Page 14 of Bernadette’s Dashing Doctor (The Bookshop Belles #4)

CHAPTER 14

Revelations

T empted as he was to invite himself to dinner at the Baxters, Glynn walked past the bookshop and onwards to the Red Lion. Mrs Bell was out tending to a mother in childbed, and although there was plenty of food in her kitchen, it would be a cold repast otherwise.

Tonight, as the cool summer air danced around his neck, his stomach required a hot meal. A wall of noise assailed his ears as he walked through the front door; the inn was certainly doing a roaring trade this evening.

“Doctor Williams!” a familiar accent sang out. Riot Jones and some of the patrol men were at a table, and Riot waved Glynn over welcomingly. He joined them, pleased to be invited into the fold.

They shifted down the bench seat to make room for him.

“Riot, what’s occurring?” Glynn asked as he joined them.

“No fires at all,” Riot said with a happy grin, and the rest of the team clinked their tankards with merry agreement.

Another of the men mentioned they’d helped a few others to get home and keep them out of fights. “Otherwise they’d be seeing you for black eyes and broken teeth.”

“That could be fun,” Glynn joked. “Don’t rob me of business.”

Riot was in charge of patrols while Shaun Jackson was on his honeymoon, but as nobody else had taken up the habit of setting fires, they were finding life in Hatfield had returned to a sedate rhythm.

“We had some dairy cows escape from a field,” Riot said. “That kept us busy, herding them back in.”

As Glynn tucked into his baked trout with mashed potatoes and green beans, he said, “I hope your skills haven’t rusted, because I am in need of you tomorrow.”

The rest of the men looked interested, but Glynn had to disappoint them. “Sorry, lads, just Riot, I’m afraid.”

They groaned and returned to their meals.

Riot asked, “What do you need?”

“Can you visit my rooms at Mrs Bell’s in the morning? Wave at the window rather than knock. She’s out delivering a baby this evening and will no doubt need her sleep tomorrow.” Glynn hoped Riot would agree to come to the vicarage with him and search again. Glynn wondered if Riot might spot something they’d previously missed. Even if he did not, he would at least be an objective party to offer fresh ideas.

Most of all he could trust the man to be prudent.

“Done,” his countryman said cheerfully. “I’m exercising the privilege of command tonight and letting the lads patrol without me.”

“Are you able to patrol, now?” Glynn asked. Riot had broken a leg at Waterloo, barely eight weeks earlier, and Shaun Jackson had been badly delayed getting home as he’d refused to leave the loyal Welshman behind. Riot had been walking on crutches lately, though, and now Glynn couldn’t see them anywhere.

“Not for long,” Riot admitted. “But I can walk short distances without my leg getting tired. Happy to come and see what you need tomorrow.”

Saturday morning dawned brightly. Despite the ‘closed’ sign on the bookshop door, it opened when Glynn tried the handle. Glynn poked his head in, careful not to let the cat or her kittens out.

To his delight, Bernadette readily agreed to his plan for the day. “Ruth came in yesterday,” Bernadette said as they walked back to his consulting room. They quietly took seats, so they didn’t disturb Mrs Bell upstairs.

Perhaps, when he became better known, and he’d studied some more books, the Hatfield mothers might allow him to attend their births and offer assistance.

A doctor could dream!

“Did she confide who the father was?” he asked Bernadette

“No,” she shook her head and appeared to be in genuine pain for her young friend. “Only that it would be impossible to marry him. I’m wondering if it was a soldier who didn’t return?”

“Would explain a lot,” he ruminated.

Bernadette sighed with confusion. “She ran off again when I pressed her.”

“Poor lass must be terrified.”

Riot arrived and waved at them through the window as agreed. They met him on the street and made quiet greetings.

“Where to now?” Riot asked.

“The apothecary, and then the four of us shall visit the vicarage and see what else we might have missed.”

They soon had Mr Lennox join them, and they walked together to the Millings residence.

Riot asked, “This is about Old Brimstone?”

Bernadette quietly snorted into her hand.

“The late Reverend Millings, yes,” Glynn gently corrected him.

Mr Lennox chuckled. “Brimstone.”

Riot sighed noisily, then added, “The new lad’s a breath of fresh air, isn’t he?”

“Definitely,” Mr Lennox agreed. “He’s far too nice for a nickname to stick at all, unless it’s something like Charming Charles!”

