A Warriner to Tempt Her

by Virginia Heath

  The boy yawned and she was all concern again. ‘It’s time for your medicine and then it’s back to sleep for you, I think.’

  ‘Indeed. A good night’s sleep works wonders, young Master Tom. That and more of Lady Isabella’s tonsil-taming tea.’

  She stood and began to limp towards the door to fetch it and Joe remembered she had been injured. ‘I can see to that. You should be at home, resting your ankle. Is your carriage waiting for you or would you like me to send for it?’ He didn’t dare offer to drive her home after the last time.

  ‘No, thank you, Dr Warriner. I shall stay till morning. I have already sent word to my family not to expect me home until then. The carriage is returning for me at six when Mrs Giles arrives.’ A servant chose that exact moment to return with his pot of coffee, which she glared at with blatant disapproval. ‘Coffee at midnight? Is that wise? If anyone needs rest, it is probably you, not I. You have a great many other patients to attend to tomorrow, including Tom, whilst I can sleep all day if I wish to. I believe your bed will do you more good than coffee will tonight. I can hold the fort here—as you have already plainly seen—and if the danger is passed, you might as well get some well-earned rest. A good night’s sleep works wonders, after all.’

  As there was no arguing with his own good advice, he did exactly as she suggested.

  Chapter Five

  The assembly room in Retford was small by London standards, but no less the crush. In the hour since their arrival, Bella had found a group of married ladies she felt comfortable conversing with and had deftly avoided being asked to dance by anyone by looking straight through any man who was fool enough to come close. Like sentries, her parents hovered close by, standing guard, which reassured her immensely. Clarissa, as usual, was stood some distance away surrounded by a positive battalion of men all fawning over her every word, enjoying being the adored centre of attention. As yet the handsome doctor was not one of them, but as he was still to make an appearance, his absence in Clarissa’s entourage did not make her feel any better about it.

  She hadn’t seen him since the night he had come to call on Tom and Bella wasn’t entirely certain how she felt about that either. His visits to the infirmary had not coincided with hers, despite the fact she had taken to volunteering every day since the little boy had fallen ill. She had felt somehow responsible for the child, seeing that his treatment regimen had begun with her and the doctor had not altered it. The sense of achievement she had at being instrumental in his recovery was phenomenal. Tom was clearly on the mend now and Bella couldn’t help patting herself on the back for being the cause. Having the brilliant Dr Warriner say ‘well done’, and without being the least bit condescending about it, had been the icing on the cake. And they had conversed about medicine! It had been so enlightening to be able to discuss the things she had only read about. Since being allowed to use his stethoscope, she now had a hundred questions about both lung and heart conditions, which the real her, deep inside, was determined to make her ask. Perhaps she would find her courage and her voice enough to ask one tonight? If he ever turned up, of course, and if he could tear himself away from her sister.

  His brothers were all here. All so like him in appearance, yet none quite as handsome despite their near-identical features and physiques. It was probably the scholarly demeanour which made the good doctor stand out as the single most attractive Warriner of the bunch.

  And the spectacles.

  Not that he wore them often, but when he did they made her mouth strangely dry. They magnified the cobalt irises of his eyes just a little bit, rendering them bluer still and more striking, and when he peered through them they served to magnify the power of his intelligence, too. Which was probably what Bella was drawn to. It couldn’t be anything else. It was only his scientific mind which drew her. His considered and reasoned logic. Even though she couldn’t stop staring at his lovely blue eyes. And perhaps the way his broad shoulders filled out his dark and sensible coat...

  She was in the midst of pondering her odd thoughts concerning the good doctor when he strode in, looking quite splendid. In deference to the occasion, his normally plain black waistcoat had been replaced by one of blue silk, which did wonders for his eyes and made her gaze at the wide expanse of his chest for a second because the real her wanted to look and she couldn’t muster up the strength to argue.

  He paused in the doorway, scanned the crowd, and Bella watched his eyes settle on her sister before he set his jaw. He watched Clarissa flirting with her harem of vying men for a few seconds, then he seemed to exhale—in defeat, disappointment, perhaps even irritation? Bella couldn’t tell but experienced the sting of it none the less, before he turned away and walked towards his family.

