by Betty Neels
Now in the narrow hall, she stopped to study Loveday. ‘Your mother had green eyes,’ she observed. ‘I’m glad that we shall have the chance to get to know each other. You may call me Aunt Leticia.’
She turned to the doctor. ‘You had a good journey?’ She looked past him. ‘The cat and your dog? They are in the car?’
‘A very pleasant drive. Bob and Sam are in the car.’
‘Good. There is a conservatory leading from the kitchen; Sam may go there for the moment. There is food—everything that he may need. Bob may come into the sitting room.’
She was urging Loveday before her and said over her shoulder, ‘Her cases can wait; we will have tea. Take your coats off.’
Loveday did as she was told, and the doctor, amused, did the same, with a nostalgic memory of a fierce, much loved nanny speaking to him in just such a voice.
They had tea, a proper tea, sitting at a round table under the windows while the dogs and cats lay in a companionable heap before the fire. Presently a cautious Sam crept in and joined them, and since none of the animals did more than open an eye he settled down with all the appearance of someone who had come home…
The doctor fetched the cases presently and took his leave, but not before Aunt Leticia had bidden him to Sunday lunch.
‘I attend Matins on Sunday mornings,’ she told him, ‘but I’m sure that you and Loveday will wish to discuss her future. A good walk in the fresh air will do you both good. Fetch her at ten o’clock. You can walk across to Holne and have coffee there. Lunch will be at one o’clock and then she and I will go to Evensong.’
The doctor, recognising an ally, agreed meekly, thanked the old lady for his tea, said a cheerful goodnight to Loveday and took himself and Bob off to the pub, where he was welcomed like an old friend. And later, after a good supper and a quick walk with Bob, he went to bed and slept the sleep of a man untroubled by his future.
Loveday, having repressed a strong desire to run out of the house after him, followed her aunt upstairs to a little room overlooking the back garden and the moor beyond. It was austerely furnished, and had the look of not having had an occupant for a long time, but there were books on the bedside table and a vase of chrysanthemums on the old-fashioned dressing table, and when she was left to unpack her things and opened the wardrobe and stiff drawers there was the delightful scent of lavender.
She went downstairs presently and helped to feed the cats and Tim, surprised to find that Sam seemed quite at home.
‘I have always found animals better friends than people,’ said Aunt Leticia, ‘and they know that. When you go into the garden take care; there is a family of hedgehogs in the compost heap and rabbits in the hedge.’
They spent a pleasant evening together, looking at old photos of family Loveday scarcely remembered, and then, over their supper, Miss West began asking careful questions.
Loveday, enjoying the luxury of having someone to talk to, told her about Miss Cattell and then the doctor. Talking about him made him seem nearer, and her aunt, looking at her niece’s ordinary face, saw how it lighted up when she talked of him.
Well, reflected Miss West, Loveday was an ice child. No looks worth mentioning, but with eyes like that looks didn’t matter. The doctor was a good deal older, of course, but she didn’t think that would matter in the least. He was clearly in love and suspected that Loveday was too, but for some reason she was denying it, even to herself. Ah, well, thought Miss West wisely, all that’s needed is a little patience—and absence makes the heart grow fonder…
Loveday, with Sam for company, slept dreamlessly. Her last thoughts had been of the doctor and were the first on waking too. He would go away today, but there was the morning first…
She got up, dressed and went downstairs. She helped get the breakfast and saw to the animals and her aunt, who had liked her on sight, found the liking turning to affection. Loveday was a sensible girl who made no fuss and helped around the house without making a song and dance about it. She’ll make Dr Fforde a good wife, reflected Aunt Leticia.
The doctor knocked on the door at ten o’clock, and after a few minutes chatting with Miss West he marched Loveday off at a brisk pace. Bob had come with him but he had already had a walk and now he was sitting contentedly in the sitting room with Tim. As the doctor explained, a long walk would be too tiring for his weak legs.
‘Holne is about a mile away,’ he told Loveday as they took the narrow road past the church. ‘I’m told that we can get coffee there at the pub. Then we can follow the river towards Widecombe. There’s a path.’
He began to talk about everything and nothing, with not a word about the future, and because she was so happy with him she forgot for the moment that she had no future and chatted away about the dogs and cats and the hedgehogs in the garden.
‘I do like my aunt,’ she told him. ‘It must be difficult for her to have me living with her, even for a few days; she’s lived alone for a long time and she told me that she was happy to be on her own. I expect she knows everyone in the village—she doesn’t seem lonely.’
‘I’m sure she will enjoy your company. Here’s Holne and the pub—shall we stop for coffee?’
The coffee was excellent and there was a great log fire in the bar, but they didn’t stay too long. They took the path close to the river and now it was the doctor’s turn to tell her about his own life. Oh, yes, he told her when she asked, he had a mother, living in Lincolnshire where his father had had a practice before he died. ‘And sisters,’ he went on. ‘You have met Margaret at the consulting room.’