“Agreed,” Bernadette said. To Glynn, her sigh sounded wistful, rather than relieved.

A strange feeling took hold again, and he recognised it as jealousy. This shocked and annoyed him in equal measure. He had no right, no right at all to be jealous. He wasn’t anywhere close to Bernadette’s social status, so what business was it if she and the amiable, eligible Mr Charles might make a match of it?

None, he reminded himself sternly.

Mrs Millings gave a wary smile to Bernadette as she opened the door. The moment she noticed three men behind her, the widow made to close it again.

“We’re here for your welfare, Mrs Millings,” Glynn promised.

Reluctantly, she let them in.

Bernadette kept Mrs Millings distracted in the sitting room while he, Mr Lennox and Riot examined the kitchen and the pantry, looking for herbs or spices that might be mislabeled. Anything that might offer a clue of some kind.

After a thorough search, Mr Lennox had several samples he wanted to take back to his shop to test. Riot was keen to learn more from Mr Lennox, so he left with the apothecary, thanking Mrs Millings most kindly on their way out.

Glynn felt he should leave too. They’d disturbed Mrs Millings’ peace too many times. On the positive side of the ledger, she at least wasn’t suffering from megrims any more.

Wringing her hands together, Mrs Millings suddenly said, “I’d like you to stay, Dr Williams, Miss Baxter. My conscience can’t bear it any more.”

Frozen to the spot, Glynn readily agreed. So did Bernadette, though she gave him a wide-eyed look, obviously wondering what the widow was about to admit to them.

“Shall we move to the sitting room?” Bernadette asked.

“No, no, the kitchen is fine. I’ll get Ruth down, she needs to hear this as well.”

The minutes moved slowly as Glynn and Bernadette looked to each other, waiting for the daughter to arrive. He was sure Mrs Millings was about to confess something. It took all his concentration to remain patient and wait in silence.

Mrs Millings then fussed over making more tea and poured four cups.

A nervous-looking Ruth came downstairs. Glynn sipped his tea to make sure he couldn’t interrupt.

Mrs Millings started talking. “Ruth, darling, you need to hear this from me instead of town gossip. For a long time…”

To Glynn’s surprise, it was Ruth who interrupted with a strangled voice.

“He did horrible things to me.”

Dread filled Glynn. “Who?”

“I’m so sorry,” Mrs Millings said, embracing her daughter. “I begged him to stop.”

“He didn’t,” Ruth sobbed. “He’d come for me when you had megrims. He’d say the devil was in me and he had to cast it out.”

She’s talking about her father!

Horror flooded through Glynn as he realised what the poor girl was confessing to. Even worse, if that were possible, it made her a prime suspect in her father’s death.

All the same, he listened to the broken sobs of young Ruth. Every now and then his gaze caught Bernadette’s stricken face.

Ruth was so brave, divulging what had taken place. What stuck in Glynn’s throat was the reverend having posed as a bastion of the community, lecturing everybody else on morals and behaviour, while he was doing such depraved things to his own daughter.

It was a completely uncharitable thought, but Glynn hoped Old Brimstone was rotting in hell somewhere.

“I am so dreadfully sorry,” he said, after a long, shocked silence.

“This is not your fault,” Bernadette added. “I’m not surprised you wanted to poison him. I would have done it myself if I’d known.”

Ruth frowned and wiped her face. “I didn’t, though!”

Glynn tried to keep a softness in his voice. “Nobody would blame you for it. It never need leave these four walls.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Ruth said. “Was he poisoned? I thought maybe he just had an apoplexy. Or that God finally answered my prayers and smote him down!”

“He appeared to be poisoned,” Glynn confirmed. “But we’re not sure what h…”

“I did it,” Mrs Millings said.

The room fell to silence, all eyes turning to the widow, who sat very straight in her chair, her face calm.

“I poisoned him because he wouldn’t leave Ruth alone. I was so relieved when she was at your bookshop, Miss Baxter, because I knew she was safe with you. I’m glad he’s dead. It means she can live the rest of her life in peace.”

Glynn and Bernadette looked nervously at each other, then Bernadette looked to Ruth, giving her an encouraging little nod.

The girl gulped and said, “Mama, I can’t.”

She pulled back her dressing gown, showing the expanding belly on her tiny frame.

Tears spilled down Mrs Millings’ face as she took in the fact her daughter was already with child. “I should have killed him sooner. This is all my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Mama. It was his.”