  * * *

  For over an hour she watched him surreptitiously. He had an easy way about him which she envied, clearly comfortable in his scholarly skin and enjoying the company of his boisterous family. When Bella accompanied her mother to the retiring room, she returned to see him dancing with one of his brothers’ wives. Bella had briefly been introduced to Mrs Cassie Warriner and had liked her immediately. She had not been introduced to her husband but had noticed his pronounced limp the first time she had seen him, so it stood to reason that particular Warriner did not dance, so his brother was standing in for him. Justifying why the doctor was dancing with a pretty woman—a pretty and obviously pregnant woman—made the fact he was dancing with one more palatable, not that Bella wanted to dance with him, of course. Dancing would mean touching and the very thought of that sent her into a panic. She never wanted to be touched again.

  At the end of the dance she lost sight of him and was scanning the crowd for his dark head when he came up alongside. ‘I see your ankle is better.’

  Instinctively, she jumped and took a step back even though he was not that close. ‘Yes, it is...although it’s not up to dancing.’ Why had she felt compelled to say that when he hadn’t asked her to?

  Idiot. He dances so well, too. I miss dancing.

  The voice inside was sighing. It was most disconcerting.

  ‘Tom is doing well.’ A safer topic and one Bella could manage without palpitations.

  ‘The inflammation is almost gone and there has been no sign of a raised temperature for a whole day now,’ she said.

  ‘I think we should keep him in the infirmary for at least another day. Little boys tend to pass on illnesses in the dormitories and we don’t want any more cases of quinsy if we can help it.’

  We.

  He kept referring to the patient as theirs, as if they shared the responsibility of his treatment, and that warmed her. He recognised her part in Tom’s recovery and her place in the infirmary. Recognised it and acknowledged it. ‘I shall check on him on Monday, and if he continues to make rapid progress, we can send him back to be with his friends.’

  ‘He’s very bored.’ Now that the crisis had passed, Tom wanted constant entertaining. She had read him every book on the little bookshelf. Some of them twice.

  ‘Excellent news. Bored is good. The very ill are rarely bored. They are too busy being ill. Only the well get bored.’

  You’re bored, the voice inside her reminded her. Bored is good. He just said so. Do you remember when you were too terrified to be bored? What is that if not progress?

  ‘Dr Warriner!’ her mother interrupted a little too casually, with her father in tow. ‘You have not yet met my husband, have you?’

  ‘Your lordship.’ Joe bowed his dark head politely. ‘It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.’

  ‘I was curious to meet the man behind the infirmary my daughter is wedded to.’ Her father looked the doctor up and down, assessing his worthiness, and to Bella’s mind he did not approve of what he saw. ‘It seems I must thank you for coming to her rescue the other day. Bella speaks very highly of your skills as a physician.’

  ‘She does?’ Those fathomless blue eyes regarded her with amusement and she blushed crimson to the tips of her toes. Subtlet
y was never her father’s strong suit and he had rather given the impression she had been waxing lyrical, which perhaps she had once or twice when she regaled her day to her family over dinner. It was splendid to be doing something again. Especially something as useful and important as healing.

  ‘I’ve been telling my parents about Tom’s tonsils and...’ Perhaps it was better not to try to explain and simply brush it off, except she couldn’t muster the nonchalance to brush it off when he was still smiling at her, so she clamped her mouth shut instead.

  Always so benevolent, Dr Warriner finished her sentence for her. ‘And I hope you have also told them how your swift intervention prevented him from going downhill. I was detained with another patient and your daughter single-handedly brought down the poor lad’s fever. By the time I arrived, the crisis had passed and he was already on the path to recovery.’

  Both of her parents gaped at her. ‘You did?’

  Once upon a time they would have expected her resourcefulness. It was a stark reminder of how far she had fallen in a year that they were both astounded and pathetically grateful to see some remnants of their old daughter return. It made Bella even more self-conscious than she was already. ‘I only brewed some willow bark tea.’

