Rivals and Roses (The Vaughns #1)

Chapter 32

W hy was the most acute torture that which one inflicted upon oneself? Arthur knew he ought to look away, but seeing Miss Templeton traipse off with Mr. Gadd made his heart constrict. Doubly so when he considered that she’d been attempting to sneak away without a word. Granted, there was the issue of her cold reception amongst the townsfolk. And Arthur had seen her nearly every day of late, so she likely didn’t feel the need to seek him out, but he had hoped that she wouldn’t leave without greeting him at the very least.

Arthur tried not to curse his friends. The Finches were good people, and the more he came to know the pair, the more he liked them. But unknowingly or not, they were holding him captive.

“I didn’t realize there were so many ways to arrange a nursery,” said Mrs. Felicity Finch with a slight growl to her tone. “But Annette is determined to identify every variety, never mind that there is hardly a difference from one to the other, and the first option was quite serviceable.”

“My sister means well,” said Finch in an attempt at comfort, but the fellow needed to do a better job at hiding his amusement for he was dangerously close to laughing at his wife’s predicament (something even a seasoned bachelor like Arthur Vaughn knew was perilous).

Mrs. Finch’s eyes narrowed, her gaze boring into her husband. “Of course, she means well. Most people do not set out to be cruel, but good intentions don’t erase the irritation they cause.”

“I read recently of a corpulent gentleman traveling in the north…” began Finch in a tone filled with mischief.

“I read that to you from the latest edition of the Covent Garden Jester . Do not try to distract me with puns, Lewis Finch,” said Mrs. Finch with an expression that was intended to be scolding but failed utterly.

“But I do so enjoy distracting you,” replied Finch in a low voice that was likely not meant to carry. Thankfully, discovering that Mrs. Finch read such an absurd periodical was distracting enough that Arthur didn’t hear the lady’s reply.

His gaze tracked Miss Templeton and Mr. Gadd as they strolled about the gathering, and Arthur took heart from the fact that the lady didn’t seem to be enjoying the fellow’s company. Though he had to admit that her discomfort, in part, likely came from all the grim expressions turned in her direction. Arthur simply hoped Miss Templeton’s displeasure had more to do with the former and not the latter.

“She is avoiding me,” said Mrs. Finch, and Arthur gave a start, his gaze turning to her. There was a hint of speculation in the lady’s eyes as she studied him, though her attention swiftly shifted back to Miss Templeton. “I’ve tried calling on her several times, but our last conversation was a touch…uncomfortable.”

“I do not think Miss Templeton trusts easily,” said Arthur, offering up an insight that didn’t break a confidence, as anyone who knew the lady must have guessed as much.

Mrs. Finch’s brow furrowed as she studied the lady from afar. “I believe you are correct. As I consider all our conversations since my return to Oakham, I do not think any of them were truly personal or revealing—except our last conversation, and she only said as much as she did because she was overwrought. The girl I knew was eager and open, and I fear experience has taught her to guard herself.”

She glanced at her husband and held his arm tighter. “I fear far too many of us are forced to learn that lesson.”

“Too true,” murmured Arthur, tucking his hands behind him.

“Dr. Vaughn, there you are.”

Despite being new to the area, that was a voice he recognized. One that sent a shiver down his spine. Miss Bacon had a particular way of speaking that conveyed sunshine and roses yet never failed to raise his hackles and paralyze his tongue. Though that had as much to do with the way she examined him like a cut of beef as it did her saccharine manners.

“Miss Bacon,” he said with a proper bow whilst carefully casting his eyes about for an escape.

“Might I have a word with you? Privately?” she asked with a smile that was far more genuine than any she’d given in the past.

Manners almost made him accept, but with her father’s angry visage still haunting his dreams, Arthur didn’t dare allow that concession. He tried to think of a way in which to word his reply, but they jumbled in his head, allowing only the smallest of answers to come out.

“No. Thank you.”

Miss Bacon’s lips tightened as her gaze lowered to the ground, and in a low voice, she said, “I understand, and I do not blame you. It seems I owe you an apology, and though I didn’t feel it necessary at first, I fear my conscience will not allow me to ignore it. It has come to my attention that my father was a bit hasty in speaking with you about a certain…misunderstanding.”

