Chapter 13
D espite Miss Templeton’s apt description of how bleak an assembly could be by the end, this had been one of the most enjoyable social outings Arthur had experienced in some time. Yes, the room was stifling—both from the heat and stench of the candles and guests. And his ears rang from the constant thrum of conversations. And his feet ached, longing for a chair. To say nothing of the bone-deep desire to cast off his frockcoat and tug off his cravat.
But those feelings were nothing out of the ordinary.
The assembly might’ve boasted numerous attendees, but it still felt like an intimate evening. And the townsfolk were so welcoming. In London, Arthur was merely another of the Vaughn boys but without Franklin’s prestige or Terrance’s swaggering appeal. A rather unimportant person in his own right.
Yet for all those blessings, he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease as he followed the Finches in bidding farewell to the master of ceremonies.
His gaze drifted over the faces of those who remained, but no matter how many times he tried to conjure Miss Templeton, he had to admit that she had left already. Had he offended her by asking for a second set? He didn’t think so, as she had willingly accepted and the vast majority of the dance had been utterly enjoyable with easy conversation and lively debate; Miss Templeton had spoken to him like an equal, sharing in the discussion with a matching eagerness.
But then, she’d run off when the music had ended. Perhaps she’d required a chamber pot. Heaven knew Arthur had been forced into abrupt departures before, for one did not always realize it was needed until after the dance began, and some of the sets lasted an inordinate amount of time. To say nothing of the hopping and bouncing about that did nothing to improve matters.
Yet Miss Templeton hadn’t looked happy when she’d stood up with Finch afterward, and though she’d been quite actively engaged in conversation the rest of the evening, there was something about the situation that gave Arthur an uneasy feeling. His thoughts drifted through the evening, bringing up every moment he’d shared with Miss Templeton. Surely, he hadn’t done something to sour her feelings toward him. He hoped not.
Those thoughts drifted away as the party squeezed together into the carriage; though spacious, it wasn’t designed for six. Thankfully, Finch and the ladies were of a slender build, which helped matters some, but a heavy feeling settled into the carriage that had nothing to do with the tightness of the confines and only added to the discomfort.
During the ride to Bentmoor, Finch’s wife had happily cozied up to his side, but now, she sat with the other ladies, her arms crossed tight against her chest with her gaze turned to the window in a posture that signaled her displeasure far better than words. The rest of the Finches all feigned ignorance, attempting light conversation, though their fidgeting testified that they felt the tension as well.
“Felicity,” whispered Finch, leaning forward, but his wife drew in a sharp breath.
“No,” she snapped .
“Miss Templeton spoke to you,” he muttered.
The elder Mr. Finch raised his voice to speak to his wife, and the pair engaged their daughter in conversation about the goings-on of the assembly and how their three sons would soon join them when the school term ended. Though it was polite to ignore the spat between spouses, Arthur couldn't do so while pressed up against Finch’s side. Or so he told himself, but the truth was that he found it impossible to ignore any mention of Miss Templeton.
“She didn’t have to, Lewis. I was bound to discover the truth, so why didn’t you tell me when you introduced us, instead of allowing me to think Dr. Vaughn was simply passing through Oakham for a visit?” asked Mrs. Finch shooting her husband a narrowed look.
“I never said that. You assumed that on your own, and I didn’t correct you.”
Mrs. Finch’s brows rose, and Arthur longed to warn Finch that he was treading on dangerous ground, but doing so would place himself firmly in the lady’s sights.
“And you did so because you knew I would be angry with you,” she said with a scowl.
Finch huffed. “I did nothing wrong—”
“You’d best ask Dr. Vaughn his feelings on the matter before you claim such a thing, Lewis Finch.”
At that, Arthur’s gaze flew to his friend and the fractious wife sitting opposite. “What do I have to do with this?”
Mrs. Finch straightened and sent her husband a challenging raise of her brow. “Yes, Lewis. Tell Dr. Vaughn what you’ve done, as you didn’t see fit to tell anyone it impacted.”
“Out with it, Finch,” said Arthur, and his friend tried to shift in place, though he only managed a slight movement before giving up.
“I did what I had to for my family,” replied Finch.
“What is going on?” demanded Arthur .
Drawing in a sharp breath, Finch didn’t look at Arthur as he said, “When I wrote that Oakham needed a physician, I neglected to tell you that there is one in town—”
“What?” said Arthur in a hard tone.
“We require a physician,” said Finch with a scowl. “Isaac Templeton is lazy through and through, and I wouldn’t trust him to care for my horses, let alone my family.”
The air fled from Arthur’s lungs as the last sennight snapped into place. It was as though he’d been working through a puzzle upside-down, and now the world had righted itself, allowing him to see that which he hadn’t been able to comprehend.
Lifting a hand, Arthur scrubbed at his face as he recalled their final conversation. No wonder Miss Templeton had left in a rush. He’d insulted her brother and her family without realizing it.
“What were you thinking, Lewis?” asked Mrs. Finch, throwing her arms wide (then instantly snapping them back in place when she hit her sister-in-law). “Vi is my friend, and she depends on her brother’s income. Whatever his faults, we all know she is the one managing things, and Vi is brilliant with medicines. Far better than Oakham deserves. To bring someone else here will ruin her.”
