In general, only a very strong conviction of being in the wrong would ever induce Georgiana Eveisley to apologize to anyone. She certainly did not feel any such conviction over her behaviour towards John Graham; in her view, it had been folly justified by his previous conduct towards her. But a graceful apology seemed to her the quickest way of putting them on the kind of terms that would forward her purpose. He could not be so churlish as to spurn her efforts to make amends.
She jumped out of bed and looked at the clock, surprised to see that it was only half past six. Sweeping back the curtain from the window, she looked out on a grey sky that was still streaked with the pink tints of dawn. Her resolution hardened. There was no time like the present; she would go and see Dr. Graham now, while no one else in the house was astir. She paused for a moment, wondering if he, too, would still be in bed, fast asleep; but finally decided that most likely doctors, like domestic servants, had to be up early in the morning.
She dressed carefully in a becoming lavender walking dress and a bonnet trimmed with ribbons of the same shade. Lavender, so she had been told, gave her a demure look — what could be better for making an apology, and helping to soften a hard heart? The servants were already busy at their work on the ground floor of the house, but she did not trouble them for any breakfast. One or two stared after her as she made her way to the front door, and the housemaid who was busy scrubbing the steps leapt up in a startled way when she appeared. Apart from the domestics, she met no one.
It was not far to the village; Georgy enjoyed the exercise on such a fine morning. She sniffed the crisp, clear air appreciatively as she walked between fields where cattle were grazing peacefully or where reapers were hard at work stooking the ripe com. She thought how beautiful the trees looked in their autumn dress of amber, gold and red. Trees were always beautiful; from their first green beginnings in the Spring to the time when they shook the last of the tawny leaves from their heads to stand stark and black against the sky, waiting for the softening touch of snow. She smiled to find her thoughts taking such a poetic turn. It was scarcely the occasion for it, she reminded herself.
The first barns and cottages came into view and before long she was walking along the main street of the village. Here everyone was stirring; housewives were shaking mats before their doors, a girl was driving a small flock of geese towards the village green, and the village butcher was sharpening a knife on the step of his shop. Nearly everyone looked up curiously as she passed, and most of them gave her good morning. She responded graciously to these greetings, and walked on with outward nonchalance, but mounting inward trepidation, towards Dr. Hume’s house.
It stood almost at the end of the street, close to the point where the main coach road skirted the village — Georgy's step slowed as she approached it, until she finally came to a halt outside, staring at the windows. All she gained from this was the sight of fresh, white dimity curtains, and a bowl of red and yellow chrysanthemums standing on one of the lower window sills. There was no sign of life.
She hesitated, nerving herself to open the gate and approach the house. It was surprising to discover that what had seemed such a simple thing to do when she had started on her walk, should prove so difficult at the end of it It was not only surprising; it was humiliating. She rated herself inwardly, but still lacked the courage to stretch her hand out to the latch of die gate.
Well, she could not stand here for ever; before long someone must notice her, and wonder why in the world she was dawdling at the doctor's gate. She turned away, and walked slowly on to the junction of the village street with the coach road. Two women were standing gossiping outside the gate of the end cottage, while a toddler played at their feet, scooping up handfuls of the brightly coloured leaves which lay on the ground. So intent were they on their gossip that they took no notice whatever of Georgy, much to her relief. She walked past them, turned into the main road, and then halted at a point where the end wall of the cottage shut her off from their view.
She would not abandon her plan, she told herself fiercely. She certainly had not dressed herself with such care and walked all this way at such an unseasonable hour of day, only to walk tamely back with her mission unaccomplished. She could never live with herself if she should weakly submit to such craven conduct The sound of a vehicle approaching at speed along the road to London beat out a hurried rhythm to her thoughts. She must return now — at once, With no more dallying — to Dr. Hume's house, and ring the bell.
She flung back her head with a proud gesture, and turned to retrace her steps.
At that moment, the London-bound Mail Coach came hurtling down the road in a flurry of wheels, hoofs and jingling harness, and a defiant blast from the guard’s horn. As it neared the road junction, a small toddler who had followed Georgy unheeded ran with unsteady steps right into its path.
