Page 10 of Bernadette’s Dashing Doctor (The Bookshop Belles #4)

CHAPTER 10

A New Vicar And An Old Foe

I t was lovely to see a carefree smile on Bernadette’s face. The young woman he’d danced with the night before had appeared apprehensive and unsure of herself the whole evening. Yes, she had been polite, danced beautifully and smiled at the right times, but the worry lines on her forehead were ever-present. Today, they were gone, and a pang of jealousy caught him off guard. He should not feel that way. He had no claim or understanding. He also most likely had no rights to even attempt courting her; she was far too well-connected, even if her immediate family was in trade. One sister was a countess and another would eventually be a baroness!

So why was he thinking of the happy Mr Charles as some kind of … threat? Oh dear, that would never do.

“I am concerned for your well being,” he managed to say. It was the truth, although not all of it. “Mrs Baxter has been spreading nasty lies. You were very brave to speak up to her last night.”

“Thank you,” she said, but her forehead creased again in worry.

It made his stomach flip to see those lines return.

“I don’t mean to speak of bad things. No matter what your cousins say, I know you are not capable of harming people. It’s not in your nature.”

She rewarded him with a gasp and a broad smile that filled him with sunshine. “That does mean a lot to me, I thank you for it.”

“I’ll be happy to refute any such gossip with that sentiment, for I know it to be true.”

They were still holding hands, and neither of them appeared to want to alter that arrangement. A sense of comfort nestled upon Glynn as they sat there with the sun shining brightly and the noise and bustle of Hatfield continued outside.

“I think,” he started, knowing once he started he had to go on, “We did rather get off to a bad start, did we not?”

She nodded in agreement, then shrugged and added, “Just a little.”

“I can see now what a valuable contribution you make in Hatfield, both with your herbs and your concern for people, and the bookshop for that matter. I find myself in your debt, I would not have been so easily accepted as the town doctor without your assistance and recommendations.”

The words came as something of a surprise to him as he said them, but they were the truth. Calmness soothed him for having said them.

“That is generous of you,” she said, her voice soft. “Thank you.”

The air crackled with unspoken feelings. He summoned his courage to ask if he might court her when Mrs Bell suddenly came through the front door with a gasp.

“Oh! You’re still here, Bernadette!”

She slipped her hands out of his and the moment was lost.

Glynn much preferred the Hospital Committee meetings to the Town Council meetings. They were better run and far more congenial. As he waited for Lord Ferndale to arrive at the next Town Council, Joshua Baxter wasted no time in sidling up to him.

With a low voice dripping with threat, he said, “Everyone knows it was the youngest Baxter girl who had the tools, the opportunity and the motive to do the old reverend in.”

Glynn bristled with indignation at Mr Baxter calling Bernadette a ‘girl’. And the whole assumption that she was capable of murder.

“You are speaking of a member of your own family, your kin,” Glynn said, trying to appeal to his humanity.

Joshua Baxter puffed himself up like an angry cat. “As the town magistrate, I must be objective in all things, even if it is a relative!”

Glynn pretended to sneeze to disguise the roll of his eyes. Objective, my foot!

When Mr Charles arrived, Glynn greeted him warmly and welcomed him to the council. It was a relief not to be the newest member any more. Mr Charles replaced the late Reverend Millings, altering the balance of power. It eased the pressure on Glynn, who’d previously had the deciding vote.

Joshua Baxter took his seat next to Mr Burton as the meeting came to order. They indicated Mr Charles should sit in the seat vacated by the reverend. The man smiled with good cheer and accepted it.

Lord Ferndale took his seat at the head of the table and welcomed all, then read through the list of items on the agenda.

“First order of business,” Joshua volunteered, “Should be a moment’s silence for the dear departed Reverend Millings.”

Lord Ferndale said, “That is listed in the condolence motion farther down. We will get to it in good time.”

“I object!” Joshua said. “I call for a vote to change the standing orders to allow a moment’s silence for a valued man of the cloth and community faith leader, whose life was cut short so terribly!”

Glynn couldn’t keep pretending to sneeze every time he rolled his eyes. A doctor sneezing wasn’t exactly a subtle thing. They’d wonder if he’d caught a chill.

Lord Ferndale said, “Fine, we shall put it to the vote to change the standing orders. Those in favour show your hands.”

