Evan smiles with satisfaction and releases her ear. Hearing that there's nothing between her and Charles has instantly improved his mood. He strokes her earlobe with his fingers, satisfied that he's found a new and effective way of making her tell the truth.
It turns out her ears are incredibly sensitive, and he feels as if he's just discovered a valuable secret. As he kneads her earlobe, he watches her face flush a gorgeous color. She probably has no idea how enticing she looks. Her tempting rosy complexion makes him almost erect, and his lips feel dry.
He regrets that he spent the last three and a half years thinking of her as a reproductive tool forced on him by his grandfather. He was so rebellious that he refused to touch or even look at her. Throughout that time she was as meek and docile as a sheep and he barely took note of her existence.
Then a few nights ago she stood barefoot on the dining table and defiantly demanded a divorce. She was like a small female leopard exposing sharp claws for the first time, captivating him. From that moment, he found himself overwhelmed by the urge to touch and hold her.
As he gazes at her flushed face, he reminds himself that she's still sick. He's afraid that if he doesn't let her go soon, he'll be unable to stop himself from having sex with her. He worries that he'll hurt her, and it's the first time that he's been concerned about the feelings of a woman.
The warm water steams as it pours over their heads and catches the light like luminous diamonds. Avery pushes him away and says in a harsh tone, "Go away! I'll shower myself."
Evan doesn't object. He releases her and grabs a towel, rubbing his hair dry as he leaves the bathroom. Avery doesn't know if it's because she's still ill or if it's because she's in a confined space, but she feels suffocated and claustrophobic. Her discomfort eases as Evan leaves.
She quickly strips off her clothes and lowers herself into the tub. As the warm water enwraps her frozen body she utters an indescribable sigh of relief.
In the other room, Evan wraps himself in a robe and heads to the study. Robert follows him, carrying a small plastic bag which he puts on the desk.
"Mr. Howel, Dr. Walter said this is for you."
Evan glances at the bag. It contains a small box labeled "folic acid." Dr. Walter has prescribed the supplement to help Avery prepare for pregnancy. Suddenly recalling medicine, Evan takes a small brown bottle from his pocket and pinches it between his fingers. He can faintly see a special mark used by the Meyer family on the brown glass.
"Is Dr. Walter still here?" he asks.
"He left just now. Shall I get him to come back?"
Evan nods and Robert runs from the room to chase down Dr. Walter. Upon entering the study, he sees Evan is staring at a delicate glass bottle which looks different from the average pill bottle. Though the glass is tinted it becomes transparent and clear under the light as if it were a work of art.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Howel?" Dr. Walter asks.
"Contact the director of St. Meyer Hospital to arrange for a medical examination for Avery tomorrow."
Dr. Walter hesitates. He knows that Charles came to the manor in the evening, and he knows that Charles is the reason St. Meyer Hospital has become so popular. If the celebrities and nobility in the city want to make an appointment with him, they typically have to wait for a long time.
In the evening, Charles personally examined Avery and said that she was too weak to get pregnant and needs to be nursed with great care for three to six months. Charles's diagnosis sounds exhaustive and accurate, but now Evan Howel wants to go around him and ask his father to reexamine her.
"Does he doubt Charles' diagnosis?" Dr. Walter wonders.
Evan's demands create a rather subtle problem. If Charles' diagnosis is right, everyone will take it for granted because he's a well-respected doctor. Evan's request to have Avery re-examined will make the Howel family appear ungrateful. However, if Charles made a mistake, his reputation will suffer and St. Meyer hospital will lose many of its devoted upper-class clients.
Dr. Walter raises his eyes in time to see Evan open the brown bottle and pour its contents into the empty trash can. Then he pours half of the folic acid pills into the brown bottle.
"What is he doing?" Dr. Walter wonders.
Though Dr. Walter is concerned as a medical professional, he doesn't dare to voice his concerns to Evan. Evan seems to remember something and plucks a pill from the trash can. He rolls it in his palm before handing it to Dr. Walter.
"Have this tested," he orders, "I want to know exactly what it is within three days."
Dr. Walter carefully wraps the pill in tissue and leaves the room after a curt nod to Evan. Evan puts the brown bottle back into his pocket, grabs the remaining folic acid, and returns to the bedroom. Still warm from her bath, Avery lies half-reclined in the bed.
A maid stands by the bedside and presents medicine and water on a tray. Avery frowns slightly, takes the medicine hurriedly, and finally drinks sweetened water to wash away the medicine's bitter taste.
Evan watches her and then throws a bag to her, "Take this."
The small bag lands on the quilt and a white medicine bottle rolls out. Avery examines the bottle and frowns upon discovering that it's folic acid.
"Dr. Meyer said that I'm too weak to get pregnant right now," she says.
"You're supposed to start taking folic acid three months before conception," he replies.
Avery's heart misses a beat. Ignoring the fact that she's not currently fit for pregnancy, she is alarmed by Evan's single-mindedness. She thought the pregnancy was just a ruse to distract the press, but he seems very serious about it now.
"You know I don't want to have a baby," she says.
"You have no choice."
"But you do. There are lots of women who want to be Mrs. Howel and they'd all be willing to have a baby for you. Why must it be me?"
"Because you already are Mrs. Howel and this is your responsibility."
"Mrs. Howel is nothing but a machine for reproduction," she sneers, "Why don't you pick someone who can have a baby for you now?
"Don't challenge my patience," he warns, "And keep tomorrow afternoon free— I'm having someone take you to the hospital."
"The hospital?"
"Do you think I really believe Charles' bullshit?" he looks at her defiantly, "I'm having Charles' father reexamine you. He's the director of the hospital after all."
"Since you don't trust Dr. Meyer, I suggest you find a new hospital."
Evan speaks to the maids without looking at them, "Get another glass of water for Mrs. Howel. Do I need to explain everything to you?" The maids retreat in a fright one after another.
Evan casually puts the medicine bottle in his pocket into the drawer of the bedside table.
"The St. Meyer Hospital has the most advanced medical equipment but no skilled staff," he says.
Avery quietly clenches the quilt. She knows that weakness has nothing to do with Charles' diagnosis; he said she's unsuited for pregnancy because of the newly developed toxins in her blood. She knows that no one besides Charles is skilled enough to find the toxin. To any other doctor, it will look like Charles has misdiagnosed her. She doesn't want Charles to get into trouble after he's gone to such great lengths to help her, and she's worried about his reputation and his career.
"I absolutely can't go to that medical examination!" Avery thinks.
As she thinks she watches Evan, and she recognizes the medicine bottle he put into the drawer.
"So he did take the pills away from me when he kissed me!" she thinks.
Pretending that she didn't see him move the brown bottle, Avery opens the folic acid and takes a pill. She swallows it and the maid hands her water before retreating from the room. Evan lifts a corner of the quilt. As he slides into the bed, the mattress sinks and her heart sinks with it; they've never slept in the same bed before.
The taste of the medicine gradually fades and the air is full of his smell. She cocks her head to the side and finds that he is sitting with his back against the headboard and looking at her like a strange pet.
"Are you going to sleep sitting down? Your habits are very odd," she says, "But I have odder habits which may affect your sleep quality."
"For example?"
Evan's fingers are already entwined in her hair. He seems increasingly fascinated by playing with her hair and earlobe. Resisting the urge to beat his hand away, she says, "I grind my teeth, snort, talk, and even sleepwalk at night."