by Regina Scott
His father had been revered by the soldiers he tended. They knew their lives rested in his hands and that he would do all he could to be worthy of their trust. Linus felt the same way about his patients. Abigail had taken on the burden of supporting not only her family but others in the village. She should be commended.
Yet those who were used to leading sometimes found it hard to follow. And she had been raised by a man she could not trust. Would she trust any more easily now?
Mrs. Archer trotted back to the blanket, smile broadening her face. “Such a fine young man, your Ethan. You must be very proud of him, Doctor Bennett.”
“I am blessed to have such a son,” Linus assured her. “As you are blessed with a remarkable daughter.”
Abigail glanced at him, brows up in obvious surprise. Then her gaze traveled past him.
The smile she effected was patently false as she rose. “Someone’s watching us from the trees. It could be one of your French assailants. Hurry! Let’s catch him!”
Chapter Sixteen
Abigail dashed toward the trees, sure that Linus would follow. The shadow she’d spotted ran, and she chased him deeper into the green. Brown coat, brown breeches, brown boots, a cloth cap pulled low. She couldn’t even be sure of the color of his hair as he fled from sunlight to shade.
“Stop!” she shouted. “In the king’s name!”
That only made him run faster.
“Abigail!” Linus’s voice pulled her up short, and she waited for him to reach her side. He put a hand on her good arm. “Stay here.”
“Why?” she asked, but he was already striding past her. She followed.
They broke from the trees. Like courtiers before their king, the grass of the Downs bowed in the breeze. A lone rider was swiftly disappearing on the road to Upper Grace.
“He had a horse waiting.” Abigail threw up her hands, then winced as her arm gave her a nip.
Linus rounded on her. “He could have had colleagues waiting. Do you have any idea how dangerous it was to run after him? You aren’t even armed.”
“Neither are you,” she argued. “And you came along readily enough.”
“To protect you!” He put both hands on her shoulders and peered into her face. “You took a risk, and an unnecessary one. Do you think me incapable of defending myself and my family?”
“Apparently more capable than you think me,” Abigail said, pain spreading. “Please remove your hands. You’re hurting my arm.”
Immediately he stepped back, face paling. “Forgive me. Do you need a sling?”
“No. Nor do I need laudanum or an examination of any sort. I’m going to walk back to my mother now, and I don’t require your assistance to do that either.” Eyes burning, she turned and marched for the trees. He did not follow.
Abigail slowed her steps and rubbed at her eyes. What, was he no different than the other men she’d known after all? She’d thought more of him. Her father, Mr. Greer, even the vicar didn’t deem it a woman’s place to support herself or make decisions about life-and-death matters. She wasn’t foolish, uneducated, or incapable. Why must she trust that some fellow, who was just as fallible as she was, would come to her rescue in any situation? One never had before.
“Is everything all right?” her mother asked as she rejoined them. Her mother must have called Ethan in, for she sat on the blanket with one arm around the boy, who was once more clutching the kite, face tight.
“Fine, Mother,” she said, keeping her voice light for Ethan’s sake. “I repacked the hamper. When Doctor Bennett returns, we should go.”
Her mother’s face fell, and Ethan slumped. Abigail made herself bend to retrieve the parasol so they wouldn’t see her own disappointment.
Linus came out of the trees a short time later. Ethan watched him warily.
“What happened, Doctor Bennett?” her mother asked. “You and Abigail left us so suddenly.”
“I’m sorry if we concerned you,” he said. “There was a stranger in the wood. He rode away. No harm done.”
She didn’t believe that. Their watcher had escaped, and they had no idea if he had been a passing traveler curious about the castle or a French agent looking to capture Linus again. And the hopes she’d begun to cherish felt as trampled as the grass. Worse, the ache inside her refused to leave, spreading from her arm to her chest.
Linus walked beside his son on the way down the hill. Once again, Abigail brought up the rear. This time it felt lonely.
