Page 11 of Bernadette’s Dashing Doctor (The Bookshop Belles #4)

CHAPTER 11

Discoveries

B ernadette walked alongside Glynn to church on Saturday to resume their records search. Their gaits began to match, and he was an easy person to walk alongside - he didn’t race ahead or dawdle.

“I appreciate your pace,” she said. “My sisters tell me I walk too fast, although I find that ridiculous - I am the shortest of us, surely their longer legs should make it easy for them to keep up!”

“A brisk stroll is good for one’s health,” he said. “I’m not going too slowly, am I?”

They shared a smile as they turned the corner. The lilies and foxgloves growing on approach were in full bloom, as if they too had turned out to welcome the new vicar.

Like the previous time they visited, there were women sweeping the floor and decorating the altar with flowers. Mr Charles was in the vestry, a small room off to the side of the church. They made themselves known and he greeted them with a happy smile. But when they stated their purpose for their visit, his expression quickly turned glum.

He pointed to the large open volume on his desk. “Terribly sorry, I’m using them at present. What with all the banns and marriage licenses required of late. We can arrange another time, of course, but today is not very convenient.”

“Ahh, of course,” Dr Williams said.

Bernadette noticed Mr Charles was holding his wrist and rubbing it a little. “Is your arm giving you trouble?”

“Well, yes,” he made a soft laugh as if it was nothing to worry about. “Rather a lot of writing of late.”

Glynn offered, “As we’re already here, would you like us to take a look?”

Bernadette hugged the knowledge to herself that he’d used the term ‘we’ instead of ‘I’. As if he considered her a capable assistant or co-worker.

“House visits! How marvellous!” Mr Charles said. “And I could use a reprieve.”

Glynn took a seat and ran through some tests. They were of the “Flex your fingers, does that hurt?” and “Turn your wrist to the left, then right, is there pain?” variety.

Meanwhile, Bernadette quickly looked at the pile of licences and had an idea.

“They’re all the same?” she said to Mr Charles. “Except for the names and the dates, of course.”

“Yes, and there’s rather a lot that needs to be written out on each license. Please don’t take this as a complaint. It’s rather lovely to have the honour of joining people together under God.”

“Why don’t we save your arm from further injury by getting forms made at the printer instead?”

Glynn and Mr Charles looked up at her directly, both their faces beaming with approval.

“Capital idea!” Mr Charles said. “I should have thought of that!”

“That will reduce your muscle strain a great deal,” Glynn confirmed.

Beaming with satisfaction, Bernadette grabbed a spare piece of paper and said, “I’ll copy the requirements, and leave spaces for the names and dates, and your signature as well. I’m sure Mr Black will be only too happy to prioritise this job, considering how many people are in a rush to marry.”

Mr Charles gave a good-natured laugh and said, “Then you’ll have access to the records sooner!”

As they bid Mr Charles farewell, they walked to Mr Black’s. He was delighted with the task and immediately grabbed his cases of cast metal letters to set the words onto their sticks, and began placing each stick into the frame.

They left him to it and began the walk back to the bookshop.

Bernadette said, “I was wondering whether we should try the Catholic church too, but they’re probably just as busy as Mr Charles with marriage licenses.”

“In which case,” Glynn said, “Their priest may have the same injuries as Mr Charles. Shall we visit?”

“Excellent idea,” Bernadette said, practically walking on air with happiness. He trusted her craft and her suggestions, in stark contrast to when they first met.

Later that day, they called in to Mr Black’s with another printing job, this time for the Catholics. They paid him for the prints he’d already made for Mr Charles and Glynn accepted the bundle.

“I’ve had another idea,” he said. “I could design a form for my patients. No rush for those, but I’ll definitely be back with a design for you.”

Mr Black was delighted.

Bernadette asked whether she might have some copies as well. Then their records would be consistent. A place for name, address, date of birth and any previous major illnesses or injuries.

“That will be tremendously helpful. The midwives could use them too. We’ll probably need a hundred copies, but I’m sure Lord Ferndale won’t mind the bill.”

“He’ll be so happy to know the people of Hatfield are in such good hands,” Bernadette agreed.

“We’ll designate a place to keep the records in the hospital,” Glynn said happily, “and then we’ll all be able to look at them - you, me, the midwives, perhaps Mr Lennox too. All the health professionals of Hatfield working together.” He caught the amused sidelong glance Bernadette was casting in his direction, and grinned back. “Yes, I’m well aware I’m singing a very different tune to when I first arrived. I’m a wise enough man to learn from my mistakes!”

