He had made it out the vicarage door, past the garden, and onto the road toward the village when he heard rapid footfalls behind him. He knew who it was, of course. He had hoped to take his leave without this encounter. He did not wish to share his humiliation with anyone. Nor could he forget the triumph on the vicar’s face as he assured him that his daughter shared his views. Daniel took a deep breath before turning around.
She looked more like the girl-Charlotte again, rather than the poised young woman he’d danced with last week. Cheeks flushed, eyes wide, hair loose from her run, falling around her face, more concerned for the feelings of others than proper appearances. The girl he’d fallen in love with in the first place.
“You’re leaving?” she asked between breaths. “For keeps, I mean?”
“Yes.”
“Without saying good-bye?”
“I thought it best, under the circumstances.”
“Oh ... I suppose I should apologize for spoiling your dignified parting by chasing after you in a most undignified manner.”
He smiled at this in spite of himself. “Your father would not approve.”
She looked at him meaningfully, her earnest eyes sad. “No, he would not.”
He looked away from her, toward Doddington, grasping his hands behind his back. He felt her gaze on his profile.
After an awkward moment, she asked, “Are you sure you must go?”
“Charlotte, I am sure of very little. Except that I need to improve myself. I am determined to complete my studies at the University of Edinburgh and become a licensed physician.”
“But Oxford or Cambridge would be so much closer.”
“I am afraid I haven’t the status nor means for either of those institutions. Dr. Webb recommends Edinburgh—it is where he studied.”
“You admire Dr. Webb.”
“Yes. My own father is a surgeon, but I want to do more than set bones and cut out offending bits ...” He paused. “Forgive me. That was terribly unfeeling of me.”
She gave him a tiny smile. “You certainly do not have Dr. Webb’s discretion.”
“Quite right. Another thing I shall have to improve upon.”
“My mother was quite fond of you—just as you are.”
“Thank you. I am honored.”
“Father, however ...”
“Yes, Miss Lamb. I quite understand. Your father himself has made his opinion of me quite clear.”
She opened her mouth as if to say more, to apologize, perhaps, but instead she pressed her lips primly together and said no more.
Knowing there was little more he could say on that subject, or any other, Daniel Taylor bid farewell to Miss Charlotte Lamb and to Doddington, determined to rarely think of either of them again.
Since they may be hindered by sickness,
or for that they are too weake and tender,
or else because their Husbands will not suffer them,
it will be very necessary to seeke out another Nurse.
—JAMESGUILLEMEAU,CHILDBIRTH OR
THEHAPPYDELIVERIE OFWOMEN
