Love or Duty (16 page)

Not as delicate as mine, Louise thought with grim humour. And that was her last conscious thought before she descended into a black hole of pain, nausea and delirium.

L
ouise wasn’t sure what was real and what was hallucination brought on by the fever.

James was there, and a pretty woman she half-recognized. Old Dr Tate and his nephew featured in her waking dreams. Dora never came near but Louise thought she heard her voice – complaining or, more often, demanding.

As the fever abated and she began to take notice of her surroundings, she was able to sit up for short periods and to hold a glass of water to her lips without spilling it. She still slept for long periods and when she tried to get up her legs felt weak.

One morning she opened her eyes to see a young woman in a nurse’s uniform sitting beside the bed, cool fingers on her wrist as she took her pulse. As she struggled to sit up, the nurse gently pushed her back on the pillow and held out a thermometer.

‘I think you’re back to normal now but we’d better just check,’ she said with a warm smile.

Louise lay back and studied the young woman, the one who’d appeared alongside Andrew Tate in her delirious dreams. She recognized her now – Nurse Faversham from the children’s hospital – the one whose eyes followed Andrew with the devotion of a puppy. Just as mine do, she thought ruefully. But is he as unaware of her as he seems to be of me? she wondered.

She swallowed painfully as she tried to speak and Nurse Faversham held a glass to her lips. She took a sip and moistened her cracked lips. ‘What are you doing here? I don’t need a nurse. It’s just a touch of flu. Surely you’re needed at the hospital.’

The nurse smiled. ‘You’ve had more than a touch of flu, Miss Charlton. You’ve been very ill. Mrs Charlton couldn’t nurse you herself and Matron said I could be spared from the hospital. Besides, the doctor was worried about your mother catching the fever.

‘He’s a good doctor. He’s looked after me since I was a baby.’

‘Not him. I mean young Dr Tate. He’s called in every day to check on you.’ Nurse Faversham giggled. ‘Lucky you, having two handsome young men fussing over you.’

So Andrew
was
here, Louise thought, smiling. It wasn’t just a dream.

‘Your fiancé was so worried about you,’ the nurse said. ‘Wish I had a young man who cared for me like that.’

‘My fiancé?’ Louise was confused until it came rushing back to her – James and her mother making plans while she just sat there, dumb, trying to ignore the pounding of her head. She didn’t remember actually accepting his proposal. Had she really agreed to marry him? Was it too late to change her mind? She covered her confusion by asking for another drink of water.

‘I think you might get up for a while today. You can sit in the chair by the window. It’s a lovely day. I don’t think you’re strong enough for a bath yet so I’ll fetch some water for you.’ Nurse Faversham chattered on while Louise tried to remember exactly what had been said before she had fallen ill.

‘I expect Mr Spencer will call in later.’ The nurse settled Louise into a chair and tucked a blanket round her. ‘There, I’ll just comb your hair for you. And you’d better put this bed jacket on, it’s a bit chilly, but your mother said you like the window open and Doctor says fresh air is good for you.’ She helped her to put on the pretty pink jacket with its silk ribbons and stepped back with a smile. ‘There, you look so much better – even got some roses in your cheeks. Mr Spencer will be so pleased you’re on the mend.’ She giggled again. ‘He’s so sweet, isn’t he? Not many men would take on a mother-in-law as well as a bride. You’re so lucky,’ she said again and gave a little sigh.

Louise gazed out of the window and didn’t reply. Sweet wasn’t the word she’d apply to James. He was good company and, although he insisted he didn’t need her help in the office, he didn’t try to put her down when she voiced her opinions. She couldn’t deny that she enjoyed being seen on the arm of a good-looking young man and that he was becoming an asset to the family business. But he could be moody and, more worryingly, he had a tendency to be extravagant.

The nurse was still fussing around her but Louise ignored her, busy with her own thoughts. She must speak to James as soon as possible. She couldn’t let this situation go on.

Gazing out of the window towards the sea she was distracted by shouting from the direction of the pier. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked, sitting upright in her chair.