The two embraced in mutual sorrow and support, tears flowing freely.

“I should have done more,” Mrs Millings sniffed through the tears.

“But your megrims were so severe,” Ruth said. “And what could you have done, really?”

Mrs Milling spat out, “Those stupid bloody megrims!”

Her curse surprised Glynn, but under the circumstances, he didn’t blame her.

He took another sip of tea, waiting silently as the mother and daughter began to come to terms with their deeds.

Mrs Millings turned to Glynn and said, “He was bringing on the megrims, with belladonna or such like, didn’t you say? Trying to make me sleep so I’d be out of the way. All the while I was poisoning his tea in the hope it would slow him down.”

“What did you use?” Bernadette asked, and Mrs Millings looked at her.

“Celandine, from the garden.”

Bernadette glanced at Glynn, nodding. It was one of the plants she’d pointed out to him, the one that looked a bit like a dandelion.

“I made a tea of it, but it didn’t work. He wasn’t well, he turned yellow, but he still wouldn’t leave Ruth alone. So then I used tansy. My mother always said it was very dangerous and she was right.”

Suddenly freezing mid-sip, Glynn put his tea down and looked in horror to Bernadette, who pushed her cup away.

“No! You don’t have to worry,” Mrs Millings said. “I would never harm you. Or anyone else. But, I would do it again to protect Ruth. I just wish I’d been better at it. Oh Ruth, I’m so sorry.”

There was a great deal of sniffling and tears, not just from Mrs Millings and Ruth. Bernadette dabbed at her eyes and Glynn’s throat constricted.

After some more tears, Mrs Millings turned to Glynn and said, “You may as well call Mr Jones back so he can arrest me.”

“We’ll do no such thing,” Glynn blurted. Then he realised it was true. He had no intention at all of turning her in. He didn’t for a moment believe that she was a danger to anyone else, and the reverend had received exactly what he’d deserved.

“How would that be justice?” Bernadette said. “Ruth needs you.”

“But I’ve confessed to killing my husband.”

“Patient confidentiality,” Glynn said, feeling pleased with the thought. “And he was subjecting you to debilitating megrims that altered your common sense.”

“But whatever will we do now?” Ruth appeared ready to panic as she looked at her mother.

Bernadette reassured both of them. “We can find somewhere for you to go, somewhere quiet where you can have the babe away from Hatfield gossip.”

“We simply up and leave? That will set tongues wagging,” Mrs Millings said.

“Not in the slightest.” Bernadette had more answers, deeply impressing Glynn. She’d obviously been thinking things through and creating plans, despite Ruth’s unwillingness to cooperate earlier. “You’re in deep mourning, and at some point you will need to vacate the vicarage anyway. We’ll mention you’re staying with family and that will be enough.”

He wondered if she had some plan. He wished he had relatives left in Wales; that would surely be far enough to send Ruth and her mother, but there was nobody left there that he could trust. He wracked his brain. He’d not made many close friends at medical school; they all knew he was common-born, only there because of his wealthy patron, and it had been much the same with the other surgeons he’d served with in the army.

“I do so wish I’d done more,” Bernadette said a little later, as they walked away from the vicarage.

He nodded, feeling as if he’d also let the poor girl down. “You did a great deal,” he realised. “You gave her a place to go each day where he couldn’t reach her.”

She nodded, as if thinking it over.

“And you also bore the brunt of his anger,” he added. “Perhaps keeping Ruth away from him is why he targeted you so ferociously in his sermons?”

She sighed heavily, his ideas not relieving her sadness by much.

“Do you have an idea, for where they could go?”

“Indeed I do.” She had wiped her face, but her eyes were still red-rimmed from crying. It didn’t make her any less beautiful, as the warm summer sun touched her face with a golden glow. “My sister Marie married the Earl of Renwick, who has a grand castle in Cumbria. A very, very long way away. Marie knows and loves Ruth already, of course. It’s the perfect place for Ruth and her mother to hide away until the baby is born, and I’m sure Renwick will help them resettle.”

Must be nice, Glynn thought a little wistfully, to have wealthy and influential relatives with castles at their disposal. “Better than the remote Welsh fishing village I was thinking of, where I grew up. I’ve no family left there, besides.”

“Thank you for thinking of it, but I’m sure Cumbria is the answer. I’ll write to Marie straight away.”