Several hands rose, but as Glynn counted he realised they would not have enough.

“Those opposed?” Lord Ferndale asked, raising his own hand.

Glynn put his up, as did the others. They had enough votes even without Mr Charles, who appeared momentarily confused.

The new vicar turned to Lord Ferndale for clarification. “Does this mean there won’t be a condolence motion at all?”

“Not in the least, we will have one in due course, it is the fourth item on the agenda,” Ferndale confirmed.

“Well in that case,” Mr Charles raised his hand, “Let’s stick to the order of business.”

Glynn approved of the new vicar’s common sense already. He could see them becoming good friends before long.

Lord Ferndale counted and said, “Six Yeas, Eight Nays, the motion is dismissed. First item of business…”

Joshua leapt to his feet in anger, spittle flying from his lips. “This is a terrible state of affairs, not paying respects to such a bastion of the community as the late Reverend Millings.”

“Sit down, Mister Baxter,” Lord Ferndale did not raise his voice, but his tone was stern. “We will get to the item faster if you stop interrupting.”

Joshua remained standing. “You’re just protecting that spiteful herb girl. Everyone knows she had a hand in his demise.”

“Now see here,” Glynn rose to his feet. “That’s slander! She did not lay a finger on him!”

“She didn’t have to, she poisoned his food!”

“Steady on,” Lord Ferndale said firmly. “This meeting shall come to order.”

Glynn sat down and turned to Lord Ferndale. “The only way that’s possible is if the reverend dined separately from his wife and daughter for every meal. That’s highly unlikely.”

“Are you blaming young Bernadette?” It was one of Joshua’s cronies asking that. Glynn thought it might be Mr Wellworth, but he couldn’t remember their names as they usually all agreed with each other and voted as one. What an interesting development.

Joshua confirmed, “Yes, who else do you know who gets about town at all hours with poisonous herbs?”

“It’s not like her, though,” Mr Wellwood said as he scratched his chin in thought. “She helped my dear wife when her gout flared up. And she didn’t need to, what with my wife and yours being such boon companions.”

That started a few more of them talking about how Miss Baxter had helped them with various aches and injuries, with care and concern for their wellbeing instead of who they might be friends with.

Joshua slumped back into his chair, defeated from the voices on his own side.

“First order of business,” Lord Ferndale resumed, after once more calling the meeting to order, “Welcoming the new member of council and new vicar of Hatfield, Mr Charles.”

That earned a quick round of applause and Mr Charles thanked them. They reached the condolence motion in good time, and Joshua tried one more time to speak at length about the man of God, so cruelly cut down in his prime, but any time he tried to suggest a connection between Bernadette and his passing, he was shushed from his own supporters.

Glynn could not stop grinning.

As soon as the meeting finished, Joshua was up and out of the building. Lord Ferndale turned to Glynn and said, “That man has to go. Our town cannot have a magistrate who is so blinkered and holds grudges.”

Glynn nodded. “Do you have anyone in mind?”

“I do, but first he must return safely from France before we can do anything.”

He nodded again, realisation dawning. “You’re thinking of Mr Jackson?”

“The same.”

“He’d be excellent for the position,” Glynn said. “Let’s hope he returns in one piece.”

It wasn’t until he was back in Mrs Bell’s house that Glynn began to chuckle. Mr Jackson would become the new magistrate, and he was Louise Baxter’s sweetheart. Mr Ferndale was their self-appointed grandfather, owing to the eldest sister marrying his grandson. Mr Charles had arrived at the behest of another Baxter sister who’d married an earl.

It wasn’t Lord Ferndale running Hatfield, it was the Baxter sisters!

And honestly, they were doing a mighty fine job of it.

Joy returned to Hatfield in the form of Mr Shaun Jackson, who arrived with another soldier who had a broken leg. Glynn was glad to be able to treat his injuries.

His patient went by the name of Sobriety Jones, and before they realised, the two of them were conversing in Welsh

“For some battlefield treatment, they did a good job resetting it,” Glynn said. “There’s no sign of infection either, which is excellent.”

“Hurts like the devil though,” Riot admitted as he stared through the front window to the bookshop across the street. “I need to stand tall at my wedding to Rosie.”

