Thank you for following! along at home, and the comments! Here is your next installation.

# # #

Chapter 3

Mrs. Kitchen, with her grey hair pinned up in a no-nonsense style, had a girlish grin on her usually care-worn face. "Thank you again for coming to see me, dear," and winked at Julia.

Julia grinned back, happy to see that her patient was at least physically recovering from her most recent ordeal. She worried a bit about the older woman's mind considering her age and other health complaints, but Beatrice Kitchen was a sweet soul and making a house-call on her was no trouble, not really. Although that is not the way Mrs. Kitchen saw it, apparently.

"Please give my best to Doctor Ogden, bless his soul. I remember what it was like when you helped me care for Arthur at the end, God rest him. And I will take your advice…that is if you take mine!" Mrs. Kitchen took every chance to extol the virtues of marriage, not able to accept the notion of a woman without a man to care for her. She and her nurse laughed as they descended the stairs to the Inn's common room.

Julia's smile vanished quickly to be replaced with a blush when she saw William Murdoch still loitering near the service bar. Messrs. Crabtree and Brackenreid were nowhere to be found. Probably trying to be discrete, she thought, dear men that they are. Julia grumbled to herself. Between them and Mrs. Kitchen playing at matchmaker…this is impossible! William was shifting almost imperceptibly from foot to foot, and looked up at her from under his thick lashes. Julia set her heavy bag at the bottom of the stairs, sighed and headed over to him, not sure how to take advantage of the opportunity.

Mrs. Kitchen observed the interaction. "Mr. Murdoch, Nurse Ogden, why don't I get some tea and biscuits for you. And I'll send some over to your students in the dining room to fortify them for the trek home in this weather. Besides, I never met a young man who wasn't always hungry, have you? It will take me only a few minutes. I'll put your bag over here, dear, out of the way," she said before she waved cheerily and bustled off to the rear of the establishment, leaving William and Julia as alone as two people could be when there were a dozen others milling about.

The awkward silence between them lengthened, and when it built up uncomfortably enough, they both started talking at once. "How was?..." "Did you…?" Eventually giving up on small talk, William asked Julia to go back up to the third floor and check in on Marguerite, to satisfy himself that she was going to be fine since he was still disturbed by her earlier behaviors and appearance. Julia readily agreed, while chastising herself for failing to make use of the opening to interact with William. She found her bag and went to see the girl and was back down in the common room just as the tea and biscuits arrived. William called the students over to retrieve their portions from Mrs. Kitchen's tray, before listening to Julia's report.

"Nurse Ogden, what is your opinion?" he asked, rather formally.

"Well, I believe Miss Brown will be all right. She is definitely sick – although I have no idea exactly what is making her so. It could be the flu, or more likely something she ate or drank. She will not divulge it to me." Julia leaned in. "Perhaps she was at a party? Or took a patented medicine? In any event, her heart rate and respirations are slowed a bit and she has stopped vomiting. By tomorrow she should be on the mend." Julia was about to add details, when she noticed Jack Brown balancing his plate on top of his tea mug and trying to move off without spilling any of it. "Mr. Brown, your sister insists that she wants to talk with you and Mr. Murdoch and that it is very important. But she is resting now, so perhaps later tonight or tomorrow when she is feeling better?"

He answered with a "Yes, Ma'am," before joining his school mates, who were wolfing down their treat.

William offered his thanks, and temporized for a moment on whether or not he wanted to ask her advice about dealing with Marguerite and the other students. He decided that speaking with his wards at a later time was more appropriate.

Mrs. Kitchen, who had been watching all this quite closely, announced she was going to go heat up some soup and disappeared again.

William and Julia both involuntarily cringed and then shared a conspiratorial grin when they noticed their similar reactions. "I do hope it is soup that Mrs. Crabtree made…" Julia whispered.

"Er…quite. Mrs. Kitchen, while a lovely woman, is rather inept when it comes to food. When I lived as her boarder it was certainly easier to maintain my waistline…" William said back, and then regretted the admission as being unkind as well as inappropriate. "That is not to say…"

"It's all right. I recall her cooking as well. It's really not her fault, but I think her sense of taste and smell are going... er, even more. While Mr. Crabtree is away, you will look after her, won't you? I worry about her condition…." Julia smiled nervously again, and looked at him, lowering her voice. "It is agreeable to see you. I was hoping to wish you a Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you as well." He stalled, tongue-tied once again. How does one ask a widow, no matter how many years one has known the lady, if she is open to a social engagement only five months since her husband's death? he thought.

At that moment Jack and his friends intruded, asking permission to go upstairs to visit in the room Jack was going to be sleeping in, and see the new plumbing that had just been installed. As William had been involved in the process of designing the system for the Inn with Brackenreid, making a few improvements in fact, he acknowledged to himself he was vulnerable to the sin of pride. He gave in to the request, with the admonishment to be brief as the weather was not stable and they needed to be back at school on time.

Permission granted with a suggestion from their teacher to consider the hydrodynamics associated with water flow through piping, the boys bounded up the stairs, glad to be free of adult scrutiny. It was also a relief to William not to be observed by his pupils, as these lads were among the brightest in the school. He held his reputation as sacrosanct; he was not about to become the subject of school gossip, certainly not if he could help it.

Returning to his attention to Julia, William noticed the weary lines in her face, and immediately thought better of importuning her to socialize, as that would likely add to her stress and not alleviate it. His thoughts turned to the small gift he prepared for her, nestled in coloured paper up in his room. It was a wooden box he made to hold some of her art supplies, and he almost excused himself to retrieve it, then thought the better of that impulse too and closed it down. Ridiculous! he complained to himself. Instead he quietly asked, "How are you holding up?"

She moved forward to answer, "Well…" but she was interrupted by Crabtree swinging behind the bar to pull another couple of pints for his dwindling number of patrons. The Brackenreids also came over to bid adieu. By the time everyone said their goodbyes, the thread of conversation between Julia and William collapsed again.

"Will you stay for soup?" was all William could think to say, feeling inane to ask. He was surprised she agreed, considering they did not know the meal's origins. "Er...good, very good. Well... good." He was embarrassed at his babbling, stopped himself and cleared his throat. "Let me go see where my students are." He ushered her to a table in the dining room before rounding to the stairs and ascending.

Julia pursed her lips briefly and checked her watch. Her father's housekeeper, Mrs. Hastings, was spending the holiday with them this year and would be at the house to watch over things; by this time the housekeeper was much of an expert as anyone in managing her father's illness, so would be able to cope if Julia took a little extra time getting home. She thought that perhaps once the boarding students and patrons cleared off she could figure out how to spend a few moments in pleasant, distracting conversation with a stimulating companion before going back to her daily round of boring work and vexation. It might make up for not getting to her one weekly pleasure—her sketching class tonight, cancelled now due to the storm.

# # #