The Awakening 0f A Forbidden Passion (Historical Regency Romance)

by Emily Honeyfield

  He sighed. “I do not trust myself,” he whispered to her. It hurt to admit the truth to her, but she seemed pleased by the admission.

  Miss Morton’s eyes were soft and kind. She sighed up at him with a sort of soft release, the kind men probably dreamed about escaping from her lips. George cleared his throat and looked away.

  “Perhaps we should try your memory at another time. I should give you a few days to rest in between our sessions,” George said and he felt ridiculous even as he said it.

  The motion of Miss Morton’s slender shoulders brought his gaze back to her. She did not look to mind his ridiculousness. “I would not mind the company,” Miss Morton told him. “The house will be much quieter this week. My sister is going to visit friends for a few days and Lord Ridlington is away on business. Why, this week is the perfect time for us to work do you not think?”

  It seemed as if they were both going to just completely ignore what had taken place between them. George felt a twinge of disappointment, but he should have felt relief. He scolded himself for not feeling relieved. Miss Morton had the fortitude to play along as a good lady should, and he had the audacity to feel disappointed?

  “Yes,” George said with a slow nod. “I suppose it must be lonely. I had not been aware that they were gone.”

  Miss Morton leaned forward slightly as if what she was to say was a secret, “I only heard about Bridgitte’s departure at lunch today.”

  George nodded his head again, unsure of what to say. “Are you sad to see your sister gone?” He fell into his old habits; engage the patient and soon you will certainly get to the root of the trouble.

  Miss Morton frowned. “I am not sad, so to speak. I feel as if I should just give up on finding more connection with my sister.” She eyed him with curiosity in her eyes. “You said you have a brother.” When George nodded, she said, “I suppose you two are close.”

  “We have had our moments,” George said with a grin.

  Miss Morton laughed. “I wish my sister and I had our moments. It seems we have been at odds since we were children.”

  “Not all siblings are close,” George reminded her. “You do not have to like someone simply because they grew up in the same house as you.”

  Miss Morton shook her head as if to ward off something he had said. “I like her, truly. Well, I want to like her. I just—” She sighed. “I just want to be able to have a conversation with her.”

  “And I am certain you shall, given some years. Time and maturity tend to soften people towards family,” George said with a smile.

  Miss Morton ran a finger across the keys, light enough to tease a note, but not enough to actually pull it from the piano. Before they could continue their conversation, Gwen breezed back into the room with a tray of tea and sandwiches held out before her. “Sorry, it took me so long, Miss.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about, Gwen.” Miss Morton stood up and George stepped back to allow her to pass by him unmolested.

  Gwen sat the tray down much where she had the last time that George had joined Miss Morton for tea. He cleared his throat and said, “I should probably take my leave.”

  Miss Morton’s eyes washed over him. The tide within them pulled him toward her, but he fought it. She said, “Please have some tea before you go, Doctor Rowley. I should not like to think of you walking in London to visit patients without proper nourishment.”

  George wanted to assure her that he knew had to feed himself just fine, but instead he accepted her offer with an inclined head. “If you insist, Miss Morton. Those sandwiches do look tempting.”

  Gwen gave him a pleased smile and began pouring out two cups of tea for them while Miss Morton took a seat on the sofa. George took a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs for propriety’s sake. He took the cup Gwen offered him with a whispered, “Thank you.”

  The maid served her mistress and then gave them a curtsey. “I hate to rush right off, Miss, but I am due upstairs to help some of the chambermaids.”

  “Quite fine, Gwen,” Miss Morton said with a smile.

  When Gwen was gone, there was a stillness that settled in the air. George ignored the heavy silence as best he could. He served a sandwich up onto a plate for Miss Morton and then served himself one as well. George then pretended to be engrossed in his tea.

  He knew it was ill-mannered to not at least attempt to make some sort of conversation, but his mind simply could come up with nothing else to say. The kiss lingered between them, and George wondered if further acknowledging the gesture would be for the better or worse?

  Finally, he could take the silence no longer and George cleared his throat. He wanted to say a million things but instead, he said, “I have patients that I must see on the other side of London. I should probably be going.”

  Miss Morton did not try to naysay him on it. She simply inclined her head. “I shall see you on your next visit then.”

  George agreed, “Yes. I suppose I could come to see you tomorrow since you are lonely this week.” He had not intended to offer to come back so quickly. He knew he should stay away for a bit, but George simply found he did not want to.

