Jock looked shocked. “But we are betrothed, she and I!”
“I’m sorry. I had to tell you what I think.”
“The lass will change. She is young and wilful.”
“Not so much younger than I am, Jock.”
“But you are different!”
“Oh?”
“You have quality. You’ve lived in a world I’ll never know. I might read about it in books but I’ll never be part of it.”
She said, “None of us can live in more than one world at a time. But we can learn about other societies or even distant places in books. Often, Jock, you’ll find yourself preferring this small, isolated world of Invermere to the great one outside.”
“But will I not become dissatisfied with Invermere?”
“Only if you think it inferior. Why not make Invermere a better place to live? That is what my husband is trying to do. I would find the same thing commendable in you, Jock.”
Jock eyed her with new interest. He said, “I have been reading in the London paper that soon there will be steam railways to replace stages, and tracks will be placed through all the isolated parts of the country. Soon there will be no villages cut off from the main world.”
“I think that will happen.”
“A man might find work with the steam railway,” he suggested. “Be part of something new, and not have to toil in the lumber woods or go out to the Loch in freezing cold to turn with half-filled nets.”
She laughed. “There, you see! You have ambition! Don’t let Rose ruin it all for you.”
“I will show her,” he said. “I have learned to read and I can be as important as the schoolmaster.”
“Of course you can!” she encouraged him.
“Joy!” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He suddenly took her in his arms and hungrily kissed her.
She was stunned. She had guessed he liked her but had not expected him to react in this fashion. He almost immediately let her go, and looked so shattered that she felt sorry for him.
In a low voice, he said, “I have betrayed your friendship!”
She faced him, and caught him by the arm. “Listen to me!”
He pulled back in his anguish. “I have shamed myself.”
“No, Jock! I’m as much to blame as you!”
“That cannot be!”
“I told you of my loneliness and asked you to call me by my given name.”
“That is no excuse for what I did!”
“Don’t think about it!” she said. “And don’t worry about John. He would be the first to understand. I reached out to you in my fear and loneliness. I needed a friend!”
“I no longer have the right to be your friend!”
“Of course you have,” she said. “I shall think of you as I do of my brother in England.”
“You are not merely trying to ease my shame?”
“I’m talking to you honestly as one human to another. I do need friendship. And I need to help you! I need to do something to feel some pride in. You have given me that chance.”
“I must never come back here,” he said, sadly.
“Jock!” she said. And she raised herself on her toes so that she might kiss him on the cheek. “You must not desert me! You must never think of doing such a thing!”
He stared at her in wonder. “You forgive me?”
“Of course,” she said. “I’m not suggesting we be lovers. I want you as my trusted friend. Neither of us have done any wrong. We must go on as before without even thinking of this.”
After a moment without speaking he nodded. She knew that she had made him understand. She would still have him as her friend.
Time went by and she became more accustomed to the role of doctor’s wife, and hardened to the stark routine of the operating room. She considered herself John’s wife, and the wide, gold wedding band on her finger signified their union. The village folk respected them. All seemed to be going well.
Then with one of the weekly mails there came a letter in her mother’s handwriting. Most of her correspondence had been with her father or Hilda, with an occasional letter from her friend, Nancy. Only at Christmas and on her birthday had her righteous mother deigned to send her a message. Now there was this unexpected letter.
She tore the envelope open with trembling fingers, and read the letter. Fortunately, she was seated at the kitchen table of the cottage and alone, so she was able to study the letter in private. Her mother wrote in her usual, curt manner:
“By the time you receive this message your father will have been buried. He had a heart seizure in his office at Parliament, and was dead before a doctor could arrive. We are all terribly shocked, but know it would be impossible for you to get here for the funeral. Your father often spoke lovingly of you, and you are to be well provided for in his will. I shall continue here at Berkeley Square, alone. James will succeed your father in the House. He and Hilda have a young son, Richard, born several weeks ago. So your father did live to see his first grandchild. I do not know what your plans are. We should all like to see you. But I understand it might be difficult and embarrassing for you to return to London. You are often in my thoughts and always in my heart, Your loving mother.”
Joy burst into tears, and sat at the table with her head resting on her arm. The death of her father had severed one great link with London.
CHAPTER 5
During the period of mourning for her father, Joy received letters from Hilda and Nancy. The letter from Nancy came first, and was full of London news. In one part her friend wrote: “I know how much you loved your father and I offer my heartfelt sympathy in this loss. I know your own courage will help you bear this great sorrow. I often ponder on death, now that I have given life. My son is more than a year old and lively. I’m pregnant for a second time. I often think that my husband and I have little in common but the begetting of children.
“I have been doing a great deal of work for the poor of late. I’m associated with a group called Friends Of The Poor. The leader is a talented man, Ernest Layton, who is a Liberal member of Parliament. He is giving all his free time to this splendid work among London’s poverty stricken. I hope all goes well in Scotland, and that you and John are both in good health.”
