Rivals and Roses (The Vaughns #1)

Chapter 7

“A re you claiming it is imagined, sir?” asked Mrs. Finch. “I assure you, my sore throat and pounding head are not feigned.”

“I would never dare to say so, madam,” replied Dr. Vaughn with a slight bow of his head. “I am merely stating what I have observed in my profession.”

“Isn’t that like a physician?” asked Mrs. Finch with a dismissive wave. “Each is convinced they hold the answers to life’s mysteries, yet it is near impossible to find two who agree. My doctor is convinced cold temperatures are deadly.”

Dr. Vaughn gave her a faint smile. “I understand your frustration, madam, and I assure you that despite the assertions of most medical practitioners, medicine provides few answers. Most of it is guesswork and supposition.”

Felicity’s brows rose at that. “Your colleagues would burn you at the stake as a heretic if you said as much to them.”

“My father would flog me,” he replied with a smile. Then, turning his attention to Violet, he added, “I wanted to tell you that I called on Mr. Evans this afternoon.”

Her muscles clenched as surprise jolted through her. There was only one reason a farmer’s family would send for a doctor. “ Please tell me his leg is not infected. I called on him yesterday and all seemed well.”

Dr. Vaughn held up a calming hand. “Not at all. I visited to set my heart at ease, and I only wanted to assure you that he is healing nicely. I spied a little redness, but not a worrying amount, and if it grows any worse, I will bleed him, which should set him to rights in a trice. They cannot afford to do so unless necessary, so I am hoping it will sort itself out on its own. And though I advised him to keep weight off his leg for a while longer, I do not believe the bone is fractured.”

Violet let out a gust of breath, her body relaxing once more. “Thank heavens. I feared the worst.”

“And how are you two acquainted?” asked Felicity with a frown, her gaze darting between the pair.

“You haven’t heard about the gallant Dr. Vaughn, who performed surgery in the middle of the road?” asked Diana with far more enthusiasm than Violet liked hearing when discussing the interloping physician.

“Between being ill and occupied with settling our visitors into Farleigh Manor, I fear I haven’t heard any of the tittle-tattle,” said Felicity. “Usually, there is little to miss, but I fear this was not a good time to be out of touch with the village rumor mill.”

In quick succession, Diana relayed that which was common knowledge (much of which was far more than Violet had recounted), and the Finch ladies took in the story with bated breath. Mrs. Finch even opened her fan as though the very mention of the surgery was causing her to grow faint, and her sister-in-law patted her hand.

“That is quite exciting,” said Mrs. Finch.

Felicity nodded. “Quite. How lucky that you were on hand, Dr. Vaughn.”

But the gentleman shook his head. “While I was quite happy to be of assistance, I assure you Miss Templeton was managing without me. ”

“You are too kind, sir,” replied Violet, her cheeks warming. “I assure you that your work is what saved his leg.”

“And I assure you that is not so, Miss Templeton,” he replied with a frown. “It was you who thought to lay your cloak to keep him out of the dirt as much as possible and rallied the onlookers—who were more concerned with gawking than being of use. To say nothing of the fact that you were as good as three dressers. Time was of the essence, and because of your assistance, I was able to focus entirely on the surgery, which saved his leg and possibly his life.”

Dr. Vaughn spoke with absolute certainty, as though his words were more than mere opinion but hardened fact. Immovable and unassailable. And Violet felt as fidgety as a child at church. Whatever chill she might’ve felt a moment ago fled at the flood of warmth his compliment drew forth. It burned in her heart, spreading through her until it suffused her entire being.

“Then it is a blessing we were both there, sir,” said Violet.

Dr. Vaughn bowed in acquiescence, though there was a challenge in his eye that said he did not fully accept her statement. Which only made her fidget more. But when the conversation lapsed, the gentleman shifted in place, his implacable expression softening as his gaze darted between the ladies and his feet.

“I do apologize for having interrupted. I didn’t mean to… I had hoped to…” he mumbled.

With a furrowed brow, Violet stared at the fellow, wondering what had him so discomposed all of the sudden. But it was at that moment that Mrs. Finch straightened, her eyes following Dr. Vaughn’s gaze, though with a far more determined air.

“Are you enjoying the assembly, sir?” asked Mrs. Finch.

Dr. Vaughn shuffled in place, his gaze drifting to Violet’s toes. “Quite.”

Clearing his throat, he straightened his shoulders. “Might I… If it wouldn’t be impertinent, that is—Miss Templeton, if you are not otherwise engaged… ”

The fellow seemed disinclined to finish his statement, and Violet stared at him.

“I am certain she would be honored,” said Mrs. Finch with a broad smile, drawing Violet’s attention. The lady’s own eyes seemed to be communicating something, though Violet couldn’t fathom the meaning, and Dr. Vaughn seemed determined to hem and haw until dawn arrived. With a sharp jerk of her head, Mrs. Finch nodded toward the dance floor.

“Oh.” Violet straightened, blinking at the rest of the group, who watched her with equal amounts of puzzlement. “Are you asking me to dance, Dr. Vaughn?”