  The smile that lit up Miss Morton’s face was rewarding enough for his boldness. He took his leave with a light heart and a spring in his step. It was not until he reached the carriage that his guilt swelled up again.

  He did not like to think that he had left Miss Morton in a compromised position. While George did not regret giving her the counsel that he had on marriage, it was likely that Lord and Lady Chaplin would not be as favorable. What was done was done though, and George did not think the opportunity to redo his decision would make a difference in how he handled it.

  Perhaps he might have restrained himself better. Giving counsel on marriage was one thing, but kissing the young lady was quite another. That might indeed end up costing him his position with the household.

  George settled himself in the carriage with a dissatisfied frown. He did not want to cause Miss Morton stress at this point in her recovery. Yet she had not seemed put off by his display of affection.

  A sigh escaped his lips. There he was thinking that she might actually harbor some sort of infatuation for him. She was his patient, and patients often grew fond of their physicians.

  “I’m a fool of a man,” George whispered to no one in particular as the carriage lurched forward toward the heart of London.

  ***

  Priscilla peered at herself in the mirror. Doctor Rowley was due any time and she eyed herself critically. “I do not know if I like my hair up like this.”

  “This will be the third time you have had me change it this morning,” Gwen said with a sigh and a shake of her head. “One would think your fiancé was coming over instead of the doctor.”

  Priscilla scoffed. “I am simply being fickle. For some reason, I just cannot settle on a style.”

  “Well, I think you look like a princess,” Gwen said, her hands firmly set on her hips.

  Priscilla laughed. “Fine. I shall keep it as it is.”

  “Good on ya, Miss,” Gwen said with a wink. “Do you think Bridgitte is having a good time at the Lovett estate?”

  With a shake of her head, Priscilla whispered, “I pray for their sanity while they endure my sister.”

  “You make her sound like some plague visited upon them.” Gwen bit her lip and Priscilla thought it was probably to ward off a laugh that might be considered rude.

  Priscilla gave her friend a smile. “Perhaps not a plague, but she certainly tests anyone’s religion.”

  “You are horrible,” Gwen told her, but Priscilla saw amusement and not judgment in Gwen’s eyes. “Are you and the doctor going to take a constitutional this morning?”

  Priscilla nodded. “I should think so. Pray that I do not break my leg today.”

  Gwen giggled and did not even bother hiding it. “Perhaps ya should simply watch where you are walking.”

  “Funny,” Priscilla replied with a mock glare.

 
The doctor’s arrival was heralded by his crisp knock at her chamber door. Gwen let the man in and bid him, “Good morning, Doctor Rowley. Your patient has been expecting you.”

  “I can see that,” Doctor Rowley said with a smile.

  Priscilla wondered if he knew how she had fussed over her appearance. There was a twinkle in those all-knowing eyes. She averted her gaze so he would not see her embarrassment.

  “Let me give you a quick examination and then we can take a walk. That is if you feel up to it this morning.” Doctor Rowley’s voice grew closer as he came over to examine her.

  She looked up into his warm eyes. “I feel as fit as ever.”

  “Good,” he said simply as he poked the ends of his stethoscope into his ears. Priscilla complied with the examination and soon enough Doctor Rowley was straightening up. “You certainly sound healthy. Is your ankle still sore?”

  She shook her head. “No. It feels normal now.”

  “Then shall I escort you on your walk?” He held out his hand to help her up and Priscilla gladly accepted.

  Gwen gave her a smile. “I suppose I need to get to my other duties. Shall you want tea in the library?”

  “That sounds lovely,” Priscilla replied with a nod.

  Gwen opened the door and let them through before she left the room herself. She gave Priscilla a little wave before she turned in the opposite direction towards the guest bedrooms. Doctor Rowley led her down the stairs and Priscilla pondered if she should talk or simply follow his lead.

  Doctor Rowley certainly did not seem eager to talk. Finally, Priscilla asked as he held the door open for her to go out onto the patio. “There’s something I wanted to ask you about, Doctor Rowley.”

  She slipped out of the door and he closed it behind them. “And what was that?” He gave her a look of curiosity as they walked side by side toward the three broad steps that led down into the garden.

  As they stepped out onto the garden path, Priscilla gathered her courage and replied, “Gwen saw you in town the other day with a young lady.”

  “Did she?” Doctor Rowley’s forehead wrinkled in an adorable way that made Priscilla want to smile at him. She refrained from doing so as he seemed to have forgotten walking through London with a young lady. Surely a man should remember such things.

  Priscilla nodded. “Yes. It was the day she had to run some errands and you left to go back to London.”

