Chapter 6
That Sunday, Anne again attended church.
Miss Newland was still unable to walk, so Anne sat with Charlotte’s friend Ursula Birt once more.
Waiting for the service to start, Anne admired the lofty nave with its arched arcades, sunny lancet windows, and many memorial plaques.
The pupils from the charity school were sitting high in the gallery at one end.
And there, near the front, Colonel Paine, now dressed in civilian clothing, was sitting with Miss Fitzjohn in the family box.
Anne also saw Dr. Marsland in attendance, but not his younger partner.
Did Dr. Finch never attend, she wondered, or was he busy with a patient?
She studied Dr. Marsland with interest. The forty-something physician was reasonably handsome, well-dressed, and well respected.
She was curious why he had never married and if he’d remained single by choice.
She noticed more than one lady try to catch his eye, but he did not seem to pay them any heed.
Following her gaze, Miss Birt leaned near and whispered, “Rumor has it he courted a woman in the past but was disappointed in love. As far as I know, he hasn’t shown interest in anyone else—except perhaps Lotty, although she insists they are only friends.
‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’”
The bells rang, the organist began his prelude, and they all stood for the processional hymn while the curate, Mr. Strong, entered wearing his vestments.
Anne did her best to shift her focus to the service as the parish clerk at the reading desk led the responses, and then the curate ascended the wooden double-decker pulpit to pray and give the sermon.
Afterward, she and Miss Birt walked to Yew Cottage for luncheon. Upon arriving, Anne learned Miss Lotty had invited Dr. Marsland and Dr. Finch as well. Anne suspected her old friend might be attempting some matchmaking—but for her . . . or for herself?
Anne offered to help Dinah in the kitchen. Before her father remarried, she had prepared many simple meals when their maid of all work had her half day off. And Anne was happy to help now, especially with guests expected to join them.
When they heard the knocker, Dinah scurried out to answer the door. Anne followed more sedately to greet the physicians.
Dr. Marsland handed Miss Lotty a coin. “Here you are. Another Roman coin for your collection. Found near Highfield Farm.”
“Oh! Thank you, Richard. How considerate.”
Ursula raised a brow and sent Anne a pointed look.
Anne greeted both doctors, then excused herself to return to her tasks.
From the pantry, where she stood arranging serving dishes on a tray, she could hear the others conversing in the adjacent dining room.
“You really ought to marry, Ernest,” Dr. Marsland said. “Patients have more confidence in a married man. And you’d not suffer so much unwanted attention from swooning females . . . or their mammas.”
“You are not married, sir,” Dr. Finch replied. “If that’s not impertinent to point out.”
“It is impertinent, but you’re right. Yet I am older and more established, so it is not such an issue.”
“Perhaps the attention of females is not onerous to Dr. Finch,” Miss Lotty suggested mildly.
“A wife would also serve to quell rumors,” Miss Birt added.
“Rumors?” the younger man asked, clearly uneasy.
Dr. Marsland said, “Yes, I am afraid rumors are already circulating around town.”
“What rumors?” Dr. Finch asked.
“Perhaps I should not specify. Not here and now.”
“Then I shall,” Ursula Birt replied, her tone matter-of-fact. “The rumor is, young women come to your house at all hours.”
About to push through the pantry door, Anne froze, stifling a gasp.
“What? That’s . . .” Dr. Finch huffed. “They must be referring to my housekeeper.”
“Mrs. Tufley is not young,” Dr. Marsland said.
“Her daughter is. Only twelve or so. She’s begun helping with . . . things . . . in the house as well.”
“Two servants! Patients will think you’re charging too much if you can afford two servants.”
“Hannah shares her mother’s room and tasks, so it’s only a trifle more.”
“Mark my words. Rumors and speculation will continue until you settle down—whether here or elsewhere.” A note of warning undergirded the older man’s tone.
“I appreciate your advice, sir. But there is no hurry. I am not yet thirty.”
Ursula offered, “I could draw up a list of potential candidates.”
“Ursula . . .” Miss Lotty admonished.
Not wanting the food to grow cold, Anne took a deep breath and pushed through the door with the tray.
Under her breath, Miss Birt said, “Speaking of candidates . . .”
Anne pretended not to hear. She kept her eye on the dishes she balanced. “Here we are.” As she placed the serving dishes on the table, she risked a glance at Ernest Finch and saw his reddened face.
Mercifully, when Anne took her seat, Ursula changed the subject. “So, Miss Anne, you have been at Painswick Court for about a week now. Have you seen the ghost?”
“Ursula, don’t,” Lotty warned.
“Why not? Many others have seen him.”
“Seen who?” Dr. Finch asked.
