Page 22 of Bernadette’s Dashing Doctor (The Bookshop Belles #4)
CHAPTER 22
Home to Hatfield
C éline Fenouillart, now Céline Baxter, was a slender woman of around forty years of age with silken black hair and laughing blue eyes. She embraced all of Matthew’s daughters as though they were her own long-lost children, and they could not help but warm to her at once. Her two sons, Philippe and Pierre, were sturdy handsome lads with surprisingly good English, or perhaps not so surprising since they had been travelling with Matthew for the best part of six months. He would have worked hard on improving their English to ready them for their new lives in England. Philippe was sixteen and Pierre thirteen, and they had already taken Brutus and Renwick’s two sons under their wing. The bookshop was full of boys and kittens, an uproar Bernadette found rather delightful, though she noticed Marie putting on ear mufflers and beating a hasty retreat.
“I feel as though I know you all already, after so many years of letters,” Céline said, embracing Bernadette, “but I am so glad to have the chance to know you properly at last! I want to learn everything about running the bookshop, your father has told me all about it, and it is high time you all had some time to relax. You have worked so hard!”
They had. They really had, and as Bernadette looked around the bookshop, it all came crashing down on her; the last year of work and worry, of her sisters one by one falling in love and marrying and leaving her behind. Her face crumpled and her breath began to come quickly, and suddenly strong arms went around her.
“Bernadette,” Glynn said softly, and she turned into his arms, buried her face against his shoulder, and burst into tears.
“She’s a little overwrought,” she vaguely heard him say over her head, and then he was leading her outside and across the street to Mrs Bell’s, to the consulting room where they had spent so many hours talking.
Glynn didn’t say anything. He just sat down on the couch, pulled Bernadette into his lap and let her cry it out.
“Need a tonic?” he whispered into her hair when her sobs finally subsided to shuddering breaths.
She hiccupped a half-laugh and shook her head. “I’ll be all right.”
“Of course you will. You’re one of the brilliant, beautiful Baxter women. But I just wanted you to know,” he nuzzled at her ear, making her catch her breath, “that if you ever do need to fall apart for a little while, I’ll be here to catch you.”
“Wow,” she murmured. “You’re getting the hang of this wooing thing quite nicely, Doctor Williams.”
He kissed her most satisfactorily, and half an hour later Bernadette returned to the bookshop with a smile on her face feeling a great deal more composed. Céline took in her kiss-swollen lips and mussed hair with an amused smile but said nothing, just tucked her arm through Bernadette’s and said; “I have something you particularly would like, I think. Did you know that your mother came from a long line of keen herbalists?”
“Mama did always say that,” Bernadette agreed.
“She left for England before our mutual grandmother passed away, otherwise I am sure the family treasure would have been left to her, but as it happened, it came to me instead. Now, I think you should have it.”
“The family treasure?” Bernadette said, wide-eyed. “But… that came from your husband, didn’t it?”
Céline’s first husband had been very wealthy, though not titled, and left her extremely well provided for at his death ten years ago. The property had all been seized, unfortunately, but Céline was nothing if not resourceful. She had converted every asset she could manage into jewellery and smuggled quite a fortune out of France sewn into the hems of her gowns.
“Oh, not the jewels.” Céline waved a graceful hand. “That’s just money, though I am sure there are a few little pieces you would like, I will gift them to you for your trousseau. No, this is a treasure come down from the women in our family.” She was leading Bernadette up the stairs as she spoke, away from the crowded bookshop; it seemed half of Hatfield wanted to come in to welcome Matthew home, even though it was Saturday and the shop wasn’t officially open.
Céline fetched a small leather satchel, set it on the kitchen table and opened it, taking out a package wrapped in linen and oilcloth. She opened it almost reverently and took out a book, before placing it into Bernadette’s hands.
Wondering what the book could be, Bernadette opened the plain leather cover, frowning when she found not a printed frontispiece, but a prettily done drawing of some lavender stalks. “What…” she began, turning a page, and finding the next page full of delicate handwriting, in French. “Oh. Wait!” Translating the first few lines in her head, she turned wide eyes on Céline. “This is a herbal!”
“My grandmother’s. Your great-grandmother’s.” Céline shrugged. “I have a little interest, but not nearly so much as you. You are the rightful heiress to it, I believe.”
“Oh, I think I am going to cry again,” Bernadette said, and Céline laughed and embraced her.
“We will all have some tears, I think, before we settle into happy lives together, but your troubles are over, Bernadette. I promise.”
They dined in the assembly room at The Red Lion, as there was nowhere else to immediately accommodate the expanded Baxter family. Lord Ferndale and Miss Yates joined them, as did Riot Jones and Rosie and Mrs Poole. Mrs Bell also came over and made a firm friend in the new Mrs Baxter. Every twenty minutes or so, Lord Ferndale rang a small bell and declared everyone should swap seats so that others could have a turn to sit and talk with Matthew.
