by Sandra Heath
She stared at the ball as it rolled in the dish. It was so very small, and yet it had caused so much pain, brought death so very close….
“I must credit Nicholas with great courage, Laura, for he must have been in far more pain than I guessed. The wound was still clean, however, and I think there is no danger now of him losing the arm. With God’s will, he can only begin to recover from now on.”
“And the sweet vitriol?”
“Worked as I said it would. I must be honest, Laura, I do not think he would have survived that operation without it.”
“How can I ever thank you?” she whispered, blinking back the tears of relief.
“You have nothing to thank me for,” he said, a little more curtly than he intended, for he could recall only too clearly those fleeting thoughts that had passed through his mind before he had commenced the surgery. He felt very tired suddenly, drained by his own emotions and by the sheer intricacy and novelty of the operation he had just completed. He went to where the decanter of cognac stood, pouring himself a large glass and draining it swiftly, not pausing to savor the bouquet. The fiery liquid warmed him. He smiled at her. “Forgive me, I did not mean to snap at you.”
“You must be exhausted, it is more fitting that I should be asking you for forgiveness for not thinking of the strain you have been under. I thought only of myself and of Nicholas.”
“One does not expect the anxious relative to think of the doctor. Besides, the strain was of my own making. I chose to experiment with sweet vitriol.”
“And your theory is more than vindicated.”
He nodded. “But for all that, it will not be made public.”
She was astonished. “Why ever not? You have discovered something which kills pain and enables an operation to be carried out without any distress to the patient.”
“Pain is necessary, pain is God-given and it is our duty to suffer it.”
“Those aren’t your words, Daniel.”
“No, they are not, but they are words which were spoken to me when I was foolish enough to take my theory to a senior and famous surgeon in London. His reaction was typical. Medical science appears to be more concerned with moving swiftly from the beginning to the end of an operation than with attempting to make that operation more safe, and it is certainly not ready for my dastardly innovation. Maybe the time will come soon; I pray that it does, but I will not risk what reputation I have again.”
“Oh, Daniel—”
“Man is a stubborn beast.” He poured himself another cognac, swirling the liquid for a moment. “But maybe the American beast is more enterprising.”
“American?”
“Our former colony showed great insight by striking free of us, Laura, and it is my belief that my future lies across the Atlantic. I have had an offer, a most interesting one, from the man who once taught me what I know. He lives in New York now and he wants me to become his partner.”
“Will you?”
His dark eyes rested briefly on her face. “I don’t know.” I was sure until you came into my life…. He flung himself wearily into a chair, lounging back with one long leg swinging over the arm. He rested his head back. “I am tired and yet am still screwed up to such a pitch that I know I will not sleep.”
“Shall I sit with you?”
“I know full well that you wish to fly to Nicholas’s side. Besides, I am poor company tonight, and am therefore best left by myself to contemplate the ironies of life.”
“I do not think you could ever be poor company.”
He smiled. “That shows how little you know me. I am capable of being decidedly dull. Good night, Laura.”
“Good night.”
Her skirts rustled a little as she left him. He drank the cognac, and then with a deep breath discarded the glass. That must be the last, for the mood that now seized him would see the emptying of the decanter and the commencement of another.
“Daniel, my laddo,” he murmured to himself, “the sooner you quit this house, the better it will be for your peace of mind.”
* * *
Henderson had fallen asleep in the chair beside Nicholas’s bed, and he did not awaken as Laura entered the room. A solitary candle illuminated the bed where Nicholas lay in a calm, deep sleep. She could hear the rain falling outside, and the smell of honeysuckle was stronger than ever as the rain bruised the delicate yellow-gold flowers which now and then caught the feeble light as the night wind swayed them by the window.
Nicholas lay quietly, his breathing soft and regular, and she knew that the blinding pain had gone. She bent to put her lips over his, lingering over the kiss. “God speed your recovery, my darling,” she whispered.
* * *
Kitty waited in her mistress’s room. The maid’s hands were clasped nervously in her lap, for she had decided that she must tell Laura about the rumors that were circulating about her and Doctor Tregarron. But as Laura at last entered the room it was immediately clear that now was not the time for such unwelcome revelations.
For Laura, this important and harrowing day was almost at an end, and throughout she had remained as taut as a bowstring, but now the many conflicting emotions were perilously close to the surface. Slowly she went to the dressing table and sat down, her head bowed. The tears stung her eyes and her lips quivered as she tried not to cry, but her whole body was shaking now….
Kitty stared at her in dismay. “My lady?”
Blindly Laura put out a hand to the maid, who immediately hurried to her. “Oh, Kitty,” she whispered, her voice broken, “I love him so much. If he dies I think I will die too, for I will not want to live without him….”
The maid’s own eyes filled with tears as she put her arms hesitantly around her sobbing mistress. Laura wept away the pent-up emotions of the day, but nothing could wash away the heartbreak her love for Nicholas had brought her.