Afterwards, Georgiana could never say with any certainty what followed. Every other thought dropped away from her but the one instinctive maternal urge to protect — she plunged after the child and scooped it up in her arms. It struggled, bawling loudly. Suddenly there was a hullabaloo all about her. The Mail Coach men shouted and swore as the driver strained every nerve to bring his horses to a standstill in time to avoid running down Georgiana and the child. The two women who had been gossiping as if nothing could stop them only a short while since, now stood whitefaced and screaming at the side of the road. The noise brought men from the fields, and people from their houses to the street, where they stood huddled together in frightened groups, watching.
In spite of all this noise, Georgy kept her head. Clutching the child with difficulty, for it struggled wildly to escape restraint, she ran as hard as she could out of the path of the oncoming vehicle. Her skirt caught under her foot She heard it tear, and plunged on, panting in her efforts to control the child. The skirt caught a second time — she tripped, recovered, then finally stumbled, measuring her length upon the ground. As she fell, she threw the child clear of the approaching danger.
With a loud screeching of brakes and a frightened whinnying of horses, the Mail Coach came to a standstill barely a foot from where Georgiana was lying, partly stunned by her fall.
After that, everything was even more confused. The child, unhurt save for a few bruises, was bellowing wildly. Its frightened mother gathered it to her bosom and began a hysterical wailing of her own. The passengers and guard dismounted from the Mail and formed a now rapidly growing crowd which gathered about her. Shouts, wails, a hubbub of voices — she shut her eyes tightly, and wished they would all go away.
‘What’s going on here? Make way!’
Dimly she recognized the voice of command that rang out above the hubbub, but she was too dazed to put a name to its owner. She heard the quick fire of questions from the same voice, and a babble of answers from members of the crowd. And then she was trying to sit up, and ready hands were helping her to her feet She stood swaying between two men when the crowd parted, and a figure stood before her that seemed familiar, but had a regrettable tendency to sway from side to side.
‘Good God, Miss Eversley!’ exclaimed the newcomer. ‘So it was you! Can you tell me how you are hurt?’
She shook her head. ‘I fell,’ she answered, simply.
His eyes went quickly to her right arm. There was a rent in her sleeve above the elbow, and blood was staining it.
‘We’ll see to that,’ he said, briskly. ‘No bones broken, I think, but we’d best make sure.’ After a pause, ‘All right, you two, I'll carry the lady to my surgery.’
Georgiana opened her lips to say that she was very well able to walk there on her own two feet, but the words seemed to involve too much effort. Something must have shown in her face, for he said, gently again: ‘You must forgive me, but it’s the best way. You’re as game as they come, but you’re feeling none too steady at present, are you?’
The men released her, and for the second time recently, he took her up in his arms. His manner was very different from what it
had been on that first occasion, however: now he handled her as if she were made of some fragile substance.
‘The lady is a game one, and no mistake, sir,’ said one of the men who had helped Georgy to her feet. ‘I saw her from the field yonder’ — he waved his hand in the direction of the road — ‘she rushed out into the road straight in front o’ the Mail after the little nipper, wi’ never a thought o' danger. And there’s some who’d a better call to do what she done, too, an' them not so far away at that, wi' their tongues aclacking, as usual!’ There was a murmur of approbation from the crowd, that swelled to a cheer as Graham moved through it with his burden towards Dr. Hume’s house.
Georgy raised her face to his. The mists were clearing from her mind, and now she felt a surge of anxiety.
‘The child!’ she exclaimed, distractedly. ‘Is it all right? Oh, pray see to it, and do not trouble with me!’ ‘Don’t concern yourself,’ he replied, in a soothing tone, as they reached the door, which was standing ajar. ‘Tve already taken a look at the child, and it’s sustained no hurt but a bruise and a scrape or two. No child bawls in that lusty way when it’s seriously injured.’
