Chapter 23
H ome was a strange concept. More than brick and mortar, it was the spirit of the place that clung to every surface like ivy climbing the stone, transforming even long-forgotten buildings into something achingly familiar—as though the very floorboards remembered the weight of footsteps and the murmur of voices. Yet “home” could be a transient thing, shifting quickly into something foreign.
Eddie had spent the whole of his life at Hawthorne House. All the Vaughn siblings had been born and raised there. His family still resided within those walls. But standing on the front path, he felt like he ought to tug the bellpull rather than simply stride through the front door.
The building was idyllic. The strong timber beams stood out against the meticulously maintained plaster siding, and with the garden that Mother and Father loved so dearly in full bloom, the distant sound of songbirds and honeybees was like a familiar tune, which couldn’t help but lighten his spirits.
If Eddie ignored the reason for his visit.
Puffing out his cheeks with a sigh, he rehearsed his speech. For all that Joanna had sung his praises, it was moments like this that made him question how she saw something that he, himself, didn’t feel. A grown man cowering on the front steps of his parents’ home; such a formidable specimen of courage and manhood.
Edward forced himself to straighten. Fidgeting here was simply proving Joanna’s point; he was a touch too much of a people-pleaser himself, and if he was going to lecture her about that mote, he had to remove the beam in his eye.
The front door opened, and Mother stepped through—and gasped when she turned her gaze to see him standing there.
“Good heavens,” she said, placing a hand on her chest. “You startled me. I was just leaving to join Joanna at her afternoon tea.”
Edward straightened, a genuine smile appearing as he relaxed. “Good. She’s been in such a dither about it and wants it to go well.”
“I enjoyed Christiana’s when we last visited London, and I am certain Thornsby will eagerly embrace another reason to socialize and eat,” said Mother as she straightened her gloves.
Nodding, he tried not to fidget as she leaned in to buss him on the cheek; as Mother was quite the equal of any man’s height, she didn’t need to stretch to do so.
“I must say that I know it is good for you two to have your own home, but I miss having you both about,” she said, smiling at him. “You were entirely correct about your Joanna. When she isn’t anxious, she is quite a delightful young lady, and I find I enjoy her more and more every time our paths cross.”
Drawing in a breath, Mother reached over to pat his cheek as she had when he was a lad. “And your father and I are proud of you and how you are embracing your responsibilities as a husband so seriously.”
Eddie’s expression froze in place, though his brows inched slowly together. It wasn’t the first time she had expressed that sentiment, but today, it struck with extra force.
“Why wouldn’t I take my responsibilities seriously? Did you think I would abandon my wife or treat her cruelly?” he asked.
With a huffing chuckle, Mother shook her head. “I didn’t mean it like that, darling. Only that it is clear married life suits you. Sometimes you can be…” Letting out a sigh, she furrowed her brow as she considered her words. Then, shaking it off, she added with a tender smile, “I just worry about all my children. Sadie is timid and Gregory is aloof—”
“And I am flighty?” he asked with a false chuckle, nudging the pavers with the toe of his shoe.
“Not at all,” she said with a frown, but Eddie shrugged it off and stepped around her.
“I was hoping to speak with Father,” he said, giving her a nod in farewell.
“Eddie—”
But he shut the front door behind him.
Staring at the entrance hall, Eddie tried to gather his strength once more. How did Joanna understand something so fundamental about him that his own mother couldn’t grasp? It wasn’t as though she ever castigated or belittled him, but every worried utterance demonstrated Mother's low expectations for her second son. And Eddie couldn’t help wondering what he’d ever done to give rise to such concerns.
Holding fast to Joanna’s words, he bolstered his courage as he stared at the door in the corridor that led to his father’s study; he felt transported back to his childhood, when he’d stood thusly so many times, knowing he needed to speak to Father. Being a rambunctious lad, those visits had often included confessions, but though this one was nothing of the sort, Eddie still felt the phantom of those worries churning in his stomach.
He forced his feet forward, moving to the door and slipping inside. The familiar scent of herbs and medicines clung to the air; the family had relocated their medicine-making operation to its own dedicated building (which now fell under Gregory’s domain), but decades of being used for that purpose had left their mark on the room.
Gone were the bottles that had lined the shelves, replaced with Father’s library of medical books. Eddie supposed he could bring those that were part of his personal collection to his new home, but as the family all shared and used them at their pleasure, it seemed unnecessary to do so.
His parents hadn’t been able to part with the massive work table that had stood in the center of the room as long as physicians had lived in Hawthorne House, but as it was perfectly sized to allow both husband and wife to work without encroaching on the other’s territory, it had been relegated to a desk. No amount of sanding and polish was able to erase the gashes and scratches marring the thick wood or hide the utilitarian design of the piece, but though many would deem it unbefitting of a gentleman’s study, it was perfectly suited for the Vaughns’.
