“If only we’d known each other then, Viola. How different your life might have been if I’d been there to give you the love and protection you needed.” His throat worked as if he was having some trouble getting the words out. “But I’m here now, and I am not leaving your side.”
She scarcely knew what to say besides “Thank you.” But that seemed so insufficient when compared to his kindness and support. So she chose to say nothing at all and just hold him as he held her while savoring the comfort of his embrace.
He released her before she was ready. But rather than return to his side of the carriage, he stayed beside her, simply holding her hand.
A companionable silence filled the carriage until Mr. Lowell suddenly asked, “Who’s your favorite poet?”
Viola blinked, momentarily thrown off balance, but then she gathered her wits and said, “To be honest, I’ve never really enjoyed poetry. I prefer a good novel—a story with an exciting plot and compelling characters.”
“Why?” He sounded genuinely curious.
She shrugged one shoulder. “I suppose I like all the wonderful experiences available to me in a pile of bound paper.”
Allowing herself to look at him, she found his eyes illuminated with equal parts curiosity and wonder. When he spoke again, it was with the utmost softness. “Then allow me to ask a different question.” The edge of his mouth lifted. “Who is your favorite author?”
“Jane Austen, but I also enjoy the occasional Daniel Defoe and Henry Fielding.”
“I think Jane Austen matches your personality best.” His eyes narrowed and he pressed his lips together before adding, “There’s softness inside you and playfulness too. You seek to help people, which means you have tremendous kindness and love in your heart. I can see you reading something romantically uplifting with a touch of wit.”
“I—”
“Would it surprise you to know that I’ve often enjoyed her stories myself?”
She suddenly laughed. “Truly?”
His smile settled more firmly into place. “Which of her novels do you favor?”
Heat warmed her cheeks as she gazed back into his eyes. “I would have to sayMansfield Park.”
“Of course.” There was no doubt in his mind that she would identify with Fanny Price and her ability to rise above her inferior birth. “It is a lovely story.”
“You know it?”
“Is that so shocking?” He could see that it was because of the charming way her bottom lip dipped in the middle and the inquisitiveness with which her brow rose. “I have also readEmma,Pride and PrejudiceandNorthanger Abbey.”
Expelling a breath, Viola sank back against the squabs. “I confess I would not have thought it.”
“Because I’m a man?”
Her mouth hitched a little at one corner and her eyelids lowered ever so slightly. It was enough to convey some small measure of discomfort. “I suppose so.”
He grinned, pleased by her honesty. “That’s fairly biased in light of your own involvement with medicine, a field dominated entirely by men.” The carriage turned a corner and slowed. “Not that I disapprove,” he said when he saw she was getting ready to argue, “for indeed I believe what you have done and what you continue to do is really quite splendid.”
The carriage halted and Henry opened the door, alighting in one swift movement so he could offer Viola his assistance. She placed her hand carefully in his, sparking a flame where both their palms met.
“You have a peculiar interest in curiosities, Mr. Lowell.” Her gaze met his, and he saw in the depths of her eyes a desperate need to be understood and accepted for who she was. “Am I like your automaton? An oddity for you to marvel at? Is that the reason for your sudden interest in me?”
“No.” He knew he had to tell her the truth even if she wouldn’t believe it. “You are someone I greatly admire, a woman whose company I do not take for granted but seek because you are more than most people aspire to be.”
She stared at him, her hand still resting in his. And then she licked her lips and Henry applauded his restraint, since every cell in his body now screamed for him to pull her into his arms and kiss her.
“I had advantages, first because of my father’s profession and then by meeting Florian. His open-mindedness has allowed me to involve myself in St. Agatha in a way no other physician would.”
Henry released her hand and offered his arm so he could lead her inside The Red Rose and toward his office. “You said you helped him extract the lead ball from my shoulder. Does he also allow you to operate on your own?”
“Sometimes, with his supervision and when no one else is there to see. But mostly I assist him and finish up with the sutures.” She suddenly smiled. “He says mine are neater.”
Henry’s chest tightened. Although his brother was now happily married and had never implied he’d been involved with Viola, he had to ask, “Is there any truth to the rumors about you two?”