He broke off, to address his aunt and cousin, who were standing in the doorway with dismayed and anxious faces. ‘Don’t be alarmed — this lady isn’t much hurt Cousin Anne, I shall need your good offices. Some warm water, if you please, to the surgery. And I think perhaps, Aunt, a hot cup on tea might not come amiss. Now, Miss Eversley!’
He swept into the surgery with her, laying her gently down on a day-bed which was over by the window.
‘I think perhaps,’ he said, in the same quiet tone he had used to her from the moment he had taken her up in his arms, ‘we shall need to spoil this pretty gown by cutting the sleeve. Do you mind very much?’
Georgy was feeling much more steady now. She gave him a shaky smile. ‘Not a jot — it’s already quite ruined.’ She put up hands which trembled slightly, and discovered that her bonnet had fallen back from her head and was dangling by its strings. ‘What a sight I must look!’ she added, ruefully.
He ignored this, producing a pair of scissors and carefully cutting away the sleeve of her gown from the wound beneath. While he was doing this, Anne entered the room carrying a bowl of water which she set down close at hand. She then fetched some bandages and pots of ointment from a cupboard, and stood waiting patiently at Graham’s side while he examined the wound.
‘1 think you must have cut this on a jagged stone as you fell,’ he said. ‘It’s not too bad, though. Once we’ve cleaned it up, it should be quite satisfactory.’
‘I don’t call anything satisfactory,’ said Georgy, with an uncertain smile, ‘that makes such a prodigious mess!’
‘Soon take care of that,’ he assured her. ‘Now, this may hurt a little ‘
While he cleaned and bandaged the wound, Georgy covertly studied his assistant. She had not realized that Dr. Hume had a daughter, and an attractive one at that; but hearing Dr. Graham call the young lady cousin, she knew there could be no mistake. Miss Hume was small and dainty, with grave brown eyes and soft brown hair that framed an oval face. She moved without fuss or bustle, yet gave an impression of quiet efficiency that Georgy could see at once fitted very well in a sick room. Just such a girl would make an excellent wife for a doctor, Georgy found herself thinking; although it was unheard of for a gently-reared female to do any professional nursing, of course. Professional female nurses were not only rough and untutored as a general rule, but all too often gin-sodden into the bargain. Midwives in particular tended to be of the latter kind, and it was shocking to think of the numbers of fashionable women who still entrusted the delivery of their babies to such creatures. Thank goodness Hugh had more enlightened ideas, and had followed the Royal example in engaging a doctor to bring his and Susan’s children into the world. There had been many who had questioned his choice of a humble country doctor, though, and had wondered why he had not sought the services of one of the fashionable ‘man-midwives’, as doctors were called who specialized in confinement cases. But Dr. Hume had a sound reputation in that part of Buckinghamshire, and Susan preferred to pass most of her time in the country when she was pregnant. It was better, so Hugh had decided, to settle for someone who lived close at hand. His choice had been amply justified when their first child had been born, and now Susan awaited her second confinement with every confidence in Dr. Hume’s ministrations. All the same, reflected Georgy, it must be most useful for any doctor to have a quiet, efficient helpmeet such as Anne Hume at hand; one who could be relied upon to supply intelligent, skilful assistance when required, and yet would not be so sensitive that she would swoon at the mere sight of blood.
Her eyes travelled from Miss Hume’s face to Graham’s. He had almost finished now, and was about to secure the bandage. He was intent on what he was doing, his deft fingers moving with a practised skill, so he did not notice her scrutiny. His touch inspired confidence, thought Georgy; here was a man who not only knew what he was doing, but who also seemed to know that this was the only work he wanted to be doing in the world. A little ironical smile twisted her lips for a moment, giving her a fleeting resemblance to her brother Hugh. If the doctor had both a vocation for his work, and a female in view who would be willing and able to assist him in it, then no wonder he had found it easy to resist the charms of the so-called irresistible Georgiana Eversley. So much for her wager with Freddy. She had better call it off.
‘There, that’s finished,’ said Graham, straightening up and smiling down at her. ‘Now how do you feel, ma’am?’
