O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,181

“Where would you rather be hushed? Here or here?” She pointed to her head and then back to her heart.

Gus took in a long breath as he digested her words. “You’re very wise for such a young girl.”

Miss Tia snorted. “Or you’re not as clever as you think!”

“Tia!” But Etta’s reprimand held no irritation.

“It’s fine. My grandmother’s mantra was, ‘Open your mind and let your heart speak.’ I think she would have understood Miss Tia very well.”

Chapter Six

An hour later, Tia yawned. It had been a long and wonderful day. As Etta rose to accompany her sister, Dr. Wharren asked her to stay. “Could we talk for a bit?”

Etta nodded, hugged Tia, then sat back down. Her eyes narrowed, casting a warning glare over the physician’s shoulder. He turned to look and saw Tia’s impish grin as she pointed up at the mistletoe. He nodded and winked. With a laugh, the girl scampered up the stairs.

“I hope you’ve been comfortable during your visit?” he asked.

She nodded, curious at his request to see her alone but glad to have an opportunity to become better acquainted with this handsome man. “You may not believe me, but since my blubbering yesterday morning, my heart has been light. As if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.” She smiled. “Thank you.”

“And I’ve been oddly lighthearted after I came across you two nights ago. I believe you’re a boon to this old place.” He paused, as if struggling to find the words. “I returned home because I was disillusioned. Doctoring the wealthy filled my pocket, but the misfortunate who truly needed me soothed my soul.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I don’t deal well with death. And there is so much of it in the slums.” He let out a defeated sigh. “So, I’ve come home to rethink my future.”

“So, Dr. Wharren, did you leave behind a trail of broken hearts?” Etta’s tone was light, but her gaze intent. Why was she holding her breath? “I’m surprised you are not married.”

“I could ask the same of you. But please, call me Gus.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I had a fiancée five or six years ago, but we didn’t agree on my direction. She preferred the manicured gardens of my wealthy clients. When I extended my services to the rookeries several days a week, she asked to be released from the betrothal.”

“I’m sorry she didn’t appreciate your integrity.” She laid her hand atop his. “Perhaps it was better than a marriage full of conflict.”

Gus nodded. “And how could such a lovely woman as yourself not have men lined up with proposals?” He placed his other hand over hers. “I think you are one of the loveliest women I’ve ever met, inside and out.”

She blushed, remembering their kiss. “Our mother died giving birth to Tia. At ten, scarlet fever left her with a profound hearing loss. My father thought it best to keep her hidden away on our northern estate.”

“People are afraid of what they don’t understand or what is different.” He rubbed his jaw. “I didn’t realize it’s only been a few years. That explains her speech. Did your father bring her to any specialists? Perhaps her hearing could be restored.”

Etta shook her head. “He trusted our country doctor who said it was permanent. She can hear very shrill noises and some birdsong. She used to sit out under an oak, waiting for one to sing for her.”

“Are you afraid to leave your sister? Is that why you haven’t married?” His tone was gentle, caring. “To take care of her?”

“Papa promised me a Season each year at Christmastide since I was seventeen, but it never came to fruition.” Etta took in a long breath, acutely aware of his touch, and leaned back against the chintz cushion. “And you’re correct. I couldn’t have left Tia. Now I’m glad that I didn’t. We only have each other now.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, lost in their own thoughts, and gazed at the crackling fire.

“It seems the past two days have been filled with fortunate coincidences,” Gus began. His eyes searched her face as he told her about the letter from his colleague and the York Asylum. “I have to admit, after your story, I’m inclined to accept his offer.”

Etta’s hand went to her throat. “To think my sister might have been one of the patients you found there. It’s frightening.” She studied his handsome profile, the elegant yet capable hands that rested