“We had better sit down for this conversation.” Julia moved back to the chairs, shaking her head. “I don’t understand. You’re the one who told me I ought to be a governess or companion, that it would allow me to find independence.”
“You might also remember that I said you shouldn’t rule out marriage entirely.” Virginia sat and folded her hands in her lap. The only evidence of her previous discomposure was her red-rimmed eyes. “I haven’t been entirely blind to your time in my home, dearest cousin.” She paused in an expectant manner, as though waiting for Julia’s confession of some secret deed.
Julia hastily pulled her knitting back into her lap, turning her attention to untwisting the loose yarn. “This will make a very handsome scarf, I think. It’s turning out beautifully.”
Her cousin allowed a few seconds of silence before commenting, her tone far too knowing. “And in such a particular shade of blue, it puts me in mind of someone.”
Heat rushed up Julia’s neck and spread to her cheeks. She tried knitting faster but dropped a stitch and found all her fingers felt deceptively like thumbs.
“It’s the perfect complement to his eyes.”
Julia gasped, her stomach dropped, and she thrust the now-tangled mess of yarn away from her. “Wh-what a mess. I’ll have to fix it tomorrow.”
Virginia leaned forward and caught Julia’s hand, but Julia did not look up immediately. Though her cousin meant well, she could not possibly understand the complicated relationship which existed between Nathaniel and Julia. How could she? Julia had only told one soul about her lost love, and she did not think it right to continue dreaming about him.
But Virginia did not relent, and Julia at last met her curious gaze.
“How long have you cared for Doctor Hastings?” Virginia asked softly, her eyes gentle and her expression commiserating. “Every time he is mentioned in this house, I see your expression change. When he visits, you either disappear altogether or stare at him raptly. The two of you worked together to bring Mr. Olivier to my rescue. What is going on, Julia?”
“Doctor Hastings and I knew each other before.” To admit even that much increased the weight on her heart.
“When?”
“When I had my coming out in London. I met him nearly the first day I arrived. We became friends.”
“And? What happened?”
Julia noticed for the first time her fingers gripping her skirts, crinkling the fabric dreadfully. She released her hold on the cloth and tried to smooth out the wrinkles. She didn’t know what to say.
“You needn’t tell me everything,” Virginia said when the silence went on too long. “But we did agree we would share each other’s burdens while you are here. If there are feelings between you and the doctor, and if there is any way that I might help—”
In her nervousness, Julia released a laugh but choked on the sound. “There is nothing to be done. We have agreed to be friends. That is all there is to it.” She wrapped her arms around herself, protecting her heart from the words she said out loud. “It doesn’t matter what I feel for him. He made it clear that he has moved on with his life.”
“Oh, Julia, I’m sorry.”
“It happened long ago. Seeing him again, at such an uncertain time in my life, has only made me wonder what might have happened between us if the circumstances had been different. But Father…” Her voice trailed away and she stared at the floral carpet, tracing its patterns with her eyes, trying to quiet her emotions before speaking.
“Father did not approve and never would have. Nathaniel—Doctor Hastings—had dreams of becoming a physician. I could not ask him to wait for me, putting an added burden upon him, and I never could’ve convinced Father.”
“But Julia, if you loved him—”
“I didn’t really understand what love was,” Julia said hastily. “I didn’t know what it meant, that I should’ve fought harder for it. Mother had only been gone a year, Father was determined to marry me off, and Nathaniel was the first person in ages to make me feel like myself again. I was lost, and there was no one to talk to or to help me.” Julia’s voice rose as she spoke, until she realized her carefully concealed emotions had burst out, and she threw her hand over her mouth.
Virginia opened her mouth, her eyes wide, but before she could speak a knock sounded on the door. After shooting her cousin a narrow-eyed glare, Virginia raised her voice and bid the person enter.
Charles’s valet came into the room, his face pale. “Pardon me, my lady, but Lord Heatherton wishes to speak to you immediately.”