As the gentleman had looked ready to call Arthur out right there in the street, he would say it was more than “speaking,” but that was neither here nor there.

“I wanted to apologize for that,” said Miss Bacon as a hint of pink colored her cheeks. “I should’ve been more circumspect before telling anyone, but had Miss Templeton not been so wicked as to suggest it, I would never have been so bold as to do so. Or should I say Mr. Templeton since she walks about so bold as brass with no thought as to how her actions affect the rest of us. As though a mere apology would compensate for the harm she’s done—”

“I assure you Miss Templeton is quite aware of her actions and the harm she’s done,” said Arthur. “And there is nothing ‘mere’ about the apology she made. There are plenty of people in my life who ought to acknowledge the harm they’ve done to me, but their pride will not allow them. The apology she offered me was the most heartfelt and sincere one I will likely ever receive, and Miss Templeton chose to give it of her own free will.”

Miss Bacon straightened. “Simply acknowledging her wrong isn’t enough.”

“Should we place her in a pillory? Force her to flog herself in front of the congregation? Or ought we to transport her for her crimes?” asked Arthur with a frown. “How much should she be punished to compensate for the harm she’s done? As far as I can see, all she did was bruise your pride, Miss Bacon, and if I—who stood to lose much more from her actions—can forgive her, what right do you have to be angry?”

“ Mr. Templeton lied to me—”

Arthur considered that. “Or did Miss Templeton simply imply something vague, knowing you would infer the meaning you wished?”

“You are defending her?” asked Miss Bacon, gaping.

“And if I am, are you going to turn Oakham against me? Punish me by running me out of town like you are doing to the Templetons? You will forgive me if I hold little value in your village’s good opinion, for you all were far too eager to cast aside a family who were your friends and neighbors for generations. And I may be more skilled at my profession than her brother, but Miss Templeton is one of the finest apothecaries I’ve ever seen, and none of you value her, choosing instead to mock her ability and belittle her achievements. ”

Arthur scoffed, shaking his head at her. “Miss Templeton helped me to save Mr. Evans’ leg and life, and no matter how much I objected, no one gave her any of the credit she deserved. She has served this community to the best of her ability, and you dubbed her ‘Mr.’ Templeton as though she is unworthy of common decency. I do not know why Oakham is determined to hate her, but I refuse to be party to it, and I will not listen to anyone disparage or disrespect her ever again.”

Miss Bacon stared at him for one long moment before turning around with a delicate huff. Arthur watched as she flounced away like the bubble-headed ninny she was, and he drew in a deep breath to calm the frustration boiling inside him. Before coming to Oakham, Arthur hadn’t thought himself a man with a temper, but it seemed he’d been incorrect.

At least when it came to a particular subject.

When his gaze turned back to his companions, Arthur wasn’t surprised to find them watching him closely. He hadn’t wished for privacy with Miss Bacon, after all. What he hadn’t anticipated was the level of speculation that blazed in their eyes as the pair watched him. He decided that ignoring it was best, so he turned his attention away from them once more and waited for them to return to their previous subject.

But he felt their interest sharpen when his eyes (of their own accord) moved immediately to Miss Templeton.

“I’ve never heard you string so many words together unless it has to do with medicine,” said Finch with raised brows.

“Did you expect me to stand there and ignore Miss Bacon’s aspersions against Miss Templeton?” asked Arthur.

“Of course not, but that was…” Finch’s words drifted away, but his smile grew when his wife supplied one.

“Thorough.”

Arthur gave a vague hum that was neither acceptance nor denial of that fact. The word was apt enough, but Mrs. Finch’s insinuating tone was another thing altogether.

“All in all, I feel as though I owe her a great debt,” said Arthur .

“How so?” asked Finch with an astonished chuckle.

“Miss Templeton wasn’t haphazard when she planted the ideas. The ladies she targeted were the ones who plagued me the most with their determined advances, and they were so easily convinced that I was enamored with them that they told anyone who would listen,” said Arthur. “Now, their pride is too wounded for them to make another attempt. In one fell swoop, Miss Templeton rid me of some very unwanted attention.”

