When she came downstairs again, in a plain pelisse worn over a sad-coloured morning-dress which she commonly wore when engaged in gardening, or attending to her dogs, Hester found the butler awaiting her in the hall, and she knew at once, from the look on his face, that he was not going to be as easy to deceive as the lachrymose Povey.
She paused at the foot of the stairs, drawing on her gloves, and looking at Cliffe with a little challenge in her eyes.
‘My lady, where are you going to?’ he asked her bluntly. ‘That chaise never came from Ancaster! It’s from the Crown at St Ives, and the post-boy with it!’
‘Oh, dear, how vexatious of you to recognize it!’ sighed Hester. ‘And now I suppose you have told all the other servants!’
‘No, my lady, I have not, and well you know I would not!’
She smiled at him, a gleam of mischief in her face. ‘Don’t! I rely on you to tell my brother, and her ladyship, that I have gone to Lady Ennerdale – because the children all have the measles.’
‘But where are you going, my lady?’ Cliffe asked, perturbed.
‘Well, I don’t precisely know, but it really doesn’t signify! I shall be quite safe, and not very far from here, and I shall return – oh, very soon, alas! Don’t try to detain me, pray! I have written a very untruthful letter to her ladyship: will you give it to her, if you please?’
He took it from her, and after staring very hard at her for a moment, bowed, and said: ‘Yes, my lady.’
‘You have always been such a kind friend to me: thank you!’
‘There is no one in this house, my lady, barring those it wouldn’t be seemly for me to name, who wouldn’t be happy to serve you – but I wish I could be sure I was doing right!’
‘Oh, yes! For I am going upon an errand of mercy, you might say. Now I must not waste any more time: will you tell Mr Ross I am quite ready to start?’
‘Yes, my lady. I should perhaps mention that Mr Whyteleafe has been with him for the past twenty minutes, however.’
‘Dear me, how very unfortunate! I wish I knew what Mr Ross may have told him!’ she murmured. ‘Perhaps I had better go to the Red Saloon myself.’
She entered this apartment in time to hear Mr Ross’s firm assertion that all the children had the measles, though none was so alarmingly full of them as little Giles. Lady Ennerdale, he added, was prostrate with anxiety.
‘You astonish me!’ exclaimed the chaplain, rather narrowly observing him. ‘I had not thought her ladyship –’
‘Because,’ said Mr Ross hurriedly, ‘the nurse had the misfortune to fall down the stairs, and break her leg, and so everything falls upon her shoulders!’
‘Yes, is it not dreadful?’ interposed Lady Hester. ‘Poor Susan! No wonder she should be distracted! I am quite ready to set forward, Mr Ross, and indeed I feel that we should lose no time!’
‘All the way to Ancaster!’ Mr Whyteleafe said, looking thunderstruck. ‘You will never reach it tonight, Lady Hester! Surely it would be wiser to wait until tomorrow?’
‘No, no, for that would mean that I should not arrive until quite late, and knocked up by the journey, I daresay. We shall spend the night somewhere on the road. And then I shan’t be extraordinarily fatigued, and shall be able to render my sister all the assistance possible.’
‘If you must go, Lady Hester, I wonder at it that Sir Matthew should not have had the courtesy to fetch you himself! I make no apology for speaking plainly on this head! There is a lack of consideration in such behaviour, a –’
‘Sir Matthew,’ said Mr Ross, ‘is away from home, sir. That is why I offered to be his deputy.’
‘Yes, and how very much obliged to you I am!’ said Hester. ‘But do not let us be dawdling any longer, I beg!’
Mr Whyteleafe said no more, but he was evidently very much shocked by this renewed instance of the shameless demands made upon Hester by her sisters, and it was with tightly folded lips that he accompanied her to where the chaise waited. She was afraid that he too would recognize the post-boy, but he did not bestow more than a cursory glance on him, the circumstance of Lady Ennerdale’s having been shabby enough to have sent a hired vehicle, with only two horses, for the conveyance of her sister, ousting all else from his head. Lady Hester was handed up into the chaise, Mr Ross jumped in after her, the steps were let up, and in another minute they were drawing away from the house.
