Rivals and Roses (The Vaughns #1)

Chapter 34

M onths of preparation and planning. Expectations had been set and choices had been made long ago, and thus, one might think it strange to hesitate. Yet so much had altered of late, leaving Violet uncertain what to do. Sitting at her dressing table, she felt a swirl of anticipation and anxiety flood her as she stared at the note, but no matter how many times she reread the words, they remained the same.

Felicity had taken to her bed.

Too many unknowns surrounded the birthing process for there to be confidence in the outcome, yet it was impossible not to feel a frisson of excitement at the prospect that after all this time of waiting, the day had arrived. And Violet ought to know what to do, but the note wasn’t written in Felicity’s hand—which wasn’t surprising, as the lady was occupied with more pressing matters—yet Violet didn’t know what to make of it. A single sentence stating the pains had begun, but there was no information beyond that.

Sending word implied she ought to come, didn’t it? Yet all the reasons she’d been asked to attend were moot. Dr. Vaughn was quite capable of managing on his own, and Violet couldn’t even say with any certainty that Felicity counted her among her friends. Perhaps someone had sent word on Felicity’s behalf without realizing her desires had altered. And the note was merely informative. No doubt the Finches were sending word across town, as so many were eagerly awaiting the arrival.

With a sigh, Violet rested her hand and the letter on the table surface and turned her gaze out the window.

Dropping the missive, she rose to her feet. Waiting was a dreadful thing, and it would be best if she threw herself into her chores. Of course, it did little good. Distractions worked for a few minutes, but Violet’s thoughts turned back to Felicity again and again; it was impossible to erase the worry that creased her brow or the frantic fidgeting of her fingers whenever she stood still for more than a heartbeat.

***

“Miss?” Peggy knocked on the office door but remained firmly in the corridor. Though she tried to hide her nerves, the maid fidgeted and inched further away from the threshold, and Violet held back a self-directed wince.

“Come in, Peggy. I said I do not want people in this room when I am not present. I am here, so do not fret.”

“Yes, miss,” said the maid with a bob (though without stepping inside). “There’s another letter from Farleigh Manor.”

The basket Violet had been holding fell to the tabletop, and she hurried over with an outstretched hand. As she broke the seal, Peggy added, “And the Finches’ coach is waiting for you.”

“It is?” she asked, glancing through the window—only to spy the back end of a carriage.

“The groom said they aren’t leaving unless you are inside.”

Violet’s pulse raced as she considered that and opened the missive to find Felicity’s handwriting staring back at her.

Stop being stubborn and come . — F

“Fetch my cloak, Peggy,” said Violet as she glanced about the workroom. Without knowing what the trouble was, she couldn’t say for certain what was required, so she filled a basket with anything that might prove useful. Thankfully, she’d stocked many of her favorite tonics and tisanes for childbirth.

In a trice, Peggy had her bundled up and in the carriage, and Violet considered the letter. Perhaps the trouble wasn’t medical. Dr. Vaughn knew what he was about; surely, he didn’t require her. Unless something truly was amiss, and he needed an assistant.

Violet shook that thought away. Most likely Mr. Finch’s family was plaguing her. Should Felicity require an armed guard to muscle her sister-in-law out of the lying-in chamber, Violet was quite up to the task. Mrs. Annette Finch was a twig compared to Violet Templeton, and it would be easy enough; gentlemen were never comfortable tossing a lady out on her ear, but Violet had no such qualms.

Such thoughts followed her as they made their way to Farleigh Manor. Leaning toward the window, she watched as the house came into view. Trees framed the drive, opening up to reveal the building, which was a patchwork of various styles and colors. Having been expanded and built over generations, Farleigh Manor had an oddly unique appearance, and though Violet adored the vista, she felt like shouting for the driver to move faster.

Springing out before the carriage came to a stop, she hurried to the door, which opened without bidding, and the manservant took her things before ushering her up the sweeping staircase and into his mistress’s lying-in chamber. The adjacent drawing room hosted a wealth of Finches as the family waited together, and in the far corner sat a piano occupied by Mr. Finch, but Violet passed by with barely a glance.

They’d repurposed a sitting room next door for Felicity’s use, with the birthing cot placed in the middle so her attendants could easily move about, and the mother-to-be was propped up by a mound of pillows, looking as calm and collected as though she was enjoying an afternoon coze.

“There you are,” said Mrs. Finch as Dr. Vaughn popped up from his seat. “We were just speculating if Felicity’s note was adequately provoking.”

Violet’s gaze darted between the people. “Is everything progressing well?”

“Perfectly,” said Felicity, crossing her arms before whispering something to Mrs. Finch, who ushered Dr. Vaughn toward the door. “Go keep Lewis company, else he will force his way back in. Do not allow him to do so until it is time.”

“As you wish,” said Dr. Vaughn with a curt bow before the pair swept out of the room and shut the door behind them, leaving Felicity alone with Violet.

