satisfy her curiosity about Miss Castleton. She would love to belong in his company, be an equal, be valued as such rather than looked upon as a poor Irish woman in need of charity.
Oh, Rachel, you may as well wish for a storybook hero to come and rescue you.
“I would greatly enjoy visiting with your friends, but obviously I cannot. I doubt Dr. Castleton would be much diverted by my conversation, anyway.”
“He would likely be very diverted, especially by a woman as intelligent and capable and sensible as you are.”
Sensible. Perhaps not the trait she wished he would see in her.
CHAPTER 10
Will you be leaving your excellent cook behind, James?” asked Thaddeus, his thick, dark sideburns shifting as he grinned. “My wife would love to have her.”
“I’m afraid, Thaddeus, Mrs. Mainprice goes with me,” replied James, signaling Molly to clear the remainder of the dessert from the dining room.
Thaddeus leaned back and patted his mouth one last time with the napkin. Molly whisked it away before it barely had time to rest on the tablecloth. “The boiled capon, the turbot, the haricot verts almondine . . . most impressive.”
“And the marvelous raspberry-and-currant tart. Do not forget that, Thaddeus,” said Miss Castleton, seated beside her brother. Blonde and fine-boned, deceptively fragile-looking, she shimmered like dew upon fields of spring grass in her gown of layered lime-green muslin. A beautiful display. And though she had complimented the meal, she’d hardly touched any of it. James knew her thoughts lay elsewhere. On marriage.
To him.
God, show me the way out of this without offending a friend.
“I’m glad you both enjoyed the meal,” James said. “I will relay your compliments to Mrs. Mainprice.”
“If you change your mind about taking her to Finchingfield with you, just let me know.” Thaddeus shook his head. “Ah, James, every time I think about you leaving, I still refuse to believe it. And in less than a month. Though I should have been expecting you might finally decide to go. Your father did want you to take over the property.”
“He did.” Though I’ve been far from ready. As much as the doctoring had worn him down, the responsibilities . . . the duties he would face in Finchingfield were even more wearying.
James smiled at Thaddeus and his sister, who did not need to know the conflict churning in his head, nor would likely care. “If all goes well, my departure will be sooner than a month. My assistant is rapidly cataloging the library and the contents of my office, my father’s property in Finchingfield is being repaired and repainted, and my patients have all been informed—”
“And I can hear them now: ’How dare that Dr. Edmunds leave us to the likes of Dr. Castleton! He has no bedside manner and will likely kill us all off within a fortnight.’”
“None of them have protested as yet.”
“Furthermore, there’s Finchingfield itself,” Thaddeus continued, warming to his subject. Miss Castleton sipped quietly from a glass of lemonade and tried to look disinterested, though James knew she hung on every word. “A lovely area, no doubt at all. And your family’s house is grand, if a bit tumbled-down. But you’ll be bored in a month’s time, maybe a week’s time, pottering around in the garden, ambling down country lanes occupied by nothing more than farmers’ wagons and country wives on their way to market, counting the hours to your next meal or the days to a visit by the local parson.”
An itch developed along James’s torso, an itch of irritation. He had heard this commentary repeatedly from Thaddeus since he’d told his friend about his decision to leave London and his thriving practice.
“I shall enjoy the clean air and quiet,” James insisted. “And I will finally have time to actually read all the books I’ve amassed in my library.”
“All you need to complete the picture is a dog at your feet, cozy by the fire. Well, that shall be thrilling. Don’t you agree, Louisa?”
“Actually, Thaddeus, country air does sound like a most pleasing change from the air of London.” She smiled prettily at James, willing him to see how eager she was to join him there.
James gave her a noncommittal nod, sipped from his glass of seltzer, and stayed quiet. The countryside would never suit her. Louisa Castleton was born to the city like a bird was meant to fly.
“Louisa, I do believe you’ve grown bored with London,” said her brother, lifting his brows but not looking truly surprised at her comment. “I never thought