‘Phew!’ Hildebrand said involuntarily, pulling out his handkerchief, and mopping his brow. ‘I can’t tell you how thankful I was that you came in just then, ma’am, for he was asking me all manner of questions! He would know who I was, and I was obliged to tell him that I was employed by Sir Matthew as a secretary.’
‘How very clever of you! I daresay he was very much surprised, for Sir Matthew is interested in nothing but sport.’
‘Yes, he was – in fact, he said he could not imagine what I should find to do for Sir Matthew. So I said Sir Matthew had formed the intention of going into politics.’
This made her laugh so much that he lost any lingering shyness, and ventured to break to her the news that she had become, without her knowledge, Amanda’s aunt. He was a little afraid that she might be affronted, for she was much younger than Amanda had led him to suppose; but she accepted the relationship with approval, and said that perhaps she had better become his aunt too.
By the time the chaise arrived at Little Staughton, they were fast friends. Dusk was falling when it drew up before the Bull Inn, and lamplight shone through several of the windows. As Hildebrand jumped down, and turned to help Lady Hester, Amanda leaned out of one of the casements set under the eaves, and called, in a voice sharpened by anxiety: ‘Hildebrand? Oh, Hildebrand, have you brought her?’
He looked up. ‘Yes, here she is! Take care you don’t fall out of the window!’
She disappeared abruptly. The hand in Hildebrand’s trembled convulsively, but Lady Hester’s voice, when she spoke, was quite quiet. ‘I must leave you to settle with the post-boy, Hildebrand. I am afraid –’
She did not say what she was afraid of, but went swiftly into the inn. As she crossed the threshold, Amanda reached the foot of the steep stairs, and fairly pounced on her, dryly sobbing from mingled fright and relief. ‘Oh, thank God you are come at last! He is very, very ill, and I cannot make him lie still, or even hear me! Oh, La – Aunt Hester, come!’
‘Ah, I thought Miss would be sorry she turned off Mrs Bardfield so hasty!’ remarked Mrs Chicklade, in the background, and speaking with a morbid satisfaction which made Amanda round on her like a young tigress.
‘Go away, you odious, impertinent creature! You said you washed your hands of it, and so you may, for I don’t want help from such a heathen as you are!’
Mrs Chicklade’s colour rose alarmingly. ‘Oh, so I’m a heathen, am I? Me as has been a churchgoer all my life, and kept my house respectable – till this day!’
‘Good-evening.’
The gentle, aloof voice acted on the incensed landlady like a charm. Cut short in mid-career, she stared at Lady Hester, her rich colour slowly fading.
‘I am afraid,’ said Hester, with cool courtesy, ‘that you are being put to a great deal of trouble. It is perhaps a pity I did not, after all, bring my maid with me. My nephew thought, however, that there would be no room for her in so small a house.’
Mrs Chicklade felt herself impelled to abandon her martial attitude, and to drop an unwilling curtsy. ‘I’m sure, ma’am, I’m not one to grudge a bit of trouble. All I say is –’
‘Thank you,’ Hester said, turning away from her. ‘Take me up to your uncle’s room, Amanda!’
Amanda was only too glad to do so. Chicklade, an expression of considerable concern on his face, was bending over the bed on which Sir Gareth tossed and muttered. He looked round as the ladies entered the room, and said: ‘I don’t like the looks of
him – not at all, I don’t! Mortal bad, he is, ma’am, but I don’t doubt he’ll be better now he has his good lady to tend him.’
Hester, casting off her bonnet and pelisse, hardly heard this speech, her attention being fixed on Sir Gareth. She went to the bed, and laid her hand fleetingly on his brow. It was burningly hot, and the eyes that glanced unrecognizingly at her were blurred with fever. She said: ‘Has the doctor seen him since this morning?’
‘No!’ answered Amanda, in a choked voice. ‘I have been waiting and waiting for him, for he promised he would come again!’
‘Then I think someone should ride over to desire him to come as soon as he may. Meanwhile, if Hildebrand will bring up the smaller of my two valises, and you, landlord, will desire your wife to set a kettle on to boil, I hope we may make him more comfortable.’
