Becoming Jane

Chapter 13

“Michael is the one who suffered for my idiocy,” Harrison replied glumly.

“It was not idiocy. You made a perfectly logical diagnosis based on the facts at hand. You had both consumed food that made you ill, thus you believed his symptoms to be as a result of food poisoning. You mustn’t torture yourself with this. You did not make a mistake. Once you realised that the food poisoning was not the cause of his pain, you appropriately prepared for surgery. It was just a terrible shame that Michael could not be saved. Not everyone can be saved.”

Harrison knew that Little J spoke sense, but it did not diminish his guilt. He did honestly believe that food poisoning was the culprit.  

He looked down to their hands again and saw the red that always haunted him. It was blood. The blood that would not wash off. Although for the first time in a long time the blood was not so red. It was more like a tinge.

“Look at me,” she said firmly.

His eyes found her blue ones instantly. Her pink lips were pursed as her eyebrows rose a fraction. She appeared to be trying to convince him.

“You are not at fault,” she said slowly. “If you had realised he had a ruptured appendix and then deliberately decided not to operate then you would be at fault. You did everything you were trained to do. You made a decision based on the symptoms at hand. What happened to Michael was a tragedy. My cousin Sabine’s mother died after given birth to her from Eclampsia. My uncle blamed himself for years but he eventually conceded that there was nothing he could have done to save Lady Eleanor.”

Harrison appreciated her effort. She was trying to make him feel better. “What made him concede his guilt?” he wondered. Perhaps he could follow suit.

Little J smiled coyly. “He listened to a wise woman,” she replied simply. “And then he promptly married her.”

Harrison managed a small smile for her. “And where might I find one of these women?” he asked, realising how forward he sounded. He’d already behaved far too brazenly. She was a fine lady, after all. Her father was a wealthy gentleman. He was just a simple doctor from a small village in Hertfordshire.   

“God works in mysterious ways, Doctor Gray. You mightn’t believe in him but I do. I believe he gives us nothing more than we can handle. He might have already brought her to you, or perhaps you’ve yet to meet her,” she said, smiling.

He didn’t know what to say to her. Less than an hour ago she said she had no interest in courting him. Were women really this complicated? Could he really entertain the thought that Little J actually fancied him?

“Perhaps you are right,” he replied after a moment. “How do you know exactly what to say?”

“I read a lot,” she commented, continuing on to her food. “I know what you are thinking – ‘women should not worry themselves with education’ – but I enjoy it.”

An ignorant thought. “I was not thinking that at all,” he retorted instantly. “In fact it’s refreshing to meet a woman who can speak her own mind and know what they’re talking about. Usually women just concern themselves with dress fabrics and jewel quality.” He didn’t know that, he only presumed that’s what most women talked about.