She flashed an answering smile. ‘Splendidly, I thank you.’
‘Capital! Then I think we’ll transfer you to the parlour, where a hot drink is most likely waiting for you, by now. I’ll carry you there — with your permission.’
‘But I ought to be returning home,’ protested Georgy. ‘No one has the slightest notion where I may be. I slipped out before the others were astir.’
‘Would you like me to send someone with a message? You should rest here for a while, you know, until you are feeling more the thing. Then I’ll take you home in the gig — although most likely they’ll send a carriage for you from the Towers, if we let them know what has happened.’
‘No!’ exclaimed Georgy, remembering something. ‘If you send a message saying I am hurt, it may upset Susan. They won’t worry about my absence unduly — sometimes I go riding before breakfast’
‘What a strange mixture you are!’ he said, involuntarily. ‘You can think of Mrs. Eversley’s welfare at a time like this, when you are in some pain and discomfort yourself — and yet you never spared her a thought the other day, when you were entirely bent on your own pleasure!’
‘It is not at all the same thing!’ replied Georgy, with a flash of spirit. ‘And it is very ungallant of you to remind me of — of a past error! I think you may take me home at once. Thank you for your ministrations.’ She attempted to swing her legs off the couch on to the floor, but he stopped her, shaking his head.
‘You’re quite right, and I apologize,’ he said, with a smile that reached his dark eyes. ‘Come, we shall not quarrel at present — let me take you into the parlour to my aunt. Afterwards, we can decide whether or not to send a message to your brother.’
He bent to raise her gently in his arms, and she made no move to prevent him. As he carried her through the door which Anne held open for him, his eyes lingered for a moment on the tawny head which rested against his shoulder. A disconcertingly unprofessional feeling suddenly took hold of him. It showed in his eyes for a moment as he passed by his cousin. Anne Hume followed him into the parlour with a sinking heart.
CHAPTER 9
Two In A Gig
Although Georgiana would have been reluctant to admit it, she had been shaken by her recent experience; but she had an excellent constitution and soon felt completely herself again, apart from the dull ache of the wound in her arm. While she chatted easily to Mrs. Hume and her daughter over
a cup of tea, she began to debate inwardly whether or not to let Dr. Graham drive her home.
Her first thought on seeing him with Miss Hume had been to abandon the wager between herself and Freddy. It seemed all too likely that there must be some thought of marriage between the two cousins. But now she was not so sure. She studied them keenly but unobtrusively as she took part in the normal interchange of polite conversation; and after half an hour or so in their company she was ready to lay another wager, had there been anyone of a sporting turn handy to accept it. While Anne Hume gave many little evidences, unmistakable to a feminine eye, of a strong partiality towards her handsome cousin, Graham himself showed no obvious sign of reciprocating it. It was easy to see that he was fond of Anne. He treated her with a careless affection that to Georgy’s eyes had more of the brother than the lover about it. Possibly, thought Georgy, little Miss Hume was hoping that time would improve on this. She was an attractive female, and they were living under the same roof, constantly thrown together for company. Well; she could have him — that was to say, if she could get him — after Georgiana Eversley had done with him. He must first bow the knee before the Incomparable, the Toast of the Town.
Having made up her mind on this, Georgy shook her head when Graham asked her again if he should send a message to Fulmer Towers for someone to come and collect her.
‘If you can truly spare the time, I think I will accept your kind offer to convey me home yourself,’ she replied with a winning smile. ‘If Mrs. Eversley sees me well and strong before her eyes, she cannot worry; but a message saying that I’ve had an accident might frighten her out of her wits.’
‘As to the time, why, Fulmer Towers is on my way to a call I must make this morning.’ His face clouded for a moment. ‘The only thing is, we have no vehicle but the gig, and I fear you won’t find it too comfortable, with your arm as it is.’ He paused, considering. ‘Of course, I could walk the mare — it isn’t far — and then I shan’t crowd you.’
The Toast of the Town Page 7