Turning her gaze to Arthur, Mrs. Finch’s brows pinched together. “I mean no disrespect to you, Dr. Vaughn. I am certain you are a wonderful doctor, but to know that my husband lured you here…”
“No offense taken, Mrs. Finch,” said Arthur with a dismissive shake of his head. “Had I known, I would never have come. I wanted to find a place that required a doctor—”
“We do,” said Finch.
“And force the Templetons out?” asked Mrs. Finch with a scoff. “How can you be so heartless?”
“No.” Finch’s sharp voice caused his family to pause in their conversation and glance in his direction before studiously returning to their discussion. Silence descended upon the other three as Finch sat there, his eyes holding his wife’s firmly. “I will not allow any consideration for the Templetons to place you in harm’s way. Your family was killed whilst under the previous Mr. Templeton’s care—”
“It was smallpox,” said Mrs. Finch as her hand rose to brush along the edge of her jaw where the scars remained. “Even the best of physicians can do little against it.”
“True, but any formally trained physician would’ve inoculated you long before it struck the village,” said Finch. “Mr. Templeton, with his homespun ways, left you all without any protection against it. Even now, they have a vaccine that is proven to prevent it, but I would be willing to wager the Templetons have never heard of it, let alone know how to acquire and administer it.”
Arthur’s brows rose. Protecting against that insidious—and preventable—disease was such an accepted practice that it hadn’t occurred to him Oakham might not be protected. How much of the country remained vulnerable to it? Learning from one’s father was far more commonplace than attending a proper medical school, and until it was legally required, most physicians, surgeons, and apothecaries would be trained by other country practitioners, who were only as educated as the previous generation and their own experience.
“Most do not have access to such things, and we do not live in Plymouth or London or any place that warrants the best doctors, Lewis,” said his wife with a sigh. “The Templetons do a fine job at caring for the townsfolk. Would we repay that service by running them out of town?”
“I am truly and deeply sorry that she will be impacted by this, but I knew of a properly trained physician who wished to settle in a town like Oakham, and I wasn’t going to squander the opportunity. I will not risk you or my child simply to be polite,” said Finch, his voice rising in volume with each word.
A panicked edge tinged the words. For all that he was a gentleman of the world, he didn’t brush aside the emotion as he continued, “I only just found you, Felicity. I cannot bear to lose you. It will break me.”
For all that the conversation had been pertinent to him, Arthur now feigned deafness as he turned his attention away from his friend in his vulnerable moment. But he couldn’t ignore the pleading in Finch’s tone and the abject fear that tinged every syllable. It was the sound of love. Of need. Not in the physical sense that so many mistook for love, but a bone-deep longing for another’s heart and soul. To have them forever at one’s side.
Arthur’s own heart burned in empathy at the declaration, and though he didn’t dare look to see Mrs. Finch’s reaction to it, the weight in the air shifted, lightening enough that the others in the carriage relaxed into the squabs once more (or as much as was possible in the close confines).
“I didn’t know this scared you so, Lewis,” she whispered.
This time when her husband reached for her, Mrs. Finch took his hands in hers.
“I am still angry with you, though. You ought to have told me from the beginning,” she added.
“I know, but I will say the same thing I said to Miss Templeton,” replied Finch. “There was no way to broach the subject without causing trouble, and I wasn’t going to leave it alone to placate anyone. I knew you would fight me on it, and I will not allow anyone to stand between me and what I must do to protect you and my child. Everyone knows Miss Templeton is the driving force behind her brother’s medical practice, and though she does her best, I want better for you.”
“And what of Dr. Vaughn?” asked Mrs. Finch, drawing him back into the conversation. Though it was dark in the carriage, the glimmer of the carriage lamp caught a few glimmers on her cheeks, which she brushed away.
“Though I understand your reasons, Finch, I cannot say that I forgive you for misleading me,” said Arthur. “I came here looking for a new start, and even if I do secure my position, it will be done at the cost of a family who has been a staple of this community. Miss Templeton’s skills serve Oakham’s needs, and it is cruel to force her and her family out.”
Arthur nearly stumbled at her name, for if he were to be entirely honest at that moment, it was she who occupied the majority of his concern.
“I didn’t mean to mislead you,” said Finch with a shake of his head. “I truly didn’t. I knew you wished to move to the country, but I hadn’t realized it was because you wished to avoid the competition in the city.”
Arthur’s brows rose. “I spoke to you about it.”
But Finch shook his head more firmly. “You never mentioned anything of the sort. You said you wanted a quieter life—”
“Without the cutthroat competition, Finch.”
“You do not—” began Finch, but his wife hushed him.
“Not now. He is angry, and he has every right to be,” she said. “Let it be.”
Which was far easier said than done, positioned as they were. If not for the fact that their destination was still miles away, Arthur would’ve preferred to walk. The only comfort to be found was that Mrs. Finch set about distracting the others from Arthur, allowing him to consider the problem.
His success meant harming Miss Templeton’s family. The thought made his stomach twist in a way that had him longing for a cup of ginger tea, even if he knew it would do little to help the situation. It may do wonders in settling a troubled stomach, but it couldn’t soothe the troubled heart that caused it.
To leave Oakham would mean losing Miss Templeton. To stay would make her hate him.