Rayne stepped out of Edwin’s comfortable and well-sprung carriage and stared at her father’s house. It was not her home growing up, since Father and her sisters had lived in the infirmary in town, much like she did now. Once Father retired, he bought this house and as far as Rayne knew, he rarely, if ever, left it.
The thatched stone-built cottage with rambling roses around the door was just the right size for a retired gentleman. Cozy and bright both inside and out, a lovely wooden rocking chair sat next to the front door.
Mrs. Johnson lived in a small room upstairs. Father also employed two young girls who came in each day to do cleaning, laundry, and other household chores. It was a pleasant life.
She realized she was stalling and forced herself to walk up to the front door. She was not looking forward to this conversation because she’d come to the decision that she did not want to marry Mr. Faulkner-Jones. Even if she and Edwin had not shared kisses, and nothing ever came from their friendship, she still would not want to marry her betrothed. She hadn’t chose him, barely knew the man, he seemed to be quite taken with himself, and she wanted more from a marriage than a husband who popped in and out of her life when it was convenient for him.
Reminding herself that she was a woman grown, a respected doctor, and owner of a medical practice, she could do this. Of course, she had rarely gone against Father’s wishes her entire life. Well, truth be known, she didn’t know of any time she’d gone against his wishes.
Both her sisters had married young and to hear them tell it, they had ‘escaped’ from the tyranny. There was no doubt that Father had favored Rayne over her sisters as they all grew up. Sometimes it made her feel good to have his undivided attention and other times she found his absolute interest smothering.
She dropped the knocker on the door and a young girl, dressed in a maid’s uniform opened. “Good afternoon, Dr. Stevens. I am Bessie and I am pleased to meet you.”
“Good day to you as well, Bessie. It’s a pleasure to meet you, as well.” Rayne stepped over the doorstep and pulled off her gloves. She handed them, along with her coat and hat to Bessie and then, smoothing out her dress headed toward the drawing room where she knew Father spent his time when not sleeping.
“Good afternoon, Father.” She walked to where he sat on a comfortable chair in front of the fireplace. She kissed his paper-thin cheek, thinking how much he’d aged since he’d retired.
One never expected one’s parent to age. To her, he was always the wise doctor, who knew what was best for his patients. And his children. He was tall, although not so much anymore. His deep red hair had turned gray and then white over the years. But his piercing blue eyes had not dimmed with age.
“It’s about time you showed up. I don’t like waiting, young lady. You know that.” He harrumphed as she kissed him.
“It is just now three o’clock.” She checked her timepiece pinned to the bodice of her blouse.
“I mean waiting for you to make time for your father. I expected you a few days ago.” He thumped the floor with his cane that was forever by his side. He would never tell her why he needed the cane since he didn’t seem to use it to walk.
At his words and tone, she immediately fell into the submissive girl who did everything possible to please her father. “I’m sorry Father, but one of my patients went into early labor. It turned out the reason was she delivered twins.” She smiled brightly. “Two lovely, healthy girls.”
He grunted. “Damned inconvenient if you ask me.”
After a few moments, she said, “Shall I send for tea?” She made to rise, but her father waved her back into her seat.
“I just had luncheon. No need for tea.”
It was a good thing Rayne had eaten the food she’d brought with her in the carriage, since as usual, Father was only concerned with his own needs. Then she pushed that disloyal thought from her head. Father had done so much for her she had no right to question him. She was a well-trained, respected doctor because her father had believed in her, and had pushed her to do her best.
“I thought Mr. Faulkner-Jones was to be here?” She looked around as if expecting the man to pop out from behind the sofa.
“He will be here shortly. I want to get all of this marriage business out of the way. Faulkner-Jones needs to return to his excavation and doesn’t have time to be dawdling around waiting on you.”
Rayne bit the inside of her cheek to keep from responding. After taking a calming breath, she said. “About that, Father. I don’t believe I want to marry Mr. Faulkner-Jones.”
He waved his hand in dismissal again. “Of course, you do. It’s been arranged for ages and it’s the best thing for you.”
