Marrying Miss Hemingford (25 page)

‘It must go back to the house,' Justin said, bending over the child. ‘No time to explore it now, we have to get out of here before the tide cuts us off.' He clambered back down the steep slope and once he was standing at the bottom, held up his arms. ‘Let her down gently. I'll catch her.'

They were soon all three on the beach. Justin picked up the child and splashed his way back through the rising water to the cliff path, with Anne close behind him. Once safely at the top, he put Tildy down and dropped on to the grass beside her. Anne, coming fast behind, sprawled beside them.

‘Thank God you would not give up,' he said, breathlessly. ‘If you had not insisted…'

She knew what he meant. The poor child could have been there on the ledge all night, might even have tried to jump down and been drowned. ‘She is safe, that's all that matters.'

‘It was a big fire,' Tildy said, gazing up at the ruin. She did not seem surprised.

‘Yes, a very big fire,' he said. ‘But what happened to you? Were you in the house when it started?'

‘Oh, yes, I heard the flames and I tried to get out, but I couldn't. It was so hot and smoky and I didn't like it.'

‘How did you get out?'

‘The girl showed me. She did this…' She stopped to make a beckoning motion with her hand and arm. ‘So I went after her. She went through a door and down a tunnel. It was dark and wet, but I knew she was helping me so I didn't mind. It came out by the sea. But I couldn't get down.'

‘Was it the same little girl you saw before?' Anne asked.

‘Course it was.'

‘What happened to her?'

‘I dunno. I reckon she went back. I didn't see her no more.' She looked round. ‘Where's Ma?'

‘She is at Dr Tremayne's, waiting for you. Do you think you can walk that far?'

‘Course I can. I walked here, didn' I?'

Justin and Anne smiled at each other; they had been touched by magic that afternoon, divine intervention. Taking a hand each, they led the child away from the ruin and back to the real world.

T
ildy's dramatic rescue was the talk of the town—not only that she was saved but the manner of it. There was much speculation about the little girl who was supposed to have led her to safety and the story of little Susan gathered fresh credence. Anne was ambivalent, but both Dr Tremayne and Mrs Smith maintained that the little girl was the product of Tildy's imagination and that Tildy had somehow found the tunnel by accident and escaped down it. Whichever it was, Mrs Smith was overjoyed to have her daughter back safe and sound.

Her hands were badly burned and her hair scorched, but if it had not been for the doctor she would have died and she could not find words enough to thank him. He did not want thanks, he wanted answers and, as soon as she was well enough, he questioned her closely.

‘I did not light a fire,' she told him. ‘I only did that if I needed hot water and that day I had decided to clean the upstairs windows.'

He had gone to visit her at her home where she was
convalescing to find Anne already there, shrouded in an apron, administering beef tea to the invalid, in spite of her protests that a lady like her should not be doing such a thing. ‘And there was nothing inflammable about?'

‘No, I do not think so.'

‘Paint,' Anne said suddenly. ‘I was told it would be delivered that day. That would burn well, would it not?'

‘Yes, and so would wood shavings. The men had been to repair the stairs…'

‘I swept it all up,' Mrs Smith said. ‘And the paint was in the front hall, ready to be taken up by the workmen when they arrived.'

‘Where did you put the shavings?'

‘In a heap beside the fireplace in the kitchen. I thought it would be good for kindling. But there was no fire, I swear it.'

‘Did you see anyone? Apart from the delivery men?'

‘I do not think so. Why do you ask?'

‘I don't know,' he said, looking grim. ‘But someone had a naked flame. Houses do not usually combust on their own.'

‘I swear I didn't do it.' Mrs Smith was becoming agitated.

‘We know it wasn't you,' he said, bending to touch her hand. ‘Why, if it had not been for you, the house would not have been ready…'

‘Now it's gone.'

‘Yes.'

‘What are you going to do?'

‘I don't know. It is too soon to say. But I shall think of something. What is more important is that you should get
well, let those hands heal. No housework or working with the bathing machines. If you need help…'

‘No, thank you. I have my husband and Tom and good friends nearby. And Tildy does her best…'

‘Where is she?' Anne asked.

‘In the yard, I think. I sent her to fetch water.'

Anne left them and went in search of the little girl. She was struggling to carry a pail which, in spite of being only half-full, was more than she could manage. The water was slopping everywhere. Anne took it from her. ‘Tildy, come and say goodbye to the doctor. We are leaving now.'

She ran into the house ahead of Anne and scrambled on to her mother's bed, being very careful not to knock her bandaged hands. ‘Ma will soon be better, won't she?' she asked Justin.

‘Yes, very soon,' he answered, smiling. ‘I am sure you are a great help to her.'

