Sylvia Andrew – Reawakening Miss Calverley (страница 2)

His deep voice was calm. ‘My name is James Aldhurst. This is my grandmother’s house. We found you lying unconscious outside in the rain, and I gathered you up and brought you in here.’ She seemed to be looking for reassurance and he added, ‘Don’t worry. You’re quite safe.’

She shut her eyes and said, ‘My head hurts. I think I fell…I was running…I couldn’t get up the bank…’ Her eyes flew open again and this time they were filled with panic. She struggled to move, but gave up with a cry of despair. ‘I can’t…My head! Oh, my head! But I have to…’ Clawing at his arm, she said, ‘Help me! Please help me! Don’t let them catch me! Please!’

The desperation in her voice startled him. He took hold of her hand. ‘I told you. You’re safe here. I shan’t let them find you. Lie still. The surgeon will be here very soon to look at you, and if he says you can be moved we shall make you more comfortable. But you must stay still for the moment.’ The blue eyes stared into his, then she gave a small nod, winced and closed her eyes again. Her hand fell away from his.

James looked at her anxiously. The hand had been icy. Where was Liston? And why was Mrs Culver taking so long? He went to take the girl’s hand again to warm it, but was shocked into an exclamation when he saw a band of rubbed skin, red and sore, encircling the slender wrist. He picked up the other hand and it was the same. He replaced them both carefully under the shawl and frowned. This girl had evidently been tied up till quite recently, and her bonds had been cruelly tight. What had been going on? Who was she? How had she come to be lying in the middle of his grandmother’s drive at eight o’clock on a storm-driven night? He shook his head and got up impatiently. The answers to those questions must wait. What was needed at the moment was help for the poor wretch! Where the devil was Mrs Culver? He went into the hall and shouted.

Mrs Culver came down the stairs followed by a maidservant struggling with a quantity of blankets. Almost in the same moment the house door opened, and Sam appeared, accompanied by Dr Liston.

‘Thank God! Come this way, Liston. We need you too, Mrs Culver. Thank you, Sam. You’d better go and change out of those wet clothes.’

The surgeon followed James into the room and they went over to the sofa. But, after telling the maid to stay with the surgeon while he examined his patient, Mrs Culver drew James to one side and spoke to him firmly in a low voice. ‘Your lordship, I’ve known you since you were a boy and witnessed a good many of your pranks. I’ve even saved you once or twice from their consequences. I’ll be frank with you, sir. Your grandmother trusts me to look after this house when she’s away. I’m not sure she’d approve of what’s going on here tonight. This young woman—who is she?’

‘I don’t know, Cully. Sam and I found her lying on the drive not far from the house. What would you have had me do? Leave her there?’

‘You didn’t need to bring a beggar woman like her into your grandmother’s sitting room! She might even be a gipsy! I don’t like to think what Lady Aldhurst would say. And here you are, ruining her furniture with that girl’s wet clothes and muddy boots, putting her in one of the best bedrooms, giving her your grandmother’s clothes to wear, calling Dr Liston out at this time of night to see to her…What has come over you?’

‘She’s no beggar, Cully. She’s in some kind of trouble, but she’s no beggar. There’s a mystery here and I intend to get to the bottom of it, but before that we must keep her alive. Is the bedroom ready? If Liston gives the word, I’d like to take her upstairs.’ He turned back to the sofa, and Dr Liston straightened up, looking grave.

‘As far as I can tell there’s no serious damage apart from that bang on the head—but it was a hefty one.’ He gave James a strange look. ‘Her wrists…’

‘I’ve seen them.’

The surgeon nodded. ‘Sam tells me you found her lying on the drive, and from the look of her I’d say she had been there for some time.’ He shook his head. ‘I

don’t know, Lord Aldhurst. I don’t know. I can’t do any more for her tonight, but I’ll come back tomorrow morning. For now she needs a warm bed with hot bricks and blankets, and complete rest. It’s quite likely she’ll develop a fever. I’ll send my man over with a paregoric draught, and if she is restless you could try giving her some of that. But my best advice would be to give her water, nothing more. And keep her well wrapped up.’ He shook his head. ‘We shall have to see.’