‘Is he going to die?’ whispered Amanda, her eyes dark with dread.
‘No!’ Hester replied calmly. ‘He is not going to die, but he has a great deal of fever, and I fancy his wound is much inflamed. The arm is swollen, and these tight bandages are making it worse. Pray go down, my dear, and send Hildebrand up to me!’
Amanda sped away on this errand, and returned very speedily, followed by Hildebrand, bearing a valise. He was looking scared, and cast one shrinking glance at Sir Gareth, and then quickly averted his eyes. Lady Hester had stripped the blankets off the bed, so that Sir Gareth was now covered only by the sheet. Without seeming to notice Hildebrand’s sickly pallor, she directed him, in her quiet way, to open the valise. ‘You will find a roll of flannel in it, and some scissors. I am going to apply fomentations to the wound. Will you help me, if you please?’
‘I will!’ Amanda said. ‘Hildebrand faints if he sees blood.’
‘He won’t see any blood, and I am quite sure he will not faint.’
‘No, I – I swear I won’t!’ Hildebrand said, through his clenched teeth.
‘Of course not. You could not, when we depend so entirely upon you, could you? For, you know, I am not strong enough to lift Sir Gareth. It is a great comfort to know that you are here to share the nursing with me. Amanda, while I am busy with the fomentation, do you go down and try whether there is any wine to be obtained. A little hot wine will often relieve a fever.’
Amanda seemed for a moment as though she would have rebelled against what she suspected to be an attempt to exclude her from the sickroom, but after throwing a rather jealous glance at Hildebrand, she went away.
By the time she came back, carefully carrying, wrapped in a cloth, a glass of hot claret, Lady Hester had tied the last bandage, and was exchanging the very lumpy pillow on the bed for her own one of down. Hildebrand, who was supporting Sir Gareth in his arms, had not only recovered his colour, but looked to be in much better spirits. He had been able to look upon his handiwork without fainting; and Lady Hester, so far from reviling or despising him, had said that she did not know how she would go on without him.
Amanda reported that Chicklade had sent off the boy who helped him in the tap, and the small stable, to hasten the doctor, so Lady Hester said that since Sir Gareth seemed a little easier they would not try to get any of the mulled claret down his throat just at present. Hildebrand lowered him on to the pillow again, and although he was still very restless it was plain that the fomentation was already bringing him a certain measure of relief. Lady Hester sat down at the head of the bed, and began to bathe his face with lavender-water, softly directing her youthful helpers to go downstairs to await the doctor’s arrival. They tiptoed away. Left alone with Sir Gareth, Lady Hester smoothed back the tumbled curls from his brow with a loving hand. He stared up at her, and said in a hurried, fretting tone: ‘I must find her. I must find her.’
‘Yes, Gareth, you shall,’ she answered soothingly. ‘Only be still, my dearest!’
For a moment she thought that there was a gleam of recognition in his eyes; then he turned his head away, and resumed his incoherent muttering. His hand, aimlessly brushing his sheet, found her wrist, and grasped it strongly; he said, quite audibly: ‘You won’t escape me again!’
When, presently, the doctor was brought into the room by Amanda, he thought that the lady who rose to meet him had been crying a little. He was not surprised; and he said, with rough kindness: ‘Well, now, what is all this I am hearing about my patient? Some fever was to be expected, you know, but you may depend upon it that a man with a good constitution will recover from worse hurts than a mere hole in his shoulder. You need not tell me that he has that, ma’am! I have seldom attended a more splendid specimen than your husband, and I don’t doubt that between us we shall have him going on prosperously in a very short time.’
‘But he is not my husband!’ said Hester involuntarily.
‘Not your husband?’ he said, looking at her very hard. ‘I beg your pardon, but I understood from Chicklade that Mr Ross had fetched Sir Gareth’s wife to him!’
‘No,’ said Hester helplessly. ‘Oh, no!’
‘Then who may you be, ma’am?’ he demanded bluntly.