  He frowned for a moment longer then he chuckled. “Ah yes. She must have seen me with my cousin.”

  “Your cousin?” Priscilla asked the question cautiously.

  Doctor Rowley nodded and held out his arm to her as they began to walk down the garden path. “Yes. I do not see her that often, so when I saw her we walked together for a time to catch up.”

  “I see,” Priscilla said with a smile.

  Doctor Rowley looked over at her. “If one did not know better, then they might say you were jealous.”

  Priscilla gasped and scoffed, “Certainly not. I just recalled that I had meant to ask you. After all, you said you were not courting and such. I should hate to think my physician was some rogue.”

  She thought about what she had said and stammered, “I—I do not mean that in light of—oh, I simply did not mean it as such.”

  Doctor Rowley shook his head at her. “I should explain my actions.”

  “No. There is no need,” Priscilla assured him.

  He gave her a smile. “There is a need. This could very well affect your recovery and I simply will not stand for that.” Doctor Rowley sighed up at the clouds in the sky as if they had wronged him somehow. “I must admit to you something that is most difficult, Miss Morton. I merely want to tell you because I do not want there to be any misunderstanding of my virtue or discretion.”

  Priscilla held her breath. She wanted to scream for him not to explain away the kiss. Could he not simply let her dream that he truly loved her? Yet, she stayed silent.

  “I remember when I saw you at that dance for the first time, Miss Morton,” Doctor Rowley said, his voice unusually quiet. “I had meant to approach you, but I simply did not. Then here you were. I promise that once I heard you were to be married I vowed to be nothing but supportive. You were my patient and I was merely your doctor.”

  Priscilla watched him, afraid to be hopeful, afraid that at any moment those hopeful words may crush her heart. She held her voice and her breath as she waited for him to go on.

  Doctor Rowley gave a harsh laugh, one that seemed to stem from pain. “When you told me of your doubts about your marriage, I did not intend on kissing you. It just happened.”

  Priscilla whispered, “Is it such a bad thing that it happened?”

  His eyes locked onto her gaze. She gave him a hesitant smile. Doctor Rowley shrugged and she felt the movement of his muscles under her hand on his arm. “Doctors are supposed to maintain a certain level of propriety. I fear that I should have excused myself from your care when I realised I could not remain impartial.”

  “I am glad that you did not excuse yourself,” Priscilla told him. She looked out across the garden. “I’m glad that I got to know you. It helped me to see what courting should be and helped me to see that my feelings of uncertainty about Lord Ridlington might be founded.”

  Doctor Rowley shook his head. “Do not say that. I do not want to be responsible for the breaking of a bond.”

  “But do you not see that you are not?” Priscilla shook her head at the man. “I may not remember everything fully about my courtship with Lord Ridlington, but nothing that I remember sits well with me. Despite what everyone keeps assuring me, I know in my heart that I never loved him as I should. Perhaps I had come to terms with marrying the man, but I certainly would remember passion.”

  His brown eyes cast a glance at her as he slowed his steps. They came to a stop and faced each other under the shade of a large oak. “I feel great sorrow for him then. You are a remarkable woman, Miss Morton.”

  “My name is Priscilla, as you well know. Miss Morton is far too formal for one who knows me as you do,” Priscilla said with a smile as she clasped her hands together in front of her.

  The wind that swept across the garden pushed a brown curl in front of her eyes and she moved it to the side with her fingers, tucking it behind her ear. Doctor Rowley looked up at the leaves dancing in the wind on the great limbs of the oak tree overhead. “It is a bit too intimate,” he said without looking at her. “I fear to grow closer to you. Do you not see that it could ruin your reputation?”

  “It could ruin yours as well,” Priscilla reminded him. “I do not covet my reputation as much as some, but I do not necessarily want shame brought upon my family.” She sighed and lifted her arms up helplessly. “What am I to do? I cannot deny my feelings for you…”

  Doctor Rowley shook his head. “And what feelings are those?”

  “I would say the same as those you have for me,” Priscilla ventured. “A certain warmth of affection.”

  Doctor Rowley laughed. “I suppose I cannot deny this.”

  “You can,” Priscilla told him, a playfulness rising in her. “It probably would do you any good though.”

  He shook his finger at her. “You are a stubborn woman.”

  “I suppose I am,” Priscilla acknowledged.

  Doctor Rowley cleared his throat and Priscilla knew that he was about to attempt to interject some professionalism. She gave him a smile. He was a good doctor, but she certainly thought he was just as good a man.