Chapter 27

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

Kathryn

" O h God, I am not ready for this," Kathryn whispered as the carriage came to a halt.

She thought her heart would be lifted to see her home again. It was as beautiful as ever, with ivy around the door and the grand estate stretching beyond the walls. The formal gardens could be glimpsed from her position, the white roses shining in the afternoon sunlight. She could even see her father at a distance, Horatio, as he walked the grounds with his steward and his two dogs.

When the carriage halted, Horatio stopped too and turned to look at the carriage, his happy smile slipping to a frown.

They hadn't yet been told of her return. Instead, Kathryn brought a letter in her grasp, one she was to give to her mother to read.

Kathryn hurried down out of the carriage, dropping her feet to the drive. When Horatio saw her, he smiled once again. He left the two dogs with his steward and ran across the open ground.

"Kathryn!" he called happily. When he reached her, Kathryn dropped both her reticule and her cousin's letter, grasping for her father in a keen embrace. "Ah, how I have missed you." He held her tightly and rested his cheek on her forehead. "How are you, my child?"

Kathryn couldn't find her voice. There was something so warm, so comforting about being in her father's arms after such heartache, that she simply held onto him tighter. Horatio laughed and rocked her from side to side in their embrace, in a way he hadn't done for a few years now, since she was a child.

"Yes, I can see you missed me too."

When her breath hitched, he pulled back from the embrace and took her shoulders.

"What is it, Kathryn? What has happened?"

Kathryn couldn't form words. Her eyes filled with tears. When the vision of her father became blurred, Horatio gave her comfort in a way that only a parent could. He hugged her again and she clung onto him, burying herself and trying to hide in that embrace.

"Horatio? Who is it?" Clara's voice came from the doorway. "Kathryn!" With sudden excitement, Clara ran out of the house.

Kathryn lifted her head enough to peer at her mother, though she held her breath, fearing what would come next. Her mother would be so disappointed when she read Georgiana's letters. It was what Kathryn had tried to do for so long, please her mother, rather than be a disappointment to her. Yet she had failed in that task.

My mother will despair of me for this. I am not the fine daughter I should be.

Fearing the sadness that would come, Kathryn turned and embraced her mother next, wanting that moment of love before it disappeared into disappointment. Clara held her back tightly, whispering how she had missed her. Still, Kathryn said nothing, though she saw out of the corner of her eye that her father found the letter on the floor. He lifted it slowly and passed it to Clara when he saw it was addressed to his wife.

"Perhaps this will explain why our daughter is struggling for words."

Clara took the letter and released Kathryn.

Fearing what would come next, Kathryn allowed her father to take her hand and steer her into the house. She didn't dare look back at her mother as she read Georgiana's letter. Instead, she sat in the sitting room, where her father poured her tea and dropped freshly baked bread into her lap, slathered with butter.

"You must be tired after your journey. Eat, Kathryn. Get your strength back." He urged, sitting down beside her.

Kathryn took the smallest of nibbles of the bread, struggling to control her breathing as another tear slipped down her cheek.

"You need to read this, Horatio." Clara entered the room. Her whole body was rigid and stiff as the letter hung from her forefinger and thumb, as if she was disgusted to be touching it.

Kathryn closed her eyes tight and hung her head, hating to see her mother's reaction.

"What is it?" Horatio must have taken the letter, for all fell silent.

Clara sat down beside Kathryn. She waited for the admonishment, the reprimand that was to come, but nothing happened. Instead, Clara touched Kathryn's hand on the plate, and Kathryn's eyes shot open.

"Tell me the truth now, my love," Clara whispered. "Were you hurt in anyway? Did this doctor act inappropriately toward you? If so, I can understand why you would not wish to tell our cousin, but you know you can always tell me anything."

"What? No." Kathryn shook her head. As Horatio lowered the letter, looking dumbstruck at the revelations inside it, Kathryn sought to explain herself as quickly as she could, her sentences running together until they sounded completely jumbled. "Doctor Beille and I saw one another so he could help me learn about healing. That was all. Yes, he is an interesting man, but nothing inappropriate ever happened." She shook her head fervently. "He was teaching me, that is all. I have copious notes and books from him to prove it."

"You wished to learn, Kathryn?" Horatio asked, slowly sitting down again. "Why?"

"Because maybe I wanted something more to life than just marrying and serving tea for my friends." She waved down at the tea tray, watching as her mother flinched beside her. "I mean…there's nothing wrong with that life. I just wished to do something more. To hear what Arabella did, oh, my heart beats with excitement to think of it. In London, I met so many women who have had careers and passions, something more to their lives. Was it so wrong to want something like that too for myself?"

She looked between her mother and father. To her surprise, Horatio was smiling rather sadly. He shook his head.

"There is nothing wrong with the want," he whispered softly.

