral poison, or a bad combination of items. Intemperance was also linked to it in this way, and for other reasons.

Miasma theory was the predominant medical theory by the brightest minds of the age to explain how diseases spread. The belief was that bad, noxious air emanating from things like rotting corpses, marshy land areas, and other putrid matter actually exhaled vapors which caused people to fall ill. This “influence in the atmosphere” was also believed to afflict those who had weakened themselves by exposure to certain behaviors, places, or “exciting causes.” In this way, they promoted the idea that only people of “irregular habits” should fear diseases like cholera. So as long as you were good, clean, and temperate, you could escape the scourge.

Thus, it wasn’t difficult to see how the concept of contagion was confused and correlated with religion, piety, sin, and the idea that cholera was God’s punishment for certain people’s intemperance and immorality. Multiple pamphlets from the time period rail against people’s sinful natures and call on the government to make changes to the laws