The Lady's Maid (11 page)

He cleared his throat, glancing nervously at Lady Damerell. ‘I have extracted as much of the shot as was possible, but I fear that some of it is lodged in Sir Hector’s spine, and it would be too dangerous to remove it.’

‘But he will survive his injuries?’ Lady Damerell clutched Josie’s hand. ‘Tell me that he will.’

He shook his head. ‘It is too early to tell, my lady. But Sir Hector is a strong man and we can but hope and pray for his recovery.’

Josie eyed him with growing suspicion. She could tell by his downcast eyes and tone of voice that he was prevaricating. ‘There is something else. What is it?’

He cleared his throat and a dull flush stained his pale cheeks. ‘There is no easy way to put this, so you will have to forgive me for being blunt, but I fear that Sir Hector will never walk again. The injury to his spinal cord is such that he is paralysed from the waist down. I am so sorry.’

Lady Damerell gave a low moan and covered her face with her hands.

Josie gave him a searching look. ‘Are you absolutely certain?’

He nodded. ‘I’ve seen many spinal injuries, although not many from gunshot wounds. They are usually due to a fall whilst hunting, but the outcome is invariably the same. You asked me to speak plainly, Miss Damerell.’

‘Is he still in danger?’

‘I am afraid so. I’ve done everything I can for now, but I’ll return first thing in the morning.’ He opened his medical bag and took out a small medicine bottle. ‘Laudanum. I think her ladyship will need something to help her sleep, and maybe you might benefit from a couple of drops yourself, Miss Damerell. You’ve suffered a terrible shock and you might need something later to calm your nerves.’

‘Thank you, doctor, but I am quite calm. When may we see my father?’

‘He is heavily sedated. Miss Hickson is watching over him, but I suggest you hire an experienced nurse.’

Lady Damerell lifted her head. She was still deathly pale, but appeared to have regained some of her composure. ‘That won’t be necessary, Dr Smith. I will supervise his care, and we have more than enough servants to cater for all his needs. I won’t have one of those drunken, snuff-taking, common women who call themselves nurses in my home.’ She rose from her chair. ‘I’ll go to him now, if you have no objections.’

‘As you wish, ma’am.’ Dr Smith bowed as Lady Damerell glided past him with a swish of silk taffeta petticoats.

He looked so tired and crestfallen that Josie felt sorry for him. ‘My mother is naturally extremely upset. I’m sure that you would not recommend anyone who was unsuitable for the position.’

‘You can send a servant for me if I am needed before the morning,’ he said with a ghost of a smile. ‘And should Lady Damerell change her mind, I know of a respectable woman from the village who is an excellent nurse.’ He closed his medical bag with a decisive snap. ‘I am truly sorry to see your father laid low, Miss Damerell.’

Left alone in the room Josie walked slowly to the window, not knowing quite what to do next. She was not needed in the sickroom, and sooner or later she must face her guests, but not just yet. As she leaned her forehead against the cool glass windowpane, she saw Kate riding along the tree-lined avenue towards the house, with Sam following behind in the trap. Her spirits lifted a little; at least she could talk openly about her father’s condition to Kate: they had never had any
secrets
from each other. She was about to move away from the window when she saw Harry strolling down the wide stone steps to the carriage sweep. Kate reined in, drawing Sheba to a halt, and Harry helped her dismount. They appeared to be deep in conversation and Josie raised her hand to tap on the window, but she changed her mind and lowered it again with an exasperated sigh. She did not want Harry to think she was spying on him, but Kate was at fault. She should have taken the horse to the stables. It was not her place to ride up to the front entrance, let alone spend time conversing with one of the house guests, and especially not Harry. Sam was obviously waiting to take her home on the farm cart, so why the delay? What would a man like Harry find to talk about to a servant?

Commonsense battled with anger. Harry was a charmer and Kate was not versed in the art of flirtation. She must have a heart to heart talk with her, warning her about wealthy men who took advantage of innocent maidens. Harry might not be as bad as her uncle Joseph who had a shocking reputation with women both above and below stairs, but Kate was an innocent. She needed protecting from herself. Hurrying from the room, Josie ran down the stairs, through the great entrance hall and came to a halt at the top of the stone steps. She was relieved and almost ridiculously pleased to see that Sam had climbed down from the trap and was standing beside Kate. At least he was showing good sense. She took a deep breath and descended more slowly.