Chapter 24
The ravages of a night spent weeping were only too evident in Laura’s tear-marked eyes the following morning, and she did not feel able to face the household in such a sad condition. Anxious to learn how Nicholas progressed, she immediately sent Kitty to inquire, and Daniel sent back the reassuring word that his condition had not deteriorated and that he slept for most of the night, which was the best possible tonic.
Laura sat on the window ledge of her room, clasping her knees as she gazed out over the rain-swept park. Low clouds scudded dismally over the gray skies and the trees swayed wildly as the wind gusted over the escarpment. The hounds were disturbed by the change in the weather, and even though the window was closed, she could hear their noise from the kennels. Thoughts of the hounds brought her inevitably to the document she and Nicholas had put their names to the night before. She had his authority to act for him and she would not fail him. Maybe she was a makeshift wife, a temporary bride whose unconsummated marriage would soon be discarded, but for the time being she was still Lady Grenville of King’s Cliff, and she would play her part to the best of her ability.
By the early evening she felt up to leaving her room. The judicious application of powder had done something to disguise the effects of her tears, but nothing could completely mask the reddened rims and dark shadows of her eyes. She looked lovely, wearing her blue silk gown, her Kasmir shawl draped lightly over her arms, but an air of sadness surrounded her even though she smiled at Daniel as she entered the library.
He saw immediately that she had been crying and he knew that it could only be because of her love for Nicholas Grenville. Had he not loved her so very much himself, he would have attempted to ease her heartbreak by telling her he believed Nicholas to have an affection for her, but to do that would be to risk bringing husband and wife together, and that was something Daniel had no wish to see happen. He had never loved as he loved now, never desired anyone as fiercely as he desired this one woman, and it was this that drove him now. Winning her from Nicholas was all that mattered, and the fact that Nicholas was his oldest friend was immaterial—as was the fact that h
e suspected Nicholas to hold her in a far greater regard than she herself could ever imagine. The ends justified the means, and so Daniel remained silent, determined to press his own suit as and when the time seemed appropriate. But the time was not appropriate just yet, not when the tears were still so fresh.
He smiled at her, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. “You look very beautiful tonight, Laura.”
“And you are as chivalrous as ever, sir,” she replied.
“I am also a little remiss, for I did not think you would join me this evening and have therefore ordered only a cold supper.”
“I have little appetite anyway.”
“You must look after your own health, Laura.”
“Oh, I will probably eat like the proverbial horse once I know that he is better.”
“I am well pleased with his progress thus far. His temperature remains steady, and is only a little too high. His pulse is regular, and his sleep not at all restless. The dressing I removed this evening was more than satisfactory, and all in all I cannot see anything to cause me too much concern. He will be weak for some time, of course, and must therefore be prevailed upon to remain in bed, and I still advise against worrying him unduly with anything pertaining to the estate. He received last night’s tidings well, but only, I believe, because you were able to immediately reassure him that the matter could be attended to. It would not be wise to assume that another occasion would go as well.”
“Of course not.”
“Actually, I am more concerned now with the malaria.”
“But surely it has gone!”
“It is merely in abeyance. There is always the possibility of its return, for such is the nature of the disease. However, when I leave in the morning, I will see to it that you have an adequate supply of the bark in case it is needed.”
“Leave?”
“I think I must, Laura, for I have a great many other patients who need my attention, and my medicines and books are at my own house.”
“Of course, I had not thought. It will not be the same here without you, though.”
“Ah,” he said theatrically, “she will miss me. By my troth, she hath made me a happy man.”
She laughed. “I will miss you, that is true enough.”
“For my engaging personality, or because I will leave you alone to face the rat and the cats?”
“That is an unfair question, but I will answer it. Now that I have Nicholas’s authority to overrule them, I do not particularly fear them. So that must mean that I will miss you for your engaging personality, sir.”
“That is a sweet salve for my pride.”
“It was very good of you to stay here as long as you have, Daniel. Thank you.”
His dark eyes swept her face for a moment. “It was no hardship to enjoy your company, Laura.” The atmosphere changed subtly.
She was aware of him again, and she moved away a little, glancing out of the window at the stormy evening. It was early, but already the candles had been lit. “Do—do you think Mr. Dodswell will return tonight?”
“Possibly. But it will be an arduous journey and he is not in the first flush of youth. I think it more likely that tomorrow will see his return; after all he has to go to Flaxton’s, then to the moneylender’s fellow, who I understand lodges in Taunton. And then he has to return here.”
“Yes, you are probably right. Oh, I do hope everything goes well, Daniel.”
“There is no reason why it should not.”
“No.”
Hawkins brought the cold supper, placing an elegant tray on the table. He inquired if she wished him to bring something for her too, but there was already more than enough provided, and Daniel remarked that it would appear the King’s Cliff cook believed him to be in need of considerable nourishment!
