The Secret Woman (13 page)

Well, madam, I thought, I don't wonder at it if you get into tempers like you did a short while ago.

She was wild, passionate, and uncontrolled. What would Lady Crediton think of such a creature? One thing she would be pleased about. If one of the brothers had to make such a
faux
pas
at least it wasn't her precious son. I could imagine her fury if the important Rex made a
mésalliance
. What would she do? Had she the power to do anything? No doubt she had an interest in the Company; she would most certainly be a very important shareholder.

There were so many interesting things to be learned in the Castle; more interesting in fact than the matrimonial troubles of this pretty little fish out of water whom I had come to nurse.

***

May
15th.
I heard today that the Captain is on his way home and should arrive in four weeks' time. It was Edward who told me. We have become friends; I must say I find him a bright little fellow and I pity him left to the care of the prim Miss Beddoes. She is the most unimaginative woman imaginable and Edward is really rather a naughty little boy where she is concerned. The other day she brought him in from his walk in the grounds dripping with water. He had decided to take a bath fully dressed in the fountain, he said. She was quite distracted and he only laughed when she scolded him. It is her own fault in a way; she is so lacking in confidence that the shrewd child senses this and makes the most of it. He knows that he has to do what I tell him or go. But I suppose it is easy for me as I am not in control of him. He quite clearly thinks that I am clever and that I am in charge of his Mamma in the same way as poor Miss Beddoes is in charge of him; and to be in authority over a grown-up person makes me very important in his eyes. He comes into his mother's room and watches me give her medicine. I have a little kitchen where I prepare her food and he watches me do that. He likes to have what he calls “tasters” from Mamma's plate. Miss Beddoes frowns on this; she says it is eating between his meals and spoils his appetite; and as in the case of most young people the more this is forbidden the more it is to his taste. He is a lonely little boy in some respects. He is so small; the Castle is so big and his mother has no idea how to treat a child. Sometimes she spoils him and wants to fondle him; at others she loses her temper with him and has no time for him. He is not fond of her, I can see. He despises Miss Beddoes; he is in awe of Lady Crediton; but he is fond of Grandmamma Stretton, and goes to see her every day but Jane won't let him stay long because she said he tires her mistress. It's small wonder that he has become attached to me. I am, I suppose, predictable; my attitude is unchanging. I never fuss over him; in fact I take little notice of him; but we like each other.

So he came in this morning while I was preparing his mother's mid-morning milk and cutting her bread and butter. He sat down watching me, swinging his legs. I knew he had some exciting news to tell and that he was wondering how best to startle me with it. He could not keep it to himself: “My Papa is coming home.”

“Well, are you pleased?”

He regarded the tip of his shoe shyly. “Yes,” he said. Then: “Are you?”

“I shan't know yet.”

“When will you know?”

“When I meet him perhaps.”

“And will you like him?”

“I daresay that will depend on whether he likes me.”

For some reason that seemed to amuse him; for he laughed aloud, but perhaps that was with pleasure. “He likes ships and the sea and sailors and me…”

“That sounds like a song,” I said.

I began to sing:

“He likes ships and the sea

And sailors and me.”

He looked at me with great admiration.

“I know something else you like,” I said.

“What? What?”

“Bread and butter.”

I put a slice on a plate and gave it to him.

While he was eating it Miss Beddoes came in looking for him. She knew well enough to come straight to my room when he was missing.

Seeing her he crammed the bread and butter into his mouth.

“Edward!” she cried angrily.

“He'll choke,” I said. “That'll do him no good.”

“He's no right to come in here…eating between meals.”

She was criticizing me really, not him. I just ignored her and went on cutting the bread and butter. Edward was taken away. At the door, he turned and looked at me. He looked as if he was going to cry, so I winked, which made him laugh. It always did, and he would pull his face into all sorts of contortions to try to wink back. It was flouting authority of course and wrong of me, but it stopped his tears—and after all, he was a lonely little fellow.