Harry turned at the sound of her footsteps. ‘How is Sir Hector?’

‘As well as can be expected. Isn’t that what doctors always say?’

Sam dragged off his billycock hat. ‘I’m truly sorry. Is there anything I can do, Josie?’

Harry turned to her with an amused smile. ‘Are you this friendly with everyone on the estate?’

‘We grew up together, Sam, Kate and myself,’ Josie said hastily. ‘He meant no disrespect.’

Harry shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s none of my business. This is your home and you must do as you please.’

‘I’ll try to remember my place in future, miss,’ Sam said, glowering.

‘We should leave now.’ Kate looped the reins over Sheba’s head. ‘I’ll take her to the stables, Miss Josephine.’ She headed off without giving Josie a chance to respond.

Sam tipped his hat. ‘Good evening to you, miss.’

Josie sent him a warning glance. ‘Thank you, Loveday. Hadn’t you better go after Kate? I assume that you are here to take her home.’

He held her gaze for a moment and then backed away. ‘That was the plan, miss.’

Josie clenched her fists at her side. The insolent look on his face made her want to slap him. He was treading on dangerous ground. Social mores had mattered little when they were younger, but things were different now. It was time that Sam Loveday acknowledged the fact that they could no longer treat each other like equals. She turned to Harry, but he was staring up at the darkening sky. ‘It looks like rain. Perhaps I ought
to
take Miss Coggins home in my curricle. The poor girl has had a bad enough time of it today without getting a soaking.’

‘Really, Harry.’ Josie’s frayed nerves were beginning to get the better of her. ‘Kate’s a country girl; she won’t dissolve in a shower of rain. Loveday will see her safely home.’

‘Aye, us country folk are used to getting a good soaking every now and then,’ Sam muttered as he sprang nimbly onto the driving seat. He gave Josie a last, long look and then flicked the reins. The horse obediently started off in the direction of the stables.

‘That fellow should be taught a few manners,’ Harry said, frowning. ‘He needs putting in his place, Josie.’

‘Yes, and I will be the one to do it, but are you sure that you were just being chivalrous? Kate is a pretty girl and innocent as a newborn lamb where men are concerned.’

‘Of course I was, my dear.’ Good humour restored, Harry met her anxious gaze with a smile. ‘You know that I have eyes only for you.’

Josie bit her lip; she knew that he was teasing her, but she was not in the mood. ‘Your reputation as a flirt preceded you, but when you took charge after the accident, I thought I saw another side to your character. Obviously, I was mistaken.’

‘I’m too much of a gentleman to contradict a lady.’ He held out his hand, palm upwards as large spots of rain began to fall. ‘There now, didn’t I say it was going to rain? I think I might take your protégée
home
after all. She may not be as robust as you think she is.’

She watched him striding towards the stables with anger roiling in her belly. If he had dishonourable designs on Kate, then he had better beware. She would not stand by and see her friend’s reputation ruined. The rain was falling heavily now and Josie retreated into the house. She had intended to go straight to her room, but with her mother fully occupied, the duties of hostess now fell upon her shoulders. She ought to go into the Chinese Room where she knew their guests were assembled waiting to hear news of Sir Hector’s condition, but she did not feel up to the task. Besides which, she hardly knew them. They were Harry’s friends and without him there to support her she would feel ill at ease. Why he had felt the need to go chasing off after Kate was a mystery. She clenched her hands into fists and stamped her foot, causing the footman to jump to attention. She turned away from him with a dismissive wave of her hand. Her mouth was dry and her pulses raced. For a moment she could not understand the anger that threatened to consume her, and then she caught sight of her reflection in one of the many mirrors that adorned the walls. The face of a jealous woman stared back at her, and she realised with a sense of shock that it was Kate who had roused such a tumult of emotion in her breast. The idea was so ridiculous that she laughed out loud. One had to be in love in order to suffer the poisonous bite of that emotional serpent. She could not possibly have fallen for Harry. She intended to marry him but love had
not
come into her scheme, and if she succumbed to such a passion she knew that it would eventually destroy them both.

She had a sudden urgent need to see her father. Never mind Harry and his hangers-on. She had little or nothing in common with the languid beauty, Gwendoline Mortimer, who had not an original thought in her head, or the vivacious red-head, the Honourable Sophronia de Vere. They might be people whom she ought to cultivate if she intended to become mistress of Copperstone Castle, but at this moment she could not have cared less. She hurried up the grand staircase to the bedroom her parents had shared for more than twenty-four years.

