Page 15 of Bernadette’s Dashing Doctor (The Bookshop Belles #4)
CHAPTER 15
Predicaments
B ernadette thought sending Ruth and her mother to Marie would be the perfect option. From her sister’s letters, Alston Castle sounded vast. A girl and her mother could easily be absorbed into the staff. Perhaps in time Ruth could become a companion to Marie? And there must be some local farming families who could be paid to take in the babe if Ruth didn’t want to keep it, which Bernadette suspected she wouldn’t; the child would be a permanent reminder of what Ruth had suffered.
Dr Williams came into the bookshop soon after she opened up on Monday morning, which immediately brought a smile to her face. Mr Thomas followed straight after.
“Don’t let the cats out!” she called out.
They hastily shut the door and breathed relief that they had not let Crafty out, nor any of her rambunctious offspring.
They were both well-dressed, as it was Rosie and Riot’s wedding day today. There had been a great many weddings of late.
“Post arrived, Miss Baxter,” Mr Thomas said, handing over some sealed notes. Then he looked a little sheepish and said, “Is Mrs Poole about by any chance?”
“Of course,” Bernadette readily agreed. “She’s upstairs. Don’t keep her long, she’s busy getting Rosie ready.”
Glynn put his hat down on the counter, and he looked about his feet for the kitten he’d christened Byron. The cute little devil was already after his bootlaces; he stooped to catch it, laughing as the kitten attempted to dive inside his trouser leg and hide. “Little scamp! Don’t you rip my good clothes! I can hardly stand up next to Riot if my legs are shredded!”
One of the letters that had just arrived was written in Marie’s hand, so Bernadette opened that one first. It was lovely to hear from her, but the contents made her sigh with frustration.
“I don’t mean to pry, but, is anything the matter?” Glynn asked, watching her expression.
“Bother,” she said, scanning the details. “Double bother.”
“Bad news?”
“Not exactly, but it’s rather a complication.” Her mind started spinning with ways around this, but no solutions presented themselves. “It’s from my sister, and she sent this on ahead, express. I will be delighted to see her, but she’s already on her way to us.”
Glynn looked confused.
She kept her voice low in case Mr Thomas should re-appear. “It means we can’t send Ruth to Marie because Marie’s already half-way here.”
“Oh!” Glynn agreed, looking crestfallen. “Bother indeed.”
“Yes. And we must find somewhere soon. There’s only so long before people start to talk. Mr Charles has been so patient, but he should be moving into the vicarage.”
“Mrs Bell has a room for him now that Shaun has moved to his new house,” Glynn said, then brightened. “We can sound Mr Charles out later today, after the wedding.”
“About whether he is happy to hold off moving into his residence? Would he wonder why we were asking such a thing?”
Glynn looked thoughtful and nearly said something, but Mr Thomas came down the stairs. He doffed his hat and said, “See you soon, at church.”
They bid him goodbye and Bernadette walked out from the counter and turned the door sign to “closed”.
“You were going to suggest something?” Bernadette asked.
“I was wondering whether we sound out Mr Charles to see if he might know anybody to take in Ruth and Mrs Millings?”
“That’s brilliant!” She beamed at him. “And I know he won’t talk, he’s terribly discreet. Haven’t heard anything at all from Rosie or Mrs Poole about him, only that some of the younger ladies are wanting their hair done for Sunday mornings!”
Dr Williams really was such a thoughtful man to suggest they speak to Mr Charles. And so kind. He’d taken to the people of Hatfield with such care and consideration. Not just for their medical ailments, but their overall wellbeing. Nothing at all like her first impressions, of a man who ranked his education higher than people’s experiences.
She had badly misjudged him.
Watching him play with Byron was delightful. His whole face came alive and his voice rose into a childish tone as he talked to the playful kitten. “You’re going to love your new home. The cottage is almost ready!”
For a little while, it was so much fun just to watch him being incredibly silly and gentle with the baby animal.
After a few minutes he seemed to remember he had an audience. He looked at her, startled.
They both laughed their nervousness away.
“I wanted to thank you again for the gift of the cabinet,” she started. A kitten leapt on her foot - the one set aside to accompany Mr Charles into the vicarage - and she picked her up. The little thing was all purrs and softness; then the little fluffball kicked her feeble legs into Bernadette’s palm slaying an imaginary dragon. Her fight was all play for now, but as the kitten grew into cathood, rodents wouldn’t stand a chance.
“I’m glad you’re happy with it,” he said, as Byron leapt in and out of his hat on the counter. “Have you filled it already?”
“Not yet,” she placed her kitten safely on the floor so it didn’t accidentally fall off the counter. Then she moved to do the same for Bryon but he dashed away from her, scarpering up Glynn’s arm and stopping at his shoulder.
“Ease up!” Glynn laughed.
Bernadette laughed too and she reached for the kitten the same time as he moved his hand to grab him. Their hands somehow both had the kitten, sending warmth through her whole being. Together they moved the kitten down to the floor before letting him go.
Glynn removed his hand and the warmth vanished,
“The cabinet was a beautiful gift,” she said as they both straightened and then leaned on the counter. So personal. A courting gift? If so, it was perfect.
Glynn gulped but said nothing.
Gently, she reached for his hand. The shop was closed, Rosie and Mrs Poole were still getting ready; nobody would interrupt them.
His hand firmly in hers, she took her chance. Stepping in closer, she tilted her head up. Her eyelids lowered a little, and her lips moved closer to his. It felt so natural, so right.
Momentum closed the distance as their lips met with a gentle, natural touch. Her heart thrummed in her chest. Light danced along her skin. Her hand came to rest on the lapel of his coat, and she drew him closer.
The kiss gained imperceptible pressure, then her lips parted on a soft sigh. This was everything she had hoped it would be.