‘They’re putting another gun in place,’ said Nurse Faversham.

‘Gun?’

‘Yes. They’ve already put one up by the bandstand. It’s to be manned night and day – in case of invasion.’

‘Do they really think…?’

‘Oh, I forgot. You wouldn’t know. So much has happened while you’ve been ill.’ The nurse took a deep breath. ‘It’s quite frightening really. Ever since they brought the army back from Dunkirk, we’ve been expecting it. And being so near the coast….’

‘Now, now, Nurse. Stop scaring our patient.’ The door had opened and Andrew came in. ‘Good to see you sitting out, Miss Charlton. A great improvement. You had us worried for a while there.’

Louise’s heartbeat quickened but she managed to smile. ‘I’m feeling much better. A little tired though.’

‘Only natural of course. Be careful not to overdo it.’ He beckoned the nurse and they held a conversation in low voices.

Louise tried to ignore the way Nurse Faversham gazed at him adoringly, hanging on his every word. She turned away to look out of the window once more, noticing now the tangles of barbed wire along the beach, the concrete blocks placed at intervals. And what had happened to the pier? She heard the door close and turned round. Andrew came towards her and sat down.

‘I’ve sent her to the chemist for your medicine. Now, you must take it easy for a while, get your strength up. Young Spencer will never forgive me if you’re not fit for your wedding.’

‘Wedding?’ Her heart sank. He thought she was getting married. She wanted to tell him it was all a mistake – not that he cared, of course. But she had to speak to James first.

As if in answer to her thought there was a tap at the door and James put his head round. ‘Can I come in?’ Without waiting for a reply he strode across the room, bent and kissed Louise’s cheek and thrust a huge bunch of tulips at her.

Andrew stood up. ‘Good morning, Spencer. Good to see the patient on the mend, isn’t it? I must be off.’ He turned to Louise. ‘Actually I came to say goodbye. I have to go back to London today but I had to make sure you were really over the worst. My uncle will keep an eye on you. And Nurse Faversham is yours for as long as you need her. She’s an excellent nurse, don’t know what we would have done without her.’

Louise thanked him and he shook hands with James and turned to go. At the door he paused. ‘I’m sorry I won’t be here for the wedding. Look after her, won’t you, Spencer?’

Andrew paused on the landing to collect his thoughts. What a fool he’d been not to have made his feelings clear before now. The sight of James Spencer hovering over Louise, kissing her, bringing her flowers, brought a bitter taste to his mouth. Of course he wanted her to be happy, should be pleased she’d found someone to love. If only it was some other man; he couldn’t stand James Spencer and not solely because he had a place in Louise’s affections.

His uncle had no time for the young man either and had confided only the other day that it was a good job William had died when he did, before he could find out that his son was a spendthrift and a gambler. Andrew was sure that no such rumours had reached Louise. If they had, he was sure that she would never have been swayed by his charm. She was far too sensible to tie herself to a scoundrel.

But they say love is blind, he thought, as he started downstairs. And there was no denying James was a charming young man, as well as being in charge of the family business.

As he reached the front door, Dora came along the hallway. ‘Just off, Doctor? Won’t you stop for some refreshment?’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Charlton. I have to catch the London train.’

‘Will you be back for the wedding?’

Andrew shook his head. ‘I’ve already given my apologies. I have neglected the London clinic for far too long.’

Dora’s lips tightened. ‘I don’t know how you can work in such a place. And bringing those children down here with their dirt and germs….’ She gave a little shudder. ‘I’m sure that’s how poor Louise caught the fever.’

‘You may be right, Mrs Charlton.’

‘There, you see. I knew it. I never should have allowed her to work in that hospital.’

Andrew kept his temper with difficulty. ‘Miss Charlton is a grown woman, perfectly capable of deciding for herself.’ He was tempted to say more but he picked up his hat and opened the front door.

As he left, Dora said, ‘Well, I’m sure James will put a stop to it once they’re married.’

Poor Louise, he thought as he hurried towards the station. What sort of a life would she have with those two? Why hadn’t she stayed in London when she had the chance?