“If you would remove your items from the hamper,” he told her mother as they reached the flat, “I’ll take it back to the Mermaid on the way home. Thank you for making the arrangements.”
Her mother glanced from him to Abigail and back. “It doesn’t seem to have been worth it.”
“I’m sure Ethan enjoyed himself,” he said, putting an arm about his son.
Ethan took the hint. “Thank you very much for inviting us, Mrs. Archer, Miss Archer.”
Her mother’s face melted. “You are very, very welcome, dear boy. Any time.” She hurried to open the hamper and begin taking out the things that belonged to them.
“Will you still be available tomorrow morning to look after Ethan?” Linus asked her.
It was as if she wasn’t there. Abigail rubbed a hand on her arm. That only made him frown.
Her mother frowned as well as she finished sorting through the hamper. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“No reason at all,” Abigail assured her. She met Linus’s gaze. “You heard my mother. Ethan is always welcome. And I’ll be working in the shop, so you needn’t worry you’ll have to speak to me.”
Her mother gasped. “Abigail, how rude. Apologize.”
Not to him, she wouldn’t. “I’m sorry, Mother,” she said.
Her mother turned to Linus. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her, Doctor Bennett, but I hope you know you’re always welcome as well.”
“Until tomorrow,” he said, hefting the hamper. Ethan shuffled after him out the door.
Her mother shook her head. “You will end up an old maid if you don’t mend your ways.”
“What ways are those?” Abigail snapped, tossing the parasol onto the sofa. “Taking care of myself? Having an opinion? Protecting those I love? I can promise you, I will never change there.”
Her mother’s lips thinned. “I’m not going to live forever, you know. What will you do when I’m gone? You’ll be all alone.”
“I have friends, acquaintances, the shop customers,” Abigail countered. “I don’t need a husband, Mother. I didn’t particularly want one until…”
Her mother started nodding, white curls bouncing. “Until Doctor Bennett. I knew it. He’s the right one for you, Abigail. Give him a chance.”
Abigail closed her eyes. “He doesn’t want a woman like me, Mother.”
Arms came around her, and she leaned into her mother’s hug. “Then he isn’t the man I took him for,” her mother murmured. “Any man would be fortunate beyond words to win a bride like you.”
The tears came then. She couldn’t stop them. She cried for what might have been, for who she was determined to be, for whatever the future held. Her mother rubbed her back and crooned nonsense words. At length, Abigail pulled back.
“Better?” her mother asked, eyes bright with her own tears.
“Better,” Abigail agreed, attempting a smile. “And thank you.”
“You may thank me when you are standing at the altar,” her mother told her, chin coming up. “And I will have a few words to say to Doctor Bennett in the morning.”
Dread dropped like a lightning bolt. “Mother, you mustn’t say anything to him. This is between him and me.”
That chin edged higher. “It most certainly is not. I have a right to see my only daughter happy.”
“But not Doctor Bennett miserable,” Abigail told her. “Please. Leave this to us.”
Her mother eyed her. “You have two days. Then I scold him.”
Abigail started laughing de
spite herself. “Well, I’m sure he wouldn’t want that.”
She snapped a nod. “No, he wouldn’t. So, see that you bring him up to scratch before then.”
Up to scratch. Ready to propose. Is that what she wanted?
The wonder and joy of the idea rushed up on her like a wave crashing against the Dragon’s Maw. It seemed some part of her very much wanted him to propose.
Yet, what would she say to him that hadn’t already been said? He could not value her independence. She could not appreciate his command.
She made sure to be in the shop when he came with Ethan in the morning. But she sent word to Eva via one of Mr. Lawrence’s sons to request a moment of the magistrate’s time.
James Howland, Eva’s husband, arrived in the shop by ten. A tall man, with a head of golden blond hair and a stern face, he listened as Abigail quickly told him about what had been happening in his absence.
“Eva explained that the militia is protecting our physician by night,” he said when she finished. “From what you observed, it appears we may have to protect him by day as well.”
