Virginia Heath - A Warriner To Tempt Her

And the spectacles.

Not that he wore them often, but when he did they made her mouth strangely dry. They magnified the cobalt irises of his eyes just a little bit, rendering them bluer still and more striking, and when he peered through them they served to magnify the power of his intelligence, too. Which was probably what Bella was drawn to. It couldn’t be anything else. It was only his scientific mind which drew her. His considered and reasoned logic. Even though she couldn’t stop staring at his lovely blue eyes. And perhaps the way his broad shoulders filled out his dark and sensible coat...

She was in the midst of pondering her odd thoughts concerning the good doctor when he strode in, looking quite splendid. In deference to the occasion, his normally plain black waistcoat had been replaced by one of blue silk, which did wonders for his eyes and made her gaze at the wide expanse of his chest for a second because the real her wanted to look and she couldn’t muster up the strength to argue.

He paused in the doorway, scanned the crowd, and Bella watched his eyes settle on her sister before he set his jaw. He watched Clarissa flirting with her harem of vying men for a few seconds, then he seemed to exhale—in defeat, disappointment, perhaps even irritation? Bella couldn’t tell but experienced the sting of it none the less, before he turned away and walked towards his family.

* * *

For over an hour she watched him surreptitiously. He had an easy way about him which she envied, clearly comfortable in his scholarly skin and enjoying the company of his boisterous family. When Bella accompanied her mother to the retiring room, she returned to see him dancing with one of his brothers’ wives. Bella had briefly been introduced to Mrs Cassie Warriner and had liked her immediately. She had not been introduced to her husband but had noticed his pronounced limp the first time she had seen him, so it stood to reason that particular Warriner did not dance, so his brother was standing in for him. Justifying why the doctor was dancing with a pretty woman—a pretty and obviously pregnant woman—made the fact he was dancing with one more palatable, not that Bella wanted to dance with him, of course. Dancing would mean touching and the very thought of that sent her into a panic. She never wanted to be touched again.

At the end of the dance she lost sight of him and was scanning the crowd for his dark head when he came up alongside. ‘I see your ankle is better.’

Instinctively, she jumped and took a step back even though he was not that close. ‘Yes, it is...although it’s not up to dancing.’ Why had she felt compelled to say that when he hadn’t asked her to?

Idiot. He dances so well, too. I miss dancing.

The voice inside was sighing. It was most disconcerting.

‘Tom is doing well.’ A safer topic and one Bella could manage without palpitations.

‘The inflammation is almost gone and there has been no sign of a raised temperature for a whole day now,’ she said.

‘I think we should keep him in the infirmary for at least another day. Little boys tend to pass on illnesses in the dormitories and we don’t want any more cases of quinsy if we can help it.’

We.

He kept referring to the patient as theirs, as if they shared the responsibility of his treatment, and that warmed her. He recognised her part in Tom’s recovery and her place in the infirmary. Recognised it and acknowledged it. ‘I shall check on him on Monday, and if he continues to make rapid progress, we can send him back to be with his friends.’

‘He’s very bored.’ Now that the crisis had passed, Tom wanted constant entertaining. She had read him every book on the little bookshelf. Some of them twice.

‘Excellent news. Bored is good. The very ill are rarely bored. They are too busy being ill. Only the well get bored.’

You’re bored, the voice inside her reminded her. Bored is good. He just said so. Do you remember when you were too terrified to be bored? What is that if not progress?

‘Dr Warriner!’ her mother interrupted a little too casually, with her father in tow. ‘You have not yet met my husband, have you?’

‘Your lordship.’ Joe bowed his dark head politely. ‘It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.’

‘I was curious to meet the man behind the infirmary my daughter is wedded to.’ Her father looked the doctor up and down, assessing his worthiness, and to Bella’s mind he did not approve of what he saw. ‘It seems I must thank you for coming to her rescue the other day. Bella speaks very highly of your skills as a physician.’

‘She does?’ Those fathomless blue eyes regarded her with amusement and she blushed crimson to the tips of her toes. Subtlety was never her father’s strong suit and he had rather given the impression she had been waxing lyrical, which perhaps she had once or twice when she regaled her day to her family over dinner. It was splendid to be doing something again. Especially something as useful and important as healing.

‘I’ve been telling my parents about Tom’s tonsils and...’ Perhaps it was better not to try to explain and simply brush it off, except she couldn’t muster the nonchalance to brush it off when he was still smiling at her, so she clamped her mouth shut instead.

Always so benevolent, Dr Warriner finished her sentence for her. ‘And I hope you have also told them how your swift intervention prevented him from going downhill. I was detained with another patient and your daughter single-handedly brought down the poor lad’s fever. By the time I arrived, the crisis had passed and he was already on the path to recovery.’

Both of her parents gaped at her. ‘You did?’

Once upon a time they would have expected her resourcefulness. It was a stark reminder of how far she had fallen in a year that they were both astounded and pathetically grateful to see some remnants of their old daughter return. It made Bella even more self-conscious than she was already. ‘I only brewed some willow bark tea.’

‘I fear I must contradict you there, my lady.’ Kind blue eyes were even more amused. ‘She sent to my surgery for a precise concoction of herbs to ease the child’s distressing symptoms. I was mightily impressed with her knowledge of medicine.’

Her mother was now completely beside herself with joy, reading far too much into a silly potion than the thing warranted. As if being able to remember a few herbs would somehow return her to her old self. Her father was positively scowling. How she wished they would all stop staring at her. ‘Bella has always had a very scientific mind. Had she been born male, I have no doubt she would have been the most dedicated and brilliant of scholars.’ Her father disapproved of her ‘hobby’ but had allowed it in Retford while she ‘convalesced’, even though he had decreed that daughters of earls were not supposed to get their hands dirty. He was, however, prepared to indulge her for the duration of the summer whilst she was out of sight in Retford to see if industry reaped better rewards than the water treatments and bloodletting.

‘If you’ll pardon me for saying it, sir, your daughter is a dedicated and brilliant scholar. Anyone who is familiar with the recent writings of Dr Laennec has a knowledge of medicine which exceeds that of the average layman.’ Things her father would be mortified to hear. Dr Warriner began to rifle in his coat pocket. ‘Which reminds me, I brought you this, Lady Isabella.’ He handed her a wooden stethoscope. ‘This was the original one I had made, but it is far too dainty for my enormous hands and I thought you might like it.’

Bella supposed most girls would melt if a man gave her flowers, but the exquisitely turned medical instrument was more beautiful to her than a bouquet of a thousand crimson roses. A funny little nerve jumped in her tummy and her heartbeat was so fast and so loud in her own head she doubted anyone would need a stethoscope to hear it. ‘I don’t know what to say... Thank you... I shall treasure it.’