Page 8 of Grace in Glasgow (Seduced in Scotland #3)

G race’s entire body ached the next morning as she woke.

Stretching, she felt the low humming of Penguin’s purring vibrating against her back.

The pulls and twinges in her leg muscles, sore from having been on her feet all day.

It was odd that she felt so tired, considering how much she used to walk in Glencoe and the surrounding area near Lismore Hall, but different activities made for different muscle groups and apparently standing without much movement otherwise disagreed with her.

Yesterday’s visit to Gallowgate had certainly been eye opening, but Grace had come out of it reinvested.

Never had she been surer about wanting to be a doctor in her entire life, and while it would certainly be difficult to gain the trust of the locals, she believed she was more than capable of doing so.

Whether Dr. Hall believed that or not, however, was still up for debate.

As Grace got up and dressed herself in a pale-peach morning gown, she wondered what Dr. Hall’s impression of her was after yesterday.

She hadn’t let her emotions show on her face and was rather stoic after she made the mistake of mentioning smallpox to Mrs. Monty.

But as far as assisting him, Grace thought she handled herself rather well.

She was quick to aid him when he requested it, had set a broken finger, and tended to several cuts that were on the verge of becoming infected, and she had even managed to remove a boil off an elderly gentleman’s foot, a task she had been quite proud of considering how efficient she was with a blade.

She had even expected the doctor to comment on her talent, but he barely spoke the entire ride home.

Peering absentmindedly out her window as she brushed out her hair, Grace leaned against the large sill. Penguin jumped up, demanding scratches behind the ear, which Grace readily gave him just as her bedroom door opened behind her.

“Oh, my lady, come away from there,” Mrs. Stevens said. “You mustn’t be seen half dressed for all of Glasgow to gaze at.”

Grace smirked.

“Half dressed? I’m completely dressed, except for my shoes, but those below cannot see my feet from this angle, can they?”

“Your hair is down.”

Grace twirled her fingers around the medium brown curls that framed her face and shoulders.

“So, it is. But that hardly makes one undressed.”

“It’s not done. Not in polite society, as I’m sure you know. Now come along, and sit. You’ve more hair than most English ladies I’ve managed.”

Grace pushed herself off the wall and walked to the vanity table where a small silk cover chair sat before it. Sitting promptly, she tilted her head back.

“What do you mean, I have more hair than most English ladies?”

“’Tis a known fact that English ladies have verra fine hair, in both weight and texture. But this,” she emphasized, lifting a strand of Grace’s hair so that she could see it reflecting in the mirror. “This is thick and proper. Might you be a touch Scottish or something else?”

Grace laughed.

“I don’t believe so. My father was an earl, and as English as they come. My mother too.”

Mrs. Stevens shook her head.

“Ah, well, there’s something about you. Something not entirely tame.”

“Tame? How do you mean?”

Mrs. Stevens began to section Grace’s hair into pieces, as she twisted and braided the wild hair into a style rather becoming as of late.

“Perhaps tame isn’t the best word, but I can’t think of a better one. But you are strange. This profession of yours, a woman in medicine… It is odd.”

“Yes, I know, women shouldn’t work in professions such as medicine—”

“Ack, no. Just the opposite. There was a woman in my village, before I came to Glasgow,” Mrs. Stevens said, as she pinned Grace’s hair up.

“She knew every plant and flower under the sun. She could make your insides turn or heal the worst of wounds, but she rarely ever left her little cottage in the woods.” She shook her head.

“I always thought her the cleverest of healers, but with modern medicine, there’s nary a woman in sight.

Yet that’s who’s been doing the healing forever.

” She paused and bent down, just over Grace’s shoulder to see her work in the mirror.

“But she was a bit wild too. Untamed. You remind me of her.”

Grace smiled, unsure how to receive such a compliment that might insult someone with a more refined attitude.

“She sounds like a lady I know in Glencoe. Mrs. Fletcher. Locals call her a witch.”

“Bah, country folk are always more skeptical than us refined city folk,” Mrs. Stevens said, puffing out her chest, and Grace had to bite the inside of her cheek to refrain from giggling.

“Come, breakfast is nearly ready. You too, Penguin,” she whistled at the cat. “You’re on kitchen duty this morning.”

Grace slipped on her shoes and left her room, following Mrs. Stevens as she did. When she reached the dining room, however, she was surprised to see her aunt and Arabella, hunched toward one another like a pair of school children.

They were never up this early.