Loveday came to a halt. ‘I thought that she—that you—well, I thought you were going to marry her.’
She went red, although she looked him in the face.
He didn’t allow himself to smile. So that was why she had pokered up… Another obstacle out of the way, he reflected. First Charles and now this. The temptation to take her in his arms there and then was great, but there was one more obstacle—the difference in their ages. He must give her time to think about that…
He said lightly, ‘I’ve always been too busy to get married.’ They were walking on now. ‘And you, Loveday, have you no wish to marry?’
‘Yes, but only to the right man.’ She didn’t want to talk about that. ‘Do you suppose we should be turning back?’
He accepted her change in the conversation without comment.
They walked back the way they had come and the chilly bright morning began to cloud over. When they were within sight of the cottage, Loveday said, ‘You will let me know…? I’m sorry to keep reminding you, but I’d like to be certain.’
‘I promise you that I will let you know, and now that we are no longer working together could you not call me Andrew?’
She smiled suddenly. ‘I’ve always called you Andrew inside my head,’ she told him.
Lunch was a cheerful meal. Aunt Leticia might live alone, but she was aware of all that went on in the world so far removed from her home. There was plenty to talk about—until she said reluctantly, ‘You will want to be on your way, and I mustn’t keep you. Loveday, get your coat and walk up to the pub and see Dr Fforde safely away.’
The walk was short—far too short. Only a matter of a couple of minutes. Loveday stood by the car while the doctor invited Bob onto the back seat, closed the car door and turned to her.
He took her hands in his and stood looking down at her. The scarf she had tied over her mousy locks had done nothing to enhance her appearance. She looked about sixteen years old, and the last obstacle, the difference in their ages, was suddenly very real. He would marry her, but not until she had had the chance to lead her own life to meet people—young men—who would make her laugh as Charles had done.
All the things he wanted to say were unsaid. He wished her goodbye and got into the car and drove away.
She watched it through tear-filled eyes until it disappeared round the curve in the lane. Just for a moment she had thought that he was going to say something—tha
t he would see her again, that they would keep in touch, remain friends…
She wiped her eyes and went back to Aunt Leticia. She helped with the washing up and then took the elderly Tim for his ambling walk, and later went to Evensong with her aunt. No one, looking at her quiet face, would have guessed how unhappy she was.
The days which followed were quiet, centred round the simple life Aunt Leticia lived, but there was always something to do. She often walked to Holne, a mile away, where there was a Post Office, and to the nearby farm for eggs, and halfway through each week she was sent to Ashburton on the weekly bus, armed with a shopping list—groceries and meat, wool for her aunt’s knitting, and food for the cats and Tim. There was the weekly excitement of the travelling library, and the daily collecting of the newspapers from the pub.
The landlord liked a good gossip in his slow friendly voice; he was too kind a man to ask questions, but life in the village was quiet and her arrival had made a nice little break now that there were no visitors passing through. He had taken to the doctor, too, and had several times confided in his wife that there was more to his visits than met the eye…
It was late on a Saturday evening by the time the doctor arrived at the pub. It was too late to call on Miss West, so it was early on Sunday morning when Loveday got up to let Tim and the cats out and saw him coming down the lane.
She ran to the door and flung it wide as he reached it, and went into his arms with the unselfconsciousness of a child.
He closed the door gently behind them and then wrapped his arms around her again.
‘I had to come. I had to know. You see, my darling Loveday, I’m in love with you…’
‘Then why didn’t you say so?’ she asked fiercely.
‘I’m so much older than you, and you have never had the chance to meet men of your own age. Only Charles.’
She dismissed Charles with a sniff. ‘Is that your only reason?’ She hesitated. ‘I’m dull and plain and not at all clever. I’d be a very unexciting wife for someone like you.’
‘I find you very exciting,’ he told her, and kissed her, and presently said, ‘You shall have all the time in the world to decide if you will marry me. I’ll go back to London this evening and not come again until you can give me an answer.’
She looked at him then, and said in a shaky little voice, ‘I’ll stay here as long as you want me to, but I’ll give you my answer now. I love you too, and I’ll marry you—today if we could.’
He looked down at her earnest, loving face and smiled. Fourteen years were nothing; they simply didn’t matter. He kissed her again, very thoroughly—a delightful experience which, naturally enough, was repeated.
Aunt Leticia, coming downstairs to put the kettle on made no effort to disturb them. Putting tea leaves into the teapot, she reflected that she would give them the silver pot which had belonged to her great-great-grandmother for a wedding present. She took her tea and sat by the Aga, waiting patiently. Let them have their lovely moment.
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IMPRINT: Mills & Boon
ISBN: 9781460896600
TITLE: THE DOCTOR’S GIRL
First Australian Publication 2013
Copyright © 2013 Betty Neels
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilisation of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission of the publisher, Harlequin Mills & Boon®, Locked Bag 7002, Chatswood D.C. N.S.W., Australia 2067.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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