“He’s awake?” she asked, standing and hurrying from the room without a backwards glance. Julia understood her haste. While the laudanum allowed Charles to sleep, granting him a respite from the pain, it meant his wife had precious little time with him. Mostly, she sat next to him while he slept, leaving the running of the house to Julia.
Her heart ached for her cousin, knowing she was soon to lose the man she loved above all others. Yet Julia was grateful Virginia had experienced love.
She lifted the scarf from where it had fallen on the floor, rubbing the soft texture of the wool with her thumbs. When she selected it from the shop, she told herself it was because of the texture of the yarn. But she admitted the truth. The blue reminded her of Nathaniel’s eyes, and every time she touched it, she half-imagined him wearing it.
But she could never give it to him; it was too personal a gift.
The baron would soon pass from this world, and Virginia would leave Bath. In a short time, all the world would change, and Julia’s place in it would need to change as well.
She folded the material and placed it in her knitting basket, leaving her needles in the snarls she’d made.
“Miss?”
Julia looked up to see Emily, her borrowed maid, in the doorway. “Yes, Emily?”
“Lady Heatherton has need of you, miss. She wishes you to fetch the children from the nursery. And she’s sent for the doctor.” Emily’s normally rosy face had gone pale, her usual cheery demeanor replaced by a mournful frown.
Julia came to her feet, worry dropping into the pit of her stomach like a brick as she hurried to obey.
Chapter Seventeen
Phillip and Edward stood solemnly at their father’s bedside, holding hands in a sweet and natural expression of their love for each other, with Virginia behind them, each of her hands resting on one of their shoulders. Lamps lit the room, the flickering light bathing the family in its gentle glow. Julia stood next to the window, hand over her heart, finding both beauty and tragedy in what she witnessed.
Charles Macon, Baron of Heatherton, had woken from a laudanum induced sleep, his eyes blazing with fever and gasping for air. His manservant had helped him sit up and drink, but once the baron could speak he sent for his wife.
He wanted to say goodbye.
Julia waited nearby, trying to give the family privacy, in case Virginia had need of her.
“Phillip.” His voice was barely more than the sound of his breath. “We have talked of being a gentleman. Helping your mother.”
“Yes, Father.” The six-year-old wore a grave expression, looking more somber than a child should, with his bare feet sticking out from under his nightshirt. The boys had been asleep when Julia went to fetch them.
“As you grow, look to her for guidance. And in time you will need to care for her. Be honorable man. Take care of Edward. Help him grow.” He drew in a ragged breath, the long speech taking its toll.
“Yes, Father.” Phillip’s chin quivered but he bit his lip and did not move. Julia admired his stalwart little soul.
Edward sniffled loudly.
“Edward.” Charles turned his eyes to his younger son. “I am sorry to leave you. You’re still so little. Four years old.” A small cough interrupted his speech, but he pressed on, his words slow and careful. “But I can already see the man you will become, intelligent and kind. Be a good boy for Mother. Help Phillip to be strong and brave. I love you.”
&nb
sp; “Yes, Papa.” The boy barely managed the whispered words before turning to bury his face in his mother’s stomach, releasing his brother to cling to her and sob.
Julia took a step forward, wondering if she ought to take Edward from the room, but Virginia soothed him with gentle words.
“Sweet boy, it’s all right to cry. Papa knows you love him so much.”
“I love you all,” Charles said. “I always will.” His breath came in shallow gasps and his eyes, sunken in his thin face, he brought up to gaze at his wife. “Always, Virginia.”
“I know, love.” She smiled and bent to wrap her arms around both boys. “Say goodnight to your father. Julia will take you to the nursery and she will stay with you and Nurse Smyth.”
At last given something to do, Julia wiped the tears from her cheeks and rushed forward. She lifted Edward onto her hip, though he’d long since grown past being carried in that way, and took Phillip’s hand.
They would not stay in the room for the last of it. They need not be witness to the end of their father’s struggle. But she would do all she could to console them, and hopefully lull them back to sleep. There would be time enough for mourning in the months to come.
