Chapter Twenty
Mr. Cole hadkissed her lips, her fingertips. They were still tingly and warm from his touch. Now that Verity had tasted his mouth, she would have more of him. She wanted to press into his heat, feel his hands upon her.
But already, his dapper form had receded into the distance.
“I wonder, Miss Lockhart,” said Dr. Westbridge, “whether I might confide in you?”
“Hmm?” Verity dragged her gaze back to the doctor.
“I have thought much on this, and today, I am quite decided.”
“Oh?” She tried her best to concentrate, but her fingers and lips pulsed with recent memory.
“You may remember I mentioned my work at the Royal Hospital for retired soldiers.”
“Er, yes?” Verity was certain it was a noble task the doctor fulfilled. But she did not want to think of other soldiers now, retired or otherwise. Mr. Cole was going off to war. He might never have a chance to kiss her again. Never let the wetness of his tongue torment her with a craving for more. If this was to be their first and last…
A terrible realization hit Verity like a brick to the belly. Wasthatwhy he had kissed her? Because he was leaving to risk his life? Was she someone he’d needed in that moment when emotions had been running high? If so, she could have beenanyoneand he would still have kissed her. It would explain whyhe’d withdrawn from her so abruptly. If he should come back to England, hale and hearty, he would probably look upon that moment with acute embarrassment.
Her thoughts ran on with her. Mr. Cole’s time in Brussels would not be all grime and bloodshed. There would be other mouths to touch with his. Pretty, young things who wanted an adventure with a mysterious foreigner. Would he accommodate them, slake his own thirst with them? After all, he owed her nothing. They were not engaged.
“There will be many more like them when this war is done.”
“What?” Verity jerked back to reality.
“Soldiers who can no longer serve.”
“Oh.” The kiss had probably been meaningless. If Mr. Cole had felt so strongly for her, he would have asked for her hand.
The last of the pleasure his touch had brought now dissipated.
“But when the battles rage,” Dr. Westbridge continued, oblivious of the rise and fall of Verity’s emotions, “and the surgeons have their hands full, who is caring for those with cholera, infections, amputations that are slow to heal?”
Verity shivered. It was all too easy to imagine a hall full of such men.
“And so,” Dr. Westbridge said solemnly, “I have decided to join our good men in Brussels. I wish to serve the king with the skills I have and save as many of his fine soldiers as time and medicine will allow.”
“You are leaving too?” Verity murmured. Arthur Westbridge swam back into focus for her. He was abandoning her! Just like Mr. Cole. Nobody wanted her. She was not enough.
“I think I need to sit down,” said Verity.
At once, the doctor reached out his hand to offer support as she half-stumbled into the carriage. The dark-leather interior matched her mood. She would have preferred to have been leftalone within it. That was what they were doing, anyway, wasn’t it? Deserting her, one by one.
“Are you more comfortable now?” asked Dr. Westbridge, hovering at the door.
Verity nodded. Anything not to talk. For her voice would tremble if she tried.
“I’m grateful to hear it. I confess a measure of satisfaction that my departure should affect you so. Naturally, as a physician, I wish no harm to anyone. But a gentleman appreciates when a woman feels faint at the thought of losing him.” He swallowed visibly. “The thing is, Miss Lockhart, I should not be speaking so plainly to you. Not yet, anyway. I am a man who likes to take his time in matters of the heart. But this development on the Continent has forced my hand. I must now say in haste what I would have expressed more gradually if there were time. You must know how much I admire you. Even more so, I can see a future with you.”
Verity was so startled by the doctor’s change in manner toward her that she did not hear the approaching footfalls. She was therefore doubly stunned when the face of William Cole reappeared over the shoulder of Dr. Westbridge just as the latter declared, “And so, my dear Miss Lockhart, I pledge myself to you. And ask you for your hand in marriage.”
Verity saw Mr. Cole’s face fall as if he had been struck. He stopped dead a few feet from them. Dr. Westbridge must have mistaken the meaning of her wide eyes, for he put a foot upon the carriage step to lean closer to her.
“I understand this is very sudden. I assure you it is not a sign of disrespect that I appear to act so impulsively. I have liked you from our first meeting. Yes, for our shared love of entomology. But also for your strength of character. I would add your beauty to your many fine qualities, but I would not have you think my feelings are so superficial.”
Verity watched as Mr. Cole took two steps back.
“I would marry you this moment, but there are banns to be called.”