Well, at least she still had a life, he thought, thanking God that she’d recovered from the fever that had almost killed her. His prayers for a patient had never been as fervent as those he’d said at her bedside every day for the past three weeks.

As the train steamed through the lush green countryside he couldn’t stop thinking about Louise, cursing the reserve that had prevented him from making his feelings known when he’d first fallen in love with her. But that one bad experience years ago had left its mark and he had vowed never to be taken in again.

His first encounter with the Charlton family had brought it all back. In Dora Charlton’s manipulative character and Sarah’s blithe assurance that everything would go her way, he had seen echoes of Celia and he had determined not to get too involved with the family. But he had soon realized that Louise was different. She was quiet and serious, with a keen sense of duty to her undeserving and demanding family. But he’d seen flashes of a dormant sense of fun in her relationship with her sister. How he wished he could have been the one to bring out that light-heartedness – the person he thought of as the real Louise.

He tried to tell himself it was nothing to do with him how she lived her life and he truly hoped she would be happy. If only he could be sure that she’d really fallen for James Spencer and wasn’t, as he suspected, being pushed into the marriage by her manipulative stepmother. Dora was delighted at the match and had mentioned more than once how nice it was that, although the founders of the firm were no longer with them, Charlton and Spencer would live on, the two families joined in marriage.

Andrew couldn’t believe that Louise would let herself be pushed into something she didn’t really want. He’d always admired her devotion to her family, but she wasn’t a doormat and he knew she was capable of standing up for herself.

He sighed and stood up as the train crossed the bridge over the Thames and steamed into Victoria Station. He pushed his way through the crowds towards the Underground, noticing the number of men in uniform milling around. It wouldn’t be long before the soldiers recently rescued from Dunkirk would be off again to fight on another battlefront. He just hoped that the fight wouldn’t be on English soil this time and once more his thoughts were drawn to Louise and the vulnerability of her home on the south coast.

The word ‘invasion’ was on everyone’s lips and his heart gave a little lurch at the thought – not just for Louise but for the children and staff of the hospital in Holton. He plunged down the steps, in a hurry now to return to the clinic where he was due to discuss plans for moving the children away from danger. His personal concerns would have to take a back seat for a while: the children were his first priority.

W
hat have I let myself in for, Louise asked herself as she was swept along in the preparations for her forthcoming marriage. Still weak from the debilitating fever, she couldn’t believe that her stepmother, aided and abetted by James, had gone ahead and booked the church. Hymns had been chosen and flowers ordered without any attempt to discover her
preferences
.

She was seated in her chair by the open window, still trying to convince herself it had been part of her delirium, when Dora came into her room clutching a swatch of material.

‘There’s just your dress to be made now,’ she said excitedly. ‘I thought this cream satin was nice. What do you think?’ Without giving Louise a chance to reply, she continued, ‘And what about bridesmaids? I thought I’d leave that to you, dear.’

Too weak to protest, Louise shook her head and closed her eyes. Pity she didn’t leave everything else to me, she thought. How could they have done this to her? And what was the rush? She really needed more time to think about it.

Dora was still talking. ‘Louise, I know it has to be a quiet affair because of your father….’ A small sob and a dab at her eyes with a handkerchief. ‘We’re still in mourning after all.’ Her voice brightened. ‘But you must have a bridesmaid. What about Peggy?’

‘Peggy’s joined the WRNS – I don’t suppose she can get leave,’ Louise said. ‘Anyway, I don’t need bridesmaids.’ With that, she realized that things had gone too far for her to back out. But there would still be no escape from Dora’s demands. At least with James moving into Steyne House she would be able to keep her promise to her father and look after her. James seemed genuinely fond of Dora and, Louise hoped, would help her to deal with the older woman.

‘You must have at least one, Louise. It would look odd.’ Dora was still harping on about bridesmaids.

‘I’d have Sarah, if she were here. As it is….’ She closed her eyes again.

Defeated, Dora stood up. ‘I can see I’m tiring you. I’ll leave you to rest and think about it.’