Julia guided the children down the hall. Their nurse waited at the doorway with mournful eyes and her mob cap askew. As Julia stepped into the nursery, she heard the door downstairs open and Nathaniel’s voice drifted up to her.
Peace settled in her heart. At least Virginia would not be alone. Nathaniel would stay until the end.
She tucked the boys back into bed, noting Phillip’s strong resemblance to his father. Neither boy had inherited their mother’s fair hair, but Edward had her green eyes. They were handsome little fellows and she felt in her heart they would make their father proud. Virginia and Charles had much to be grateful for, in regards to their children.
“Thank you, Cousin Julia,” little Edward whispered, his thumb creeping into his mouth. He’d done well without it for over a week, but Julia said nothing to discourage him. The boy should have whatever small comforts he needed this night of all nights.
“Julia?” Phillip asked.
“Yes, darling?”
“Father is going to heaven now, isn’t it?” The innocence of the question, the solemn little face above the covers, put a quaver in Julia’s voice as she answered.
“I think so, Phillip. And he will be so happy there, but he will miss you very much.”
Edward sniffled and put an arm over his eyes to hide his tears. Julia sat on the edge of his bed. “It’s all right, Edward. If you need to cry, you ought to.”
“Tell us a story, please?” Phillip asked, his voice desperate. His dark eyes were awash in more emotions than a child his size would know how to sort out. “Tell us about heaven and what it’s like. What will Father do there?”
She cleared her throat and glanced to Nurse Smyth, who had dragged over a rocking chair in which to sit.
“Aye, Miss Devon,” she said, nodding encouragement. “The boys do love your stories.” Tenderness shone on her face, and she raised one hand to lay against Phillip’s head. The boy didn’t protest the gentle touch.
“Very well. I’ll tell you what I believe happens in Heaven. Will that do?”
“Yes,” Phillip said. Edward nodded and held his hand out to her, allowing her to see his handsome little face again. Julia took it up in her hand and began her story, uncertain as to how doctrinally sound it might be. But it was happy and the boys listened quietly.
Before long, both Phillip and Edward were asleep, their breathing deep and soft.
What would it be like, to see one’s eyes in those of a child? To have a boy who looked like his father charging across lawns and sliding down banisters? Or a little girl, perhaps, with fair hair and blue eyes?
Neither Charles nor Virginia had blue eyes. Julia was not thinking of what a daughter of theirs would look like. She was thinking of Nathaniel’s engaging smile, his fair hair, and his incredible eyes, as features passed on to a child.
“You ought to go see to her ladyship,” the nurse said. “I will bring my bed in here, I think, and sleep near the young masters.”
“Let me help you.” Julia rose from Edward’s bed and followed Nurse Smyth into her adjoining bedroom. The two of them lifted her feather tick and pulled it into the nursery.
A quiet rap on the door brought their eyes up to see Emily standing there.
“I apologize, Miss Devon,” she whispered. “But with all the goings on, I wondered what I might do? You won’t be needing help preparing for bed?”
Julia had the feeling she would not be able to sleep even if granted the opportunity. “Not tonight, Emily. But could you perhaps see about some tea?”
The young maid nodded and bobbed a curtsy before vanishing from the door.
The night had only just begun and Julia already longed for morning.
∞ ∞ ∞
Baron Heatherton’s death was not the first Nathaniel had witnessed, nor would it be the last. He remembered every patient he’d observed who had crossed the threshold from this world to the next.
Not long after Nathaniel arrived, the baron asked his wife, “Where is Gerard? Isn’t Gerry here?”
To her everlasting credit, Lady Heatherton answered without worry or malice. “I am sorry, Charles. He is not in the house. Shall I send for him?”
Nathaniel knew she would’ve too, but her husband shook his head.
“I have you. You are all I need.” He held her hand on top of the bed covers.