Hunched over the expanse of wood, Father’s head was angled in a manner that made Eddie’s neck hurt in sympathy. Scribbling away on his paper, he studied the words carefully. Eddie recognized the focus of one lost in thought, and he waited to be acknowledged, lest Father lose some important idea before it was properly recorded.
But as the moment stretched on, he cleared his throat, and Father jolted upright, splattering the page with droplets of ink.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” said Eddie with a wince. “But I wasn’t sure if you had heard me come in.”
“Eddie?” Father straightened and turned to face him directly. When his eyes landed on his son, the gentleman’s expression lightened. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I hadn’t planned on paying a call today.”
Father squinted at him for a moment before turning back to his work, his head craning in that unnatural way of his as he examined the sheets.
“Is something the matter?” asked Eddie with a frown.
Father huffed a laugh and waved it away. “Not at all.”
“Are you certain? You are looking at your papers strangely—”
“There is just a lot on my mind of late. That is all,” said Father, rising to his feet and motioning toward the far side of the room, where there were armchairs enough for the both of them.
Father stumbled, and Eddie reached out to steady him.
“That blasted rug,” growled the gentleman, turning his eyes to his feet and glaring a hole into the floor. “It’s constantly trying to trip me.”
“Are you certain—”
“I am well, Eddie. Do not worry about me,” he said, taking the seat with a heavy sigh and motioning for his son to follow suit.
His father wasn’t one to lie, but then, he wasn’t one to use crude language, either, and Eddie was certain that the gentleman was just as guilty of the former as he had been the latter. Settling slowly into the overstuffed armchair, he considered what to say when Father insisted nothing was amiss. Would he jeopardize this conversation by calling out that lie when they already had a difficult discussion ahead of them?
Eddie shifted in his seat and forced himself to relax. Nothing was wrong with Father, and it was better to get to the point.
“I wanted to speak to you…” Eddie paused, drawing in a breath. The window at their back was open, and the scent of flowers and soil filled his nostrils, though he coughed on a bit of fluff that was floating in the air. Allowing the warm fragrance to help calm his nerves, he forged ahead. “I am married and settled now, and I think it is high time I manage more of the patients. I spent years shadowing you, I have my full education—and then some—and while I appreciate that you wish to ease me into the responsibilities, I want to be more than your apprentice or Gregory’s assistant.”
Father’s brows pulled together as he sat for a long, silent moment. “Can we not leave things as they are for now? You do not have many patients, but surely that is a boon for a young married man. I certainly would’ve loved more time with your mother in our early years, but we didn’t have the means to do so.”
“Yes, but too much time on my hands isn’t a good thing—”
“It is more important to establish yourself and your wife in the neighborhood. Securing your standing is critical to your future success, and with the rumors surrounding your marriage, spending more time on social calls and parties isn’t merely lazing about but good sense.”
Eddie straightened. “What rumors?”
Father stilled, his mind seeming to whirl silently, but when his son prodded him again, he said with a sigh, “People are speculating about your marriage and claiming there is something amiss—which is ridiculous, of course—but spending more time with her in public would help to quash the naysayers.”
A chill swept over him, and Eddie’s pulse quickened; the only thing keeping him from descending into a full bout of worry was the dismissive manner in which Father spoke. And though Mother’s comments hadn’t been entirely uplifting before, he considered them anew and felt confident that she placed little value on the gossip.
“There is wisdom in that, but it’s not as though I need to do one or the other,” insisted Eddie. “Even a few more patients would be a blessing.”
“I am glad you are eager, son, but I think it is best to wait,” said Father with a sharp nod of the head—the one that usually concluded a debate.
And for the first time in some time, Eddie opened his mouth to argue. But what could he say to convince his father? If all these years of work hadn’t done that, what words would gain his father’s trust?
It wasn’t as though he was putting the fellow to pasture. His experience and knowledge were valuable things that Eddie would continue to rely upon—to say nothing of the fact that there were times when more than one physician was required.
Yet Father insisted on letting things remain as they were.
Rising to his feet, Eddie brushed off his trousers. “I fear I’ve tarried too long—”
“You’ve only just arrived, and I haven’t seen you in ages,” said Father with a frown. “Can we not talk for a little longer? I find myself with time on my hands at present and would love to hear more about that book you brought back from London. It sounds fascinating.”
Eddie inched toward the door with a strained smile. “I will lend it to you if you wish, but as you said, I need to do what I can to quash the rumors circulating, and Joanna is entertaining at present. I ought to make an appearance and show a united front.”
“But—”
Before the gentleman could say another word, Eddie slipped away, hurrying down the corridor and out the front door.
Coward.
The word haunted his steps as he hurried down the lane. Hawthorne House wasn’t far from the Sweets’ tailor shop, but there was time enough for Eddie to thoroughly curse himself. In all his life, he hadn’t thought of himself as timid or fretful, yet Joanna’s assertions had just been proven so thoroughly that he couldn’t deny that he shared his wife’s weakness for kowtowing. Hers manifested differently than his, but the result was the same, and Eddie scowled at himself for it.