Isabel strode to the other side of the room and turned to face him, her dismay turning to anger. “Yes, but now you arepoor. I do think you engaged me under false pretenses, for you had practically assured my father that this inheritance was to be yours. You showed him a copy of the will.”
Yes, he had done so. For the rest of James’s life, he would never allow himself to forget that he could be capable of great foolishness. He had proof of it in that moment of madness, which she had thrown back at him. However, foolishness could be remedied; one had only to choose a different path. He brought his gaze to her; he would choose a different path now. Would she?
“You do have the option to break off the engagement,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to go through with the marriage if it is distasteful to you. I will release you from the promise, if you wish for it.”
“But then what will everyone say of me?” she shot back, her brows lowered. “It will be embarrassing. Everyone will be talking of it.”
“The choice is yours, though. If you would like to end the betrothal, I will do everything in my power to keep your reputation intact.”
Isabel frowned and bit her lip, and he could see her calculating.It would not be difficult for her to say no, and then he would be free.Free to pursue Amy.For the first time he dared to imagine marrying Amy and making his life with her. Amy, who was kind and steady andloyal, who was faithful and forgiving. Amy, who made his heart beat in a way no other woman ever had.
Isabel looked up, her mouth pinched. “Impossible.” She shook her head. “I cannot bear the scandal. I will not break off the engagement, and you had better not think of it either.”
The words came to James in a fog; his mind refused to believe it. She clung to him still!
At once, his future darkened. The brief hope he’d had that something good would happen at last slid into the chasm that gaped before him and disappeared. She would not cry off. He shook his head, swallowing his disappointment. There was nothing left, no other feeling than his eagerness to be gone.
“As you wish. I will bid you good day, then.” He bowed curtly and turned to go.
Chapter 21
The inauguration of the Tonnelet baths occurred without pomp. There were precisely two visitors willing to try it. The first was an enthusiastic Mr. Rosemund, who raved over the pleasure of having his first hot chalybeate bath. He had declared himself very pleased for his part, especially since he no longer had to deal with fragments of tripe or vegetable peels floating by. He promised to share his enthusiasm with all who listened, but he was not Spa’s most distinguished visitor and his praise would not bring James the patients he needed. James’s spirits had not recovered from his dismal meeting with Isabel, and he attempted to greet Mr. Rosemund’s enthusiasm with an expression that was not quite so morose.
The second patient was a skeptical Mr. Bridwell. James helped him into the baths himself, then went into the receiving room to give Mr. Bridwell some privacy and wait for more patients that would not come. When the prescribed time had elapsed, he indicated for the servant to assist the patient into his clothes, then invited him to sit so he might take his pulse.
James tested Mr. Bridwell’s flexibility and his level of comfort and was satisfied.
“It might have helped,” Mr. Bridwell admitted. He turned a clear-eyed gaze to James, his brows knit in reflection. “I thinkthis should be attempted with a tuning fork to harmonize the waters and align their vibrations. Do you not agree? Otherwise, the minerals will merely float in chaos.”
James had no ready reply, and Mr. Bridwell seemed to accept his silence for agreement, for he added, “Do you think I should use my brass or silver tuning fork?”
James swallowed and decided on the one less likely to be ruined by the experiment. “Perhaps the silver fork would be better for this water. Although you must expect some cosmetic change to the metal.”
“Of course.” Mr. Bridwell beamed. “Then I will know it is working.”
“Yes.” James stared for a moment, hesitating. He wished he could ask him about Amy—ask whether Mr. Bridwell knew he had once courted his daughter. But what good would it do? In the end, he mustered a smile and wished Mr. Bridwell a good day as his servant came to help him into the carriage.
When no more bathers arrived to test the waters, James decided to return to his rooms. He had hired one of the rigs before the early excursion to the Sauvenière, which meant he would be walking home.
As he followed the road down the hill, his mind was heavy with preoccupations. It was not that he had truly expected the baths to be an instant success, but receiving only two patients on opening day seemed to augur badly for his project. At least the two patients he did have seemed to have found the baths beneficial, but neither were well-known or likely to bring in more prestigious clients.
How would he make ends meet? He had lost his inheritance and would have to subsist entirely on his living as a physician. And not even the loss of his inheritance had freed him from a betrothal he was now certain would bring him a lifetime of misery. A bird did not change her feathers, and Isabel had shown hers clearly enough. Now he had an expensive wife and no income.
The path leading to town was treelined and broad, and he sawthe tops of the iron gates of Waux-Hall well before he reached it. He thought of his apology to Amy when they had visited the site together. It had not precisely changed anything. In fact, it seemed to have increased the tension between them because it dredged up memories impossible to resolve. Their past should not bother him, for their lives had joined together again briefly only to separate, and this time forever. But it did bother him. He couldn’t bear for their memories of each other to be anything but the good moments they had once shared.
As he drew near the Pouhon source in the center of town, he caught sight of Amy coming in his direction. He ducked into a narrow side street to avoid her and began walking toward the Hôtel d’Irlande. He would take a different route to his inn, for he was not able to face her. His heart couldn’t take any more torture. James was lost in these somber thoughts when someone stepped into his path, forcing him to look up.
“James, you are with your head in the clouds,” Mr. Vroomen said, smiling.
“You are very right.” He attempted a smile. “I have had my inauguration of the baths today, and I received all of two visitors.”
Mr. Vroomen gave him a sympathetic look. “There will be more,” he assured him. “In the meantime, we must visit my patients together next week or divide them up, for Mrs. Vroomen and I are not to leave after all. My wife has sprained her foot and cannot travel.”
“I am sorry to hear that.” James was indeed chagrined for Mrs. Vroomen, whom he liked very well. He could also not help but regret the loss of income from taking over his mentor’s patients while he was away.
As though he could read his mind, Mr. Vroomen added, “You are a fully practicing physician and do not need my mentoring. I will share the doctor’s fee with you for the time I had expected to absent myself.”
“That is very good of you,” James said. It might be the only thing to keep him from drowning in debt.
