The Jane Austen Society by Natalie Jenner Page 0,64
his, right? Oh, I am so sorry, Adeline—about the baby. So awful. You must be beside yourself.”
More than one downside of this recent hire by Dr. Gray was starting to quickly dawn on Adeline. “Yes, I’ve been a patient of his for a long time now. Although recently I have been thinking of making a change.” This was not altogether true, but Adeline’s mouth was sometimes faster than her thoughts, and she had learned to trust the gut instincts behind such outbursts.
“Oh, that’s too bad. I know Dr. Gray speaks so highly of you.”
The idea of Dr. Gray and Liberty Pascal discussing Adeline behind her back, whether about her health or otherwise, was making her suddenly and distinctly uncomfortable.
“I can tell I am going to like it here,” Liberty was energetically babbling on. “I had no idea it was so quaint. You never said, you cagey thing. Although you did choose to come back here to teach, so I guess that says something.”
“How is Dr. Gray?” Adeline asked as casually as possible. “I haven’t seen him since the Christmas Eve service for the village, in the little parish church.”
“Oh, I know the one. Adorable. We pass it on our way to see Mr. Knight. I was just there actually, giving him his bath. Sad old man, quite near the end. Starting to lose his wits, although he has no idea of course. Benjamin—I mean Dr. Gray—seems to be the only one that can manage him. The daughter looks pretty useless if you ask me.”
Adeline inwardly congratulated herself on remembering Liberty’s loose tongue and remarkable lack of discretion and told herself this was as good a reason as any to try to find a new doctor. She found it interesting that, as with Harriet Peckham, Dr. Gray persisted in hiring such outspoken and formidable women.
“Listen, Liberty, it’s actually a good thing we ran into each other. Would you be so kind as to let Dr. Gray know about my plans to make a change? Like I said, I’ve been meaning to tell him for a while now.”
“Of course, Adeline. Anything to help you out right now. Be well, okay, dear?” Liberty reached out and gave Adeline a big hug, then walked off in the opposite direction.
Adeline continued on her way home. Running into Liberty Pascal, of all people, had done nothing to improve her mood for the day, and she would be glad to get back to the solitude and privacy of her little house. She was not due to see Dr. Gray again for a few more weeks, when the Jane Austen Society was scheduled to have its second meeting. She was glad of that—Liberty would tell him Adeline’s plans shortly, and he might wonder about them, but hopefully this business would be all done and forgotten by the next time they met.
* * *
Adeline was crouching in her front garden a few hours later, digging up the ground to belatedly plant some tulip bulbs, clearing the dead fall brush to showcase her own little patches of snowdrops, when she heard the front oak gate swing open on its creaky, fallen hinges. She stood up to her full height as Dr. Gray approached.
He had an unusual look of concern on his face—he was usually good at hiding his feelings, so much so that she often found herself spending a large part of their time together just trying to make him crack.
“You are well?” he asked abruptly.
She leaned both hands on the old wooden handle of her shovel and looked directly at him in surprise. “Yes, tolerably. Are you?”
He started to pace about the garden path, which divided just before her into a long oval before resuming its redbrick march to her red front door. She was standing within the oval-shaped patch of ground, which was surrounded by a low box hedge that Samuel had planted for her as a wedding present less than a year ago.
Dr. Gray continued to pace about distractedly on the other side of the hedge, pulling dead twigs off some of the hawthorn bushes and then mindlessly throwing the sticks onto the ground.
“I see you’ve hired Liberty Pascal,” Adeline finally spoke up. “She’s an old classmate of mine, from college. A real force of nature, that one—she should have you whipped into shape in no time.”
“What on earth does that mean?” he asked with a jerk of his head.
“Nothing in particular. She’s just hard to resist. French lineage and all that.”