When I took the tray in, Monique was sitting up in bed in a lacy bed jacket, looking at herself in a hand-mirror. She had heard the news evidently. What a difference in a woman! She was quite beautiful now.

She frowned at the tray though.

“I don't want that.”

“Oh come,” I said, “you'll have to be well for when the Captain comes home.”

“You know…”

“Your son has just informed me.”

“Trust you!” she said. “You know everything.”

“Not everything,” I said modestly. “But at least I know what's good for you.”

I smiled my bright nurse's smile. I was pleased that at last he was coming home.

***

May
18.
It seems incredible that I have been here such a short time. I feel I know them all so well. Lady Crediton sent for me yesterday afternoon. She wanted a report on my patient. I told her that Mrs. Stretton seemed to be progressing favorably and there was no doubt that the new diet Dr. Elgin had worked out for her was having a beneficial effect.

“You are quite comfortable, Nurse?” she asked me.

“Very comfortable, thank you, Lady Crediton.”

“Master Edward has a cold. I understand that he went fully clothed into the fountain the other day.”

I wondered who her informant was. Baines probably—I imagined Edith's reporting to Baines and Baines carrying the news to Lady Crediton. Perhaps our misdeeds were all recorded and presented to our employer.

“He is very healthy and will soon be well. I think a day or so confined to his bedroom and he will be perfectly well again.”

“I will speak to Miss Beddoes. She really should have more control. Do you think Dr. Elgin should look at him when he calls, Nurse?”

I said I thought he might do that but it was not necessary to call him specially.

She inclined her head.

“Mrs. Stretton has had no more unfortunate attacks?”

“No. Her health has improved since the news came that her husband is on his way home.”

Lady Crediton's lips hardened. I wondered what she felt about Redvers. I should know when he returned.

“The Captain will not be home until after our house party. I must ask you to take special care of your patient, Nurse. It would be most inconvenient if she were ill at such a time.”

“I shall do my best to keep her well.”

The interview was over. I felt a little shaken. I am not easily overawed; but there was something snakelike about the woman's eyes. I pictured her smashing the champagne bottle with venom against the side of the ship and saying in a firm voice: “I name this ship
The
Secret
Woman
.” How she must have hated having that woman in the house all those years! And what a power Sir Edward must have been! No wonder the Castle was such an exciting place! What emotions must have circulated within its walls! I wonder Lady Crediton didn't push her rival over one of the parapets or Valerie Stretton didn't put arsenic in her ladyship's food. There must have been ample provocation. And now they still lived under the same roof; Valerie Stretton had lost her protecting lover; and I supposed that all passions were spent. They were merely two old ladies who had reached the age when the past seemed insignificant. Or did people ever feel so?

In any case, I thought, I should not like to offend Lady Crediton. There was no fear of my doing that at the moment. She was clearly quite pleased with me.

I fancied she was less so with Miss Beddoes who even as I left the presence was making her trembling way toward it.

I walked out into the gardens. Rex was there.

He said: “You seem to enjoy our gardens, Nurse Loman. I believe you find them beautiful.”

“I find them appropriate,” I replied.

He raised his eyebrows and I went on: “Worthy of the Castle itself.”

“You are amused by us and our ways, Nurse Loman?”

“Perhaps,” I retaliated, “I am too easily amused.”

“It is a great gift. Life becomes so much more tolerable when it amuses.”

“I have always found it very tolerable.”

He laughed. “If we amuse you,” he said, “you also amuse me.”

“I am glad. I should hate to bore you or make you melancholy.”

“I could not imagine that to be possible.”

“I feel I should sweep a curtsy and say: ‘Thank you, fair sir.'”

“You're different from so many young ladies I meet.”

“I daresay. I work for my living.”

“You are certainly a most useful member of the community. How pleasant to be both useful and decorative.”

“It is certainly pleasant to hear oneself so described.”

“Nurse Loman sounds a little stern. It doesn't fit you. I should like to think of you as something other than
Nurse
Loman.”

“You are asking my Christian name, I presume. It is Chantel.”

“Chantel. How unusual…and how delightful.”