“Let’s measure you for crutches. Now that we have tradesmen back in town, it shouldn't take too long to make a set.”

“I was hoping for just a cane.”

“Crutches first, to help with the healing, then a cane for balance. All things in the right order.”

They were both looking across to the bookshop. Bernadette walked out with her regular basket and set off down the street.

Riot looked at him and said, “From the look on your face, I see you two won’t be far off standing up either.”

His eyes widened. “Is it that obvious?”

Riot laughed. “I was only guessing, but you just gave it away!”

“I’m not… we’re not… she doesn’t much like me,” Glynn prevaricated.

“Eh, don’t think Rosie thought much of me at first, being a Welshman and not Catholic like her, but I won her over.” Riot grinned. “Patience, man. Patience.”

Shouts from the street roused Glynn in the middle of the night. Sleepy and confused, he thought about lifting his window sash and asking whoever it was to keep it down. People had been revelling and partying so much since the soldiers had returned. And there had been many more injuries from people falling down drunk and hurting themselves.

Looking out the window, he made out the shape of somebody banging on the bookshop door, urging them to wake up because of a fire. Definitely not revellers then!

Dressing quickly, he ran downstairs and out onto the High Street. It was hard to see much, and he had no idea what time it was. Noise came from the lane between the bookshop and the Inn. A clash of bodies and a fight of some kind. He might need to reset a bone or treat bruising.

There was Riot, with one of his new crutches at least - he truly refused to use both, which would set his recovery back. “Best check on the Baxters, there’s been a fire upstairs,” the Welshman called to him.

Glynn rushed back to his examination room and grabbed his travelling bag, then charged back across the street and into the bookshop. “Miss Bernadette, Miss Louise? Mrs Poole?”

He heard a young boy’s voice, “Up here!”

It was Brutus. He was past the ability to keep up with how many people worked or lived upstairs any more, he only wanted to make sure Bernadette was all right.

Miss Louise presented herself first. “I’ve put it out,” she said, “it was contained to my room.”

“Well done,” he said. “Did you breathe in any of the smoke?”

“Not much. My hands are starting to sting a little,” she said, holding her palms out.

Bernadette came into the room and lit some candles. Mrs Poole and Rosie arrived, cinching dressing cloaks.

“I’ll get some salve,” Bernadette said.

She hadn’t even seen her sister’s hands, but upon examination, salve was precisely what Louise would need for her burns. They were not extensive, thankfully. “They should heal in a few days.”

Miss Louise was impatient to get to Shaun, so he didn’t keep her any longer. He tried really hard not to focus on Bernadette first as he asked the rest of them, “Is the fire completely out?”

“I’ll check,” Brutus said, heading into one of the rooms. “No more smoke, but it smells like lantern oil in here.”

“The fumes might make everyone dizzy. Best to close the door,” he suggested.

“The window’s broken,” Brutus confirmed.

“That could help air it out somewhat? I suggest nobody stay in there or risk breathing in oil vapour or stepping on broken glass until daylight tomorrow.”

They were startled and confused, but otherwise unharmed.

He had to check again with Miss Bernadette. “Will you be all right?”

“Thank you for your concern. I will be.”

He nodded and grabbed his valise, making his way next door to the Red Lion, but nobody there was hurt. The arsonist had been caught, apparently, which was a huge relief. Hearing that it was Joshua Baxter’s teenage son Benjamin was a shock, though. Had Joshua known? Sent the boy to target the bookshop and the Baxter girls? Rage rose up in Glynn’s chest, and he didn’t even ask if the boy had been injured. Shaun Jackson had the situation well in hand and the culprit locked in a coal-cellar. There was nothing for Glynn to do, so he made his way slowly back to Mrs Bell’s.

He sat up all night in his room, watching the bookshop. Just to make sure nothing else happened. He could not stop thinking about Bernadette, about the way she had looked with her dark hair tumbling about her shoulders, a robe thrown on hastily over her nightgown and her feet bare.

She’d looked fragile . He’d never thought of her that way; although she did have a generally quiet demeanour and was physically quite small, the confidence with which she always expressed her opinions and the respect she commanded from the townsfolk made her seem larger than life.

Thinking of her trapped in a burning building made Glynn feel quite sick. Tired and gritty-eyed, he still kept vigil until morning came.