When she’d gone, Louise sat up and a slow smile spread over her face. She would have a bridesmaid and Dora would just have to accept it. She would pick one or two little girls from the hospital. Some of them were now convalescent and would have been sent home were it not for the war. They would love to dress up in party clothes.

It was a shame that Sarah couldn’t be here though. Louise stood up, still a little unsteady on her feet, and fetched writing paper and a pen. She would write to her sister. Dora had probably already told her about her illness and the forthcoming wedding, but only to Sarah could Louise pour out her true feelings.

Sarah was on the set having her make-up repaired. She’d been so lucky to get a starring part so early on in her film career and she intended to make the most of it. She stared into the mirror, amazed at the different girl who looked back at her. No longer the demure young Amy from
Little Women
, her dark curls were now a smooth platinum bob. Her figure had filled out over the past year and the low cut gown revealed what her lover, Ralph Beauchamp, called teasingly her greatest assets.

It was thanks to Ralph that Sally Charles, as she was now known, had hit the headlines in her first film. He had introduced her to Hollywood, coached and groomed her for her minor role in a B western, made sure her publicity photos reached the right places. And now, here she was, her name above the title on all the posters – ‘Sally Charles in
The Sultan’s Treasure
– a story of passion and intrigue’. Sally was the name chosen by Ralph who had deemed ‘Sarah’ rather dull for a rising star.

Perhaps it wasn’t quite how she’d pictured her new life in America but she wouldn’t change a minute of it. It was as if her early life in Sussex, her time in the London theatre, had happened to someone else. Only when a letter arrived from her half-sister did she think of Louise, pitying her dull life and lost opportunities.

But the letter she’d received today had her worried. She tossed her head and smoothed her hair, pushing the make-up girl away.

‘That’ll do,’ she said, standing up and deliberately erasing thoughts of her far away family. She must concentrate, remember her place on the set, her lines, the gestures to accompany her words. Nothing must interfere with her performance.

It wasn’t until the following day that she retrieved Louise’s letter from her bag and read it properly. She’d only skimmed through it earlier, relieved that because Louise had written herself she must be fully recovered from the mysterious fever that had kept her bedridden for so many weeks. She hadn’t taken in the fact that her half-sister was really getting married – would probably already be a bride by the time the letter arrived. And to James Spencer of all people.

What was she thinking of? Sarah knew that there’d been talk of an engagement. Her mother was all for it. But, knowing how her half-sister felt about Andrew Tate, she’d never dreamed that Louise would settle for second best.

Filming over for the day, Sarah settled back on the velvet daybed in the luxury apartment furnished and paid for by Ralph Beauchamp and began to read her sister’s letter.

Poor foolish Louise, thought Sarah, turning the page and ignoring the twinge of conscience as she remembered what she had done to achieve her own dream. She read on.

Sarah reached the end of the letter, then turned back to look at the date, realizing that it had taken so long to reach her that Louise was now Mrs Spencer. It wasn’t like her sister to be so open about her feelings and Sarah was sure there was more to it than she had revealed. Remembering James as she’d known him when they were still children, she felt sure that Louise was doing the wrong thing. He could have changed, of course. He was running the business now and everyone seemed to think he had grown up and accepted his responsibilities. Sarah wasn’t so sure. She just hoped she was wrong. Anyway, even if she’d had any hope of getting Louise to change her mind, it was too late now.

The door opened and Ralph came in. She put the letter to one side and stood up, her satin housecoat falling open as she moved towards him. The reply to Sarah would have to wait.

Louise’s wedding was not the happiest day of her life. Right until the last minute she’d been on the verge of backing out. But the fact that contact with James would be unavoidable in such a small town, never mind the family business connection, steeled her to go through with it. She couldn’t bear the thought of the scandal that would ensue, not to mention Dora’s hysterics and the inevitable recriminations.

It was easier to go through the motions and tell herself that many people married for convenience. She was sure that some of the couples she knew had never really been in love. Respect and security were just as valid reasons to marry.