‘Yes, but I wish she had come down the tunnel with the girl and me, then she wouldn't be burnt, would she?'

‘No.' He paused, wondering whether it might upset her to question her, but she seemed none the worse for her adventure, and was bright as a button. ‘Tildy, did you see anyone near the house before the fire started?'

‘There was a cart—'

‘The men delivering the paint,' Mrs Smith put in.

‘To be sure. Any others, Tildy?'

‘Two men came up the path from the sea. I saw them from a window upstairs.'

‘Did you see them again?'

‘I heard Ma calling me, but there was smoke and flames and I was frightened. Then the little girl took me
down the tunnel…' She paused before adding, ‘They got in a boat…'

‘You saw them while you were waiting for us to find you?'

‘Yes. They were running. I shouted, but they didn't hear me. I wanted to go home…'

‘Of course you did. Do not think any more about it. You are safe and so is your mother.' He patted her head. ‘Now we must go, but I want you to promise to come for me if you need me. Will you do that?'

‘Yes.'

He extracted a guinea from the pocket of his tailcoat and laid it on the table beside the bed, smiling at Mrs Smith. ‘Your wages.'

‘But I can't take all that.'

‘I shall be offended if you do not. You were injured working for me and for that you must be recompensed.'

‘Take it,' Anne whispered, bending over her as Justin made for the door. ‘I'll see he does not lose by it.' She hugged Tildy and followed Justin from the house.

‘You think it was arson, don't you?' she said as they walked. It was only two days since the fire, but their relationship had subtly changed. It was as if the raging furnace in their hearts had burned itself out, just as the house had done. No longer were they consumed by heat one minute and coolly distant the next. Passion and resentment had given way to a calm acceptance of their destiny, whatever that might turn out to be. Without needing to speak of it, they had both realised that life was too short, too ephemeral, to waste it in quarrelling. They were left with the knowledge of each other as people who cared.
Whether the caring was for the sick, the poor, or each other, was of no consequence, it was simply part of the whole.

Another result of the fire and its aftermath was that Aunt Bartrum had ceased to rail against Anne's hoydenish ways. She had been terrified by the conflagration and knew how easily she could have lost her beloved niece, and that gave her pause for thought. Anne was Anne and there was no sense in trying to change her. Her friends, like her, must learn to accept that. And so Anne did her visiting and came and went to the doctor's house, without a word said against it. Even today, clad in a serviceable gingham dress the colour of a summer sky, a dark blue pelisse and a plain bonnet, she was walking beside him without the benefit of a chaperon.

‘I fear so. What Tildy said seems to confirm it.'

‘But who were the two men? Have you any idea?'

‘No, but their identity is not important. They would have been paid to do their mischief by someone else.'

‘But who would want to prevent you opening your hospital? Who wants you to fail so badly they are willing to risk lives to bring it about?'

‘I don't know.'

She risked a glance at him. He was looking grimly determined and she could not help feeling that he did know, even if he did not intend to tell her. ‘What are you going to do?'

‘Nothing I can do, is there? Without proof…'

‘I meant about the hospital.'

‘There is no hospital. Perhaps it was never meant to be.'

‘How can you say so? It is needed. The house can be rebuilt.'

He gave a cracked laugh. ‘What with? We have spent nearly all the money the good people of Brighton donated. There is nothing left.'

‘Justin Tremayne, I am surprised at you. The people gave their money for a hospital and some of them could ill afford it. Are you saying they might as well have set fire to it themselves? Shame on you.'

He turned in surprise at her vehemence. ‘What would you have me do? Start all over again?'

‘Why not? I had not taken you for a quitter, not even when Mrs Tremayne said you were.'

He stopped in his tracks to turn towards her. ‘When did she say that?'

‘The night of Lady Mancroft's rout. She said you had wild fancies to do things, which did not last. She implied being a doctor was one and you would give up the idea of a hospital at the first hurdle…'

‘Do you believe that?'

‘I do not want to, but what I believe is unimportant. It is what the people believe, people like Mrs Smith. She gave what to her would have been a fortune and you owe it to her to carry on.'

He laughed suddenly. ‘You know, George Harrison said, “Once Miss Anne Hemingford goes on the march, there is no stopping her.” I begin to believe him.'

She was amused rather than angry. ‘Then let us march on together. There is the Grand Ball next Monday, that will make a start.'

They walked on towards his house, now one of the few
still standing in the street. Where would he go when it was demolished? Cliff House could not be rebuilt in time. ‘I will find temporary accommodation,' he said, as they picked their way over rubble. ‘Someone will take pity on me.'

Anne knew better than to offer financial help; he was too proud to take it from her, but she could send an anonymous donation to the fund, though not so substantial as to arouse suspicion. The whole idea of the hospital from the start was that it was to be funded by public money. The people of Brighton also had their pride.