"Yet what your father is nervous to say, is that the way you went about it is the worry." Clara reached forward, with her body suddenly animated. "What if this man wasn't trustworthy after all? Not all men are. Many men would have taken advantage of such a situation." Her hand shook in the air as she waved it madly. "Goodness, Kathryn. You put yourself in such danger."

"There was no danger," Kathryn insisted, shaking her head. "He is a good man."

"That is almost unimportant now, regardless," Clara continued on, clearly caught up in her own thoughts. "The gossip is the problem now. I am grateful to Lady Georgiana for taking action. Dividing the two of you was best."

Kathryn slumped back in her chair. The prospect of never seeing Doctor Beille again stung hard. Tears pricked her eyes once more, as she thought of the last moment that she had seen him, waving to him as he climbed into his carriage. The rather formal bow he had given on departure had hurt more than Lady Georgiana's words. It was as if nothing intimate had ever passed between them when he bowed.

It is all gone now. Everything. Like sand through my fingers, I cannot get it back.

Kathryn felt another hand on hers. It was Horatio's. He held tight with a reassuring smile but said nothing.

Sounds in the corridor followed.

"Oh no." Clara suddenly sat straight.

"What is it?" Horatio asked, turning to look at Clara.

"I forgot. Arabella was coming for tea."

Kathryn slumped even further down in her chair. Nothing would be worse at this moment than to see the woman she looked up to so much, to have her learn of what she had done.

"Good day – oh." Arabella broke off as she appeared in the doorway. "Kathryn, you are home. Oh, it's so lovely to see you again." She hurried into the room and moved toward the chair, kissing Kathryn kindly on the cheek in greeting.

Any wish Kathryn might have had to shield her aunt from her disgrace was quickly muted. Clara proceeded to take the letter from Lady Georgiana and thrust it into her sister-in-law's grasp. Arabella's reaction hurt Kathryn as much as Clara's did. She slowly sat down, her manner quite lost, her cheeks pale. The letter drifted down to her lap as she finished.

"Were there any rumors when you left?" she addressed Kathryn alone.

"None that I had." Kathryn shook her head.

"Yet that doesn't mean there are none." Clara stood and walked away from the chair, her manner panicked. She paced up and down, her hands fidgeting. "What is to be done?"

"Nothing," Horatio insisted. He offered Kathryn an encouraging smile and stood, following Clara where he halted her pacing with hands on her shoulders. "Our daughter has learned some healing practices. There is nothing so wrong in that?—

"Horatio!" Clara was plainly outraged. "But?—"

"There will be no scandal." Horatio assured her. "Lady Georgiana has taken steps to avoid that. To be honest, I'm more disappointed that this Doctor Beille has decided to leave as your cousin bid him, rather than making any serious offer to our daughter."

"I beg your pardon?" Clara spluttered.

Kathryn's hands shook as she exchanged a look with her father across the room.

"Put aside your assistance on propriety for one minute, Clara," he whispered strongly. "Our daughter is hurting for another reason, beyond just the fear of disappointing you."

The words sat heavy in the air. Kathryn didn't know what was worse now. The disappointment to her parents, or the fact that her father could see at once that her heart was hurting, for she loved Doctor Beille.

I do love him, do I not? And now, I shall never see him again.

"Oh." Clara covered her mouth with her hands.

Before anymore could be said between them, the butler arrived to ask about Kathryn's trunk that had been brought back and what to do about Lady Georgiana's carriage. Horatio whispered something to Clara that Kathryn did not hear, then he left the room to make the arrangements. In the silence that followed, Kathryn tried to hold her breath, to stop more tears, but she failed.

In the end, her vision blurred, and only came into focus once more as Arabella sat beside her and proffered up a handkerchief. Kathryn thanked her and mopped her tears, just as Clara sat down on her other side, her whole body shaky.

"Is it true?" Arabella whispered, finding words apparently where Clara could not. "Did you leave your heart in London with this man, Kathryn?"

"That hardly matters." Kathryn shook her head. "I went to him for I saw him as a good tutor. Besides…he is in love with another."

"Oh God." Clara flung herself back into her own chair. "This is getting better and better," she muttered wryly.

"So helpful," Arabella whispered, matching her tone.

"I'm sorry." Clara sat up again and reached for Kathryn's hand, taking it tightly in her own. "I am sorry, Kathryn, truly. Yet if this man is in love with another, then maybe it is wisest you are separated."

"I know." Kathryn's rational mind knew it was for the best, even if her heart thought it the most foolish thing in the world for the two of them to be divided.

"Yet are you certain?" Arabella asked, a softness in her voice as she looked at Kathryn. "I know courtships of this world are not always as smooth as we would wish them to be." She blushed a little, apparently thinking of her own early days of courtship. "Yet just because these meetings are unorthodox, does not mean that any chance of a returned love is impossible."