“Good morning,” Grace said as she entered the room, causing the two to bounce back, each sitting straight up now that Grace was there. She paused. “Is everything all right?”

“Of course it is,” Aunt Belle said, tapping her cane on the wooden floor twice. “Come, sit next to me and tell me everything about yesterday.”

“Yes, you were up and gone before either of us were awake,” Arabella started. “And then home after supper.”

“Is this how it is to be your entire time studying with Dr. Hall?”

“I’m not sure,” Grace answered honestly as a servant plated her food, a mix of cooked eggs, smoked fish, and a scone. “But I doubt it. I’ll likely be in his office during his hours of operation. The Gallowgate visit was just a monthly visit.”

“I should hope so,” Aunt Belle said. “Either way, that is why Arabella and I have decided to be up early now, should it be the only time we get to see you during your apprenticeship days.”

“It is very kind of the doctor to visit the poor,” Arabella said, before leaning forward. “What was it like? Visiting a tenement house?”

Tenement housing had once sought to fix the issue of housing for the poor and working class, but as the industrial expansion exploded across the United Kingdom, those meager rooms had been overcrowded, leading to slums. The knowledge of tenement housing was often used to scare country folk from moving away from their farms to seek their fortunes elsewhere.

“It was not pleasant,” Grace said honestly. “But I’m sure we did some good on our visit. Dr. Hall and I, that is.”

Arabella leaned back and glanced at Aunt Belle.

“What a brave thing to do. Dr. Hall truly is one of the finest gentlemen ever to be known, I’m sure of it.”

Grace smiled, although a small, insignificant part of her didn’t quite agree. Yes, Dr. Hall was a fine doctor, and it was kind of him to volunteer his time to the less fortunate, but wasn’t it expected of doctors to behave so?

“A better man I’ve not met,” Aunt Belle said, a sound of reverence in her voice. “Don’t you think so, Grace?”

She began buttering a piece of toast, without lifting her gaze.

“I suppose.”

Silence.

“You suppose?” Arabella repeated. “Oh, but surely after working with him, you can attest to his kindness? Particularly with helping the poverty-stricken.”

Grace’s brows lifted.

“I saw no difference between Dr. Hall’s handling of the sick than Dr. Barkley’s. Efficient, compassionate, yes, but these are expected attributes of a doctor. He is no better or worse than any other in his profession.”

Grace took a bite of her toast and only noticed that neither were speaking after a moment. Her jaw stopped chewing as she lifted her gaze and saw both women staring at her.

She swallowed.

“What? What is it?”

“Nothing, dear,” Aunt Belle said, shaking her head as if to dispel the silence. “If you do not find the doctor interesting, far be it from us to try and tell you otherwise.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t find him interesting.”

“So, you do?”

“Do what?”

“Find the doctor interesting?” Arabella asked.

Grace frowned before applying a smear of jam to her half-eaten toast. These two were acting very peculiar this morning.

“I suppose.”

Although she had answered, Grace knew neither were satisfied by her answer, but she couldn’t begin to understand why not. Still, the moment passed and believing the topic of Dr. Hall behind them, Grace opened her mouth to speak when her aunt spoke.

“It’s just, it truly is a wonder that the doctor has recovered so, after what happened to him last year.”

Grace’s toast paused midair as she looked at her aunt.

“What happened to him?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing, dear. It’s not for you to worry about.”

“Oh, but, Lady Belle, you must tell us now,” Arabella said.

Aunt Belle took a deep breath and waited to exhale as both Arabella and Grace waited for her to speak.

It was one of Belle’s favorite things, to be the center of attention, but being the clever woman she was, she was always sure to make it clear that she loathed gossip, when in truth, nothing brought her more joy.

“Well, I suppose I should tell you, although I do not condone gossip,” she said, nodding at each of them.

Grace’s brow lifted in question, but a sharp glare from her aunt told her to remain quiet. Instead, Grace just smirked.

“I hope bad fortune hasn’t befallen the doctor,” Arabella said.

“Well, whether it was good or bad, is still to be determined. But it was rather devastating.”

“What was?”

“The throw over.”

Arabella’s eyes went wide.

“Did someone throw over Dr. Hall?” she asked. “But how could someone do that? He is so clever and kind and handsome.”

“Yes, I regret to say that Dr. Hall was once engaged.”

“I—pardon me,” Grace said, fixating on Arabella. “You think the doctor is handsome?”

Arabella’s cheeks turned pink.