She found her mother pacing the floor in a state of great agitation. ‘Mama, what’s the matter? Is he worse? Shall I send for Dr Smith?’

Marguerite came to a halt, gazing at her with tears running down her thin cheeks. ‘He’s just the same, my darling. Your poor father has been cut down in his prime. I can’t bear to see him like this, and if the worst happened and he were to die … what would become of us then?’

Josie put her arm around her mother’s shoulders and led her to the window seat. ‘You mustn’t think like that, Mama. Even if what the doctor said was true and he is partially paralysed, that doesn’t mean it’s the end.’

Marguerite sank down on the cushions and fished in her pocket for a scrap of lace that served as a hanky. She dabbed ineffectually at her eyes. ‘I know that,
Josephine
. But you don’t understand. If your father were to pass away, we would have to leave here. The estate is entailed on the closest male heir.’

‘Uncle Joseph.’

‘Exactly. Joseph and Hermione Damerell will take up residence here and we will be evicted.’

‘Surely not. He wouldn’t be so cruel.’

‘Joseph is an ambitious man and he would love to get his hands on your papa’s estate.’

‘But there’s the town house, Mama. We could live quite comfortably in Bedford Square.’

Marguerite gave her a despairing look. ‘Haven’t you understood a word I’ve said, Josephine? The entire estate will belong to Joseph.’ She broke off on a sob. ‘You should have been a boy. I asked for a boy.’

Josie stifled the sudden desire to giggle. ‘I’m sorry that you prayed for a son and got me instead. Perhaps I was a changeling.’

‘Don’t say such things. It’s not true. It’s absolutely not true. You are mine.’

Josie stared at her in dismay. Perhaps the shock of her father’s accident had turned her mind. Mama was delicate at the best of times. She laid her hand on her mother’s arm. ‘I didn’t mean to be flippant, Mama. But there’s really no need to get yourself in a state. Papa isn’t going to die. I won’t let him.’

‘You always were a stubborn child.’

‘I’m my father’s daughter. We’re made of strong stuff, you’ll see. You and I will nurse him back to health, and if he can’t walk again we’ll get him one of those Bath chair contraptions. We’re Damerells,
Mama
. We won’t allow something like this to beat us.’

A muffled moan from the bed brought Marguerite to her feet and she rushed to her husband’s side. ‘Hector, my darling. Are you all right?’

Sir Hector opened his eyes for a few seconds and then closed them again, groaning.

‘Laudanum,’ Josie said, seizing the bottle that the doctor had left. ‘Give him a couple of drops in some water, Mama. It will take the pain away and help him to sleep.’

Marguerite snatched the bottle from her. ‘I’m not a child, Josephine. I know what to do. I’ll stay with your father, and you must go downstairs and entertain our guests.’

‘But Mama, they’ll understand that I’m needed here.’

‘Listen to me for once and think about what I’m about to say. It’s even more important for you to cultivate Mr Challenor now. I want to see you married and your future assured before the year is out.’

‘I would like to be mistress of Copperstone Castle, but I’m not sure I want the man who goes with it.’

‘Don’t you dare make a joke of this, Josephine. Our whole future rests on your shoulders.’ Marguerite’s fingers trembled as she attempted to take the cork out of the small glass bottle. She brushed Josie’s hand away as she attempted to help her. ‘Ring the bell for Hickson. I need her now.’

Dismissed from her parents’ room, Josie made her way slowly downstairs, bracing herself to join the
party
. It was one thing setting her sights on being the wife of a rich man, but quite another to be coerced into marrying a man she could never truly love. She crossed the marble-tiled floor, oblivious to the heady scent emanating from jardinières filled with bronze and gold chrysanthemums, and the bowls of flamboyant dahlias placed on pier tables, their gaudy hues reflecting in gilt-framed wall mirrors. The footman had just lit the candles in the glittering chandelier and had hoisted it up to the ceiling where the crystal drops trembled and sent prisms of coloured light dancing on the ivory walls. She paused for a few seconds outside the double doors, glancing around with a shiver of apprehension. All this grandeur and her comfortable, pampered way of life might vanish over-night if her father were to die from his injuries. Her privileged upbringing had left her without the necessary skills to earn her own living. She would be a pauper unless she made a good match. She painted a smile on her face and opened the door.