Then it was more. A soft groan escaped from his throat and he reached for her waist, pulling her closer in.
The beautiful moment transformed into bliss as she revelled in the sensations.
“Oh yuk! Not you two as well?”
She broke away from Glynn and turned to see Brutus standing on the stairs. He was completely disgusted with them, his young face screwed up with distaste.
She must be blushing furiously, but Bernadette didn’t care. “Dear Brutus, you’ll change your mind when you’re older.”
“I will not!” he insisted, turning around and heading back up the stairs.
A nervous laugh escaped, and as she turned back to Glynn, in the hope of picking up where they had left off, she read only deep dread in his expression.
Why did he look despondent? It didn’t make sense, their kiss was lovely!
To her continued confusion, Glynn backed away and would not look her in the face.
“I should not have…” he began but failed to complete. “That was not…” another thought remained unfinished. He kept backing away.
“I thought you enjoyed that as much as I?”
He’d responded so positively, but now he was running away. Nothing made sense. Moments ago she was losing herself to the sensation of a kiss and now she appeared to be losing him entirely as he made haste for the door and let himself out.
Confused and speechless, Bernadette moved to the other side of the counter and found the seat. Here she sat, head in her hands, wondering what had just happened and how it had ended so poorly.
All the gossip she’d heard from Rosie, and a fair few of her customers, especially those who needed her after a seasonal assembly, had talked about how wonderful kisses were. That men wanted kisses so much, they often couldn’t stop.
Had she found the only man in Hatfield who didn’t like kissing?
The door jingled and it was Glynn again. He still didn’t make eye contact and he marched forward, grabbed his forgotten hat off the counter and marched straight out again without so much as a word to her.
“You can’t ignore me like that for the rest of the day,” she said to the closed door. “We’ll both be at Rosie and Riot’s wedding.”
As the words left her mouth, something cold flipped in her belly. Bernadette had agreed to be Rosie’s maid of honour, and Dr Williams was Riot’s best man. It probably would have been Mr Jackson, but they didn’t want to wait for him to get back from his honeymoon.
At least it would be easy to get Mr Charles’ attention after the ceremony, as they’d have ample opportunity to bend his ear once the paperwork was signed.
She sighed unhappily. What did I do wrong? Was it because I instigated the kiss? Did he think me too forward? But after he gave me such a lovely courting gift of the cabinet, it felt so natural!
Somehow, she’d made a mistake. How she wished one of her sisters was here, to ask for advice!
Rosie and Riot’s wedding was delightful. A smaller affair than Louise’s and Shaun’s of course, but Rosie looked beautiful in a new dress, and Riot quite handsome in his best suit with a wide smile on his face as he watched his bride make her way up the aisle towards him. Because Rosie was Catholic, they were in the Catholic church, not a place Bernadette had ever frequented. The priest seemed kindly, though, and very welcoming, and most of the ceremony was familiar.
Mr Charles had attended to show support, and stood chatting with many of the congregation in the churchyard afterwards. Bernadette waited until he had finished exchanging pleasantries with the priest before sidling up, seeing from the corner of her eye Glynn coming to join them. He hadn’t looked at her even once during the ceremony, keeping his gaze focused on either the bridal couple or the priest, and Bernadette tried to push away the hurt.
“Could we talk, Mr Charles?” She indicated Glynn with a nod of her head.
Mr Charles looked from one to the other of them, his cheerful expression sobering as he took in their serious looks. “Of course, Miss Baxter. Shall we walk together?”
The Catholic church wasn’t in the centre of Hatfield; they had about a half-mile walk back to the bookshop. Bernadette nodded, accepting Mr Charles’ politely offered arm. Glynn walked along behind them in silence, and she remembered that she had once thought he might be a little jealous of Mr Charles. Peeping back at him, she caught him looking at her with his jaw clenched, though he quickly looked away when he caught her gaze.
I don’t understand him at all. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away determinedly. She needed to focus on Ruth’s urgent predicament right now, not mooning over a man giving her such mixed signals.
“What did you need to talk to me about, Miss Baxter?” Mr Charles asked. “I collect from your expression that the matter is somewhat serious, and from the presence of Dr Williams that it might be perhaps of a medical nature. I do assure you that anything you tell me will go no further - I may not be bound by the seal of the confessional like my Catholic colleague, but I know how to be discreet.”
There were too many people about; even now someone was stopping Glynn to ask him a question, and she could see another woman walking towards them purposefully, eyes fixed on Mr Charles. Bernadette didn’t dare let Ruth’s name slip from her lips at this moment. “Would it be possible to meet privately, Mr Charles, with myself and Dr Williams?”
“Of course.” Mr Charles had clearly noticed the privacy issue too. “Perhaps in Dr Williams’ consulting rooms? I have an appointment at four… but after that?”
Bernadette wanted to suggest somewhere else, but Mrs Poole and Brutus would be at the bookshop, the Red Lion would be busy with everyone celebrating the wedding, and she could not ask Mr Charles to open the church just for this. Glynn’s rooms made sense, as even if Mrs Bell was home, they could trust her to be discreet. Bernadette still planned to ask the experienced midwife to examine Ruth at some point.
“Very well,” she said reluctantly.
“I shall see you at five, then,” Mr Charles said, then raised his voice as the woman approached. “Good afternoon, Mrs Frakes! And how are you today?”
Bernadette disengaged from the young vicar and turned back to find that Glynn had just managed to escape from the man who had stopped him.
“No time to talk right now,” Bernadette said. “He’ll meet us in your consulting rooms at five o’clock.”
Glynn nodded abruptly, not meeting her gaze. “I’ll see you there. I need to go visit Mr Hawley. Excuse me.” He walked away without a backward glance, and Bernadette was left to make her way home to the bookshop alone, wondering again what she had done wrong.