“And more suited to me than ‘Nurse'?”

“Infinitely more.”

“Chantel Spring Loman,” I told him, and he wanted to know how I came by such a name. I told him about my mother's seeing it on the tombstone and he seemed to find that very interesting. He took me along to the greenhouses and he talked to the gardeners about the blooms which would be brought into the house during the period of the house party. He asked my advice and I gave it freely. It was flattering that he passed it on to the gardeners and said “This shall be done.”

May 21st.
There has been drama in the house these last two days. I think it had begun before I realized it. I noticed that Jane Goodwin, Valerie Stretton's maid, was worried. I asked her if she were feeling well.

“I'm quite all right, Nurse,” she said.

“I thought you looked…anxious.”

“Oh no, no,” she said, and hurried away. So I knew that something was wrong. I kept thinking about what went on in the west turret and wondering how Valerie felt about her son's return. Was she eager to see him? She must be. From all accounts he was such a fascinating fellow. His wife was madly in love with him and my dear cool Anna had been ready to fall in love with him, so surely his mother should be happy by his return. I had quickly summed up Jane as being one of those women made to serve others. I doubted she had ever had a life of her own; the center of her existence would be her mistress and friend, in this case Valerie Stretton. So if Jane were anxious I guessed something was amiss with Valerie.

It was about nine o'clock in the evening. I had given Monique her food and was reading when Jane knocked at my door.

“Oh Nurse,” she said, “do come quickly. It's Mrs. Stretton.”

I hurried to the west turret to find Valerie Stretton lying on her bed and distorted with pain. I thought I knew what was wrong and that it was what I had suspected. I turned to Jane and said: “I want Dr. Elgin at once.”

Jane ran off. There was nothing I could do. I believed it was an attack of angina and had thought “Heart” as soon as I set eyes on her.

I bent over her. “It'll soon pass. It's passing now, I believe.”

She did not speak but I think she was comforted to have me there. What startled me was the manner in which she was dressed. She wore high boots; the mud on them had stained the counterpane and her hat had half-fallen from her head. What I noticed particularly was the heavy veil which would have concealed her face. She had been out. I would not have believed that possible if I had not seen her boots and the hat. Why had she gone out dressed like that at that time of the evening?

The pain was passing. Such an attack would last about half an hour, and I knew that this was not a major attack.

But it was a warning.

Without disturbing her I removed her boots; they were very muddy. I took her hat off, but I did not take her coat from her as I did not wish to move her until the doctor had been.

When he came the attack was over. He examined her and I gently undressed her. She was too exhausted to tell him much but I described what I had seen and he looked grave.

She was to rest, he said; he wanted her to sleep.

He came into my sitting room afterward.

“Very grave, is it, Doctor?”

He nodded.

“Angina pectoris undoubtedly. I'm glad you're here, Nurse. That's if you're prepared to take on another patient.”

“I certainly am.”

“I just want you to watch her very carefully. There must be the minimum of exertion; fatigue and anxiety must be avoided, excitement too. And of course her diet must be watched. She must eat sparingly. You've probably nursed this sort of case before.”

“Yes, the one before Miss Brett was a heart.”

“Good. Now, there may not be another attack for weeks, months…or even longer. On the other hand she could have another within the hour. Give her a little brandy if there is any sign of another attack. I'll send up some nitrite of amyl. You know how to use it?”

“Five drops on a handkerchief inhaled?”

He nodded. “Was she alone when this happened?”

“No. Jane Goodwin was with her. She had just come in, though.”

“Ah, she had walked too far. She must be careful in future. She should always have close at hand a piece of cotton wool soaked with nitrite of amyl. There's a special bottle I can give you; it has a particularly tight stopper. Put the five drops on the cotton wool and the wool into the bottle; then if she feels an attack coming on and is alone she can have it all ready for use. I want her to rest for a while—and either you or Jane Goodwin will be at hand. Jane seems a sensible young woman.”

I said I was sure she was.