Sometimes, this close to the veil that separated life and death, patients knew when their time had come. Nathaniel had seen one man grow angry and rage at his loved ones. He’d seen another cry, child-like, saying he was not ready to leave. But Charles Macon did neither of these things. He simply gazed at his wife who kneeled beside the bed, as though not another soul mattered, his breaths weaker and weaker, his eyes bright.
“I love you, Charles.”
They were the last words the man heard as two tears escaped him and he let out one last, soft breath. His chest stilled and the room with it.
The baroness gasped and held his hand tighter, in both of hers. She didn’t so much as glance away from his face. “Doctor?” she whispered hoarsely. “Doctor?”
Nathaniel moved to stand at the head of the bed and reached to check the baron’s pulse, but he already knew what his pronouncement would be. He looked up at the clock on the mantelpiece and saw the valet standing near, waiting.
“He is gone, my lady. His suffering has ended.”
Nathaniel could not meet her eyes immediately. Not in the face of her raw pain. He heard her sob, and then her cries were muffled when she lowered her face into the bedding. The valet moved tensely, face pale and eyes glazed over, to stop the clock. It was a quarter till eleven. The darkest hours of night were yet to come.
“Inform Thurston,” Nathaniel said calmly, and the footman swiftly went to find the butler.
Nathaniel gathered his bag and went to the door, stepping outside to give her ladyship privacy. He stood in the hall, dropping his medical bag on a table, then gave in to his own weariness and leaned back against the wall. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back.
Somewhere in the house, he heard quiet footsteps as servants went about their business. Muffled voices spoke in whispers. The household would go into mourning. There would be no social calls. A wreath would hang on the door, signifying to all the world that a loved one had been lost. The women in the household only had each other, and they were both very young.
It didn’t help matters that Mr. Heatherton would threaten their peace with his demands for guardianship of the children. The man had no heart and Nathaniel had no respect for him. He wished he could do something to help, but other than the statement he gave Timothy, he was powerless.
He couldn’t save the baron or aid the baroness in her battle to come. A physician was next to worthless in a case like this.
This loss would pain
Julia as she mourned with her cousin. The bond between the women was a close one, forged by friendship as much as family ties. The memory of Julia’s beseeching eyes when she asked him to help the baroness came to him. She’d asked him to do what he could to help Lady Heatherton.
The baroness’s fainting spell from her lack of sleep and nourishment was testament to her state of health. As strong as she was, Nathaniel could see the stress of the last several days in her bearing. Death of a loved one would take its toll further on her strength, and a long night of grieving would not help her situation. The days ahead would be trying enough without her falling ill from exhaustion.
There was something he could do to help with that.
He took in a deep breath and went back to the baron’s room. He rapped softly on the door frame before entering. The baroness remained where he had left her, kneeling beside her husband’s bed, her head bowed over his form. He took in the dark circles beneath her eyes and the tears upon her face.
He knew what a broken heart felt like, but this was more painful, more poignant and agonizing than he could imagine. Her love had been forged through years of marriage, the births of her children, and now her heart went through the crushing finality of death. It was there in every line of her face, in the way she held her body.
“My lady.” Nathaniel waited until she raised her head to speak.
Lady Heatherton bent her head to place one last kiss against her husband’s cheek. She carefully stroked the hair back from his eyes. Then she looked up at Nathaniel, her eyes reddened by tears and her face white with grief.
“Whenever you are ready, my lady.”
She gazed at her husband’s peaceful face. “Goodbye, my love.” She looked up at Nathaniel. “I am ready, Doctor.”
He gave her his hand and lifted her from the floor, then tucked it through his arm and led her out, surreptitiously lifting his bag from the stand where he’d left it. The housekeeper was in the hallway, a shawl wrapped around her nightclothes.
“Mrs. Fairchild, please send for tea for Lady Heatherton. Then sit outside the door here. Do not allow anyone to enter.”
The Gentleman Physician: A Regency Romance (Branches of Love Book 2) Page 16