“That’s what I fear,” Abigail told him. “We seem to have a general direction of our adversaries—somewhere between here and Upper Grace. Mr. Greer told the detachment at West Creech about the matter, but I never heard the result.”
“A report was waiting for me,” he told her. “They located several houses that appeared to have been broken into, but of Doctor Bennett’s abductors, there was no sign.”
“Then we must look harder,” Abigail insisted.
“Perhaps,” he allowed. “But there is word of a press gang in the area. Men alone or even in small groups are likely to find themselves heading for a stint in the Royal Navy. I can’t send anyone who doesn’t own a red coat to mark his office.”
Even more than a month after the formation of the Grace-by-the-Sea militia, red coats were few and far between. Mr. Treacle, the tailor, had enlisted the aid of the Misses Pierce at the linens and trimmings shop as well as several talented local seamstresses to help him fill the orders.
“What then?” Abigail demanded. “Are we to sit and wait for the next attempt on his person?”
“For now, that may be our best approach.”
Why did no one else see the need to act? It had been the same way when her father had been alive. No one had listened to a frightened little girl then. Well, she was no longer that frightened little girl. She was capable.
Linus was going to receive her help, whether he wanted it or not.
~~~
“Are you angry with Miss Archer?” Ethan asked the next morning as he and Linus started toward High Street from the cottage.
Linus kept his gaze out over the blue-grey waters of the cove. “No. I said some things I regret, and I hurt her.”
A small hand slipped into his. Linus gripped it, thankful for the touch, the trust it implied.
“You can always say you’re sorry,” Ethan told him. “That’s what Charlie says when Mr. Wingate corrects him.”
He looked down at his son and smiled. “You and Charlie are getting along well, it seems.”
“He’s too bossy,” Ethan said with a prim set to his mouth. “But he’s very clever too.” He cast Linus a look out of the corner of his eyes. “He thinks we should learn to sail.”
Fear poked him in the ribs. Linus ignored it. “That might be a good idea living where we do. You should learn to swim too. Perhaps Charlie might suggest a teacher.”
“I’ll ask him,” Ethan said. “I hope Miss Archer forgives you. Mrs. Archer says she knows how to sail. Maybe she could teach us.”
Somehow, it didn’t surprise him to hear his son confirm that Abigail sailed. There seemed nothing she could not do. Except, maybe, tolerate his foibles.
He could not blame her if she didn’t want to talk to him. He’d made a mull of things. When she’d run toward danger, every part of him had frozen. Images of gunshot wounds, bayonet slashes, had filled his mind. Then he’d rushed after her, determined to protect her or die trying.
The depths of his feelings had shocked him, and he’d pushed her away. The whole situation was too much like life with Catriona.
He could not deny the lift of his spirits when she was waiting just inside the door of the flat when he brought Ethan that morning. Gowned in a shade of green that matched her eyes, she stood stiffly as her mother greeted them and took Ethan over to the sofa.
“I alerted the magistrate to what happened at the castle,” she said, chin up. “And Charlie Lawrence stopped by a bit ago to let me know Mr. Greer has called the monthly board meeting for tomorrow night. It will be at the Swan at seven. Mother can watch Ethan.”
She thought of everything. “Thank you,” he said. “Will you be coming to the spa later? I know Mrs. Denby was hoping for help with the Regatta.”
“I need to keep the shop open,” she said. Then she met his gaze, like the flash of a beacon far out at sea. “As an independent woman, I have responsibilities.”
“And your attention to them is admirable,” he assured her. She waited. He swallowed. Why was it so hard to speak his mind?
Abigail, forgive me for being a fool.
Abigail, I’m afraid to fall in love.
“Until tomorrow night, then,” he said and bowed himself out.
She did not meet him at the door that evening or the following morning, and disappointment rode his shoulders like a black crow on a fence. He was so eager for the board meeting, he arrived before the others. He watched as Greer, Lawrence, Ellison, Mrs. Kirby, and Mrs. Catchpole came in and took up their places, chatting amongst themselves. And he felt as if he truly drew breath when Abigail came in and sat at his right.