“All right, I'll go and see Lady Crediton and tell her the state of affairs. She should be grateful that you're installed in the house, Nurse.”

Lady Crediton, if not exactly grateful, because she would never be that to someone she paid, at least found it most convenient (her word) that I should be there.

“Dr. Elgin tells me that you will keep an eye on Mrs. Stretton, Senior,” she said, making it seem the lightest of duties. “I understand that she has a bad heart.” Her nose was lifted with disapproval, as though she was saying: “How typical of such a woman to have a bad heart at such a time!”

I thought she was as hard as the nails which were driven into the Company's “ladies” (if they do drive nails in. My knowledge of shipbuilding is nonexistent). I could see her fierce and implacable; and I wondered afresh how such a woman could ever have tolerated that situation which Sir Edward had put her into. It only went to show what a man of iron
he
must have been. And then suddenly it occurred to me that it was the Shipping Line she loved. It was Big Business, the acquisition of money. Sir Edward and she had been partners not only in marriage but in business; and if the marriage failed her, she was determined that the business never would.

***

May
24th.
There is that feeling in the air which suggests that we are moving toward some climax. I believe it is the house party which will begin on the first of June. Such activities there are throughout the Castle! Baines importantly struts (there's no other word for it) around, investigating the wine cellar, instructing the maids and informing the footmen what will be expected of them. This visit of the Derringhams is going to be important. I fancy that Rex is a little uneasy. Perhaps he doesn't relish the fair Helena Derringham. Ironical that she should be called Helena. Though Helen would have been more apt. I said something to him about the face that launched a thousand ships and he smiled a little perfunctorily, as though it were too serious a matter (or perhaps too melancholy a one) over which to joke. I gather that the matchmaking is Lady Crediton's doing. She will expect Rex to marry where
she
wishes. Poor Rex! I feel this will be something of a test for him. He has met Helena at dances when she came out two years ago, and I gather he was not exactly stunned by her charms. But of course her ladyship has a controlling interest in the business. This slipped out, too. Sir Edward left everything in her hands. He must have had a great respect for her business acumen—and I'm sure he was not a man to be mistaken. I understood that it could be very uncomfortable for Rex if he did not fall in with his Mamma's wishes. She could leave her share away from Rex if he displeased her. To the Captain? I wondered. No, that was something she would never do, I am sure. She bitterly resents Red having any shares at all; but he has a small holding; Sir Edward had left that to him and of course he would always be one of the Company's Captains. I was surprised that Rex should confide in me. But we had a rather special friendship—rather like the one I had with young Edward, perhaps. They found me different from the people they usually met. Besides, the people at the Castle do behave rather unconventionally.

***

May
25th.
My original patient is much better. She blossoms. It is the thought of the husband's return rather than my nursing, I'm sure. But it's always so with that type of patient. I have difficulty though in making her rest and keep to her diet. Oddly enough when she's excited she wants to eat more; she goes through her wardrobe and tries on her dresses—all in gay colors. She favors a flowered robe, loose and shapeless and split almost up to the knee. She looks as Edith said disapprovingly, “foreign.” Yesterday afternoon she flew into a temper because she couldn't find the sash she wanted. I thought she was going to have an attack—but we avoided that. My other patient is much more sick and I have been spending a great deal of time with her. Jane welcomes me because I think she feels I know how to treat her mistress. I asked Valerie Stretton yesterday if she had walked very far on the day she had had the attack.

“Yes, quite far,” she said cautiously.

“Farther than usual?”

“Yes, much farther.”

“You usually walk in the grounds, don't you?”

“Yes, I do, but…”

She was plucking at the bed coverlet and I thought I had better change the subject because this was exciting her too much. But was it merely fatigue, I asked myself, which had brought on the attack or was it due to some anxiety?

I discovered that she had had vague warnings before in the form of slight pains in the arms and chest. They had passed within a few minutes though and she had thought of them vaguely as some sort of rheumatism.

I said: “The thing is to avoid too much exercise. You must never overtire yourself. But I think anxiety would probably be more dangerous than anything else.”

