“I’m not a doctor yet,” Grace said, though her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. “I haven’t finished my apprenticeship, nor have I been accepted to any medical schools. But I hope one day to be.”
“Do you have to go to school?” Arabella asked, causing a tense look to pass between the sisters.
No school in the entire United Kingdom had permitted Grace entry due to her being a woman. Yet, as frustrating as it was, Grace continued to apply to schools, even though she continued to be denied entry. Her only course of action was to apprentice with any doctor that would have her, and it had been difficult convincing even Dr. Barkley to do so.
“One day, perhaps,” Grace said. “But until they permit women to go to school, I’ll have to manage the old-fashioned way.”
“Oh,” Arabella said, somewhat dejected, before adding. “I believe Dr. Hall went to the University of Glasgow. Could you try there?”
“I have,” Grace said, looking down at her notes. “Believe me.”
It bothered Faith to no end that her sister, intelligent and determined as she was, could not pursue her passions. She was tenacious and brilliant, and simply because she was a woman, she was denied her life’s desire. Still, Faith knew it bothered Grace to discuss it, so she decided to change the subject.
“I hope your brother was not too displeased with my still being here,” she said as she set up the chess board. “I hate to think I’ve been a bother to him.”
“Of course not,” Arabella said. “On the contrary, he was quite eager to make sure you were well taken care of. Isn’t that right, Grace?”
“Yes, but…” Grace said, looking at Faith. “How did you know Mr. Harris was returned?”
Faith stared at her sister, keeping her face purposefully blank. She didn’t want to confess to overhearing their conversation the night before.
“I assumed. Arabella said he would be gone for three days. It has been almost a week.”
Grace squinted at her sister but returned to her notes as Arabella made the first move. They played for an hour or so before breaking to take tea—a bland meal that mainly consisted of dry toast and a carrot soup that lacked any flavor, much to Faith’s displeasure. She ate all of it, though, in an effort to get her sister to afford her more food. But after tea, Grace insisted that Faith needed to rest, and left with Arabella. They decided to take a tour of the grounds while Faith slept.
Only Faith couldn’t sleep.
Bored and not tired in the least, she waited a half hour before going to the window. Peering down, she saw Grace and Arabellaas they strolled the neatly kept hedgerow that outlined the gardens at the back of the house. Faith was sure she had plenty of time to tour the art gallery some more before they returned. She doubted Logan was in residence since he was often at Lismore Hall visiting with Graham, and as Mr. Harris couldn’t come upstairs, she was sure she would be entirely alone.
Wrapping a shawl around her shoulders, Faith slid on a pair of slippers Grace had brought from home and crossed the room without making a noise. Jaco yawned and stretched his legs out before jumping off the bed. He landed on the floor with a soft thud, earning him a look from Faith.
Carefully, she turned back to the door and opened it. Peering through the crack, she saw no one and opened it further. Poking her entire head out, she looked back and forth just as she caught sight of Logan, reaching the top of the stairs. Desperate to not be caught and chastised, particularly by him, she turned and was trying to scramble back into the room when he called out to her.
“Faith?” he said, his tone worried.
Faith squeezed her eyes shut, cursing herself for leaving her room at that exact moment. Shaking her head, she donned a pleasant enough expression and turned to face him.
Logan was dressed in a brown tweed pair of pants and matching vest, his white shirtsleeves unadorned with a coat. He wore a thin, black-and-tan silk neck scarf pinned in place, and as he approached, Faith couldn’t help but notice how complementary the color was, particularly in contrast with his hazel eyes.
His full mouth was quirked up, as if he was both partially amused and partially concerned. Faith had to ignore how pleasant she found the line of his jaw and to her humiliation, she visibly shook on her weakened legs.
“Are you well?” he asked.
“Yes, of course. Thank you,” she said, trying to think of something to get him to leave. “I was just, um… well…”
“Escaping?” he said with a smirk.
Though she was resistant to explain herself to him, a part of her was hopeful that he might take pity on her plight. She smiled shyly.
“Honestly, yes. I can’t abide staying in this room any longer and my sister has taken to a tyrannical bedside manner.” Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I know she knows what’s best in these circumstances, but I’m bored and so dreadfully hungry.”
“Hungry?” he said with a frown. “Are you not being fed?”
“I am, but only sickroom foods. I’ve had nothing but broth and toast for days.”
“Well, then come on,” he said, holding his arm to her. “I’ll see you to the kitchens.”
Faith stared at his arm for a moment, unsure. She knew she was weak, but she didn’t like admitting it, and certainly not to a man she had considered an enemy for over a year.