Her heart pounded and she twisted her hands in her lap. “No, Father. I don’t believe it is the best thing for me. I don’t know Mr. Faulkner-Jones at all, and the one time he called on me in Bath he didn’t seem at all someone who I feel would suit.”
His face flushed and he pointed his finger at her. “Young lady, I’ve had to tell you since you were a girl what is best for you. It was quite disappointing when you were born, and your mother presented me with yet another girl.” He shook his head in disgust, as if his wife had purposely birthed only girls to annoy him.
Rayne stopped herself from rolling her eyes since she’d heard the story so many times before. Father was disappointed with a third girl. The story was the same, and the disappointment the same. Rayne oftentimes wondered if her mother had died shortly after her birth to avoid Father’s constant criticism.
“I know Father. I appreciate how much you’ve done for me. I am happy with my life and work. However, if I were to marry, I prefer to choose my own husband.”
He narrowed his eyes at her and had her squirming. “That degenerate, I’m thinking? Is he the one who’s caught your eye?”
Rayne drew herself up. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”
He thumped the floor once more. “Yes. You do. And don’t try to pull that innocent act with me. Mr. Faulkner-Jones has already visited and told me about Lord Sterling falling all over you when he visited.”
He glared at her. “I am no one’s fool, daughter. I had Lord Sterling investigated and it’s not good news.” He leaned back in his chair, his color returning to normal. “The man is no one you should be associating with. He is trouble. His young sister died under suspicious circumstances.”
“Surely you’re not suggesting that Lord Sterling had something to do with his sister’s death?”
“Why shouldn’t I suggest it? Shortly after she died, your Lord Sterling closed up his London house and moved to Bath where he proceeded to drink the city dry. He’s a carouser, a libertine, a rake, and unworthy of any woman’s attention. Especially my daughter.”
Rayne shifted in her seat. Disagreeing with her father was simply not done. He had always been larger than life to her, and the thought of going against his wishes and desires was not something she’d ever done before. But this she could not allow.
“Father, Lord Sterling is an honorable man, I can assure you. He stopped drinking once he became my patient. When he was sufficiently healed, he limped around the infirmary, helping me. He’s also taken over my books, so money is coming in again.”
Father leaned forward, glaring at her. “You can hire someone to do all that for you. And certainly, any man who is a member of the Upper Crust is not working at your infirmary out of the goodness of his heart. He is looking for something, and as your father, I am sure I know what that something is.”
She hoped her father assumed the flush rising from her middle to her face was from anger and not guilt. Although, at her age a couple of kisses was nothing to feel guilty about.
“You are wrong, Father. Lord Sterling has been nothing but a gentleman.”
He snorted.
“Dr. Stevens, Mr. Faulkner-Jones has arrived.” Bessie entered the drawing room, with Mr. Faulkner-Jones on her heels.
“Good to see you,” her father said. “Please have a seat and we’ll get this taken care of.”
Mr. Faulkner-Jones took the seat next to her on the sofa, and she edged away to allow more space between them. Now that she’d made up her mind that she didn’t want to marry him, she found him almost repulsive.
“Good afternoon, my dear,” he said as he took her hand. She smiled and slowly dragged it away. She tamped down the urge to wipe her palm on her skirt. “Good afternoon, Mr. Faulkner-Jones.”
He immediately switched his attention to Father. “I’m thinking a wedding date no more than two weeks hence, since I must get back to my team.” Her fiancé leaned back and rested his foot on his bent knee. “That will give me a few days of a honeymoon.”
“Yes. Yes.” Father nodded, all smiles. “I can arrange for the church here in town. If we are looking at only two weeks, we will need a special license. Are you able to procure one?”
Rayne’s head moved back and forth between Mr. Faulkner-Jones and Father, like she as watching a game of lawn tennis. “Just a minute, please.”
Both men looked at her as if they’d forgotten she was in the room.
“I do not wish to—”
Father cleared his throat and glared at her.
“—make the wedding so soon,” she finished lamely. She still had to convince Father that she and Mr. Faulkner-Jones were not well suited, and he was not someone to whom she could imagine herself married. And the marital bed? She shivered just thinking about it.