  ‘I fear I must contradict you there, my lady.’ Kind blue eyes were even more amused. ‘She sent to my surgery for a precise concoction of herbs to ease the child’s distressing symptoms. I was mightily impressed with her knowledge of medicine.’

  Her mother was now completely beside herself with joy, reading far too much into a silly potion than the thing warranted. As if being able to remember a few herbs would somehow return her to her old self. Her father was positively scowling. How she wished they would all stop staring at her. ‘Bella has always had a very scientific mind. Had she been born male, I have no doubt she would have been the most dedicated and brilliant of scholars.’ Her father disapproved of her ‘hobby’ but had allowed it in Retford while she ‘convalesced’, even though he had decreed that daughters of earls were not supposed to get their hands dirty. He was, however, prepared to indulge her for the duration of the summer whilst she was out of sight in Retford to see if industry reaped better rewards than the water treatments and bloodletting.

  ‘If you’ll pardon me for saying it, sir, your daughter is a dedicated and brilliant scholar. Anyone who is familiar with the recent writings of Dr Laennec has a knowledge of medicine which exceeds that of the average layman.’ Things her father would be mortified to hear. Dr Warriner began to rifle in his coat pocket. ‘Which reminds me, I brought you this, Lady Isabella.’ He handed her a wooden stethoscope. ‘This was the original one I had made, but it is far too dainty for my enormous hands and I thought you might like it.’

  Bella supposed most girls would melt if a man gave her flowers, but the exquisitely turned medical instrument was more beautiful to her than a bouquet of a thousand crimson roses. A funny little nerve jumped in her tummy and her heartbeat was so fast and so loud in her own head she doubted anyone would need a stethoscope to hear it. ‘I don’t know what to say... Thank you... I shall treasure it.’

  Her parents shared a knowing look and instantly Bella wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. Her father was clearly both concerned and horrified in equal measure. They were reading things into this innocent exchange which were not there. Dr Warriner was being nice and respected her mind. Just as she respected his mind...except there was so much more she was coming to like about him.

  ‘There you are, Dr Warriner!’ Clarissa sailed towards them and his eyes swivelled automatically. She threaded an arm through his possessively. ‘You did promise to dance with me, did you not?’

  ‘I did.’ Apparently, Bella was now forgotten, which was probably just as well. She had no place having fanciful thoughts about a man when being alone with one of them terrified her and the thought of being touched by one was quite repellent. Although Dr Warriner’s touch hadn’t been exactly that. If at all.

  ‘I pencilled you in for the waltz, which is the next dance. Isn’t it a good job I found you in time?’ As she led him away, clamped to him like a barnacle to the hull of a ship, Clarissa briefly turned back and smiled, letting Bella know the handsome doctor had been stolen away on purpose—because she could steal him, or any other man for that matter, away. Ever since she had been lauded as the Incomparable of the previous Season, Clarissa had become preoccupied with her own attractiveness. She had to be the prettiest girl in any room and all the handsome men, even the untitled ones, had to want to fall at her graceful feet. Dr Warriner was yet another willing conquest, something Bella suddenly found irritating.

  Her father seemed fit to burst. ‘I shall be having words with Clarissa. I do not approve of her dancing with that man. I’ve heard dreadful stories about that family—and we already know about his brother’s antics in London. Jacob Warriner is a shocking rake and, if the locals are to be believed, the elder two are no better. Both tricked innocent girls into marriage. The Reverend Reeves lost his daughter after one of them seduced her. Father and daughter are now quite estranged as her husband cruelly keeps them apart. He told me so himself just a few minutes ago.’ The stick-thin vicar was stood piously in the corner, clutching his tattered Bible, silently but obviously disapproving of the dancing. ‘There is also talk the eldest abducted his wife to get his hands on her fortune. How else would such a man come to marry the Tea Heiress?’