‘She is his sister, of course!’ said Amanda, with great promptness. ‘I suppose that when my cousin said he would fetch our aunt, Chicklade thought she must be Uncle Gareth’s wife, but she isn’t.’
‘Oh!’ said the doctor. ‘So that’s how it is!’
‘Yes, that’s how it is,’ agreed Hester, accepting the situation.
Fifteen
Sir Gareth, opening his eyes on unfamiliar surroundings, wondered where he was. He appeared to be lying in an attic, which seemed very odd, though not of any great importance. He considered the matter idly, and next discovered that something was wrong with his left shoulder. He tried to bring his other hand to feel it, but found that the effort was too much for his strength. Also, which was strange, he was very tired. Decidedly something must be wrong, he thought, unperturbed, but puzzled. He turned his head on the pillow, and his eyes fell upon a slim youth, who was watching him intently from a chair by the window. The wreaths of sleep which were clinging to his brain began to drift away. He frowned. A boy in a coffee-room, talking some nonsense about a blackened heart, and Amanda – Amanda? ‘Good God!’ said Sir Gareth faintly, as memory came rushing back.
Hildebrand, uncertain whether he was himself, or still lightheaded, said tentatively: ‘Are you better, sir?’
‘Hildebrand Ross,’ stated Sir Gareth. ‘Where the devil am I?’
‘Well, I don’t suppose you would know the place, sir, but pray do not be uneasy! You are quite safe.’
‘Did you put a bullet into me?’ enquired Sir Gareth, dreamily interested.
‘Yes, I did sir, but indeed I never meant to! Pray do not let yourself be angry with me! I mean, not yet, while you are so weak!’
‘I remember telling you not to wave that pistol about,’ remarked Sir Gareth, in a reminiscent voice. ‘What happened after that?’
‘Well, I – I shot you, sir, but don’t talk about it now! The doctor says you must be perfectly quiet.’
‘How long have I been here?’
‘Four days, sir – and I think I had better fetch Aunt Hester!’ said Hildebrand nervously.
Sir Gareth, left to make what he could of this, found it beyond his comprehension, and closed his eyes again.
When he awoke for the second time, he remembered that he had been talking to Hildebrand, and looked towards the window. But Hildebrand was no longer there. Lady Hester was seated in the windsor chair, reading a book. Sir Gareth had thought that he was better, but he now suspected that he was delirious. There was a sandy kitten curled up in her lap, too, and he knew that kitten. Hester had nothing to do with Joseph, so probably he was still floating in a muddled dream. ‘Besides,’ he said aloud, ‘she doesn’t wear a cap. How absurd!’
She looked up quickly, and rose, setting Joseph down. ‘Hildebrand came running to tell me that you had waked up, q
uite yourself again, but when I reached you, you were so soundly asleep that I almost doubted him,’ she said, taking his hand, and feeling his pulse. ‘Oh, that is so much better! Do you feel more the thing?’
His fingers closed weakly round her hand. ‘But this is fantastic!’ he said. ‘Are you sure I am not dreaming?’
‘Quite sure,’ she replied, smiling mistily down at him. ‘I daresay you may be wondering how I come to be here, but it is not at all important, and there is no need for you to tease yourself about it just now.’
He studied the offending cap frowningly. ‘Why do you wear that thing?’
‘Well, I think I have reached the age when perhaps I should.’
‘Nonsense! I wish you will take it off.’
‘Should you mind very much if I don’t?’ she said apologetically. ‘There is something so very respectable about a cap, you know.’
That made him smile. ‘Must you look respectable?’
‘Yes, indeed I must. Now, my dear friend, I am going to call Chicklade that he may bring up the broth Mrs Chicklade has been keeping hot for you, the instant you should wake up.’
‘Who is Chicklade?’
‘How stupid of me! He is the landlord, an excellent man, quite unlike his wife, who is really the most tiresome creature. I shall let him come into the room, because he has been so very obliging, and, besides that, I want him to raise you while I slip another pillow behind you. I shall warn him he must not encourage you to talk, but, in case you should say something to undo us all, will you remember that Hildebrand is your nephew?’