Perhaps if she could drag it out a little longer, she would be able to think of something to get her out of the entire mess. “I would need more time to ready myself. I have patients to attend to, and surely you realize I must find a proper dress, and—”
“—Three weeks at the most,” Mr. Faulkner-Jones interrupted. “That will eliminate a honeymoon, however.”
If she had her way, she would eliminate the wedding as well as the honeymoon. Or perhaps even the man. “That’s fine,” she blurted out.
That would give her three weeks to find a way out of it.
“My dear, I think it would be in our best interests to meet sometime soon to go over expectations.” Mr. Faulkner-Jones actually looked serious.
“Expectations?” She felt the flush starting up on her face again, but this time not from guilt but from the desire to beat Mr. Faulkner-Jones about the head with a heavy object.
“Yes. I have my work and you have yours. I won’t be in England very much so I must make sure you are taken care of during my absences.”
Rayne raised her brows at the man’s impertinence. “I have been ‘taking care’ of myself ever since my father retired and left me his medical practice. I do not need someone from miles away monitoring my every move.”
Silence settled over the three like a shroud.
“Be careful, girl.” Father murmured the words and she immediately mumbled, “I apologize.”
He smiled. “That’s a good girl.”
Yes. That was all she’d ever been. A ‘good girl.’ Always doing what Father wanted and living up to his expectations since she’d been such a disappointment to him at her birth.
And she’d been making up for it from the time she was old enough to understand. He’d bypassed her two sisters in his quest for someone to follow him into medicine. Both Natalie and Mary Beth had managed to marry young—men of their choosing—and moved as far away from their father as they could and not be criticized for abandoning him.
However, Rayne was of the opinion her father rarely remembered he had two other daughters. The women made their obligatory visits at Christmas and Father’s birthday, and then headed back to their happy and peaceful life. With their doting husbands and children.
Something she was unlikely to have if Father had his way and she married Mr. Faulkner-Jones. No doting husband, no warm, comfortable home, no children to raise and nurture. She would be a married woman with all the shackles and none of the benefits.
Father and Mr. Faulkner-Jones got into a discussion about her betrothed’s work, and soon acted as though she wasn’t even present anymore. She glanced at her timepiece and cleared her throat to gain their attention.
Father looked over at her. “Yes?”
“I believe it is time for me to leave. I have patients I need to visit.” She slowly climbed to her feet.
Mr. Faulkner-Jones hopped up and took her hand again. “My dear, I will call for you Wednesday evening at six o’clock. I will make a reservation for dinner. We can discuss whatever matters are troubling you at that time.” Her fiancé smiled at her in such a way that she expected him to pat her on the head. Then he turned back to her father and they continued their discussion.
He dismissed her!
Rayne hesitated, completely ignored by the two men. “Father?”
He looked annoyed as he held his finger up to Mr. Faulkner-Jones, a signal to pause for a moment. “Yes?”
She took a deep breath. This visit did not go the way she had wanted it to, and she would not be denied her opportunity to discuss this further with him. “I request another visit within the next few days. There are things I do wish to discuss—” she looked over at Mr. Faulkner-Jones, then back to her father, “—that we have not settled on yet.”
Father leaned back in his chair and regarded her. He tapped his fingertip on the arm of the chair where he sat. It was obvious he was not pleased, but she needed to convince him that this wedding was not what she wanted. She’d spent almost her entire life doing what he wanted, but in this she preferred to hold firm to her decision that she and Mr. Faulkner-Jones did not suit.
They didn’t suit, she didn’t care for him, she doubted if the man even knew her first name—or cared—and she had to make Father understand she was no longer a little girl who did everything he ordered her to do.
And then there was Edwin.
She could certainly picture marriage with him. Imagine sharing his bed and bearing his children. Of a life filled with fun and laughter, the cozy home she’d always wanted before her desire for medicine had become her focus. There was no reason she couldn’t do both.
Heavy in thought, she left her father’s presence, took her things from Bessie, and made her way down the steps to Lord Sterling’s carriage. Once she was settled in, and the coach began the trek home she thought of only one thing.
If she could not persuade Father to understand how much she did not want to marry Mr. Faulkner-Jones, was she prepared to defy him for the first time in her life?