Chapter 11 #2
“It is a needed profession,” she said. “I am glad you have chosen it. How did you come about your decision to study medicine?”
James would not admit how long it had taken him to recover from his broken heart—that he had wandered from city to city on the Continent without any real interest. He told her truthfully instead about the bathing towns he had visited in Italy and Germany and the cures there, explaining how this piqued his interest to study at Edinburgh.
It was considered to be more advanced than any teaching hospital in London or Paris.
“That led to my meeting with Mr. Vroomen,” he continued, “who urged me to accompany him to Spa last year. I had already written several papers on the properties of thermal waters and their healing, so it was natural I would enjoy practicing here.” He smiled, proud of his years of study and the skill that had been forged.
“How well done of you,” she exclaimed with a smile that reached her eyes, only for it to fall with her next reflection.
She turned worried eyes to him. “I do hope Mr. Hughes will guide Papa well. If I find anything unusual in his recommendations, I hope you will not mind if I consult with you for a second opinion.”
“I would be very willing to help. Of course, your father must consent to it before I can step in.”
She murmured her agreement, then after a pause, gave a brief curtsy and went to join her family.
It was a novel thing to have his medical expertise accepted without question.
He was simply not yet well-known in the field and was still regarded with a degree of mistrust. Her approval sent a surge of comfort through him.
The sensation wasn’t the same as the frantic efforts to win Isabel’s heart and secure his place in Spa society.
This was something more familiar, like wearing boots that had been worn in.
The connection between them established so many years ago was proving too strong to be broken, although it could never be what it was.
He brought his attention back to his surroundings. Miss Bainesworth had disappeared, and Morry’s conversation with Mr. Bridwell had come to a natural conclusion.
“We are agreed, then,” Isabel called out to Lambert before coming back to James’s side. “Shall we walk together, dearest?”
“With pleasure,” he replied, although the words stuck in his throat. He bowed to the Bridwells and Morry, his eyes lingering on Amy for a second longer before he turned.
Her gaze seemed to burn into his back, as though he were being unfaithful.
The notion made no sense given the circumstances, but it magnified the feeling that he was taking an egregious misstep in life.
Where had the feelings gone that he’d thought to have had for Isabel?
She had seemed warmer and more sincere before Amy arrived, but now the comparison did not work in her favor.
What could he do, though? A gentleman could not simply break off an engagement and thereby plunge a woman’s name into scandal.
And even if he were a rogue—which he was not—a man also needed something to live on, and that would come from Mr. Prexley’s patients.
There was but one course open to him, and it was to marry the woman to whom he had proposed.
“What chance that we have met today,” Isabel declared, her steps mincing at his side and the skirt of her gown brushing against his legs.
“I wished to tell you about this necklace I saw at Dubovski’s.
It is made of gold, charmingly fashioned into a lace of flowers made of sapphires and diamonds.
It would perfectly match the pin I wish you would buy.
I like it excessively and thought you might offer it to me as a wedding gift. ”
James was bereft of speech. What of the pearl-and-sapphire necklace he had just purchased? Of course, she did not know he had purchased it, along with the pin. But she wished for diamonds and sapphires when he had merely bought pearls with one small sapphire pendant. Would it be enough?
In the seconds that ticked by, he wrestled with himself, trying to defend her behavior.
It was perfectly natural for a woman to expect a wedding gift from her betrothed.
Surely once she saw the pearl necklace he had bought for her—without her asking—she would give up on wishing for the other one.
Still, he could not help but attempt to reason with her, for if he did not, this sort of behavior would continue throughout their marriage.
He must be firm with her from the offset.
“Isabel, you know very well I do not currently have income enough to support us and am relying on the patients your father will pass on to me when he retires, along with my hopes for the Tonnelet baths to succeed. And allow me to remind you that I have only an expectation of an inheritance that will come to me. It is by no means certain.” He placed his hand over hers and patted it, despising himself for such a fatherly gesture.
“What that means is that, at present, I have very little to live on. You knew that when you accepted my suit.”
“But you will have it one day. And since my father verified the terms of the will, it sounds to me a very sure thing. Have you written to your great-aunt again?” When he hesitated, she pulled away from him and stamped one foot.
“Oh, how long must that woman live? Why is she still hanging on to life?”
James stared at her, his eyes wide. When Isabel caught sight of his expression, she frowned, then covered it with a laugh. “You know I was only jesting. How could I truly mean such a thing?”
“No, how could you?” he parroted coldly. He was not particularly close to his great-aunt, but he could not wish her life to be at an end just so he might gain her wealth.
“Although,” Isabel added, “you must own that it is a hardship for us not to have any of that money when we need it.”
James was too weary to take her to task again for this. He offered his arm, and they walked on in silence. There was no longer anyone in sight, and the gardens must close at any moment. It was time to offer her the necklace he had bought, but difficult to summon any enthusiasm for it.
He steered her over to a stone bench on the path. “Let us sit for a moment.”
“But it is cold.” When her pouting failed to move him, Isabel complied. She turned on the bench to face him, and her gasp revealed that she had noticed his pin for the first time. His cloak had fallen open, spoiling the surprise.
“You purchased the pin. Do you see how well it looks on you? I was very right to urge you to it.” She stopped and frowned. “But you are not wearing your wig today. Why ever not? It would set the blue off admirably.”
It was the oddest thing, but the wig that he had adopted to please Isabel seemed even more objectionable now that he knew he might run into Amy at any moment.
She had not known him with it before, and he had a strange urge to be the old James for her.
He pivoted on the cold bench to face Isabel and noticed the gold necklace she wore, idly wondering where she had got it.
She had never worn it in his presence, and her father did not seem the type to offer his daughter jewelry. That brought him to his purpose.
“It is not only the pin I have purchased,” he said, reaching into the inside pocket of his coat. “There is also this.”
He delivered a flat square box into her hands, and her eyes gleamed as she opened it. The inside of the box had been padded with a white silk velvet, and on its folds rested the pearl collar with the sapphire pendant. It looked smaller than it had when he was in the shop.
“Oh, how lovely. What a surprise you’ve given me.” She handed him the necklace and turned so he might tie its white silk ribbons around her neck. “Remove my other pendant if you please.” He did so and handed it to her.
In Venice, he had once bought a necklace that reminded him of Amy, convinced afterward he had only done it to torture himself since he would never give it to her.
It was made of amber, topaz, and a thin gold chain—nothing like this jewelry in terms of value.
He had kept it all these years but did not know what he would do with it. It did not become Isabel in the least.
She turned to him, her face glowing, the necklace becoming against her pale skin. James felt nothing.
“You should button your cloak,” he told her, coming to his feet.
She ignored him and stood, lifting her powdered face up to him. “For such a gift you may kiss me.”
He bent down and touched his lips to hers, then straightened.
Her brows formed a V as she set her arms akimbo. “What kind of a kiss is that? I hope you will have more passion in you when we are married.”