With a sigh she put Nancy’s letter aside, and opened the one addressed to her in Hilda’s neat hand. Hilda wrote: “I know how you must feel about your father’s death. I doubt that your mother was any more tactful in writing than she is in person. She is cold and cannot help herself. But I do want you to know your father continually talked of you. He visited James and me often and he found a special joy in our new arrival. The boy somewhat resembles him, if you can truthfully say a baby resembles anyone. At any rate, your father was pleased with him. He suggested if I should have a girl it ought to be named Joy. And I agree. So you can be sure he was always proud of you.
“Aside from this sad bereavement, and I shall surely miss your father as much as anyone, life is going well for us. James is taking complete charge of the estate, the farm in Surrey holds his special interest. He has deserted the gaming tables and debauchery for his wife and home. I find him much like you in his viewpoints and angers. More pertinent news. Friends of mine have recently seen your husband. They claim that Sir George is using a walking stick and seems in bad health. James claims he spends much of his time in a house of ill repute.
“I often think of you and John. I trust his practice is going well. I wish we could occasionally meet. I’m sure our close friendship will continue through our lives. James sends his love to you and John. Your affectionate sister, Hilda.”
A week after the news, John told her, “You need a change. Before the winter sets in we’ll have a holiday in Edinburgh.”
And he kept his promise. They spent a week seeing friends and buying needed supplies and clothing. She made a call at the Stewart Bank where the manager explained that with her father’s death a great deal of money had been transferred to her account.
John renew
ed a friendship with an old friend who had headed the Medical School at Edinburgh University. His name was Dr. Stanley Marsh and he was a stout, balding bachelor of sixty, with a good sense of humor. They dined with him several times, once at an inn, and then at his quarters at the university. They gathered there on the last night of their holiday.
After dinner they sat in his comfortable living room. John brought up the matter of the North’s need for doctors. He asked, “What is the University doing to encourage young doctors to set up practice in the Highlands?”
Dr. Marsh sat with a cigar in one hand and a glass of brandy in the other. He said, “We try to get them to go there. But many have little interest because of the isolation and scant remuneration.”
John said, “But the satisfaction is great. And the need is equally great.”
Dr. Marsh showed a twinkle in his eyes as he said, “Did you not go to London to begin your career? And where else would you have found a wife so charming as Joy?”
Joy said, “But he wasn’t happy when we met. He was already pining to return to the Highlands.”
“True,” John said. “And though I did not return to the village where I was born I picked out a similar place.”
“The greatest problem is money,” Dr. Marsh said frankly. “The most talented graduates expect to be well paid for those talents. So they seek out practices in the cities.”
“A fund could be set up to help those who are willing to take the smaller practices in the rural areas.”
“Perhaps the government will step in one day,” Dr. Marsh suggested.
“Small use counting on that!” John grumbled.
“You are to be commended for remaining where you are,” the stout man said. “And so is Mrs. Hastings. Too often a complaining wife demands her husband seek employment in the cities.”
She said, “I try not to interfere.”
“For which I praise you,” the elderly doctor said.
“Joy has been my right hand,” John said with a look of admiration for her. “She, and an intelligent local girl named Heather, are our nursing staff. I’ve done almost every sort of operation, with their assistance.”
“Excellent,” the head of the medical school said. “I understand some good nursing schools are being established. Have you had any professional training, Mrs. Hastings?”
“No,” she said. “I grew up idle and rich in London.”
Dr. Marsh chuckled. “You appear to have reformed. And I would say working under your husband will be the equivalent to the best training.”
“I’m not easy on her,” John said. “I want her to be a capable nurse.”
“When were you married?” Dr. Marsh asked her.
She hesitated, then said, “After leaving London.”
John came to her rescue, saying, “I placed the wedding ring on her finger in Birmingham.”
“Not a romantic city,” Dr. Marsh smiled. “But I’m sure you both were in a romantic mood.”
“And have ever since remained so,” John said with a knowing smile for her.
The first thing Joy did when she returned to Invermere was to bring out some of the materials for dressmaking she’d purchased in Edinburgh. She measured Heather and said, “I want to make you a fine dress before I get too busy with other things.”
Heather, in her chemise, was terribly embarrassed. “It isn’t right for a lady like you to be acting as a seamstress for the likes of me!” she protested.
Tape measure in her hands, Joy said, “But I really enjoy doing this!” And she was. The dress magically took shape, and she was pleased with its pale blue color.
When the first reading session of the autumn arrived she insisted that Heather wear this new dress. She also spent hours restyling her hair and placing some oil on it. The light oil served its purpose well, giving Heather’s normally brown hair a new sheen.
Joy stood back and surveyed her handiwork, and was pleased. The blushing girl who sat before her bore only a faint resemblance to the plain Heather she had first met. She exclaimed, “Heather! I declare you’re beautiful!”
“Don’t make fun of me, ma’am,” the girl begged.
“You are,” she insisted. “If you don’t take my word let us see what the doctor says when he comes home.”