  Bella glanced across the room to the group of laughing Warriners. The wives appeared very happy with their husbands. The two women and their men could not look more besotted if they tried, and after Dr Bentley’s scandalous refusal to attend to Tom, Bella was inclined to be on the family’s side rather than the humourless vicar’s. ‘There are as many people here in Retford who would tell you the Warriners are good people. Dr Warriner runs a busy practice and the Countess of Markham runs the foundling home I have been volunteering in.’

  ‘That is as may be, but until I see tangible proof they are not as they have been reported, I should prefer it if my daughters maintained a safe distance. And that includes any and all dealings with Dr Warriner.’

  Bella felt compelled to defend him, even if she was disappointed he preferred her self-absorbed sister. ‘Dr Warriner is a brilliant physician, Papa.’

  ‘Hmm.’ His eyes followed his eldest daughter to the dance floor. ‘I doubt you would be so foolish, Bella, but if he asks you to dance tonight, make sure you decline.’

  ‘I do not wish to dance with him, or anyone, Papa.’ The real her inside was longing to dance with the doctor. To be twirled around and to gaze up into those spectacled eyes. Where did that thought come from?

  ‘But he is very handsome.’ This came from her mother and it earned her a sharp look from her husband which she ignored. ‘And he seemed very taken with you.’

  ‘Are you blind, woman? The scoundrel has clearly set his cap at Clarissa. Or perhaps, like his eldest brother, it is her dowry which appeals to him.’

  ‘Dr Warriner is a man of science, not a fortune-hunter.’ Bella was compelled to defend him.

  ‘Then already he has lured you into his web of deceit if you believe such nonsense! Are you telling me you are also tempted by Dr Warriner?’

  ‘The only part of Dr Warriner which interests me is his brain.’ Liar. ‘Clarissa is welcome to the rest of him.’ Lord, spare me the sight of the pair of them together. ‘When can we go home?’

  * * *

  Miraculously, Joe enjoyed an entire night of uninterrupted sleep at his brother’s house. Jack and Letty had insisted he come home and spend a Sunday with the family because he looked tired and needed a break. Knowing they were right, he hadn’t argued. Mrs Patterson knew exactly where to find him and would not hesitate to rouse him for the smallest emergency, yet thankfully no midnight messengers had come to spoil his slumber. Joe woke naturally to soft daylight and the delicious smell of a hot breakfast for the first time in months.

  He was also feeling pretty pl
eased with himself. He had danced with the delectable Clarissa twice and one of those had been the only waltz of the evening. As he had spun her around the floor, several pairs of male eyes had watched them jealously, all coveting the rare prize in his arms. Not only had the woman of his dreams danced with him, she had favoured him with her attention throughout. They had chatted over refreshments and she had practically dragged him towards her gaggle of admirers and kept hauling him back every time he wandered off. Clarissa might not be head over heels in love with him, or, if he was being brutally honest with himself, anywhere close, but she certainly now knew he existed. His poor heart swelled at the knowledge and he ignored the nagging voice which kept questioning why there had been no intriguing tingles when he had touched her hand or held her close.

  Instead, Joe took his time shaving and dressing, intent on savouring the luxury of time passing, and sauntered into the breakfast room feeling more refreshed than he had in ages. His younger brother, Jake, was the only occupant and was sat with his feet crossed on another chair, reading a newspaper.

  ‘Good morning.’

  His brother’s head popped over the newspaper and he grinned. ‘I should imagine it certainly is! I never thought I’d see the day when my scholarly big brother was wooing two ladies simultaneously.’

  ‘Two?’ Joe was genuinely baffled. ‘How much did you drink last night?’

  ‘Nowhere near enough to miss the delicious frisson in the air. But be warned, Dr Sensible, whilst I heartily approve of wooing two ladies at the same time, the fact they are sisters will cause all manner of complications. Juggling both Beaumonts is not going to be easy. Especially with their father watching you like a hawk.’

  ‘Very funny.’ Joe began to load his plate with the bounty on the sideboard. ‘But as usual you have got the wrong end of the stick.’ He balanced two crisp rashers of bacon on the mountain of scrambled eggs and carried a slice of toast to the table in his teeth.