respect your father’s dying wish, but none of this feels right. I had hoped when you didn’t rush up to Finchingfield immediately that you agreed with me. But farming . . . It isn’t what I ever thought you would do with your life. What happened to the James I used to know? The one who used to be ambitious, confident. The most promising physician I had ever met.”
He died three years ago, Thaddeus. “You should be pleased I’m leaving London. You’ll profit handsomely from taking over my practice.”
“I’m hardly pleased. Just do me a favor . . . make certain you know what you’re doing.”
“I am retiring to the countryside. The last time I checked, that is not a criminal offense.” James stubbed out his cigar, barely smoked, and tugged hard on his waistcoat. “Let’s join the ladies before I regret having you take over my practice. Those patients of mine just might be right about worrying that you’ll become their physician.”
Rachel smiled nervously at Miss Castleton, perched on a sofa placed at an angle to the large drawing room window. She could hear Dr. Edmunds’s voice, loud in the dining room just below them, his words but not his tone muffled by the thickness of the wood between. She imagined Miss Castleton could hear him as well, though her expression was a calm and unruffled flatness as if she were deaf to the world. Sipping her coffee with practiced elegance, Miss Castleton looked around the room, though Rachel suspected she had been there before.
Unease stretched between them, pulled tight as the warp on a loom, until Rachel feared her nerves would snap. What am I doing here? She wished she could leave, her curiosity about Miss Castleton well sated, but leaving would be unpardonably rude.
Downstairs, the voices stopped. Certainly Miss Castleton had noticed, for the sudden silence below caused her shoulders to visibly relax.
“Would you care for more coffee, Miss Castleton?” asked Rachel, looking to fill the void with something resembling polite conversation. Miss Castleton hadn’t said a word to her other than “yes” or “no” since they had been alone together. To expect she might say more was unrealistic. A woman who was the sister of a gentleman, who aspired to be the wife of a gentleman, would not readily converse with someone she viewed as her inferior. Although Rachel evidently intrigued her. Miss Castleton had watched her closely when Rachel had poured the coffee for them both. “Or perhaps a bite of seedcake?”
“More coffee would be pleasant.” Miss Castleton stared down the length of her fine nose while Rachel refilled her cup. “Can you remind me what your position is in this household, Miss Dunne?”
“I am Dr. Edmunds’s assistant.” And right now I feel as insignificant as a bug . . .
“I thought he already had an assistant. Miss Guimond.”
“She is no longer with Dr. Edmunds, but I have not replaced her. I am cataloging the contents of his library and helping pack his office. A temporary position until I find a place in a school as a teacher.”
Miss Castleton’s eyes, a gorgeous violet fringed by fair eyelashes, peered at her. Rachel decided they were her best feature and made her quite amazingly lovely. “So you’re not to go with the rest of the household to Finchingfield.”
“No.”
“Yes, I remember that is what James . . . oh, I mean, Dr. Edmunds, told us.” She attempted to look embarrassed at having so familiarly dropped Dr. Edmunds’s Christian name, though Rachel suspected it was no accident. “It must be hard to find respectable employment, coming as you are from Ireland.”
The barb found its mark, but Rachel ignored the temptation to react to its sting. It was likely Miss Castleton meant to be spiteful; it was just as likely she was merely speaking the awful truth as she knew it. “I am fortunate that my cousin, Miss Harwood, will assist me. She knows of several charity schools where I might find a position.”
“Ah, a charity school. Of course, that would be perfect for you, Miss Dunne. I’ve visited many of them myself, when I’ve been able, and the children are so pitiable.” A moue of compassion attempted to fix itself upon her mouth. “Perhaps I can assist in founding such a place in Finchingfield, if there is a need.”
The stupid pinch of jealousy returned. “You are also moving to Finchingfield?”
“Oh, I should not have stated it so plainly, but I believe I shall be.” She began to whisper conspiratorially,