“King Charles the First. He is often seen around the grounds of Painswick Court.”
Ursula’s words stirred an old memory. Yes, Anne had heard such stories in the past. Jasper Paine and other lads had often told ghost stories in the graveyard, situated as it was directly adjacent to Painswick Court.
“I have not seen him, no,” Anne replied. “Except for a painting on the wall.”
“Well, don’t be shocked if you do!” Miss Birt turned to Dr. Finch.
“You may not know, being a newcomer, but King Charles stayed at Painswick Court after the Siege of Gloucester in 1643.
When he was later executed, his final words were ‘I shall go from a corruptible to an incorruptible crown, where no disturbance can be.’
“His ghost has been seen many times on the grounds, sometimes with his men. More than one person has heard the sound of clanking armor as the king’s ghostly cavaliers suited up for battle.”
Anne shuddered.
“Hush, Ursula. You’re scaring Anne.”
Dr. Finch gave a rueful grin. “You’re scaring me too.”
“It’s true! Oh, and have you been down to the cells yet?” Ursula waggled her eyebrows like an impish girl.
“What cells?” Dr. Finch asked.
“Did you not know? Painswick Court once housed a courtroom, with cells beneath to hold prisoners awaiting trial.”
Dr. Finch shook his head.
“Would not surprise me if the ghost spends time there as well. Seems the perfect place to haunt.”
Anne had heard rumors about prison cells, and they’d featured in some of Jasper’s stories, but she had not known if they were real or still existed.
“Come, now. That’s enough of that,” Miss Lotty insisted. “It is the Sabbath, after all.”
“I agree,” Dr. Marsland said. “And these two had better focus on more earthly concerns for now. Speaking of which . . .” He turned to Dr. Finch. “You will be calling on Lady Celia this afternoon, correct?”
“Yes. Planning to.”
“Good.”
After they had eaten, Dr. Marsland departed first. Dr. Finch retrieved his hat and turned to Anne. “Since I’ll be calling on Lady Celia this afternoon, I shall likely see you later.”
Anne nodded as he headed out the door and noticed Ursula and Lotty exchange knowing looks.
Soon after that, Ursula left as well. Anne remained at Yew Cottage long enough to help with the washing up and to chat with Miss Lotty for a time, just the two of them.
“Dr. Finch likes you, Anne,” Miss Lotty said. “That’s plain to see.”
Thinking of Rosa, Anne shrugged. “I don’t know. Besides, I’ve decided to remain single and devote my life to caring for others and good works, like you have.”
Lotty raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“May I ask,” Anne said, “were you ever tempted to marry?”
“Tempted? Heavens, no.”
There, see, Anne thought. I am not alone in choosing to avoid marriage.
Lotty went on, “How could I be tempted when I was never asked?”
“Oh.” Anne blinked. “That surprises me. You’re so pretty and kind and genteel.”
“Thank you, my dear.” Lotty grinned wryly. “Always did like you.”
“I thought you’d remained single by choice,” Anne said. “Determined to live a productive life on your own terms.”
“Gracious, no. You credit me with modern views and far more courage than I possess. I would have liked to marry. I would still consider it if . . . if someone I truly cared about proposed.”
Anne pressed her lips together, then prompted, “Like Dr. Marsland?”
Lotty chuckled awkwardly and began fiddling with the Roman coin. “You’ve been talking to Ursula, I see. She has taken it into her head to see romance in his kind attentions.” Lotty rubbed her thumb over the coin’s face. “But as I’ve often told her, we are just friends.”
Noticing the woman’s averted gaze and pink cheeks, Anne thought perhaps Ursula was right and the lady doth protest too much. “How long have you been acquainted with Dr. Marsland?”
“Oh, nearly fifteen years now. After Oxford, he practiced in Nailsworth for a time with an older man before establishing himself here. He arrived not long after my father died, while I was nursing my mother through her final illness. He was kindness itself to Mamma during those difficult days, and kind to me as well. We have been friends ever since. There was a time several years ago I thought . . .” Lotty shook her head.
“Then he . . . withdrew somewhat. Let me know—subtly—that he was courting someone. He didn’t—wouldn’t—say who, for all of Ursula’s wheedling.
“We didn’t see much of him for a time, but then he started calling again. I could see he was depressed. She had clearly turned him down, whoever she was. I knew then that I could not compete with her memory. Yet I would be his friend and offer what consolation and companionship I could.
“Ursula thinks he has renewed his interest in me now.” Another shake of her head. “I don’t believe he has. Not . . . romantically speaking. In either case, I value Richard’s friendship. And while it isn’t romance, friendship is worth a great deal.”