Again that look of fear.

When I left her it was with the certainty that she had something on her mind. I wondered what, and being myself I knew I should not be happy until I found out.

***

June
6th.
I have not had time to write in my journal for nearly a fortnight, and that is not surprising. Such excitement we have had in the Castle and it is due of course to the Derringhams' visit. They arrived on the 1st—a lovely summer's day and the roses were looking quite magnificent. The gardeners had been in a fever of excitement and the lawns and the flower beds were certainly at their best. The scent of pinks filled the air and the fountain-lawn marques had been set up for the garden party which was to be the first what Edith would call “to-do.” I was longing for a glimpse of the fair Helena and when I saw her I knew why Rex was melancholy. I am sure she was a young woman who was full of virtues, but she was not exactly an attractive one. She was awkward, with large hands and feet, and walked like a woman who spends a great deal of time in the saddle—which I'm sure she did. In fact her face was rather the shape of a horse's; her laughter had an equine quality too; she neighed, one might say. She talked in a loud and piercing voice; she was a character. I wondered whether Lady Crediton had looked rather like her in her youth and then it occurred to me that Sir Edward might have felt the same reluctance as I was sure Rex was feeling now. But Sir Edward would do his duty. And there was no doubt that Lady Crediton heartily approved of Miss Derringham. How could she help it when she considered the Derringham million or so—and Sir Henry had no son. Moreover he doted on his daughter. I was glad that some people admired her for I had a notion that Rex was not being the attentive squire his mother and Helena's father expected him to be.

I was at the window watching the guests on the lawn. It was a perfect day. Even the weather had to toe the line for Lady Crediton, it seemed. The grass was even more soft and velvety than usual, and the colored dresses, the big shady hats and parasols made an enchanting picture accentuated by the dark clothes of the men. I longed to be down there among them. I pictured the dress I should wear—green as the grass and my hair should be piled high. Perhaps I would have a froth of flowers and veiling on it but nothing more, and a parasol that was a mass of green and white frills like the one I most admired down there. If I had the clothes I would go down and mingle with the guests and I would be as beautiful and amusing as any of them—and no one would know that I was merely the nurse.

“Stop it, Cinderella Loman,” I said to myself. “It's no use your looking round for a fairy godmother with a magic wand and pumpkin. You ought to have learned by now that
you
have to be your own fairy godmother.”

Monique had gone to the party. She insisted. She looked strange among those elegantly dressed women. Monique would never be elegant, only colorful. I imagined that Lady Crediton would not wish her to be there. How tiresome of her, she would think, to be well enough to attend the garden party when on almost all other occasions she was so ill that Dr. Elgin had suggested they employ a nurse!

Rex was being attentive to her, which was kind of him. He was quite fond of Redvers so I supposed he thought he should be kind to his wife.

I went along to see my other patient and I found her sitting at her turret window looking down on the scene.

“How are you today?” I asked, sitting beside her.

“I'm very well, thank you, Nurse.”

It wasn't true, of course.

“It's colorful,” I said. “Some of the ladies' dresses are really beautiful.”

“I see Miss Derringham…in blue there.”

I had a good look at her. It was the wrong shade of blue—too light; it made her fresh color look crude.

“There are hopes, I believe, that an announcement will be made during the visit,” I said, because I could never curb my curiosity enough to resist bringing up the subjects I wanted to talk about.

“It's almost a certainty,” she said.

“You think Miss Derringham will accept?”

“But of course.” She looked surprised that I could suggest anyone could possibly refuse Rex. I remembered that she had been his nurse and would have loved him as a small boy.

“It will be an excellent thing to link the two companies which is what will happen naturally. It will certainly be one of the biggest companies in the Kingdom then.”

“Very good,” I said.

“She'll be lucky. Rex was always a good boy. He deserves his good fortune. He's worked hard. Sir Edward would be proud of him.”

“So you are hoping this marriage will take place.”

She seemed surprised that I should imply there was an element of doubt.

“Yes, it will make up for Red's marriage. That is a disaster.”