Chapter Twenty-Five
P
Arabella and Mater were elbow deep in plans to improve the dower house’s back garden. They walked its environs every day and had quickly discovered an unfortunate lack of shade trees and fragrant flowers. Philip had happily granted his mother full reign over her new dominion.
Mrs. Hill, the housekeeper, maid, and general servant at the dower house hurried into the sitting room and announced, “Dr. Scorseby to visit the both of you.”
“The both of us?” Mater asked with a laugh.
Heat warmed Arabella’s face. She knew perfectly well the local physician came to visit her, Mater having been faithfully following his advice of a few weeks earlier and, as a result, not at all in need of his attention.
Arabella had no real experience with suitors and could not say with any certainty quite how she felt toward him.
She enjoyed his company and, generally speaking, looked forward to their conversations.
But she experienced none of the contentment and ease she’d known with Linus.
She also felt no flutterings inside or surges of anticipation at seeing him again.
She didn’t miss the doctor between his visits, but she’d missed Linus every day since he’d left for Shropshire. Her attachment to him was hopeless and one-sided, but it was real just the same.
Arabella firmly told herself to keep her mind on the present rather than losing herself in the past.
Dr. Scorseby offered a very proper bow upon arriving. Mater invited him to sit.
“How kind of you to visit us,” Mater said. “What brings you around?” Mischief filled her eyes and tone.
Dr. Scorseby answered seriously. “I came to the Park to look in on Lady Lampton.”
“How is she?” Mater’s expression transformed to one of concern.
“All appears to be well,” Dr. Scorseby said. “She is in good spirits, which is always beneficial.” He turned to Arabella. “I had a very pleasant visit with your aunt and uncle yesterday. They seem quite pleased about your situation here.”
She knew she was meant to say something in response. They were her family, after all. Yet she knew precisely why they were happy about her position. Theirs was not happiness for her at all but rather for themselves.
He nodded. “I found them to be in generally good health.”
“And I find myself generally pleased,” she said drily.
Only when Mater choked on a held-back laugh did Arabella realize how impolite her remark had been. Thoughts of her relatives’ selfishness had pricked at her, and she had allowed the resultant annoyance to loosen her tongue inadvisably.
“Forgive me,” she said. “I’m not certain what has come over me.”
His features assumed the expression she had come to think of as his physician’s face. “Are you feeling feverish? Faint? How have you been sleeping?”
Ever the man of medicine. Still, his questions offered her a way out of the increasingly embarrassing situation.
“I have not slept as well as I would have liked the past week or so. I have a lingering cough.” It was true, no matter that she didn’t believe exhaustion was the reason for her momentary lack of manners.
“Coughs can be very persistent.” Dr. Scorseby said.
A knock at the front door reverberated throughout the dower house.
“Good heavens,” Mater said. “Whoever that is knocking sounds likely to pound the door down.” She rose and crossed to the window, eyeing the front door. “It is Bill from the stables.”
They all turned to watch the sitting room door. A moment later, it opened, Mrs. Hill letting Bill in. His face was splotched with frantic color. His widened eyes searched, then found Mater. What had happened? The room held its collective breath.
“Ma’am,” Bill said, a touch out of breath. “Word’s come from Shropshire. Young Charlie’s had an accident.”