The five boys had their own table, and they made enough noise for treble their number. There were gasps as Philippe and Pierre regaled the English boys with their adventures and their own terrors. Bernadette’s heart soared as she saw Brutus’s delighted face. The isolated lad who had been so put upon by his own family and older brother, was now surrounded with the warmth of new friends and family. George and Richard were enthralled with how daring Pierre and Philippe’s lives were, and clung on to every word. Later, they called out to their father, “Pa, can we stay in Hatfield instead of going back to school?”
“Nice try,” Lord Renwick said with a laugh. “But perhaps we can look into Brutus, and Philippe and Pierre, joining you at Eton in the New Year?”
That brought loud huzzahs from all the boys. The sight of their collective grins, laughing faces - and by turns worried expressions (as Pierre told a particularly frightful tale) warmed Bernadette to her soul.
Word spread around town like a hot summer wind, and soon there were even more townsfolk pouring in to the Red Lion to see Matthew Baxter with their own eyes.
Bernadette’s father was once again the centre of her world.
Well, perhaps slightly off centre, as she caught Glynn’s grin from across the table. The past year had been so difficult, but she knew now, as she savoured the potato and leek soup - which Céline declared superb - that no matter what else happened in the future, she would get through it with her family.
Slowly, life settled into a steady routine. Marie and Renwick stayed another week after Renwick took his sons to Eton, before departing for their Cumbria home with a carriage stuffed full of enough books to keep even the Earl of Demanding happy, as the girls had laughed together. Lord Ferndale bought a massive pile of books too, and happily told Felix that he intended to spend all winter reading them and Felix would have to manage the Ferndale estates in the meantime. Felix protested, but not too much; he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying his new role, especially with a town council that voted with him far more often than not.
Louise and Shaun Jackson settled into their house, and though they invited Brutus to come and live with them, Brutus decided he would rather live at the bookshop. Matthew was delighted that the entail would eventually make Brutus his heir; as he and Céline did not expect to have any more children, Matthew planned to finish raising Brutus as his own son. Céline had sold some of her jewels for quite a sizeable fortune, certainly enough to set Philippe and Pierre up in whatever professions they desired to pursue in the future, and the three boys were already close and affectionate. Brutus finally had the brothers he deserved, and he could not have been happier.
They would need a tutor to get them ready for attending Eton after Christmas, Matthew determined, and set about the search. Mr Charles was qualified, but he had a very busy parish to minister to now that Lord Ferndale had awarded him the living permanently. Instead, Mr Charles recommended a former classmate of his from Cambridge and a man by the name of Mr Eldar soon arrived in response to Matthew’s letter inviting him to Hatfield.
Mrs Bell was delighted to have a tenant again in her spare room, which suited all, and her front room changed from being a consulting room to a classroom.
Glynn’s cottage was finished, and he moved in happily with the kitten he’d named Byron, and another cousin of Rosie’s who came in daily to clean and cook his meals. He set up a consulting room there for the moment, though he told Bernadette she would have the room for her herbs once the hospital was completed.
Glynn made a great effort to court Bernadette without putting any pressure on her, and they soon fell comfortably back into the excellent working relationship they had begun to develop before he’d momentarily turned into an idiot. Bernadette was the one who ended up moving in with Louise and Shaun, as the apartment over the bookshop was really quite crowded these days, as well as noisy with three young boys living there!
Bernadette was not the only one who moved out of the bookshop; saying that her job was now done now that there was a new Mrs Baxter, Mrs Poole finally accepted the admiration of Mr Thomas, the ostler from the Red Lion, and married him a month after Matthew’s return home.
It was a few days after that when Bernadette received a letter from Cumbria that was not from her sister Marie. Recognising the spidery handwriting, she decided to take the letter to Glynn’s cottage so they could read it together, and made her way there after breakfasting with Louise and Shaun.
“Good morning, my love.” Glynn opened the door to her with a cheerful smile before she could even knock. “No herb basket today?”
“Only this.” She brandished the envelope. “It’s from Ruth.”
She and Glynn had sat down with Shaun Jackson after their return from London and confessed that they had discovered Reverend Millings’ killer… and then they’d let her go free. Shaun had listened carefully, his big fists clenching with fury when Glynn explained what the vicar had been doing to his daughter, and finally nodded.
“Justice was served,” Shaun said with quiet approval, and Bernadette breathed a sigh of relief. The investigation was closed, and she was pretty sure nobody in Hatfield regretted Reverend Millings being replaced with Mr Charles, anyway. Church on Sundays was much more enjoyable listening to sermons about loving thy neighbour and welcoming strangers as brothers.
“Did you read it yet?” Glynn asked, and Bernadette shook her head. They headed into the kitchen together, with a brief pause as Bernadette almost stepped in some mouse entrails and Glynn reproached Byron for leaving a mess and found some rags to clean up.
They sat down at the table and Bernadette broke the seal on the letter, laying it flat on the table so they could both read together.
