Page 16 of Bernadette’s Dashing Doctor (The Bookshop Belles #4)

CHAPTER 16

Planning

M r Charles arrived a minute or two before Bernadette that evening, for which Glynn was grateful. He didn’t want to be alone with Bernadette; if she’d arrived first, he might lose his mind and kiss her again. Their kiss was all he’d been able to think about since that morning, though he hated himself for it.

He had no business encouraging it, let alone enjoying it so thoroughly.

When she did arrive, she looked at him with those beautiful hazel eyes full of hurt and confusion and he couldn’t even make himself meet her gaze, utterly drowning in guilt.

“What is it you needed to talk to me about?” Mr Charles said, and Glynn turned to him gratefully. What his heart wanted didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. “Mr Charles…” he hesitated. “If I may be frank?”

“Please, do.” Mr Charles smiled encouragingly. “I promise, I will not be offended by anything you might say, and for the two of you to come to me, it’s obviously a serious matter. Best not to beat around the bush.”

“Very well.” He cast a sidelong look at Bernadette, but she was sitting silently looking at her hands, obviously content to let him take the lead for now. “You never met your predecessor, Reverend Millings. I did not know him well, as I am a recent arrival to Hatfield. But frankly, he was one of the most unChristian men I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. That he was a clergyman made him even worse, for he was most unsuited to the task.”

Mr Charles grimaced. “You are not the first person to make that observation to me, Doctor. I suspect I will be long years undoing the damage Reverend Millings did to many souls here in Hatfield.”

Encouraged that they understood each other, Glynn nodded. “There is one soul he caused more damage to than any, and that is the one Miss Baxter and I are eager to seek your counsel regarding. The reverend’s daughter, Miss Ruth Millings.”

Mr Charles blinked, and then looked sorrowful. “That poor wee lass? She seems like a scared little mouse. I’ve barely had the opportunity to speak to her.”

“Her father abused her cruelly,” Glynn said. “And when I say abused…” He paused, trying to think of a way to phrase it tactfully. It was so unspeakable.

Mr Charles’ expression grew more horrified. “You are not implying…”

“She’s pregnant,” Bernadette said bluntly.

“Her own father!” Mr Charles looked aghast, covering his mouth. “No. Oh, no.” He closed his eyes and put his hands together for a moment, obviously praying for guidance. When he opened his eyes, his expression was resolute. “What can I do to help?”

“Ruth needs to leave Hatfield, as soon as possible. She is supported by her mother,” Bernadette said. “I wrote to my sister Lady Renwick…”

“An excellent choice!” Mr Charles nodded at once. “Lord and Lady Renwick are generous souls who would discreetly assist Miss Millings, and Alston is a long way from Hatfield gossip.”

Bernadette had to interrupt his praise. “They are already on their way here at the present time, and our letters will have crossed in transit. Ruth needs to leave now. Before the signs are unmistakable.”

“Oh, I see.” Mr Charles tapped a finger on his lips with one hand, while the other strayed behind his back, as if he was about to begin pacing the room. He remained seated and nodded his head. “You are aware, of course, that I am from Alston also? My parents have a large farm, and my brother is lately married to a young Scotswoman. They have plenty of room and would happily take in the Millings women… in fact, if Ruth does not want to keep the child, I’m sure Morag would love to have a wee bairn of her own to raise. I shall write ahead, but I think we can safely send Ruth and Mrs Millings north at the earliest opportunity, without waiting for Lord and Lady Renwick. I assure you they will be safe with my family until Lord Renwick is able to make a more permanent place for them.”

“That is very good of you!” Bernadette’s face was alight with happiness as she and the young vicar worked out the logistics of their plan, and Glynn couldn’t stop looking at her.

It was agony being so close, yet so far out of reach.

He should never have touched her, as much as his heart ached to hold her close.

Come to think of it, he shouldn’t have given her the medicine cabinet. What kind of hopeless fool bought something so personal for an unmarried woman?

If he wanted the answer to that, he need only look in the mirror.

As Bernadette - for his sanity he really should think of her as Miss Baxter - and Mr Charles spoke of the logistics involved in removing Miss Millings and her mother from town, Glynn further chastised himself for his juvenile behaviour. It had taken that kiss earlier today for reality to come crashing down upon his shoulders. He’d crossed the line, that much was obvious. His only option was to beat a hasty retreat back to his side of it.

And stay there.

He brought his thoughts back to the issue at hand, as Mr Charles told them he would write a letter immediately and send it that very day so that his mother could prepare for guests. “Shouldn’t take but a moment. It will arrive before they do. All will be well.”