Church on Sunday was a crowded event. Word had spread about the new vicar being kind, but more importantly, young and handsome. That explained the extra ribbons on the young ladies’ dresses and their rapt attention when he spoke.

How much the mood had changed, too. Without Joshua or Phoebe, Bernadette didn’t feel as if she were being examined and found lacking.

During the uplifting service, Mr Charles gave thanks for those who had returned from the war and encouraged the congregation to pray for the families of those who had died or not yet come home.

Mr Charles read Louise and Shaun’s banns for a third time, and a slew of others including for Rosie and Sobriety. Bernadette’s brow wrinkled in confusion until Glynn leaned over and explained she probably knew him as Riot.

“Rosie’s Catholic, though,” Bernadette whispered. “Why is Mr Charles calling banns? They’ll marry in the Catholic church…”

“Because Riot’s not Catholic, he’s Methodist. I think they’re just covering all bases calling the banns in both places!”

Louise and Shaun would be getting married the following morning, and Bernadette was delighted for them. That meant their regular lunch at Ferndale Hall would be briefer than usual, as they needed to return home to get ready.

As they finished their light meal, Bernadette noticed Miss Yates having trouble standing up. In a heartbeat she was by her side.

“Stop fussing,” Miss Yates said as Bernadette took her hand.

“I’m not fussing, I’m concerned.”

Glynn was on the other side of Miss Yates a moment later, but he did not interrupt or take over.

“Is it a megrim?” Bernadette asked.

Miss Yates shook her head. “No no. I stood up too quickly. Little dizzy, but it’s gone now. I’m fine, really.”

Bernadette looked to Glynn and saw her own worry reflected in his face. “You need to drink more tea, Miss Yates,” she said gently.

“I prefer sherry,” the old lady complained.

“Nothing wrong with a little glass of an evening, Miss Yates. But I think it might be contributing to your discomfort. Tea will help.”

“That’s precisely what I would have said,” Glynn said, bestowing a warm smile on them both. “You’re lucky to have such a knowledgeable friend, Miss Yates.”

In the carriage back to Hatfield, Shaun and Louise were lost in their own little bubble of happiness, and Mrs Poole and Brutus both dozed off to sleep, leaving Bernadette and Glynn to chat.

“Thank you for your confidence in my assessment of Miss Yates,” Bernadette said, still brimming with pleasant feelings that he’d so readily agreed with her.

“Happy to. Lately, I have been reading about the work of Stephen Hales, and his observations on the pressure of blood in the body. I think it’s a marvellous addition to medical knowledge. I wonder if Miss Yates has too much or too little.”

“Blood pressure ?” Bernadette was confused. “Does that play a part in people being thirsty?”

They became caught up in medical conversations, theorising about how strongly a heart pumped blood through the body, drinking tea or small beer to replace lost fluids, and concepts of people losing blood pressure perhaps as they aged. It fascinated Bernadette and filled Glynn with curiosity and wonder.

They didn’t even notice when the carriage came to a stop outside the bookshop.

Shaun playfully kicked Glynn on the foot and said, “I thought we were in our own world, but you two even have your own language!”

They all burst into laughter as they climbed out of the carriage.

Shaun grabbed Glynn by the shoulder and said, “This way,” as he took them across the street to Mrs Bell’s.

“I shan't sleep tonight,” Louise said, “I’m too excited about tomorrow.”

That statement turned out to be a complete lie. Bernadette checked on her later and found Louise blissfully asleep in her room. The temporary boards were still over her window, but at least there was no more broken glass. No more arson attacks, either. Even better, no more impromptu visits from Joshua and Phoebe with their horrid demands, now that they’d been forced to leave for good with Benjamin after the little beast had been exposed as the arsonist.

Life was good, she thought with a sigh.

Now if only their father would come home, and they could prevail in the Chancery Court, life would be perfect.

Mrs Poole and Rosie fussed over Louise’s hair. Bernadette sat Brutus on a chair and brushed his hair into a neat centre part. The doorbell to the shop tinkled and Bernadette had to leave Brutus to his own hair and see who it might be.

“Terribly sorry, we’re closed this morning because we’re going to a wedding,” she called out as she descended the stairs.

There was nobody about. She checked the sign on the front door, but it was still turned to ‘Closed’. Well then, who had rung the bell?

Someone sniffled between the shelves.

Following the sound, Bernadette suddenly stopped as she found Ruth, hiding in a dark corner and crying. “Ruth? What’s the matter?”

The girl sniffed miserably, her face pale and terrified as she looked up at Bernadette. “The herbs didn’t work,” she whimpered.

“Is this about your friend?” Confusion swirled. “The one you gave the herbs to?”

