Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

R obert stared at his reflection in the broken mirror, tying himself a modest cravat. He wasn’t the most fashionable of men, but his wardrobe was certainly good enough for a country dinner with friends. The Nichols family had insisted on hosting them, and Robert did not want to seem too eager, nor did he want to give the impression he did not care.

Little footsteps sounded in his doorway and Robert turned to find Tim, nearly ready himself in his trousers and waistcoat, except for the lapel he kept tugging at. The sight made Robert smile, and he urged his son closer. “Come here, my boy. Let me help you with that collar.”

Tim stepped inside silently as ever, only his hip gently bumped against the side table which held Robert’s correspondences, and all the recent letters tumbled to the floor.

Even though he still did not speak, the look of dejection on Tim’s face with a furrowed brow and a deep frown was apology enough. Robert simply patted him on the back, and said, “Don’t worry yourself, son. It’s just the post.”

Together they picked up the folded papers and placed them back on the side table, then Robert moved to arrange the boy’s necktie properly. Mrs. Rosemont helped the children get ready most mornings, but on days like Sundays, Tim would hint that she fixed his collar a smidge too tight. It had become a little tradition of theirs that Tim would come to Robert before church to alleviate the tightness. It wasn’t a Sunday on this occasion, but it was moments like this that gave Robert reason to hang on to hope. His son might not have the ability to speak his mind just yet, but at least Tim trusted his father. And someday he would find his voice again.

Tim smiled once the collar was fixed and hurried downstairs, leaving Robert alone to finish his preparations. His eyes fell to the letters, recently arrived from his school friends. James, Alfred, and Daniel had been there for all the formative years of his life, and he was grateful that they all still kept in touch, sending Christmas letters every year. Only now their updates included that of their blissful state as married men. Robert had been the first of his mates to marry and he remembered well that portion of his life. But it had faded all too soon, and now that the entire village was pushing him to marry, he wondered what it would be like to marry again.

His mind should have immediately shifted to Miss Alice, for it was the hope and expectation of many, especially after the dinner they were to attend, but instead, he thought of Caroline and her request for his trust. There would be no future for them together, despite all the past they shared, or even because of it. No matter that they had talked of being man and wife, no matter that she was the one he had wanted to marry for so long. From now on, Robert would only have her at a distance, as a friend if he could manage it, and then, only until Boxing Day. After that, she would likely leave, and he would never see her again.

Shaking his head, Robert made his way downstairs to find Mrs. Rosemont and his children ready and waiting for him. They stepped out into the chilly evening and walked down the lane to the Nichols home, wondering aloud when the snow would come this year.

Once they were welcomed inside, Robert immediately spotted Miss Alice and made sure to greet her and smile at her. He ought to pursue her, for she was lovely and kind. Perhaps affection would come later. Yet he already knew what that sort of marriage was like. Would he have to settle for that all over again? There wasn’t anything wrong with it, for such ways suited many very well. But he still found himself wanting more.

Despite the tension hanging over Robert’s head, the dinner had been excellent. The food was delicious, and the conversation was delightful. The Nichols grandchildren were all older than Robert’s children, but they seemed to blend together well enough for entertaining company. Tim’s lack of speaking did not detract from his charming nature, and many were still taken by his antics, while the older girls were delighted with Martha enough to take her under their wing. The eldest, Miss Alice, had been seated directly next to Robert, and though she said little, she was a pleasant and peaceful dinner companion, which is likely just as her grandmother wished.

“And how fare your other patients, Mr. Cratchit?” Mr. Nichols asked. “My mother tells me there are quite a few in this village or the next that need much assistance, either from you or the church donation fund.”

Robert nodded in response. “Yes, there are many in need in Hamstead, and I do my best to visit as many as I can. Thankfully, many of my patients are making progress, which provides the most relief I find in my profession, to see them on the road to fully recover.” And his heart always broke over the ones who didn’t.

“Indeed,” said the elder Mrs. Nichols. “Have you ever had a patient who was lame? Someone who occupied a bath chair?”

“I can’t say that I have, no.”

“Well, I heard tell that the Duke of Rothes is returning to town. You remember that grouchy old duke who owns Edgewood Estate?”

Robert stiffened. The nobleman who had purchased Caroline’s old home had only returned to Hamstead once or twice since then. But the fact that he had been just the same sort of man as its previous occupant, meaning Caroline’s father, Ebenezer Scrooge, was not lost on him.

