Chapter 24 #2
It was only when he left the Tonnelet—after having received two more clients wishing to try the baths—that it occurred to him that Mr. Bridwell had not come. He had to assume it was because he was too busy preparing for their departure, but it quickened his steps in his haste to see Amy.
When he reached his rooms, he quickly changed his clothes and ate a light repast, determined to have a private moment with her before she left, as lengthy as she could afford to give him. The closer her departure loomed, the more he dreaded it. Perhaps he could propose to her now after all. . . .
He remembered the necklace he had bought all those years ago that he thought would be perfect for her, although it was the veriest trinket. He could picture tying it around her neck, his fingers grazing her soft skin, her lips curled up in pleasure.
No. He must not do that. He must not lock her into any sort of promise until he had secured his fortune and could support a wife. It would be a dastardly thing to do.
James was on the point of going to visit Amy when he received a message from Mr. Vroomen requesting that he come. There was a new patient he wished to hand over to James who required urgent consultation.
He needed to go—needed this patient and the additional revenue that would come with them.
Although James fretted at the delay, he comforted himself with the knowledge that Mr. Bridwell had stated they’d depart midafternoon, and it was only half past twelve.
Besides, based on his brief glimpse of the parlor the day before, it was evident the family still had much to pack.
They were not likely to leave in the next hour, and he would not stay above that.
“Fletcher, please have a seat,” Mr. Vroomen said when he was shown in. “I will give you the name and direction of Mrs. Morewell momentarily. Although I stated that it was urgent, the visit can be made over the course of the afternoon. She likely has dropsy, so you will need to bring diuretics.”
“I will do so.” James sat as invited, hiding his impatience out of respect for his mentor.
Mrs. Vroomen stood to serve them, hobbling over to the sideboard, where some tea and fortified wines had been set out, but Mr. Vroomen stopped her.
“No, Martha. I wish you will go to your room and rest. I will set out the tea.”
She met his stern look with a guilty smile that made her look younger than her years. “Oh, but I am quite all right now.”
“Mrs. Vroomen,” James said, smiling despite his preoccupation, “I would not have you twist your ankle again waiting on me.”
“Oh, very well,” she replied. James could hear the humor in her voice as Mr. Vroomen assisted her to the other room.
On his return, he brought two cups and saucers to the table. The sight of these preparations for tea made James gulp at the precious loss of time, but he could not bring himself to rush Mr. Vroomen.
“Miss Bainesworth is to be married,” his mentor said, sitting down.
“So you know it, then. Morry is a very good friend of mine. I am glad for them both.”
Mr. Vroomen returned no answer as he checked the strength of the tea, but as he looked at James, there was a smile in his eyes. He poured the tea and set the teapot down with a questioning look. “Do you take milk?”
James shook his head. “No, sugar only, if you please.” He took the sugar bowl from Mr. Vroomen and stirred some into his cup, batting down his rising impatience once again.
The tea was fragrant and sweet, and he drank it quickly.
“I had more curists come today to try the baths. I believe some of them are owing to you, and I wished to thank you for it.”
Mr. Vroomen looked pleased. “Yes, I have been encouraging those of my patients who might benefit from the baths to attempt it. I am glad to assist. After all, I persuaded you to come to Spa, and I know it has not been as easy as either of us thought to build your list of patients, especially with other new physicians arriving at the same time.”
“It has not been,” James agreed. Perhaps it was the connection they had shared through their mentoring relationship, or the talk of Morry and Miss Bainesworth’s betrothal, but James knew an unusual desire to confide in his mentor.
“I have another reason for wishing to see my thermal baths succeed. The Bridwells—I believe you have met them—are friends from Kent, and I have an understanding with the eldest daughter.”
A sudden fear overtook him that Mr. Vroomen would deem him fickle in nature, and he rushed on to say, “Our attachment preceded my engagement with Miss Prexley but ended due to a contretemps. I had believed Miss Bridwell to be already married and consider myself most fortunate to find out she was not.” He left unsaid how fortunate he considered himself to have escaped marrying Isabel.
“That is excellent news, James. Allow me to congratulate you.” Mr. Vroomen stood and reached out to shake his hand. James stood and returned the gesture automatically, but as he regained his seat, his smile fell.
“The family is leaving today, however. Mr. Bridwell thinks that the atmosphere in Spa is not propitious for his health. As I cannot yet support a wife, I am . . .” He looked down at his hands.
“Well, I am forced to make us both wait longer until I can build a sustainable income. We have decided to correspond by letter until such a time.”
Mr. Vroomen picked up his cup and took a sip of tea before setting it down, everything done in careful movements. “You have always led with your mind rather than your heart, James. Placed duty over affection. You’re an honorable man.”
Mr. Vroomen was describing the James he had become and not the James he once had been. He knew there was a caveat in those words, but in the pause, felt obliged to respond. “Thank you.”
“Perhaps it is time to follow your heart, eh? How many years have you been estranged from Miss Bridwell, this woman who appears to be your first love?”
The advice provided James a sore temptation.
It was difficult for him to resist, since it accorded with his own desires, and especially since Amy was on the verge of leaving.
He would have only a few minutes of private conversation with her today and one last embrace—this if he were lucky.
But he should not give in to his temptation. He needed to think reasonably.
“We have not seen each other for six years before this.”
“Six years is a long time. Why should you wait any longer?” His mentor folded his hands on the table and gave him one of his most piercing stares.
“Mr. Vroomen, I truly have nothing to live on.” A laugh, pathetic in nature, escaped him as he thought about how close he was to having Amy for his wife—of convincing her to stay—even if reason warred against the idea.
“Although,” he conceded, “today’s list of people trying the baths shows promise that I will have an income from them.
It is just too soon to tell how much or when. One cannot build a life on hopes.”
Mr. Vroomen steepled his hands on the table, always answering at his own pace as though the dictates of time had no mastery over him.
“In addition to Mrs. Morewell, I received today an inquiry from a Belgian gentleman, and another from a Parisian, both expressing their desire to travel to Spa this season for a cure. As one is traveling for his rheumatic complaint and the other for fatigue, I will recommend they consult with you.”
James’s anxiety about the time had only increased, and he feared that if he waited too long, he would not see Amy before she left. But Mr. Vroomen had been more than helpful toward James’s goal of independence, and he was grateful.
“Thank you,” he replied in heartfelt accents.
Mr. Vroomen nodded and lifted his cup to his lips, raising a set of bushy brows over the rim.
“It is nothing. I have enough patients for now.” He silently pushed the paper with Mrs. Morewell’s direction across the table toward James.
“However, my advice to you is not to spend too much time waiting for the perfect conditions to fall into place before you begin pursuing matters of the heart. Those do not always wait.”
Mr. Vroomen’s words followed James as he finally excused himself and set out for the H?tel de Lorraine, the urgency to see Amy now sharp.
Matters of the heart do not always wait.
What if he missed her? What if she thought he did not care because he had not visited before she left?
He would not make the same mistake again and allow distraction to ruin their chances.