There were no bridesmaids after all, much to Dora’s chagrin. But Louise was spared a fight over inviting the children from the hospital. Since the evacuation from Dunkirk and the subsequent fear of an imminent invasion, the children’s hospital had been closed. Those who were fit enough had gone home, while the more vulnerable, including young Alfie, had moved inland. Andrew had been able to requisition a small country house on the other side of the Downs near Midhurst.

The move was taking place on her wedding day and Louise was sad that Alfie couldn’t be there. Andrew had sent a note saying that the boy was still not fully recovered from the illness which had struck many of his patients as well as Louise herself. Dora had been right. The infection had been brought in by a new patient.

Louise hadn’t seen Andrew since his short visit after her illness, for which she was thankful. Dora had invited both him and his uncle to the wedding but, to her relief, he’d sent a cool little note of refusal. His wishes for her future happiness had cut her to the heart. Now she was certain he didn’t care for her except as a friend, otherwise he would surely sense her
reluctance
to marry James.

The service at St Mark’s passed in a blur. Louise made her responses in a low voice and her hand shook as James placed the ring on her finger. When they turned to make their way down the aisle, her knees trembled and James gripped her arm firmly.

At the hotel she could scarcely eat. Old Dr Tate, who had given her away in lieu of her father, sat beside her. He smiled reassuringly. ‘You were right to insist on a quiet do,’ he said. ‘You’re still not fully recovered.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I’ve had a word with young James – told him you’re still quite delicate.’

Louise felt the blush rise up her neck to her cheeks. She knew what he meant. It was something she’d been trying not to think about.

At last the reception was over and the few guests took their leave. Dr Tate drove Dora and the newlyweds back to the house so that Louise could get changed. Petrol rationing and restrictions on travel meant they couldn’t go far afield for a honeymoon and Louise would have preferred to stay home. But she found the idea of spending the first night of her marriage so close to her stepmother embarrassing and she’d agreed to a couple of days away.

James said it was to be a surprise and Louise, although she didn’t really care where they went, was dismayed when she realized their destination. She had hoped that perhaps he was taking her to a small village with a quaint old inn.

‘Why Brighton?’ she asked.

‘I know you love the seaside, my dear,’ he replied, turning to smile at her. ‘There’s more to do here. I’ve booked a room facing the sea. You’ll love it.’

We might as well have stayed in Holton, Louise thought. She didn’t care for Brighton, a bigger, brasher version of her home town. As they drove along the road parallel to the promenade, signs of war were visible. The beautiful Palace Pier, which had been extended only a few years before, now showed huge gaps where it had been partly demolished to deter landing craft. Concrete tank traps and coils of barbed wire littered the beach and there were notices forbidding access. Manned gun
emplacements
at intervals underlined the very real fear of the threat from across the Channel.

Louise wasn’t interested in the brash entertainment the resort had to offer and could see no point in being at the seaside when you couldn’t walk along the beach or swim in the sea. Not wanting to disappoint James, though, she tried to hide her dismay.

As the car drew up in front of the hotel he was grinning. ‘Not like dreary old Holton is it?’ he said, leaping out and standing with his hands on his hips. ‘I love this place.’

The commissionaire hurried forward to take their bags and Louise slowly got out of the car. Her stomach churned with apprehension as she followed James into the foyer and her hand shook as she signed the register, faltering as she remembered that her name was no longer Charlton.

In their room, she glanced around indifferently while James prowled around examining their bathroom, opening wardrobes and drawers. Suddenly weary, she sat on the window seat and closed her eyes against the sparkle of sun on sea.

James gave a muttered exclamation and she opened her eyes to see him picking up the house telephone. She was about to say she would like tea when he spoke, loudly and angrily. ‘The bath hasn’t been cleaned properly. It’s not good enough.’

‘James, what’s the matter?’

He waved a hand to silence her. ‘I don’t want excuses,’ he shouted into the phone. ‘Send someone up immediately.’ He slammed the receiver down. ‘Disgraceful. It never used to be like this.’