In want of a wife (A Dr. Who fanfiction)

Chapter 3

The Doctor offered Rose his hand, which she took and held, as they strolled back towards the house. Understanding fully the impropriety of their intimacy, Rose could not keep herself from smiling and enjoying the coolness of his hold on her fingers. His ease with the situation astonished her. He did not seem to have any scruples against being so forthcoming and confidential. It made her wonder about what kind of man he really was. His accent sometimes betrayed him of not coming from one of the near counties. However Scotland's peerage had very similar rules of conduct and surely he was brought up with them. She endeavoured to ask of him all that came to mind, but in spite of his openness, she still had difficulty in expressing herself.

The Doctor, observing her struggle, therefore began himself by asking: "Are you an only child, Rose?"

Hearing her name uttered aloud, gave Rose such pleasure and comfort, that she instantly felt more at ease. She ventured with a readiness to answer that would have surprised her, had she been with any other, than this strange man. "No, I am not. I have a younger brother of seven."

"And pray tell, how old are you?"

Rose, on perceiving this question, could not withhold a giggle when thinking about the reaction her mother would have, would she know of their conversation.

"I am sorry, did I offend you?"

Rose blushed and replied: "Not at all. I am nineteen."

Before she could reciprocate, the Doctor had already stated his next question and Rose found he was very thorough in his examination of her. He questioned her about her friends, her family, her education and on clearing the woods and entering the sunny garden, Rose felt her throat to be quite hoarse.

She pondered on the thought of them entering the house and sitting by her father and mother, while enjoying some cool refreshments. Knowing however that her parents would not tolerate such infamous behaviour, there would be no more amiable conversing, and she was not yet ready to relinquish that.

"You told me earlier you have no great joy in the usual pursuits of young ladies of your class, perhaps you are willing to enlighten me as to what gives you pleasure?"

Most willing Rose was, however her sore throat made a remark somewhat difficult. She coughed a little, which gave the Doctor some concern and in discovering her need, he slapped himself, very ungentlemanly, on his forehead. He next busied himself in going through his pockets, making his companion a little curious as to what could possibly be brought forth by such a search, that would alleviate her thirst.

Great indeed was her astonishment, when he produced a cylindrical, metal tube, screwed the top off and handed it to her.

She held it in both hands, looking at it as if, when shaken, there would sprung snakes from it. Her face showed a look of pure uneasiness and the Doctor hurried himself in explaining the strange contraption.

"It is a Thermos, made to keep a cool drink cool and a warm drink warm. There is simply water inside. Forgive me, I should have foreseen your consternation."

On searching his face, Rose found no dishonesty, however there was a look of apprehension, as if he wanted to establish what her reaction was towards the unknown. Assuming he had no desire to poison her, she took a deep breath and placed her lips at the opening of the strange canteen. Cool liquid, the most fresh water she had ever tasted, gave such alleviation, such soothing remedy to her thirst, that she found herself incapable of not emptying the whole flask, before returning it to its owner.

The Doctor stood there, a grin of satisfaction adorning his mouth. His anticipation was met with a most rewarding attitude and his approval was noticeable in all his features.