This time when her husband reached for her, Mrs. Finch took his hands in hers.
“I am still angry with you, though. You ought to have told me from the beginning,” she added.
“I know, but I will say the same thing I said to Miss Templeton,” replied Finch. “There was no way to broach the subject without causing trouble, and I wasn’t going to leave it alone to placate anyone. I knew you would fight me on it, and I will not allow anyone to stand between me and what I must do to protect you and my child. Everyone knows Miss Templeton is the driving force behind her brother’s medical practice, and though she does her best, I want better for you.”
“And what of Dr. Vaughn?” asked Mrs. Finch, drawing him back into the conversation. Though it was dark in the carriage, the glimmer of the carriage lamp caught a few glimmers on her cheeks, which she brushed away.
“Though I understand your reasons, Finch, I cannot say that I forgive you for misleading me,” said Arthur. “I came here looking for a new start, and even if I do secure my position, it will be done at the cost of a family who has been a staple of thiscommunity. Miss Templeton’s skills serve Oakham’s needs, and it is cruel to force her and her family out.”
Arthur nearly stumbled at her name, for if he were to be entirely honest at that moment, it was she who occupied the majority of his concern.
“I didn’t mean to mislead you,” said Finch with a shake of his head. “I truly didn’t. I knew you wished to move to the country, but I hadn’t realized it was because you wished to avoid the competition in the city.”
Arthur’s brows rose. “I spoke to you about it.”
But Finch shook his head more firmly. “You never mentioned anything of the sort. You said you wanted a quieter life—”
“Without the cutthroat competition, Finch.”
“You do not—” began Finch, but his wife hushed him.
“Not now. He is angry, and he has every right to be,” she said. “Let it be.”
Which was far easier said than done, positioned as they were. If not for the fact that their destination was still miles away, Arthur would’ve preferred to walk. The only comfort to be found was that Mrs. Finch set about distracting the others from Arthur, allowing him to consider the problem.
His success meant harming Miss Templeton’s family. The thought made his stomach twist in a way that had him longing for a cup of ginger tea, even if he knew it would do little to help the situation. It may do wonders in settling a troubled stomach, but it couldn’t soothe the troubled heart that caused it.
To leave Oakham would mean losing Miss Templeton. To stay would make her hate him.
Chapter 14
The scent of damp soil, punctuated with notes of rosemary and mint, hung heavy in the air. With such wretched weather this summer, the plants were only just growing into a semblance of their usual size, with fuzzy stalks of meadowsweet and stringy bushes of chamomile finally taking shape. Despite the overcast sky, the enclosed garden pulsed with vibrancy; the bright orange and yellow of the marigolds and calendula sparkled amongst the vibrant green of the thyme and marshmallow leaves.
Kneeling on the ground, Violet bent over the planting beds, digging at the weeds that continued to sneak into the perfect rows of herbs and vegetables that supplied not only the medicines she produced but the family’s meals. The carrots were looking rather spindly, and the impatient part of her longed to see how they were progressing, but young Violet had learned quickly that pulling them prematurely did no good. Though they did taste all the sweeter.
Sitting on her heels, she dragged a forearm across her forehead, batting away the sweat that had gathered despite the bite to the air. Humming to herself, Violet paused as she considered just how quiet the garden was.
A stone wall enclosed the garden, and four alcoves were built into the back side, large enough for the beehives to rest. The skeps were nearly silent, with hardly any movement from the residents inside. A few bees moved in and out of the opening at the bottom of the woven hive, but it was too few. The chill wasn’t kind to them, either, and Violet prayed the skies would clear, else there wouldn’t be enough honey or comb to harvest.
Despite those worries, Violet was grateful for the weather at present, for it was unbearable to maintain the garden in the heat of summer. Being hunched over in the dirt was demanding enough on its own, but with the sun blazing down on her, it turned a chore into a torture. One never knew just how thoroughly one could sweat until such a moment.
“Vi?” called Lilibet from the garden gate.
Turning her head, Violet glanced at her sister-in-law, who waved at her without bothering to move toward her.
“I cannot find a basket,” she said with a frown. “I have looked all over, but Isaac and your mother don’t know where the servants keep them, and it’s Mrs. Stevens’ half-day and Peggy went to the shops.”
“I am almost finished here,” called Violet.
“I hate to press the issue, but it is urgent.” Lilibet’s tone echoed the apology etched in her cherubic features.
Straightening, Violet struggled to her feet as her back popped alarmingly. With the edge of her apron, she scrubbed at her hand, though it was difficult to find a patch unspoiled by mud and dirt. She cast a look at the work and smiled to herself. The pile of weeds on the ground beside her testified to just how much she’d accomplished, and though there was still more to be done, the beds were far cleaner than before.
The yarrow needed trimming, though there was little space in the herb garret to hang it. With the poor weather meddling with the plants, far too many were blooming at once, leaving all the drying hooks occupied.
“Vi?” called Lilibet, pulling her from her thoughts.
“Coming,” she replied, turning away to cross the garden and find her sister-in-law with a teasing smile on her lips. And Violet knew precisely what she was thinking.