Greer convened the meeting then, nodding to each of his board members, then turning to Linus. “Doctor Bennett, tell us how your first few weeks have gone.”
He should have thought they’d want an update. “Things are going well,” he allowed.
They waited expectantly.
“If I may,” Abigail put in, drawing a paper from her reticule. “I helped at the spa while Mrs. Denby was on her honeymoon, so I was privy to some of the activities there. I took the liberty of compiling a few statistics.” She glanced at the parchment. “Since Doctor Bennett arrived, appointments have risen three hundred percent.”
Murmurs of appreciation passed around the table. Since there had been no physician and no appointments before Linus had arrived, he could not put much faith in the number.
“Once Mrs. Denby returned, attendance also tripled,” she continued, “and those who had planned to stay only a week have lengthened their visits.”
“Subscriptions are higher than they’ve ever been,” Mr. Lawrence added with a proud smile. “I project a very healthy dividend for the village if this keeps up.”
Mrs. Catchpole started applauding, and the others joined in.
“So we have more than enough money to lease Doctor Bennett a bigger house,” Abigail said as the sound faded.
Mrs. Catchpole blinked. Ellison and Lawrence frowned.
Greer sat straighter. “Doctor Bennett has only his son. What need could he have for a larger house?”
“Because he could expand his practice,” Abigail answered. She leaned forward. “Imagine—the entire village having access to as fine a doctor as our spa guests.”
Mrs. Kirby nodded. Ellison still looked skeptical.
“Only fair,” Mrs. Catchpole said. “Doctor Chance helped everyone. He had room at his house on High Street.”
Mrs. Kirby glanced to Greer. “There’s a fine house just up the street from Shell Cottage available for lease right now.”
“The owner?” Mr. Greer asked.
Her smile dimmed a little. “The Earl of Howland.”
Greer shook his head. “He’ll make us pay dearly. He always has.”
Mrs. Catchpole cleared her throat, bringing all gazes her way. “You probably know that the former earl has passed away. You didn’t hear it from me, but Mr
. Pym, the magistrate’s man, came to ask me about staff for the castle. Seems the new earl means to take up residence with us for a while. I hear he’s far more accommodating than his father.”
Mrs. Kirby beamed. “The earl in residence? He’s still relatively young, quite handsome, and a widower who will be in want of a wife. He could be the making of us!”
“I predict subscriptions will soar yet again,” Lawrence said, grinning as well.
“It won’t be enough,” Greer predicted. And Abigail thought Linus was too cautious! “We have already agreed to pay for Mrs. Denby’s time without deducting anything from Doctor Bennett’s pay.”
“And Mrs. Tully’s time,” Abigail reminded him.
He grimaced. “Exactly so. Earl or no earl, we will be tight on funds for a while.”
“I would be willing to take a lower salary,” Linus put in. “With the understanding that I could keep what my village patients could afford to pay.”
Greer snorted. “Believe me, that’s little enough.”
“And we could rent out the cottage on the shore,” Abigail reminded him. “That should offset some of the cost as well.”
Greer cocked his head and studied Linus. “Perhaps if Doctor Bennett would accept a fifty percent cut in pay…”
“Ten percent,” Abigail argued before Linus could respond.
Greer narrowed his eyes. “Thirty.”
“Fifteen,” she countered.
“Twenty-five,” Linus said.
“I motion that Doctor Bennett take a twenty percent cut in pay to go toward leasing a larger house for the purpose of treating anyone in the area,” Mrs. Kirby rattled off as if she feared interruption. “And that the Spa Corporation pay the lease on said house and lease the cottage he’s been using.”
“I second,” Mr. Ellison barked.
Greer sighed. “All in favor?”
“Aye,” they chorused. Greer didn’t ask whether any were opposed.
“Thank you,” Linus told Abigail when the meeting ended a short while later, after the members had settled some other fees and assessments.
