“That would be lovely,” said Dr. Vaughn with a smile that did nothing for her equilibrium.
So often, his expression was a tight thing that showed more wariness than warmth, but when relaxed, his face radiated with… Violet tried to put a finger on the sentiment, but she couldn’t quantify it beyond the fact that the sight made her feel lighter; as though his contentment and joy were contagious, but instead of traveling by miasmas and foul vapors, one need only see it to be infected. If he employed that more often, the unmarried ladies in the area would grow even more twitter-pated than they already were for the man.
But Violet Templeton couldn’t make friends with the doctor, so she forced her attention to the road ahead, pointing them toward a forest.
Clearing her throat again, she asked, “What is it that you wished to discuss with me?”
“As I said, I was ignorant about the situation before I arrived, but now that I’m here, there’s not much to be done,” he said with a frown. “My lease for the cottage is binding for the next two years, and though there are ways around that, it would be very difficult for me to relocate so soon after arriving in Oakham. And even if I could pack up and leave tomorrow, I gave my word that I would deliver Finch’s child.”
Drawing in a breath, Dr. Vaughn continued, “But I want to have peace between your family and me, and I think there might be a way for us all to coexist.”
The tightness in her chest eased, and Violet’s heart rose at the thought. Though the world around them was still dim and dingy, it felt as though the sunshine peeked through the clouds, and her footsteps grew lighter as they reached the edge of the forest.
“I had wanted to speak to your brother about the matter,” said Dr. Vaughn. “However, Mr. Finch assured me that you are the proper Templeton to speak to.”
Violet’s feet jerked to a halt, her eyes darting to Dr. Vaughn. “And no doubt by now, the village has told you what a hoyden I am, as I have the gall to do more than what is deemed appropriate work for a genteel lady, though they never have any suggestions about how I can meet those standards and provide for my family. Better we starve.”
His brows rose at that. “If that makes you a hoyden, then it appears all the wives in my profession should be called such. My own mother is a hoyden of the highest degree.”
Gripping the edge of her shawl, Violet pulled it tighter around her as the gentleman watched her with a considering expression before motioning her forward.
“I see I shall have to convince you,” he said with a slight laugh to his tone. Slanting her a look, Dr. Vaughn added, “I don’t know of any medical man whose wife does not assist him in some fashion. My mother spent as much time mixing medicines as my father and often assisted in surgeries. Such things may be uncommon in the country, but I assure you that in the city, it is commonplace in my profession. It would be impossible for me to see all my patients and make the medicines they require without assistance.”
Giving her a vague shrug as they delved deeper into the forest, he added, “But then, isn’t that the nature of marriage? Unless a couple is blessed with an independent fortune that allows them to live in luxury, most wives do more than keep house—though heaven knows that alone is an occupation in and of itself. Whether elevating their husband’s social standing or participating in the work itself, I cannot think of any man who doesn’t owe a significant portion of his success to his wife, even if no one but him sees the effort she puts forth.”
For all that Violet had learned long ago not to countenance the villagers’ judgments, hearing Dr. Vaughn dismiss their criticism of hoyden ladies so thoroughly couldn’t help but lighten her spirits. And she found herself wishing that the path ahead would stretch on indefinitely.
Chapter 17
The distant sound of water drew Violet’s gaze from the ground to the surrounding forest, drifting over the swaths of greenery that enveloped them; for all that the skies were gray, the leaves sparked with life, bringing with them a dash of sunshine. The road cut a swath through the undergrowth, drawing them deeper in until they could no longer see the fields beyond, and the crisp scent of the river filled her nose before they arrived at the bend.
Dr. Vaughn stopped as they spied the Little Leigh River. The water was clear enough to see the rocks lining the bed, blending their brown hue with the reflection of the green leaves above. Despite being quite wide, the river in this part was shallow enough to ford, though long before anyone alive could recall, the townsfolk had built a clapper bridge across it.
Large boulders formed the piers that held the structure aloft, and thin slabs of slate were laid across the tops, allowing the water to flow freely beneath and providing a relatively smooth surface to cross. Despite having seen it many times before, Violet couldn’t help but be impressed by the simple engineering that had managed to stand strong for so long.
Leading him to the water’s edge, she ducked beneath the hanging branches that formed a green tunnel and stepped onto the stone walkway, making her way past the foliage’s reach to sit on the center of the bridge. Her stone was quite long, some five or six feet, allowing enough space for them to sit side by side and look down at the water.
With how wet the summer had been, the river was swollen, and she kept a firm hand on her skirts so they wouldn’t fall into the water, but it was still low enough that her soles only occasionally skimmed the surface. In the far distance, children had their trousers and skirts hiked up as they splashed around the shallows, not caring in the slightest that it was far too cold for such antics. But then, Violet had done the same when she was small. Such things never mattered much then. They were far more focused on building their own river crossing, though it lacked the structure of a proper bridge and formed more of a dam.
“This is magnificent,” said Dr. Vaughn, his eyes drifting across the trees and water.
“They do not have sights like this in London?” she asked with a faint smile.
“There are some beautiful parts of the city, but nothing like this.”
Crossing her ankles, Violet drew in a deep breath and swung her feet, sending little ripples in the water when her soles skittered across the surface. “The river goes all the way to Harley Lake, near Bentmoor, but this is my favorite stretch.”
“I can see why.”
The pair sat silently with the trickle of water skipping over stones and children’s laughter carrying on the breeze. Though Violet knew there was business to discuss, she couldn’t help but enjoy the moment before drawing in a deep breath and turning her gaze to Dr. Vaughn.
“Now, what is this grand plan of yours that will allow us to live in peace?”
The gentleman chuckled. “You make it sound as though we are at war, Miss Templeton.”
Violet feigned a smile as she ought, but a chill ran down her spine at the truth behind that description. “What is your proposition?”
Dr. Vaughn’s gaze met hers, and she was struck by the sight. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen blue eyes before, but his were such a rich shade. Not the muddled blue-gray one often found, but almost like the blue of a hydrangea. He sat there for a long moment, merely holding her gaze, and Violet didn’t know what he was thinking, nor did she feel inclined to rush his thoughts. The gentleman was not one to speak hastily, and she rather liked that about him. His words held meaning.