"This one is," Kathryn insisted, drying the last of her tears. She sat taller, trying to get control of herself. She reached for her reticule on a nearby table, which she now realized her mother had brought in for her and dropped onto the table nearby. "I am quite certain he sees me more as an annoying and eager child, rather than a woman at all."

"That is not true," Clara said with sudden feeling. The words stunned Kathryn so much, she stilled. "You are a woman, Kathryn. With bold passions, and yes, certainly mischief," she added with a certain look, "but you are no annoying child. If that is what the doctor saw in you, then he is not worthy of you."

Kathryn didn't know what to say or feel. Her constant fear that her mother would be disappointed in her was not contradicted by this need to protect. She held onto her mother's hand tighter, loving her all the more in that moment. She pulled away, however, as she fiddled with the reticule, searching for something inside.

"Aunt Arabella, this is yours." Kathryn returned the one earring she had to her aunt.

"I leant them to you," Arabella tried to push it back toward Kathryn, but she shook her head.

"I am only sorry I cannot return both," Kathryn mumbled in a rush. "I misplaced the other at Doctor Beille's house. I now fear that I may have left your notebook there too, for I cannot find it anywhere. I am so sorry," Kathryn whispered. "I am not worthy to wear those earrings."

"They are just earrings, dear," Clara said, her voice soft.

"No. Not to me. They are something more." She curled her aunt's fingers around the earring, hiding it away from view. "I promise to behave from now on," she said with sudden insistence. "I have disgraced this family enough with my mischief and my errant ways. You will not find me behaving in this way again."

Kathryn made a resolution with these words. From now on, she would be the perfect young lady. She would be quiet, proper, even dull, if it meant she avoided any whispers following her here from London. She would please her mother, her father and her aunt from now on. Maybe someday, she would be worthy of wearing that earring again, but she certainly wasn't worthy now.

As she tried to eat some more of the bread her father had given her, it tasted bland and uninteresting. Around her, Clara and Arabella talked, trying to stir Kathryn's interest in local events, and the promise of seeing Sebastian and Elizabeth again, but nothing could excite Kathryn. Not anymore.

Nigel

Nigel paused in the rain outside of the carriage at the end of his road. The droplets ran off his hat and landed on his shoulders, dampening his shirt through his frock coat that was doing very little to keep out the wetness. He looked up and down at the emptiness of the road, feeling strangely alone.

That morning, he had called on his brother to tell him of his decision to become a military doctor. Robert was not pleased, but not for the reason that Nigel had expected. He had initially thought Robert would have said what a disappointment it would be for the son of a viscount to join the army as a military doctor, yet he was wrong. Robert was sorry to lose Nigel from London instead. Robert had pleaded repeatedly with Nigel, asking him to stay, but nothing could sway his decision.

I have to leave.

Nigel walked around the small carriage and looked at the back, checking all his trunks and bags had been latched in place. Everything was ready for his departure, yet still, he wasn't hurrying to his place in the carriage, neither was he giving the instructions for the driver to leave.

He leaned against the trunks at the back of the carriage and considered what was keeping his feet rooted to the cobbled ground. Had he not made arrangements for all of his patients? Yes, he had. He'd ensured two good and well-reputed doctors would check on them all, to offer their services. He'd sent extra medicine to Lady Georgiana, along with another apology note, one he rather feared she might not read. He had made all the arrangements necessary, so why did he still not depart?

It is because I have no wish to go.

He stepped away from the trunks and rounded the carriage, moving to the front where the poor driver was struggling with his own frock coat, turning up the collar in his effort to ward off the rain and stop it dripping down his neck.

"How long until we reach the base at Andover?" he asked the driver.

"In this weather?" The driver looked up at the grey clouds overheard. "A few hours, sir. It will be no easy journey."

We should get going then.

Nigel dropped his hands into his pockets, where one clunked against the book he'd gathered, just before he left. Departing from the driver's side, he moved to the carriage door, opened it wide and leaned in, so he could pull the book out under the roof of the carriage, keeping it dry.

In his grasp, he found Kathryn's notebook. It was her aunt's book first, and as Nigel turned the pages, toward the back he found copious notes that Kathryn herself had made. As he read of all the teachings she had taken on, even the observations she had made, he found himself smiling. In the final page was her earring, wrapped up in one of his handkerchiefs. He fidgeted with it, making sure it was kept perfectly safe within those pages.

The devotion to her craft brought him such happiness that Nigel froze.

She is the only one who has made me smile fully for many years now.

The words struck him like a bolt of lightning. He felt crippled and sat down on the carriage steps, more rain dripping down his back.

"Sir? Are we leaving soon?" the driver called from the front of the carriage.

"Yes, we are." Nigel was alert with sudden activity. He placed the book in the carriage and moved toward the driver. "Yet there is a change of plan. We are no longer going to Andover. Head to Wareham instead."

"Wareham? That will take even longer!"

"So be it," Nigel called, running into the back of the carriage and smiling as he snatched up the book again.