“I will visit Ruth and her mother and help them pack,” Bernadette said, “and ensure they have adequate funds for the journey. They can tell friends that they are going to live with relatives.”

“Which is true!” Mr Charles said. “As long as we don’t specify precisely whose relatives.”

He and Bernadette both laughed merrily, and it twisted Glynn’s gut. This was the kind of man Ber- Miss Baxter should marry. A gentleman to the core, closer to her own age, kind and charming… Mr Charles was everything Glynn knew he could never be.

“Goodness,” Mr Charles said, “I feel guilty that this will resolve my accommodation issues as well. The Red Lion is a comfortable inn, but it will be a boon to have a residence of one’s own. I look forward to claiming my kitten!”

Glynn too would soon have a residence of his own. It would do him good to not be so close to Miss Baxter every day.

To not be so tempted by her kind nature, clever mind and helpful ways. That had to be the cause of his heart pain. Simple proximity.

They saw each other every day, that’s why he’d leaned into familiarity with her. A woman whose sister was a countess! It was sheer madness that he’d even allowed himself to think of her romantically.

They bid Mr Charles farewell. Glynn fully expected Bernadette to walk to the vicarage and deliver the news, but instead she closed the door.

And stayed on his side of it, much to his discomfort.

“Why did you kiss me this morning?” she asked.

He wasn’t expecting such a blunt question. “Er,” his brain seized up as he looked at her soft, pink lips. Bad idea! “I think you kissed me.”

“And? You kissed me back. You returned the gesture.”

Did she have to run her tongue over her bottom lip at that moment?

True, he’d enjoyed it. He’d more than enjoyed it. He’d revelled in it. Guilt plagued him because he’d not stopped her or stepped back. He’d joined in gleefully and encouraged more. Goodness knows where it would have ended had Brutus not interrupted them!

“I thought you liked me?” Bernadette said, her expression full of hurt, those beautiful hazel eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I thought this was a… a natural progression of events. The cabinet was so personal and thoughtful, and you said you’d bought it with your own funds, not charged it to Lord Ferndale. I could only interpret it as a courting gift. Tell me how I misread the situation so badly?”

That was the trouble. She had not. She’d read the situation completely correctly, except that he was the one in the wrong. He’d been in the wrong from the beginning.

As the granddaughter of his employer, it was wrong. Yes, it was an honorary connection, but still, she had that close connection and he should not have encouraged her.

One sister would one day be a baroness, and another was already a countess. That elevated Bernadette into the clouds, and far, far out of his reach no matter how much he desired her.

If only she were merely in trade, they could be together.

The words, “It’s the trade,” slipped out.

“What?” She jumped in before he could get his thoughts to line up in the right order. “You don’t like that I’m in trade?”

“No, wait, I didn’t mean that.” Sensible words fled from his mind. He tried to catch them but they tumbled like autumn leaves and slipped away.

“But you said it,” Bernadette accused when he didn’t give her an adequate reply. “Have you not noticed, you’re in trade yourself? As a doctor, you’re barely a gentleman.”

His voice leapt out of him. “I know that!”

She recoiled.

His heart cracked. “I didn’t mean to snap, I didn’t mean it like that...”

“That’s the problem with you. How am I supposed to know what you mean when you don’t even know what you mean yourself?”

She was behaving like a jilted lover. Surely it hadn’t gone that far. Had it? It didn’t matter about his own heart, but he did need to protect hers before she developed any more feelings for him. Which was such a strange thought; that a woman like Bernadette Baxter would give her heart to a man from a Welsh fishing village.

“You are young,” he began, hating how pompous he sounded, but he had to carry on, had to somehow persuade her that she was wrong. “In time you will realise you’ve mistaken friendship for more. In a few months there will be someone else far more suitable.”

She stood there, mouth open in shock.

His stomach clenched at how he’d hurt her, but how else was he to create a respectable distance between them?

“A few months? Do you really expect my affections to be so fleeting?” she gasped out finally.

Her eyes filled with tears, but they didn’t spill over. It shredded his heart to see her like this. That he’d caused this.

Glynn didn’t say anything, terrified that whatever might come out of his mouth would be wrong. Would reveal how desperately he loved her. She must never know.

“So be it,” she said when he did not speak, turning and leaving.

He let her have the last word. His own throat was too constricted to speak.

An annoyed sigh erupted from him as she closed the door behind her. He staggered up to his room and collapsed on his bed with a groan. Then he got up and closed the curtains so he wouldn’t be tempted to look out across the street at Baxter’s Bookshop, and properly collapsed this time.