“ Dear Bernadette ,” Ruth had written. “ I am writing to let you know that everything is quite all right for Mother and I. The Charles family are very kind, even though I cannot understand much of what Mrs Morag Charles says, but she hugs me a great deal. I have decided I don’t want to keep the baby when it comes and Morag is going to raise it as her own. It is cold here now and nobody travels much, so hardly anyone even knows we are here. It is for the best really. Marie - or Lady Renwick as I must call her now - came to see me, and after the baby comes and we are ready to leave, Mother and I are going to move to Alston Castle. Mother is going to be the assistant housekeeper and I will be Lady Renwick’s companion, which will be lovely. Lady Renwick says they have ever so many books in their library and I can read whatever I like! ”
“That poor child,” Glynn murmured, echoing Bernadette’s sentiments. Ruth really was still only a child, but Marie would take good care of her, even finishing her education in the guise of providing reading matter from Renwick’s library. And Mrs Millings could find purpose without fear as assistant housekeeper at Alston, reserving her small jointure for a more comfortable retirement in the future.
“The best thing for her, to give up the child,” Bernadette murmured, skimming the rest of the letter. “She has a better chance at marriage in the future, without a child with such a dark history clinging to her skirts.”
“Do you think she’ll ever marry, after what her father did to her?” Glynn asked curiously.
“Perhaps. She’s very young… and people are resilient. I wish she had told me the truth before she got pregnant, but at least she has a chance at some sort of future, and so does Mrs Millings.”
“We did good.” He nudged her shoulder lightly with his, and she smiled.
“We make a good team, you and I.”
“Indeed we do!” He leaned in for a kiss, but they were interrupted by a knock on the door, and Glynn sighed. “The first patient of the day, I’m afraid. Will you stay and consult with me? I would value your opinion in this case; a child with a mysterious illness.”
“I should be delighted!” She stole a quick kiss anyway, and scooped up Byron the too-big-to-be-a-kitten-anymore as he darted past her feet. “And what are you up to, you little monster?” She bestowed kisses on the cat’s head. All Byron’s littermates had found good homes too; Louise and Shaun had taken his sister Evelina, Cecilia had gone to Ferndale Hall with Estelle and Felix, Waverly to the vicarage with Mr Charles, and Smollett with Mrs Poole when she married Mr Thomas. The mice of Hatfield would be terrorised by Crafty’s offspring for many years to come.
Byron was of use in Glynn’s practice as well, providing an excellent distraction to the little boy who had been brought by his mother for a consultation. After a great many questions, Glynn and Bernadette eventually diagnosed a diet lacking in fresh fruits and vegetables, and Bernadette promised to drop off a tonic of rosehip syrup to boost the child’s health, as well as recruit some of the ladies of Hatfield to supply fresh produce from their gardens and help the fretful young mother learn the best ways to prepare them.
“It does feel good to help,” Bernadette said after seeing their fourth patient for the morning.
“It truly does,” Glynn said, as he delivered a smile her way. Not content with merely smiling, he stepped closer to deliver an embrace.
Byron pounced on his boot and attacked his laces. He kept walking to Bernadette, cat riding on one foot as he adjusted his gait to close the distance.
They giggled and laughed together, then stole another delightful kiss before Glynn carefully stepped back. Slowly, he lifted his foot, bringing the cat higher. “Now look here, your job is to keep the rodents away, not trip me up. Oh, I nearly forgot, how many printed record sheets do I have remaining?”
Not hindered by a maniacal feline, Bernadette opened the drawer and quickly counted. “There might only be about twenty pages here?”
“In which case, I should put another order in with Mr Black.”
“I can do that if you like? There’s a magnificent rose bush along the way, I’ll see if it has any ripe rosehips.”
She turned around to see Glynn had already anticipated her need to gather ingredients, for he had a harvesting basket already in his hand.
She loved this about Glynn. He anticipated what she needed almost before she did sometimes. He made her so happy, her face ached from smiling. He’d proven his willingness to woo, she’d be more than happy for him to ask her to marry him, whenever he felt like it.
The sooner the better, really.
“I’ll be back in a little while,” she said, taking the basket from him and a blank patient record.
When she opened the door, she gasped.
There was her brother-in-law, Felix Yates, galloping down the street towards them as if the devil was on his heels.
His hair was wind-tossed and damp from sweat, and he wasn’t even wearing a hat!
“Felix?” Bernadette called out.
He spotted her and pulled his horse up. “Hurry!” he cried out, “is Mrs Bell with you?”
Bernadette shook her head. “I’m sure she’s at home.”
Glynn stepped out through the door, Byron clinging to the bottom of his trousers. “Hullo there!”
Felix didn’t respond to the cheerful greeting, he just said, “I’ll get Mrs Bell, you two make haste to Ferndale Hall. The baby’s coming!”
Bernadette immediately agreed. She put the basket and the patient record back inside and said, “The rosehips can wait, my sister cannot!”