Violet could hardly think what to say; her pulse still raced, and though Felicity motioned her toward an empty seat, it took a few moments before Violet was calm enough to do so.

“I thought something was amiss,” said Violet, setting her basket on the ground beside her. “That Mrs. Finch was being contrary, or Dr. Vaughn required assistance.”

“I am healthy and hale, all things considered, and Lewis’s family is less a problem than the man himself. He frets with each pain, making me more anxious, but Phineas has set himself to distracting and corralling Lewis for now whilst Annette sees to my every whim.”

Felicity paused, her brows rising. “But is that the only reason you think I would wish for you to be in attendance? To distract my family and play nurse to me?”

Drawing in a deep breath, Violet nodded, her gaze drifting away. “You have Dr. Vaughn now, and with everything that has happened of late, I wasn’t entirely certain I was wanted—”

Violet’s words were cut short when Felicity drew in a sharp breath and winced, before bending forward with a grown. Leaning closer, Violet took the lady’s hand, and Felicity squeezed it with all her might as she struggled against the growing pain .

“You are doing beautifully,” she whispered, rubbing Felicity’s hand between hers. Silently, Violet counted off the seconds as the contraction lingered. “Just another moment.”

As Felicity’s muscles relaxed once more, she dropped back onto the pillows with a sigh as new beads of sweat gathered at her temple. Violet leaned away, but Felicity’s hold was tight and refused to let her put distance between them.

“The note I had Lewis send you wasn’t sign enough?” she asked when she had the breath to do so.

“He only wrote that you had taken to your bed, not that you wished me to come.”

Pinching her nose, Felicity gave a halting chuckle. “That man is truly abysmal at expressing himself.” Lowering her hand once more, the lady studied Violet, though she couldn’t bear to meet Felicity’s gaze. “Believe it or not, Violet Templeton, I wanted you at my side because I wanted your company. I haven’t any mother, and though Annette is a dear, she is little more than a stranger. You are my closest friend in Devon.”

Felicity sighed, her expression falling. “I know I was a terrible correspondent, and though you’ve said you understand why, I feel as though you are angry with me.”

“I am not angry with you,” said Violet with a shake of her head.

“Then why are you keeping me at a distance? Goodness knows that the years apart have made us very different people from back then, but I feel as though we could be as good of friends as ever.”

Most decisions have little impact on one’s life. Choices were an everyday occurrence, after all. And even significant ones often felt unimportant in the moment, leaving one unable to truly comprehend the gravity of that decision until the consequences made themselves known. But Violet recognized this moment for what it was and knew silence would protect her from further pain, allowing her to keep her fears and flaws carefully hidden from view—and leaving Violet isolated and alone .

Yet to place her trust in someone who had already abandoned her? To risk her heart again?

“Do you truly think I will forget you when the baby is born?” asked Felicity.

Violet straightened and yanked her hand away. “Pardon?”

“You mentioned it the last time we spoke.”

Cheeks heating, Violet tried to recall the entire conversation, but it was a jumbled mess of emotions. Her words had come without thinking, drawing forth more confessions than she’d intended. Or remembered.

“Do you truly wish to discuss this at this very moment?” But any hope Violet had that Felicity might drop the subject died when the lady nodded.

“And why not?” replied Felicity, running a hand along her stomach. “This child is determined to take her time.”

Another pain seized hold of her, and Violet did her best to help her friend through it; her own muscles strained in sympathy as Felicity fought through it and collapsed again, her breaths coming in heavy pants. No wonder her husband was barred from the room. Despite having assisted in other births, it was never easy to stand by whilst others suffered.

“I would say your child is coming quite quickly,” said Violet with a frown. “Especially for a firstborn.”

Felicity slanted a wry smile at her. “The pains began long before I told Lewis. Annette suggested keeping it to ourselves until it progressed to the point where I had to take to my bed. Else he would’ve insisted I do so long before she makes her debut.”

“‘She’? You think it a girl?” asked Violet.

A slight smile graced her lips. “One can never know for certain, but I just feel it is. Lewis does as well.”

“What names—”

But Felicity leveled a narrowed look at her. “Do not think to distract me, Violet Templeton. If you do not wish to discuss it, then tell me. I will take that as my answer. But despite our different situations in life, can we not be friends? ”

“It’s not about our differences,” said Violet, her gaze falling to her lap.

The crossroads stood before her, and Violet had to take a step in one direction or the other. To do nothing would choose for her, forcing Felicity to remain at arm’s length.

Remain silent? Or allow Felicity another chance? That she was even debating the thing only proved just how silly a person Violet Templeton was. How many times must one suffer the consequences before one learned the lesson? And it wasn’t as though Felicity would understand. The explanation sounded petty, even in Violet’s own head. There was no point in trying.

Yet no one had ever wished to understand before. Nor cared enough to press the issue. People were content with the friendly distance she maintained, never questioning it or attempting to breach it.

Drawing in a deep breath, Violet forced the words out before she thought better of it. “They say parents don’t have favorites. But mine do.”