John returned in time for dinner, and when he saw Heather he stared at her in awe. He said, “I have two lovely ladies living under my roof!”
The meeting was held at the modest home of the Reverend Robin Miles. He welcomed them, and noticing the change in Heather he exclaimed, “What a transformation!”
They read Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew, with John doing the male role, and Heather reading the part of the shrew. She was excellent in her reading, and schoolmaster Jack Taggart openly neglected the simpering Rose and stared with amazement at the new Heather. Jock Monroe read the part of the father, and also seemed stunned to see Heather looking so lovely. At the end of the meeting several of the young men offered to see Heather home, but she politely declined, saying she was with Dr. Hastings and his wife.
When they returned to the cottage Joy told the girl, “You must wear your hair like that from now on. And we must make you other becoming dresses. And don’t refuse the young men when they wish to see you home.”
Heather blushed, “You’ve made a Cinderella out of me, ma’am.”
John laughed. “But there’s no midnight for this Cinderella. You’re going to continue looking lovely.”
It was the start of a new life for Heather. Within a week one of the young fishermen invited her to the village dance. She accepted, and on her return related to Joy the good time she’d had.
Joy said, “You’ve missed the fun of life too long. Now you must catch up.”
Heather removed her bonnet with a small frown. “Jock was there with that silly Rose.”
“He’s given her a ring. I’m surprised they haven’t married yet,” Joy said.
“Rose keeps delaying the wedding,” Heather replied with annoyance. “She’s still playing with the idea of leaving Jock for that school teacher.”
“I wish Jack Taggart would run off with her,” Joy said. “Those two deserve each other.”
“Tonight she spent much of the time with Jack, making Jock stand by, looking silly.”
“You like Jock?”
“I can’t bear to see him make himself look so simple! Mooning after a girl without a brain in her head!”
“You’re angry because you’re fond of him and he’s in danger of wasting his life on that girl. I’ve told him so, as well.”
Heather said, “Please talk to him again. He likes you. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”
“I’ll try,” she agreed. “It’s not an easy matter.”
Heather gave a sigh. “He’ll be going to the woods soon, so he will be away from her for a while.”
Joy said, “Why don’t you set your cap for him, Heather?”
“He’d never look at me!”
“You’re wrong! I’ve watched him and he’s given you many admiring glances since you’ve changed your hair style and your way of dressing. You have more real beauty than Rose.”
Heather shook her head. “He can do better than me.”
Joy was discouraged. She had changed the girl’s appearance, but there was something wrong with her thoughts. Heather badly needed confidence. But how give it to her?
Winter arrived suddenly. Joy tried to ignore the cruel cold, and the biting winds which blew in from the Loch. There was a new fall of snow each day. Getting about the village became difficult, and the weekly mail was often delayed. Sometimes weeks went by without any word from outside.
The holidays arrived, and with them a wave of bad colds which kept John busy. They did find time to attend the midnight service at the kirk. Reverend Robin Miles read about the Three Wise Men, and Mary and the Holy Child. Then they made their ways to their sleighs, and drove home over the snowy roads.
The New Year was celebrated in typical Scottish style
. John insisted they go to the town hall where the festivities included dancing and bagpipes. There was food for everyone and plenty to drink! The men from the woods and sea were home for the grand party. Heather was there, and once she danced with Jock. The big man was lively on his feet, and Heather’s face was flushed with happiness as she danced with him.
At midnight there were cheers and a general kissing. John took Joy in his arms and said, “The chimes will be ringing loud in Edinburgh at this moment!”
Whiskey had made the heads of most as light as their hearts, and amid the lilting rings of bagpipes in the background there was a confusion of kissing and wishing one another a Happy New Year! Joy found herself being kissed by such unlikely parties as the little Reverend Robin Miles and the old shepherd, Noddy. And she enjoyed it! She was happy and grateful to be there with the man she loved.
The Holidays ended all too quickly, and the winter seemed doubly harsh once the days of celebration were over. The weekly meetings of the reading club had to be cancelled, so Joy did much reading on her own. She spent a great deal of time studying the medical books which John had in his office.
One day in early February the long delayed mail arrived. There were many letters for her from London. She had received her mother’s Christmas card in an earlier mail, and now she had a brief note from Lady Susan expressing her annoyance at being alone for Christmas.
She wrote, “I’m finding no one wishes to bother with a lone widow. James and his family were only here on Boxing Day. But little Richard is a lovely child. Hilda is pregnant once again, and so by summer’s end I will have another grandchild. I trust your own Holiday season was pleasant; though I can’t think that you can have as much enjoyment in that primitive land of ignorant people as you might have in London. I have always disliked Scots and Scotland!”
Joy put the letter aside with a sigh and picked out the envelope with Hilda’s fine handwriting. The letter began wryly: “What a Christmas gift I’ve been given! I’m pregnant again! I must say I’m less than deliriously happy and do not look forward to the months of gradually loosening my stays and having the vapors! But James is pleased and I try to boost my own feelings by telling myself the new arrival with be a girl with your qualities.
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