She stayed only long enough to exchange pleasantries with Professor Harrison, who had been true to his word and was working with the patients, then set off for home.

 

Mrs Bartrum was entertaining Lady Mancroft and the Major. The Major was looking rather put out and silent, while his mother was trying to quiz Mrs Bartrum about the fire. ‘There has not been so much excitement in town since the Regent cast off Mrs Fitzherbert to marry Caroline,' she was saying as Anne came into the room ‘And what a disaster that turned out to be.'

‘Ah, there you are, Anne,' her aunt said, apparently relieved to have support. ‘I have been telling her ladyship that we do not know how the fire started. Have you learned any more this morning?'

‘No, but Mrs Smith is adamant she had no fire in the grate and two men were seen running away down the cliffs to a boat.'

‘Arson?' queried the Major, emerging from his brown study.

‘Doctor Tremayne thinks it may be.'

‘But who would do such a thing?' Mrs Bartrum queried. ‘Having a hospital can surely not harm anyone. It was meant for the benefit of all.'

‘Smollett,' he said. ‘I'll wager it was revenge. He was very angry…'

‘Oh, surely not?' Anne said. ‘If he wanted revenge, he would surely have taken it against me. I am the one who accused him.'

‘Oh, no!' Mrs Bartrum put both hands to her heart. ‘He must have thought you were in the house. Oh, Anne!'

‘This is pure conjecture,' Anne said, refusing to be rattled. ‘You are no doubt maligning the man. And you cannot accuse people without proof.'

‘All the same, I think I will make some enquiries,' the Major went on. ‘In the meantime, Miss Hemingford, please do not go out without an escort.'

‘This is ridiculous,' Anne said. ‘No one is out to harm me. It is the hospital they attacked,
if
they attacked it, and we cannot even be sure of that, and we mean to rebuild it as soon as we can raise more funds.'

‘But will the people give again, do you think?' Lady Mancroft questioned.

‘If it is put to them that to give up would be to waste what had already been donated. We must simply redouble our efforts. The Grand Ball will afford us an opportunity to judge the mood of people.'

‘Charles, you must speak to the Regent again,' her ladyship commanded him. ‘If we could obtain his public support…'

‘More than that, his financial backing,' Anne added.

‘To be sure, with his backing, we might encourage the more well-breeched among our friends to be generous.'

‘I will do what I can. It depends on his mood…'

‘Oh, then I will do it,' his mother said, with a light laugh. ‘He is known to be susceptible to the more mature woman and I can turn on the charm when I choose.'

‘Thank you, my lady,' Anne said. ‘You are kindness itself.'

It was only after they had gone that her aunt said, ‘I wonder if she will be as kind when she discovers I have rejected her son?'

‘He asked you again? I thought you said he had accepted your first refusal?'

‘I thought he had, but he arrived today before her ladyship in order to press me. Anne, I had to be most strict with him.'

‘And is he convinced?'

‘Oh, yes, he is now.' She blushed prettily. ‘I told him I had accepted Captain Gosforth.'

‘Aunt Georgie! Is this true?'

‘Yes. He was here earlier.'

‘Then let me felicitate you and wish you happy.' Anne left her seat to hug her aunt. ‘I am so happy for you. When shall you announce it?'

‘Oh it does not need announcing, we shall simply tell our friends when we meet. I do not want to puff myself up when you are still single. Everyone will think me a very poor matchmaker when I look to myself before my charge.'

‘Gammon! I am as pleased as punch.'

‘Anne, I wish—'

‘No more, Aunt.'

‘You are still determined to help raise more money for Dr Tremayne and the hospital, are you?' she asked, with a strange switch of direction.

‘Yes. I cannot desert him now, even if it means staying in Brighton a little longer than we planned, but I do not suppose you mind that now, when there is so much to keep you here.'

Aunt Bartrum laughed. ‘Yes, but I must go back to Cumbria before long to settle my affairs. There is the house… I can see no reason to keep it. Unless…' She paused. ‘Would you like it? It would delight me to sign it over to you, to give you a home of your own.'

‘Oh, Aunt, how can you be so generous to me when I cause you nothing but grief?'

‘My dearest girl, I cannot change you and it was wicked of me to think I could. But if you are determined to remain single…' She let the word die on the air.

Anne loved the house in Cumbria. She and Harry had spent many happy times staying with their aunt there. It would make a wonderful bolthole for when all this fuss about the hospital died down. If Justin did not want her for a wife, and it seemed he did not, she would need somewhere to lick her wounds. ‘Oh, Aunt Georgie, thank you, thank you so much. But do you mind if we leave the decision until after the ball?'