Carola Dunn by Christmas in the Country Read Free Book Online Page A

dripping ivy.
     Their eyes met again and they both laughed.
     “Need I remark that you are not seeing it at its best? We are nearly at the village. There’s the church tower.” He pointed with his riding crop.
     Cecily was glad to reach the village, to have something to take her mind from the alarming disorientation she felt whenever Dr Macfarlane looked at her. Or she at him.
     With the aid of the mounting block by the lych-gate, she descended from Shadow’s back, and they tied the horses to the iron railing around the church. Cecily quickly turned her back on the building where all too soon she would wed Lord Avon, since the Duchess’s disability ruled out a London wedding. Tomorrow, Christmas Day, she would have to attend the morning service there. For now—Sufficient unto the day was the...evil? No! It was a splendid match. Her parents were happy. His parents were happy. He was handsome, charming, amusing. She was the envy of every marriageable young lady in the kingdom.
     She did not glance back at the church where that enviable winter wedding would soon take place.
     The villagers Cecily and Dr Macfarlane met regarded her with as much interest as had Lord Avon’s family. No doubt half of them had gossiping relatives in service up at the mansion. With instinctive courtesy no one made any reference to her future connection with their landlord, or none but a child quickly hushed.
     The children adored Dr Iain, as everyone called him. He did not woo them with comfits, yet his patience, compassion, and willingness to listen won them over. Pleased to be able to help, Cecily held some of the young patients for him to examine while harried mothers kept their siblings out of the way or got on with preparing midday dinner for their fathers.
     Dr Iain had older patients here, too. The last of these, at the far end of the village street, was a rheumaticky old shepherd. He sat huddled under a rug by the fire, wrapped in a woollen shawl, a nightcap on his head.
     The grey-muzzled black-and-white dog at his feet raised its head when his daughter ushered in the doctor and Cecily. It gave them a mournful look and subsided again.
     “The poor beast do take it a’most hard as Pa that they can’t get out and about these days,” sighed the woman.
     “I’m changing that,” Dr Iain said decisively. “Sitting around coddling yourself isn’t helping, Johno, is it? I want you to start moving about as much as you can without severe pain. Take yourself over to the Pembroke Arms for a glass of cider on a fine day. Wrap up warmly, mind.”
     The old man brightened at once. “Down the Arms, Doctor? It’ll be good to see folkses again.” The dog licked his hand.
     “We’ll see how it goes, at least. And I’ve brought you a ginger and willow-bark mixture which seems to help her Grace.” He gave the woman instructions on preparing the medicine.
     Deeply gratified by the doctor’s readiness to try the remedy she had suggested, Cecily wondered whether Lord Avon would ever give any weight to her opinions. She could not even imagine a situation where she might venture to advise him.
     As they walked back down the village street towards the horses, the doctor said ruefully, “I ought not to offer two new remedies at one time. If he improves I shan’t know which is responsible. But I cannot bear to withhold anything which may make my patients more comfortable. There is so little I can do for most of them.”
     “You do all you can, I can see that. I do hope exercise will help him. Did you advise the Duchess to try it?” she asked diffidently.
     “Yes indeed.” He gave her a teasing smile. “I’m still waiting to hear how you reconcile it with the employment of a page. Or was that advice solely for Ben’s benefit?”
     “Only partly. Well, perhaps mostly! But if Ben does the little, necessary, everyday things for her, then she will be able to use what energy she has for pleasant things, like strolling in the