“He is a cripple, I believe, and lives most of his life in a bath chair,” Mrs. Nichols went on. “Has he never called on you for assistance?”

Robert shook his head. “I believe he has doctors of his own, specialists who are well familiar with him and his condition. I would be happy to help him should he request it, but I might not be as well trained for his needs.”

Mrs. Nichols waved her hand dismissively. “No matter, he never stays long. He simply comes one Sunday to church, as if to look down on us all, then he’s off again. And good riddance to him. If we’re lucky, he’ll leave and take Mrs. Marley with him.”

The room grew quiet at the declaration. Pressing his lips together, Robert looked around the room and found Mrs. Rosemont looking down at her plate silently as well. On any other day, Robert would have nodded to firmly agree. But his last conversation with Caroline still lingered in his mind, her begging for his trust following an invitation to her own dinner, and the seat that had been comfortable all throughout this meal suddenly made him shift with unease.

“Mother, you shouldn’t speak so,” said Mr. Nichols.

“I will speak as I see fit. Mr. Scrooge was a terrible man and cruel miser, and it seems that his daughter is no different. Now Mrs. Marley returns after her aunt’s death only to inherit. She will not be throwing the same Christmas party her aunt always did, and I heard she will be leaving before Twelfth Night anyway, so this old duke might be her best chance at company that would suit her.”

Robert wished he could, but he could not defend her in that.

“Grandmother, we ought not speak ill of anyone, especially someone we don’t personally know,” said Miss Alice, “As I’m certain we would not want anyone to discuss our family relationships or circumstances the same way.”

Mrs. Nichols pursed her lips and straightened in her seat but had no response.

“Perhaps we can discuss more pleasant subjects,” Miss Alice went on. “Such as what our own Christmas plans will be.”

Robert’s shoulders relaxed in obvious relief as the conversation faded to other topics. Everyone was joyfully discussing the upcoming holidays, and there was enough discussion that he did not feel the need to include himself. It was enough of a reprieve to consider more on Caroline’s words, and why he even felt the need to defend her. He, of all people, had reason to despise her, to believe the worst of her, to dismiss her and want her gone. And yet, something in her voice, in the way she had humbled herself and sought supplication, it gave him pause and reason to seriously consider her request.

In all his years, he had never seen her so remorseful. The girl he had known never would have lowered herself to the point of an apology, to the extent of begging to be the friend of a lowly doctor. He never expected to witness such a thing.

He felt his argument was reasonable, that a friendship between them would do neither of them any favors. But the smallest change in her deserved recognition, a moment’s respect, and honest consideration. He didn’t know how much he would be able to give her, so he would proceed with caution, for Robert had more to protect now than just his heart.

After tea and dessert, Tim had fallen asleep by the fire, and the granddaughters younger than Miss Alice were still doting on Martha as they cleared the table.

“Won’t you stay for a dance or two?” Mrs. Nichols begged.

Robert could tell what she was doing, trying to give him a moment more to enjoy Miss Alice’s company. He knew he ought to give her a chance as well. He cast his eyes to Mrs. Rosemont, ever conscious of those in his care.

“I wouldn’t mind staying to watch the young people dance,” she said with a bright smile, clearly not tired enough to retire yet.

“Excellent,” said Mr. Nichols. “There’s no pianoforte, but I brought my fiddle for just such an occasion.”

The rest of them cheered, then hurried to move the chairs from the middle of the room to make space for the dancing.

When Miss Alice came to clear his dishes from the table, he leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “I must thank you for diverting the conversation earlier.”

She did not ask him what he meant and smiled in return. “I love my family, and though they mean well, they sometimes let their mouths run away with their feelings. Normally they are not prone to gossip, though I think the abnormal situation has left them out of sorts.”

“Of course, I understand.” Robert nodded. “Still, I appreciate the assistance. I did not want to ruin the dinner with a disagreement, but I could not abide a conversation about a woman who…” Robert swallowed, choosing his words carefully. What was she? “Despite her current stance on things, Mrs. Marley is a longstanding friend of mine.”

Miss Alice nodded. “Think nothing of it. After all you have done for my grandmother, sir, the last thing I would want is for you to feel uncomfortable or unwanted.”

The last word hung between them, but it was not awkward. They had found a mutual appreciation for each other. When she bobbed a curtsy and went on with clearing the table, Robert decided that it would not be a struggle for him to ask Miss Alice for a dance.