She chuckled. “From what I hear, most people here like you and think you are a good physician. I certainly do ... think you are a good physician, I mean.”
“And I think you are a good ... person. As well as kind, and clever, and lovely.”
Anne’s cheeks heated and pleasure washed over her, quickly followed by uncertainty. Was he flirting with her? He definitely seemed to be.
His expression dimmed. “Yet I’m afraid I cannot join you today. Need to dash. But thank you, and please pass along my gratitude to Miss Newland. And whatever Miss Birt says of me, please know the truth is not as bad as it might seem.”
She looked at him with interest and foreboding. “That is mysterious.”
“I don’t mean it to be.”
He looked around to be sure no one was near and then sank his voice. “You’re bound to hear the rumors, so I will tell you what I told Dr. Marsland when he recently confronted me about ... the child living in my home. I suppose you’ve heard of it?”
“Well, em, yes.”
“I am caring for my sister’s child. She and her husband have gone to India, and they left their child with me, under my guardianship.”
“Oh. I ... suppose it is a dangerous journey?”
“It can be, yes. I just thought you should know.”
“Thank you for telling me. Is it a secret?”
“Apparently not.” He managed a crooked grin, yet his eyes remained troubled. “My housekeeper and her daughter take care of him when I am out on calls. Mrs. Tufley has her half day on Sundays, so I need to return and care for the boy myself. The arrangement is not ideal, but it’s the best I can do for now.”
“I see.”
“I am not sure that you do. Things in my life are ... complicated at present. Striving to meet Dr. Marsland’s exacting standards, trying to please dozens of patients, and learning my way around the parish with directions like ‘Halfway to Sheepscombe, turn right past the old lime tree.’ Growing accustomed to my new living situation with a child, a housekeeper and her daughter living in, and ... well, my time is not my own. I am not at liberty to ... pursue my own interests. I wish I could be more forthcoming, Miss Loveday. But at the moment, I cannot.”
He bowed and turned away, leaving Anne confused, concerned, and questioning the layered meaning of his words. She watched him walk away, her earlier suspicions and curiosity lingering. She felt certain there was more to the story, and that he was still hiding something.
As he reached the corner of the churchyard, a young woman came walking up St. Mary’s Street in his direction. The two stopped to talk.
Anne recognized her instantly.
Rosa.
Rosa had said she would remain on hand should Lady Celia need anything. Why had she left? Anne had seen these two talking privately several times now. Was Rosa the reason Dr. Finch was “not at liberty”? Something was certainly going on between them. Anne wished one or the other wouldtell her what it was. They were too far away for her to hear their conversation, but neither looked happy.
Miss Birt came out of the church and found her. “You are coming over for luncheon, I trust? I believe Dinah is attempting a cottage pie.”
“I think I should look in on Lady Celia first,” Anne said. “You go on, and I will join you as soon as I can.”
“Very well. We shall endeavor to save you some.” Ursula winked and walked away.
When Anne returned to Painswick Court, she found Lady Celia with a bed tray over her lap rather than the previous writing box, teacup perched upon it at a precarious angle, and newspaper in her hand.
Lady Celia said, “So Rosa decided to go to church with you after all? I called for her and she did not answer.”
“Oh, I am sorry. Did you need something?”
“Never mind. I rang the bell. Jane brought me tea and took Louie outside. Did you not see Rosa at the service?”
Anne had not seen her in church, but she did not wish to get the girl into trouble. After all, Lady Celia had said they both might go.
“I ... well, I left the house before she did and sat with Miss Birt. Rosa might have slipped into one of the rear pews, not having a friend to sit with as I do. Now, would you like more tea or something to eat?”
Lady Celia set aside the newspaper and lifted a linen napkin lying across her chest, which Anne now noticed was damp and stained light brown. “The maid did not flatten the bedclothes first, so the tray was not level and the tea spilled. Not sure which of us was clumsier.”