Ruth shook her head and sniffled some more, then pulled her jacket in tightly over her shoulders as if needing to comfort herself.

Bernadette knew that look. She stepped closer and wrapped her arms about the young girl. “Everyone is upstairs, nobody will hear us. How can I help?”

“I need more herbs,” Ruth said. “I lied when I said it was for a friend. I took them as you said but it didn’t work, so I need more. This can’t happen.”

She needed love and comfort, with no judgement, but surely Ruth couldn’t mean what Bernadette thought? The girl was barely fourteen, and a young, sheltered fourteen at that! “Tell me all, Ruth, and I’ll help as much as I can.”

“Please don’t tell anyone. But I’m with child.”

Shock reverberated through Bernadette. The poor girl was still a child herself. She probably didn’t even know what was happening. “Was it Benjamin? Did he make you do it?”

Ruth leaned back, her blotchy face still pale. She violently shook her head, and seemed a bit surprised that Bernadette had asked. “It wasn’t him.”

Bernadette had an uncharitable thought that nobody would be surprised if she said he was the father, because he wasn’t around any more to defend himself. The horrible boy had pestered Ruth so much.

But now Bernadette thought of it, he couldn’t have been the one. He didn’t come home for the Easter holidays and Ruth had needed the herbs before he’d returned for the summer.

“Who was it?”

“I cannot tell you, and please don’t keep asking.”

“You’re right, I’ll stop. But I do have to ask some more questions about your health. When was the last time you had your courses?”

Ruth sighed heavily. “I never got them. That’s why I had to ask you about it.”

That made estimating the timing very difficult.

“May I feel your stomach, through your dress? It might give me an indication?”

Ruth stretched the fabric around her middle, exposing her distended stomach.

Not a good sign. It was her first child which generally meant they showed a bit later, though Ruth was a thin girl. She had to be at least five months along, to Bernadette’s experienced eye. One of the midwives would be able to make a more educated guess. Or perhaps Ruth would tell her exactly when, if Bernadette was able to get the girl to open up a little more.

“Would you mind unbuttoning your jacket at the top?”

Tentatively, Ruth flicked open the top two buttons, and Bernadette could clearly see her breasts had grown.

“I’m going to put a hand on your belly and have a gentle feel, is that all right?” She really needed a midwife here, like Mrs Bell, they knew so much more about the stages. Gently, she felt the shape of Ruth’s belly, before stepping back with a sigh.

“Ruth, I’m not going to lie, I think you’ve already quickened.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Ruth complained.

The poor girl knew so little of what was happening. “You’re starting to show, and there might even be some movement. The herbs only work if you take them early enough, and even then there’s no guarantee.”

Ruth slumped to the floor and wept. “What am I going to do?”

Bernadette crouched down to try and comfort her, heart aching for the poor girl. “I’ll think of something. You can stay here if you need to. We’re off to church soon.”

“But it’s Monday?”

“Yes, and Louise is getting married.”

“Oh! I forgot. I wasn’t at church so I didn’t hear the banns or the announcement.”

“It’s fine, but I do have to get back upstairs. You are welcome to stay here, and once we get back, we can work out what to do next.”

“OK,” she sniffled and nodded. “I can look after Crafty and the kittens while you’re out.”

“Kittens are the best medicine,” Bernadette agreed, before heading upstairs and getting ready herself.

Bernadette couldn’t stop thinking about Ruth’s situation all through Louise’s wedding, and the charming wedding party at Ferndale Hall afterwards. She danced twice with Dr Williams, enjoying herself because he was such a good dancer and being so friendly to her now, but her mind was far away. During their second dance Dr Williams must have noticed, because he led her off the dance floor and to a seat in an alcove. Fetching her a glass of lemonade, he handed it to her and stood looking at her thoughtfully.

“Will you tell me what is wrong, Miss Baxter?”

She took a sip and blinked at him. “Why, nothing,” she said, trying to sound light and merry. “What could possibly be wrong? My sister is so happy, and I am truly overjoyed for her.”

“That is obvious, but it is also clear to me that something is troubling you. Are we not friends? I should like to help you, if I can.”

He was quite adorable, looking down at her with a little furrow between his brows. Bernadette sipped her lemonade again and looked around, checking that nobody was close enough to overhear them. “I will tell you, but it is important that you tell nobody else until I have more information, do you understand? It isn’t my secret to share, but… I don’t think I can give the help that’s needed on my own.”

“I understand,” he said gravely, sitting down beside her and focusing his attention. “I will have to hear you out before I can promise my silence, however. If there is a possibility of someone being harmed, further action may be necessary.”

