The doctor was just as amiable as she recalled. A trim gentleman of middling height and age—his brown hair was shot with silver at the temples—he wasn’t particularly handsome, but he possessed a charming manner and kind brown eyes. Eyes that held hers for a moment longer than was perhaps necessary before he bowed over her hand.
“Miss Jardine,” he said, a genuine smile playing about his lips. While his gaze held a warm light, his long fingers were cool against her skin. “It has been far too long.”
“Yes, it has,” Arabella replied, dismayed that she sounded a little breathless. “It’s lovely to see you again.” The doctor released her hand and she curled her fingers into her palm; she fancied that she still felt his touch. Giving herself a mental shake for being such a goose, she added, “And before I forget, I must thank you for arranging a tour for me. It’s been most enlightening.”
“I’m pleased to hear it. And you’re most welcome, Miss Jardine. I know you have a passionate interest in facilities such as this one.” The doctor turned his attention back to the matron who was observing them both with a quizzical expression. “Good afternoon, Matron. I understand you have need of me.”
“Yes.” The young woman gave a succinct recount of the situation, even describing Arabella’s intervention when Sally had taken ill. “So unfortunately, it seems we might have a measles outbreak on our hands,” she concluded gravely.
Concern shadowed Dr. Radcliff’s eyes. “Would that you and Miss Jardine were wrong, Matron. But I rather suspect you’re not.” He caught her gaze again. “If circumstances were different, I’d suggest we take a turn about the picture gallery and then ask Mrs. Bradley to arrange tea for us all”—he nodded at the matron—“in one of the parlors. But I’m afraid it will have to be another time. I hope you understand, Miss Jardine.”
“Yes, of course.” Even though disappointment tugged at her heart, Arabella summoned a smile. “I look forward to it.”
“Perhaps when you return from the Continent?” Dr. Radcliff was following the matron toward the ward. “How long will you be away? I don’t recall you mentioning that in your last letter.”
“Four months at this stage.”
The doctor paused on the threshold. “Be sure to send me your direction. I want to tell you all about my plans for a new clinic at Seven Dials. I’m modeling it on the Universal Dispensary for Children. Oh, and be sure to squeeze in a visit to the Enfants-Trouvés and the Enfants-Malades in Paris if you have the chance. They’re both wonderful hospitals.”
Arabella inclined her head. “I will. Goodbye, Dr. Radcliff. Matron.” But Matron was asking the doctor if he had any Godfrey’s Cordial on hand as he stepped into the room. And then the door closed behind him.
Arabella sighed as she retraced her steps along the corridor, heading toward the hospital’s main entrance. It was such a shame that fate had conspired against her this afternoon. She’d been so looking forward to spending a little more time with Dr. Radcliff. Of course, their encounter had been so brief she couldn’t be sure if he looked upon her as anything more than a friend. They were certainly like-minded individuals. And from what she’d seen of him on the three occasions they’d met, he was a most congenial, even-tempered man. He would make some lucky woman a lovely husband. If he wished to marry again of course . . .
Arabella had no idea what his wishes were in that regard. But after today, it had become abundantly clear to her that she wouldn’t mind at all if Dr. Graham Radcliff began to view her as a prospective spouse. As a doctor’s wife—particularly as the wife of someone with Dr. Radcliff’s social connections—it would be much easier for her to realize her goal. To make a real difference to all those children who were forced to endure inferior conditions in poorly funded and poorly managed institutions up north. For now though, she could at least take heart in the fact Dr. Radcliff wanted to continue corresponding with her. And dare she believe he wanted to see her again when she returned to London? Why else would he ask how long she would be away?
It might still be raining, but Arabella’s spirits weren’t the least bit dampened as she hailed another hackney coach. Hopefully this Grand Tour she was about to embark upon would be over with before she knew it. And then she could get on with the life she truly wanted.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Amy Rose Bennett is an Australian author who has a passion for penning emotion-packed historical romances. Of course, her strong-willed heroines and rakish heroes always find their happily ever after.
A former speech pathologist, Amy is happily married to her very own romantic hero and has two lovely, very accomplished adult daughters. When she’s not creating stories, Amy loves to cook up a storm in the kitchen, lose herself in a good book or a witty rom-com, and when she can afford it, travel to all the places she writes about.
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How to Catch a Wicked Viscount Page 33