“I am not laughing!” she said with a vehement shake of her head.
But the gentleman didn’t seem to hear her and continued, “I know it was foolish of me to have presumed, but it seems I am bound to be forever a fool when it comes to love.”
Violet’s eyes widened. “You keep using that word, but there must be a mistake. You cannot love me.”
Dr. Vaughn’s blue eyes met her gaze, a frown marring his features. “Because I am not good enough? What is it about me that is so egregious?”
“You cannot be in earnest,” she said with another sharp shake of her head. “I am not the sort of woman a man loves.”
Stiffening, Dr. Vaughn’s head jerked back, his eyes boring into her with an expression of utter shock, studying every facet of her expression. Violet squirmed beneath his regard, longing to look away, but she was caught in his gaze, unable to move. The silence dragged out, and with each passing second, his features softened, his muscles slackening as his brow furrowed.
“You honestly believe that?” he asked. “After everything I have done and said—”
She pulled away from him, stepping back as she wrapped her arms around her middle. “You said any man would be lucky to have me. Men say such things when they are placating bruised feelings, but all it means is thatsome otherman would be lucky to have me.”
Dr. Vaughn’s frown grew more pronounced. “Since when?”
“Always,” she said, throwing out her arms as though to take in the entire span of the world. “You saw with your own eyeshow hard Mr. Gadd laughed at the thought of courting me. Men act sweet and affectionate, but in truth, they always think I am the perfect wifefor someone else. Never them. No one ever wants me. They want someone delicate and lovely. A social butterfly who is charming and witty and demure.”
Despite having said such things before, the pain of saying them at this moment made Violet’s heart split open, bringing with it all the pain of her past. All the effort she’d made to keep those feelings buried was swept away, allowing them to surge to the surface in a wave of anguish.
And she desperately longed to hide away from it all.
*
Demure she was not. Miss Templeton was like one of the fabled Amazonian warriors or how the Greeks and Romans imagined Artemis and Diana, the great goddesses of the hunt. Stately and regal. A fighter. Someone with steel woven into her very core. The lady stood where she ought not to be, facing a conversation that Arthur had fled from so many times.
Yet there was such fragility in her gaze. Not daring to hope yet unwilling to back away.
Saints above, Miss Templeton truly believed her words. Doubt shone in her gaze, as though fully expecting him to laugh like that fool, Gadd. And as he considered the gentleman’s behavior anew, Arthur’s heartache receded, allowing him to see the situation as he hadn’t whilst in the midst of it.
Had she not understood the intent of their picnic? Despite how clear he thought he’d been, did she even now not comprehend the depth of his feelings for her? Arthur didn’t need to ask. The truth was stamped clearly on her face. For all that he had attempted to distinguish his behavior from that of men like Mr. Gadd, he had fallen short. Unwittingly so, but that did not alter the situation standing before him.
The only path ahead was verbal, which was far from Arthur’s strong suit, and his usual fears surged to the forefront—but then, he’d already declared his feelings, and unless hewished to lie and retract them, there wasn’t any reason to hide any longer—and there was every reason to be clear.
“It seems subtlety and nuance have done us no favors, Miss Templeton, so I will be blunt,” he said, drawing himself up to face her fully. Finch had been right; if she rejected him again, it couldn’t feel any worse. “From the very first, I have admired you, and, bungling though I have been, I have spent the past two and a half months courting you.”
Arthur paused and amended, “Or attempting to, rather.”
Miss Templeton’s eyes widened, her mouth gaping for a long moment before she said, “I do not believe in love at first sight—”
“And neither do I,” said Arthur with a hint of a smile. “It wasn’t the sight of you that intrigued me. The entire situation with Mr. Evans showed me how capable, kind, and intelligent you were. I’ve never met anyone as strong as you, and I was in awe from the very first.”
Chapter 41
How did one go about reshaping the truths one knew? Lessons hard earned through years of repetition and reinforcement balked at the words flowing from Dr. Vaughn’s lips, and Violet stood there, staring at the fellow, unable to truly comprehend that which flew in the face of what she knew to be fact.
Brows pinched together, she whispered in an unsteady voice, “I am not the sort of lady who inspires love.”
Dr. Vaughn sighed, a hint of sorrow dimming the rich blue of his eyes, though they gazed upon her as tenderly as any man ever had gazed upon a lady. They pierced straight through her, reaching past her defenses to wrap around her heart.
“I cannot speak for any other man, Miss Templeton but I am certain about what I feel. I love you.”
Those three words sent shivers down her spine, settling into her chest before rippling outward in a wave of heat. Though Violet knew she couldn’t trust herself entirely to interpret a man’s actions, it was impossible to deny that bold statement and the certainty that echoed in his expression. Despite her best attempts, she couldn’t think of another way to interpret Dr. Vaughn’s feelings other than love.
Could it be true?
That one thought unlocked the chains that she’d settled firmly around her hopes, releasing the feelings she’d refused to acknowledge from the moment he’d appeared at the house with flowers in hand and a warrior’s soul, demanding that Mr. Timms and Mr. Sprat treat her with respect. Violet hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it then or any of the other times Dr. Vaughn had swept into her world with that sweetness of temper that lifted her spirits—but that hadn’t stopped her feelings from cultivating in the shadows, hidden and out of sight.