Finch frowned. “But I thought you were looking to marry.”

“Not to someone who views me as a prize to win,” replied Arthur.

“Amen, Dr. Vaughn,” said Mrs. Finch with a nod. “Do not settle for anything less than someone who values you for your sake.”

A smile crossed his lips, and once more, Arthur’s gaze fell to the lady who seemed to fit that requirement more and more. Mr. Gadd gave her one of those irritating grins, babbling some nonsense that Miss Templeton pretended to find amusing (how could he not see the tension in her shoulders?) before the gentleman wandered over to queue for the cider.

“She’s alone now,” murmured Finch, but he was silenced when his wife gave him a sharp elbow to the ribs.

Arthur ignored them both. Though he’d heard tell of Lammas, London wasn’t one to celebrate the beginning of the harvest season, as the heart of the city had no harvest to speak of, and though the entertainments here were far less extravagant or awe-inspiring than the offerings found in Town, the quaintness of the traditions more than made up for the simplicity with which they celebrated.

He longed to steal an afternoon with Miss Templeton as they enjoyed the festivities. To have a drink or two as they listened to the country tunes played by the tiny band of musicians and indulged in some of the finest bread and cheese he’d ever tasted. A perfect way to pass a few hours.

But curiosity had been eating at him for some weeks, and Arthur couldn’t help but seize the moment to satiate it .

“Please excuse me,” he said with a vague nod toward the Finches. He strode over to where the popinjay stood alone (for once), waiting for cider.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Vaughn,” said Mr. Gadd with a nod. “How are you enjoying yourself?”

“It’s delightful,” said Arthur. “How is your mother faring?”

“She’s doing much better and singing your praises,” said Mr. Gadd as they arrived at the front of the line, taking up two mugs of cider. Arthur ignored the drinks and followed the gentleman as he moved to return to his sweetheart’s side.

“You have Miss Templeton to thank for that. Her tisane worked wonders for this influenza,” said Arthur, watching the gentleman closely.

“Vi is incredible,” said Mr. Gadd with a nod. “She’s brilliant at so many things. Quite an impressive lady.”

“Have you known her for a long time?”

“Our whole lives, of course. We both grew up here.” Mr. Gadd paused in place and considered that. “I cannot say we knew each other well, as we had little in common as children, but she became friends with my sister a few years back, so our paths started crossing quite regularly. It’s hard to believe we were ever just distant acquaintances. I adore her.”

Those three words made his heart sink; Mr. Gadd spoke them with such obvious affection that one couldn’t doubt the truth of the sentiment. Enough so that Arthur nearly turned away. Yet he couldn’t allow the valuable opportunity to pass. Even if he had no idea how to phrase the next question.

“Is that when you two began courting?” Not the best way to ask it, but Arthur was glad to finally have it out. After all, the question ought not to be surprising after such a blatant declaration.

No, what was shocking was Mr. Gadd’s reaction.

Gaping, he stared at Arthur for a long moment before bursting into laughter. “Courting? Are you mad?”

Mr. Gadd could hardly speak through his guffaws. Though Arthur didn’t care for the reaction and what it said about the gentleman’s feelings toward the lady, his temper remained dormant, as Mr. Gadd’s tone was one of genuine bewilderment and not mocking.

For the briefest of moments, understanding dawned bright, filling his world with light and colors as Arthur considered the implications. They weren’t courting, and Mr. Gadd was no rival. Blessed news.

But the elation lasted only a heartbeat, for the next moment Mr. Gadd got himself under control and called to Miss Templeton. Arthur’s muscles tensed, and his skin flushed as heat swept over him; his mind frantically fought to find a way out of this coming conversation, but his wits always failed him in such moments, leaving him standing about like a gaping trout.

“Vi, you are going to love this,” said Mr. Gadd, handing her a drink before throwing an arm around the lady—something that would’ve had Arthur’s blood boiling mere moments ago. “Dr. Vaughn thought I was courting you.”