“You studied in London?” asked Violet.
Dr. Vaughn drew in a breath, the tenseness in his shoulders easing as an easy smile graced his lips. “I did. My father is not only an accomplished surgeon but taught at St. Thomas’ Hospital as well, so I studied under his tutelage there and at Guy’s.”
“Both are illustrious institutions. Which did you prefer?”
“Guy’s,” he replied without hesitation.
“And why is that?”
Dr. Vaughn shuffled in place, a touch of his discomfort returning, though he gave a clear answer. “St. Thomas’ focused more on anatomy and surgery, but I prefer the physician side of medicine. Most especially childbirth and the management of infants and children.”
Violet’s brows rose at that, and Dr. Vaughn gave her a chagrined smile in return.
“Yes, I know that most doctors prefer far more prestigious studies, which is why I surrendered to my father’s insistence that I study surgery as well, but I found myself pulled back to that subject again and again. We’ve advanced in so many areas of medicine, yet it is still commonplace for mothers to lose their lives bringing their children into this world—a third of whom will not live to see their first birthday, and of those who do survive, a further one in ten will not reach five years of age. Surely, if we can gain a better understanding of how to help our most vulnerable, it will improve how we treat the rest of us as well.”
Blinking, she stared at him as he spoke forcefully, requiring little prodding as he expounded on that subject and medicine in general. Dr. Vaughn hardly seemed to notice when the lead couple called out the figures and the musicians struck the opening notes. For all his awkwardness before, he moved easily throughthe steps, attesting that though he did not care for society, he had the skills to navigate it, and Violet was rather jealous of his newfound ease.
From the corners of her eyes, she spied the ladies on either side of her, and she couldn’t help but feel like a galloping giant next to them as she attempted the dance. Being the same height as and even taller than the gentlemen opposite, weaving under arms required quite a lot of ducking on her part, and with her broad shoulders, it was impossible to slip between the dancers without jostling them. Clearly, the dancing masters who choreographed such travesties didn’t intend for ladies of great stature to dance.
Yet Dr. Vaughn seemed blind to it all, turning his whole attention on her as they lost themselves in conversation.
Chapter 8
Despite all the quick steps and fast-paced music, Arthur felt as though he could finally breathe. He was dancing with Miss Templeton. Speaking with her. Quite easily, in fact. If one ignored his bumbling attempt to ask her to dance. Which Arthur fully intended to do. Immediately.
Approaching a lady ought not to be a terrifying thing. Or so his family were fond of saying; only his youngest brother ever seemed to appreciate the nerves it produced, but then, Owen was a quiet soul as well. To their thinking, a rejection was of no consequence as another lady was bound to accept. That sounded so simple and easy, yet when faced with asking Miss Templeton to dance, Arthur’s tongue had refused to see the logic in such a straightforward approach.
Yet now, they were speaking freely.
Granted, they were mostly speaking about doctoring, but this was the simplicity that his family promised him. And with each passing minute, Arthur found it easier to broach other subjects and venture into unknown territory, which Miss Templeton seemed just as eager to discuss. Beyond medicine and herbology, he couldn’t claim a vast deal of their interestsaligned, but it was equally fascinating to hear her expound on music and literature.
The more she spoke, the more animated Miss Templeton became, and Arthur couldn’t help but match her enthusiasm. She was no silly, giggling young miss but a lady with intelligence and experience, and when the music ended, they hardly countenanced the shift, standing where the song left them as she described the latest novel to have captured her attention.
But realizing that their time was coming to a close had Arthur in a dither; there had to be some way to keep her by his side. To ask her to dance twice in a row would raise eyebrows, and no doubt she had a partner waiting to stand up with her, but perhaps he could linger near her friends, and when Miss Templeton was free once more, he could slip into the conversation as he had before.
“You do not ride?” asked Miss Templeton with such a level of surprise that one might’ve thought he’d said he enjoyed kicking puppies.
“There isn’t much use for it in London,” he said, his brows rising just a touch, though it had more to do with the easy manner in which he responded. Such a reaction ought to have left Arthur stumbling over an apology, yet he felt no need to do so. Miss Templeton’s expression was so open, and she spoke to him as though they weren’t new acquaintances but old friends, and Arthur found it more and more difficult to remain discomforted in her presence.
As long as he didn’t attempt to invite her on an outing. Which was precisely what he longed to do, yet his tongue glued itself to his palate every time he contemplated such a venture. Not that he’d know where to take her at any rate; Oakham didn’t boast many entertainments.
“I suppose that is true, but it seems excessively odd,” replied Miss Templeton. “I don’t know of a physician who doesn’t ride, else they’d spend more of their time traveling between patients than seeing to them.”
“That is a valid point,” said Arthur with a frown. “As I am still getting settled, it hasn’t been an issue yet, but having seen how far away so many of the cottages are, I can well imagine that it is problematic. Do you ride?”
Miss Templeton broke into a broad smile. “Yes, though I cannot go as often as I like. It is a wonderful way to clear my thoughts, and it allows me to enjoy more scenery than I can whilst walking.”
“Being born and bred in London, I cannot say I have ever been atop a horse before. I suppose I should learn to drive a gig as well,” said Arthur as his mind sped through the possibility.
Could he ask Miss Templeton to teach him? That was a prime excuse to secure more of her time if ever he saw one, and Arthur suspected he knew what her answer would be, for the lady seemed generous to her core.
But would she find it odd? Or distasteful that he required her assistance? Saints above, his peers at school would’ve mocked him mercilessly for asking a lady to teach him, and though it mattered not a jot to Arthur (especially as it had the added benefit of allowing him a reasonable excuse to be in her presence), he couldn’t help but wonder if she mightn’t think less of him.
Plenty of ladies longed for burly men without a dash of weakness to be found. Arthur knew that far too well, as the sight of his naked head was enough for most ladies to dismiss him out of hand. Those who didn’t seemed only to tolerate the deficiency, and nothing made a man feel more desired than having his physical flawstolerated.
Miss Templeton’s behavior during the surgery suggested she didn’t tolerate fools. Yet neither did she blanche at accepting or giving assistance when required.
A gamble, to be certain. But surely, it was a worthy one. It would take some weeks for him to learn to ride or drive, and in the meantime, Arthur would be granted her company. Eventually, they might simply slip into courtship without him havingto be so bold as to declare his intentions. Allow the lady to acclimate to the idea slowly first.
