and I regret causing you any trouble today. As my father would say, repentance will not cure mischief, though.”
He smiled, a hasty movement of his lips, and she was caught up in the sight of it. “You’ve nothing to repent. You’ve caused no mischief, and the girl will be fine. In fact, without your calm handling of the situation, she might have come to a great deal more harm.”
“Do not compliment me for being weak and faint-hearted.”
He dropped his hands then, a portion of his cravat coming unraveled as he did so. “I do not think of you as being weak, Miss Dunne. Not in the least.”
She blushed. “Dr. Edmunds, your neck cloth needs retying. Let me try,” Rachel offered, though it had been years since she’d tied a cravat. Anything to change the direction of his words or her thoughts.
“Molly is not the most efficient valet,” he said. Rachel stepped up to him, her fingers deft on the heavy white silk, so close to his cleanly shaven chin. The scent of tangy cologne rose off his clothes. She tried not to notice how near her hand was to his face, or that the tips of her sturdy and scuffed half boots were within inches of his polished black shoes. Or that an errant strand of hair curled over his forehead, requiring only the merest lift of her hand to sweep it back into place.
“Regarding the apple girl,” he said, his steady gaze on Rachel’s face, “if you wish to see how she’s progressing, we can go to her home in a day or so. You were very concerned about her.”
“I was.” Even though she was not Rachel’s patient and therefore not her responsibility. But when did that sort of recognition stop her heart from squeezing at the thought of the child’s injuries? “I would like that. So long as the visit is not an inconvenience to you, Dr. Edmunds.”
“None whatsoever. I usually check up on all my patients. I have to make sure the surgeon’s done a proper job.”
“They can be so—” Rachel stopped. She had nearly admitted her opinion of surgeons, especially those who treated impoverished children, and the knot slipped in her shaking fingers. “I am not good at tying a cravat at all.”
“I trust you’ll succeed. Try again,” he encouraged.
She picked up the ends of the strip of cloth and began tying it again. What was fashionable? A simple loose knot with the ends tucked into the waistcoat would be best. And all she could manage, with her nerves jangling as they were.
Knot finished, her fingertips brushed against the thick linen of his shirt as she hastily tucked the neck cloth. “There you are. I hope it is passable.”
“Very passable, and now I won’t be late for dinner.”
“Your friends have yet to arrive, I believe. Not that I have been attempting to watch for your dinner companions, Dr. Edmunds . . .” Her cheeks warmed. How she wished she could keep from blushing at the least provocation.
He seemed amused. It was hard to tell, when amusement sat so uncomfortably on his face. “Dr. Castleton would be flattered to know of your interest, Miss Dunne.”
Thankfully he had misunderstood who it was she’d been hoping to spot. “I heard that Dr. Castleton and his sister were coming for dinner. He is the physician taking over your practice, correct?”
“The same. A very skilled physician and good friend.” He glanced down at what he could see of his cravat. “That looks excellent.”
Actually, the knot looked lopsided. “My father would be appalled if I had fixed up his neck cloth so poorly. He was very particular.”
“Would your father have another saying for this situation?” he asked.
“Perhaps something along the lines of taking the ax out of the carpenter’s hands, because I am certain there is someone in this household more competent at tying cravats than myself.”
“I would not be so sure.” He paused as if he’d had a sudden thought. “You know, Miss Dunne, Dr. Castleton is very interested in Ireland and would certainly enjoy hearing your father’s sayings. Perhaps you could join us after dinner this evening, talk with him about Ireland. Tell all of us about your homeland. I’ve never been. I would like to hear about it.”
Join them? Rachel knew his offer was merely polite generosity, because joining them was impossible for a woman like her. Though a piece, a tiny piece low in her heart, wished desperately that it were possible, and not just so she could