With Violet’s assistance, Felicity was cleaned as well as she could be, and despite the physical toll, her friend’s expression glowed with pleasure; her wayward curls had pulled free of her plait, sticking to her temple and neck, but her eyes drank in the child bundled in her arms.
Was there ever a more moving sight? Such utter and unrestrained joy and relief all wrapped together as snugly as the linen tucked around the babe. Violet’s heart throbbed in her chest, threatening to beat straight through it. Everything had gone perfectly, and though the babe was now dozing, little George’s lungs had been strong when he greeted the world.
“It’s magnificent, isn’t it?” whispered Dr. Vaughn as he appeared at her side.
Violet nodded, unable to form the words as she watched the trio together. Then, with a silent nod toward the door, the pair slipped away: their work was done. Soon the rest of the Finches flooded the chamber, surrounding the newest member with congratulations and affection.
Standing in the corridor, Violet stopped a passing maid and asked her to prepare the carriage before Dr. Vaughn led her to the drawing room.
“It does make me feel ever so fancy to ask for the carriage to be brought round,” said Violet with a laugh as she collapsed onto the sofa.
“You wish to leave so soon?” asked Dr. Vaughn before glancing at the tea service. “Would you like a cup while you wait?”
“Yes, and yes,” she replied. “My work is completed. Though the excitement of meeting her son has reinvigorated Felicity, it is only temporary. Soon, she will collapse and sleep for a good long while. The nursemaid is on hand if they require any assistance, and it is getting rather late.”
Dr. Vaughn nodded as he readied a cup. Violet doubted it was fresh, but she didn’t care in the slightest, as her throat was parched. She watched as the gentleman moved through the steps with as much ease and skill as a highborn society matron.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a man make me a cup of tea,” she mused.
“It sounds as if those men weren’t worth knowing,” said Dr. Vaughn with his characteristic softness, though the words themselves were far more biting than she expected of him.
With a smile, Violet accepted the cup. “Perhaps not.”
Settling into the sofa, Dr. Vaughn sat beside her as they enjoyed their drinks. Even if the servants hurried, it would be some time before the carriage and horses were ready, and now that she was seated, exhaustion settled into her bones. Glancing at the window, she saw that it was black as pitch outside, though she didn’t think it was quite bedtime yet.
Dr. Vaughn’s arm brushed hers as he reached for the biscuits, setting a pair on each of their saucers, and Violet felt a calm settle over her like a blanket. Uncertainty lay just beyond these walls, yet here and now, she was at peace. It was as though that stalwart soul of his simply radiated the sentiment, allowing her to revel in the quiet that he brought to her world.
There were no troubles or difficulties ahead. Simply peace.
*
Perched on the edge of the seat, Arthur tried to relax into the sofa after placing the biscuits on Miss Templeton’s saucer, but his muscles refused to cooperate. There wasn’t a better time than now, and the carriage would be ready before they knew it.
“I love seeing a new family together,” he said, casting his mind back to the image in the adjacent room. “So much happiness in a moment. Makes me rather jealous. It’s the reason I wanted to settle in the country.”
“Is it?” asked Miss Templeton, her gaze turning from her refreshments. “I may be wrong, but I had thought it possible to have a family in London.”
There was a slight tease in her tone, and Arthur smiled, though his stomach remained twisted in knots. The opportunity had been laid out for him, so there was no reason to retreat.
“True,” he replied. “But the city is an entirely different way of living, and for a long time I have dreamt of something better than living amongst chaos and competition, where everything centers on prestige and position.”
“You make the country sound like a utopia, but I warn you that we have plenty of pomp and circumstance, where people obsess over that ‘prestige and position’ you do not care for,” she said, setting down her cup.
“Not to the same degree,” he said, his brow furrowing as he tried to think how to describe it. “I was raised in the heart of it, where the focus of one’s life is grand accomplishments and making a name for oneself. Except for me and my youngest brother, the rest of the family is intent on building up a legacyfor the sake of having a legacy. Their joy comes from acclaim, and that seems to me a hollow way to live.”
Miss Templeton shifted in her seat, turning her full attention on him. “And what is it that you wish for your life?”
A smile drew up the corner of his lips as Arthur’s mind filled with the image. “A cottage. With a garden. Before seeing yours, my dreams had been far more simplistic in that regard, but now, I imagine my home looking something like the one you’ve cultivated. Green all around. A wife and a large family with more children than we have space for, but it matters little because we spend our days exploring the countryside roundabout. And in the evenings, we read aloud in front of the fireplace.”
For all that the image burned brightly in his mind, Arthur wished he had the words to describe it. Though he knew there was an idyllic tint to the dream that was impossible to attain in this flawed world, it was less about the details as much as it was about the feel of the thing. So, he focused on that.
“I want a quiet life. Where I can do good with my skills but still focus on my family.” He shifted in place and cleared his throat as he tried to understand Miss Templeton’s silence. “No doubt it seems silly and simplistic, but I’ve already spent so many years watching my family chase after prestige, and I don’t think it’s made them any happier than the plain life of a country physician.”
Hazarding a look at Miss Templeton, Arthur found her watching him with a soft expression that the worried parts of his mind wanted to label as pitying, but the gentle glimmer in her gaze hinted at some warmer sentiment.
“I don’t think that sounds silly at all, Dr. Vaughn,” she murmured. “It sounds splendid.”
A jolt of joy shot through him, and Arthur fought to keep his voice calm. “You said not long ago that you didn’t need marriage to be happy.”