James nodded. ‘There’s a bed ready for her. Mrs Culver?’

The housekeeper had been looking at the girl, who was now lying white and still, a vivid bruise on her temple. ‘She looks very ill, it’s true, the poor thing. We’ll put her to bed. I’ll have one of the men carry her upstairs.’

‘I’ll carry her up,’ said James. ‘She needs gentle handling.’

Mrs Culver pursed her lips, but said nothing, and, signing to the maidservant to follow her, she set off up the broad staircase. ‘We’ve put your…guest in the green bedroom, my lord,’ she said, at her most formal. Mrs Culver had not yet been won over, and wished him to know it, but she would keep her opinions to herself in front of the younger servants. ‘If your lordship would put her on the bed, Rose and I will see to the rest.’ And, before he could say anything, she went on, ‘We will handle her as gently as we can, my lord, never fear.’ She waited till James had put the girl down, then firmly ushered him out of the room. ‘I shall let you know when we have finished,’ she said as she shut the door.

James went along to his own bedchamber where one of the servants was waiting with dry clothing, but he hardly noticed what the man was doing. His mind was full of the girl he had just rescued. During that brief moment of consciousness she had appealed to him so desperately, had clung to him as if he was her only hope. Why was she so afraid?

He waited impatiently for word from Mrs Culver, and when it came he wasted no time but went along straight away to the green bedroom. They had bathed the girl’s face and hands and put her in one of his grandmother’s lace-trimmed nightgowns. Her wrists were neatly bandaged and lay on top of the covers, which were otherwise pulled up around her. She was quite still, her eyes closed.

‘She shouldn’t be left alone,’ said Mrs Culver. ‘I’ll have one of the maids sit with her tonight.’

‘It’s all right, Cully. I’ll stay.’

‘You can’t do that, my lord! It’s not fitting—’

‘Cully, you might as well save your breath,’ James said impatiently. ‘You’ve known me long enough to know when I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to sit with that girl tonight. She might recover consciousness at any time, and I must be there when she does. Mine is the only face here she might recognise.’

‘How would she do that, my lord?’

‘She was conscious for a moment or two while you were upstairs, and I spoke to her. She was frightened out of her life. She is obviously in some danger—you must have seen her wrists before you bound them up.

Now don’t argue with me. Just inform all the servants that they are not to talk about our visitor to anyone—anyone at all. Until we know more of the circumstances her presence here must be kept secret. Understood?’

When James spoke in that particular tone, Mrs Culver knew better than to argue. ‘Very well, my lord, I’ll make sure they hold their tongues. I’ll send a maid to you in a while to see if there’s anything you need.’ She went out, closing the door softly behind her.

James adjusted the lamp so that its light did not fall on the figure on the bed, and sat for a while, studying the girl’s face in the dim light. Not conventionally pretty. A short, straight nose, a generous mouth, beautifully modelled cheekbones…The chin was a little too determined for prettiness. She lay so still—what would animation do to that face? Would she simper at him as much as most of the girls he met nowadays? He rather thought not. There was intelligence in the brow and firmness in the line of her jaw. If anything, she might be a touch too independent for most men…

He shook his head and got up impatiently. What nonsense! How could he possibly judge any girl’s character, just from the sculpted lines of a face as white and as motionless as the pillow behind? When she recovered she would probably prove to be no different from all the rest…He stood for a moment, looking down at her. The movement of the covers was almost imperceptible, but there was enough to reassure him. She was breathing.

He walked over to the window. The storm was now quite over, and the fields and hedges were silvered with moonlight. Nothing stirred. He wondered what his grandmother would say if she knew he was standing here in the middle of the night keeping watch over a sick girl, a perfect stranger? Something trenchant, no doubt. She had been annoyed enough with him before he left. Those damned newspapers! He stared at the scene outside with unseeing eyes, even forgot the girl in the bed behind him. He was back in London in his grandmother’s room in London. She was sitting as always in her chair by the window looking out over Brook Street…