“You’ll at least agree to talk to me before you tell anyone else?” she pleaded.

“That I can do. I trust your judgment.”

Her brows flew up in surprise at that, and he chuckled.

“We have come a long way, haven’t we?” he said, echoing what she was thinking, and Bernadette had to smile.

“We certainly have. I trust your judgment too,” she said, realising even as she said it that she’d trusted him almost from their first meeting. Definitely since he’d run out into the street and saved Ned Fellowes’ life with a surgery Bernadette had barely even comprehended was possible. She hadn’t always liked him as she did now, but she had certainly respected his skills.

I started liking him when he started respecting my skills , she realised. And now… well this was no time to get into an examination of the more complicated feelings she was beginning to have for Doctor Glynn Williams. Ruth needed help, and soon, before it became impossible to hide the truth. Bernadette leaned in close, to speak very quietly into his ear.

“It’s Ruth Millings,” she said softly.

“The old vicar’s daughter, who helps in your shop?” Glynn’s brows furrowed, but he kept his voice down. “Is she unwell? She is a fragile-looking little thing.”

“She’s with child.” Bernadette barely breathed it.

Glynn jerked back a little, shock spreading across his face. “She’s a child herself!” he hissed.

“She’s fourteen, but I agree with you.”

“Who’s the father?” Fury was beginning to enter into Glynn’s expression.

“She won’t say. By my estimate she’s perhaps five months along, or a little more. I need to get Mrs Bell to look at her.”

Glynn swore under his breath, shaking his head. “She needs to tell you who the father is, Bernadette.”

She felt the strangest little glow inside as he used her first name. “And what if she doesn’t want to marry him? What if he forced her?”

Glynn’s mouth tightened. “What about the baby?” he fired back at her. “And what happens to Ruth afterwards?”

“Those questions are why I need help,” Bernadette said quietly.

The anger seemed to go out of him, and he nodded. Something else seemed to occur to him then, his eyes widening briefly. “We need to know who the father of the baby is, Bernadette.” He said it very quietly, but deadly serious. “Not just to see if he’s a possible marriage candidate. But because someone murdered Reverend Millings… and Ruth’s lover would definitely have had motive.”

Bernadette’s mouth fell open. She stared at Glynn, wide-eyed.

“Get Ruth to tell you who the father is,” Glynn said at last, after they’d sat in mutual troubled silence for a few minutes. “I need to talk to Shaun Jackson, I think. As the new magistrate he’s responsible for investigating the reverend’s death.”

“Perhaps we could talk to him and Louise together?” Bernadette suggested, thinking that she’d be glad to have Louise’s sensible counsel too. “Only, not today…”

“Not today.” Glynn gave her a half-smile of agreement. “Not on their wedding day. This terrible development can wait a day or two. And… I think we perhaps shouldn’t reveal Ruth’s pregnancy until you’ve found out who the father is. I’ll just persuade Mr Jackson that we need to do some more investigation.”

“Good idea,” Bernadette nodded in agreement.

“And what are the pair of you up to?” a teasing voice interrupted them. “Look at you, hiding away here with your heads together! Anyone would think the pair of you were courting!”

It was Miss Yates; Bernadette jumped to her feet, her face flushing red. “Indeed not, we were just discussing, ah, a patient, and wanted to preserve their privacy. No need to gossip.” She gave Miss Yates a stern look, but the old lady just chuckled.

“Gossip is the lifeblood of Hatfield, dear girl. I doubt I’d understand your medical talk anyway. Now Mrs Poole is looking for you; time you headed home. Are you riding with them, Dr Williams?”

“I am indeed.” Glynn made a gallant bow to Miss Yates. “Thank you for hosting such a wonderful wedding party, Miss Yates. You have done Mr and Mrs Jackson proud.”

Miss Yates beamed happily, but the old lady wasn’t done teasing yet. “As I shall for Miss Bernadette when her turn comes, Dr Williams.”

Bernadette swallowed a retort, the fire in her cheeks burning even hotter. Dr Williams looked a little flushed too, she noted, as they made their escape and went to find Mrs Poole.

Did he think about her that way? She knew quite a number of unmarried young women in Hatfield had suddenly developed ailments that absolutely required the attention of a doctor, once they saw that Dr Williams was young and handsome. Glynn had professionally examined them and sent them to Bernadette with private notes that recommended particularly revolting, though healthful, tonics. He’d shown no interest in any of the young ladies keen to throw themselves at him. No inclination to spend time with any of them.

Except her, and she felt warm all over at the thought, even while she wondered if he was just maintaining a professional friendship with her because of their mutual patients.