Other ladies might’ve managed a coquettish tone to the question with a hint of flirtation in their smile, but honest confusion rang through Violet’s words. And she wished she’d kept her mouth shut, for the gentleman’s gaze rose to meet hers again with a flicker of disappointment as though her incredulity had been a dismissal.

“I apologize if that came out sounding sharper than intended. You simply surprised me,” said Violet as she tried to gather her wits. “But yes, I would be honored.”

Strain eased from his shoulders as he held out his hand to her, and she took it, allowing herself to be guided toward the area in which dancers were beginning to congregate. But when they arrived in the haphazard grouping, they stood there silently.

“It appears that the dancing isn’t quite ready to begin,” said Violet.

Dr. Vaughn’s lips pinched together, and he nodded, his gaze darting around them but never settling fully on her for more than a heartbeat. Which left Violet free to examine the gentleman. Not two minutes ago, he had eagerly and animatedly spoken about their meeting, appearing entirely at ease. But now, he refused to talk.

“You are brave to attend an assembly so soon after arriving,” said Violet. “Travel is so exhausting on its own, let alone settling into a new home. I wouldn’t have bothered attending, as these events are bound to leave you even more fatigued. Though my friends would say I’m a spoilsport for saying such a thing.”

Dr. Vaughn’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Then you do not care for assemblies?”

“I adore them.” Canting her head to the side, Violet considered that. “But like most things, I prefer them in moderation. As it takes so many of us such a long time to travel to Bentmoor, they are loath to end it at a reasonable hour, and it grows less and less pleasant as the evening wears on whilst the guests tipple far too much punch, the room grows stifling, and the aroma becomes ever more pungent. To say nothing of the fact that I am reaching an age where the thought of dancing ’til dawn inspires more groans than glee.”

That earned her a proper chuckle, and something in his posture eased. “I have never heard a dance described thusly, though it is accurate.”

Violet shared in the laugh, but Dr. Vaughn did nothing to keep the silence from returning. The pair stood there, avoiding looking at each other, and Violet’s wits fled her, leaving her with nothing more to say. As the silence dragged on, his brows furrowed, but Dr. Vaughn made no move to counter her question with one of his own.

Why had he invited her to dance if he didn’t wish to? The question was odd, to be certain, and Violet tried to reconcile the calm gentleman she’d met on the road to Oakham with the fidgety fellow before her.

Dr. Vaughn was broadly built, yet he seemed to shrink into himself, giving the impression that he was shorter than her, though she knew him to be the same height. As he rubbed his hands on his thighs, his blue eyes darted around the gathering, never settling on her for long, and though he held fast to a smile, there was a pained edge to it that was entirely different from that which he’d employed while conversing a moment ago.

And in a flash, understanding settled on her—Dr. Vaughn was uncomfortable in society .

When discussing medicine and his profession, the gentleman could speak at length, but when faced with idle chatter, he couldn’t string more than two words together. Having struggled with such anxiety herself, Violet’s heart melted a touch for the gentleman. Even knowing that his presence in Oakham would cause her family trouble, she couldn’t bear to see him struggle.

“You studied in London?” asked Violet.

Dr. Vaughn drew in a breath, the tenseness in his shoulders easing as an easy smile graced his lips. “I did. My father is not only an accomplished surgeon but taught at St. Thomas’ Hospital as well, so I studied under his tutelage there and at Guy’s.”

“Both are illustrious institutions. Which did you prefer?”

“Guy’s,” he replied without hesitation.

“And why is that?”

Dr. Vaughn shuffled in place, a touch of his discomfort returning, though he gave a clear answer. “St. Thomas’ focused more on anatomy and surgery, but I prefer the physician side of medicine. Most especially childbirth and the management of infants and children.”

Violet’s brows rose at that, and Dr. Vaughn gave her a chagrined smile in return.

“Yes, I know that most doctors prefer far more prestigious studies, which is why I surrendered to my father’s insistence that I study surgery as well, but I found myself pulled back to that subject again and again. We’ve advanced in so many areas of medicine, yet it is still commonplace for mothers to lose their lives bringing their children into this world—a third of whom will not live to see their first birthday, and of those who do survive, a further one in ten will not reach five years of age. Surely, if we can gain a better understanding of how to help our most vulnerable, it will improve how we treat the rest of us as well.”

Blinking, she stared at him as he spoke forcefully, requiring little prodding as he expounded on that subject and medicine in general. Dr. Vaughn hardly seemed to notice when the lead couple called out the figures and the musicians struck the opening notes. For all his awkwardness before, he moved easily through the steps, attesting that though he did not care for society, he had the skills to navigate it, and Violet was rather jealous of his newfound ease.

From the corners of her eyes, she spied the ladies on either side of her, and she couldn’t help but feel like a galloping giant next to them as she attempted the dance. Being the same height as and even taller than the gentlemen opposite, weaving under arms required quite a lot of ducking on her part, and with her broad shoulders, it was impossible to slip between the dancers without jostling them. Clearly, the dancing masters who choreographed such travesties didn’t intend for ladies of great stature to dance.

Yet Dr. Vaughn seemed blind to it all, turning his whole attention on her as they lost themselves in conversation.