The cold roast beef was particularly succulent, and the bread still warm from the oven. Daniel poured her a glass of the red wine, and she sat back in her chair, sipping the wine and thinking. “Daniel, how should I go about selling the hounds? And the land Mr. Dodswell has listed?”
“Christie’s.”
“The auctioneers?”
“There is no better way of selling, and no better way of reaching the beau monde. Notices of such an auction would appear in all the publications, and therefore a great deal of attention would be focused on King’s Cliff.”
“There will be a fuss, won’t there? I mean, when fashionable society learns what is to take place here. At the moment only this neighborhood is really aware, and already they condemn the changes out of hand….” Somehow the thought of the highest circles learning of Nicholas’s plans was not a pleasant one.
He put down his napkin. “Did Nicholas seem perturbed at the thought of high society when he told you of his plans?”
“No.”
“Then why should you be?”
She smiled. “No adequate reason, I suppose. I think I am merely of a cowardly disposition.”
“As we all are, Laura. The trick is in masking the fact.” He smiled then. “Present a confident face to the world and it will not succeed in harming you.”
“Is that your philosophy?”
“One of them.”
“How many do you have?”
“Enough to suit each situation.”
“How very enterprising.”
He picked up his glass. “It is strange you should apply that word to me, for it is the same one used by my friend in America.”
“You have decided to go there?”
He shrugged slightly. “Possibly. There are pros and cons. However, I do not need to decide that just yet. I must await another letter from New York and then I will know exactly when he would like me to go there. Until then I shall remain undecided—one day remaining in this green and pleasant land, the next determined to go to the land of fortune.”
“If you go, America’s gain will certainly be England’s loss, Daniel.”
He lowered his eyes to his glass. She was the only reason he was undecided, for while there was a chance of taking her from Nicholas, then nothing on earth would make Daniel Tregarron leave England….
She gave a short laugh. “So, we both expect to leave here soon then, for one reason or another.”
“Come with me,” he said lightly. “Be my companion instead of some doddering old dowager’s.”
“What a very improper suggestion.”
“It was a thought. Improper—but exceeding agreeable.” He smiled at her. She thought he teased, but he meant every word.
Hawkins returned to the room. “My lady, Mr. Dodswell has returned.”
She could hear her own heartbeats. Please let it be good news…. “Show him in, Hawkins.”
“Very well, my lady.”
To her relief there was a smile on the agent’s travel-worn face, and she knew that everything had indeed gone as planned. His coat was mud-spattered and soaked through by the rain, and his boots left a damp mark on the carpet as the moisture trickled down. Droplets of water dripped as he removed his hat and gloves.
“Forgive my odious state, my lady, but I thought you would wish to hear my news as quickly as possible.”
“I do indeed.”
“The jewels fetched the necessary sum. Flaxton’s made no protest about the price asked, and I was saved from having to ride back to Taunton as the duns were having me followed. One of Peterson’s fellows was waiting for me outside Flaxton’s, would you believe! He relieved me of the sum owed, and gave me a receipt.” He put a piece of grubby paper on the table.
“Nicholas is free of them?”
“He is, Lady Grenville.”
She exhaled slowly. “Thank God,” she whispered.
“I have something else to tell you, my lady, a happy coincidence which I believe will be of interest. I lodged last night at the White Hart on the Bath road, and I shared a table with a certain young Scottish gentleman, a Mr. Alistair McDonald, who by good fortune happened to be a surveyor and engineer. He had until recently been as
sisting the eminent engineer Sir John Rennie in a scheme to drain part of the Fenlands in Cambridgeshire. He knew a great deal about the drainage of such marshy places, and so I took the liberty of requesting him to come to King’s Cliff to give his opinion of what might be done here. I realize that I overstepped my authority, but it seemed too good an opportunity to let pass.”
“When is he coming?”
“As soon as he can. He has several other minor matters to attend to first.”
She looked at Daniel. “It is so sudden—”
“Don’t bite off more than you can chew, Laura,” he warned.
She laughed a little. “I shall not be going out personally with my spade to dig drains, Daniel.”
“Possibly not, but you will still be taking on responsibility.”
“No one is forcing me against my will.”
He said nothing more.
She looked at the agent. “Please sit down and take some wine.”
“No, my lady, if I sit down, you will never get me up again. But I thank you, all the same.”
“You have done very well, and I will be most interested to meet Mr. McDonald.”
“He is a very shrewd young man and I believe you will be able to rely on his opinion.”
“As I can rely on yours?”
“I trust so.”
“Then what would you say if I told you that I have decided to conduct the sale of the hounds, the land, and everything else through Christie’s?”
The agent nodded. “I would say that that is a capital idea, my lady.”
“Good. Then when you have recovered from your exertions in Bath, will you please communicate with them and make the necessary arrangements?”
“So soon?” He seemed taken aback.
“What reason is there to delay?” She smiled. “You still have reservations because I am a woman, don’t you?”
