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Authors: Marjorie Moore

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BOOK: Ring for the Nurse
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Ignoring the sally, Felicity spoke with a calm she was far from feeling.

We have been on the road since two, I thought Mr. Brenton might have preferred to get home and have tea quietly there.


He is all right, aren

t you, darling?

Alaine laid her hand with the bright varnished nails on his sleeve.

I knew that
you

d enjoy a stop, that

s why I suggested it,

she ended complacently.

To Felicity the arrival of tea caused a welcome break, but Alaine, who never seemed lost for words, kept the conversational ball rolling long after their cups were emptied and the plate of scones well depleted. Felicity found it difficult to hide her irritation at the unnecessary delay. Why on earth couldn

t they get the bill and move on?

At last they were back in the car, but a dull sense of frustration still filled Felicity to the exclusion of all else. She no longer had eyes for the undulating country through which they were passing, her one urge was to reach their destination.

At long last the car wound its way up a drive and stopped before a large white stone house. Felicity

s first impression was of dazzling whiteness against the profusion of green which formed its background. The curved steps leading to the balustraded terrace, which was supported by Corinthian columns, widened out to a sweeping arc as they reached the gravelled drive.

The interior seemed dark as they left the sunlight, but Felicity was aware of a stately hall of forbidding dignity and a wide oak stairway leading to a gallery above.

The man-servant who had admitted them stepped back as a tall figure rose from an arm-chair beside the log fire and advanced with hands outstretched in welcome, The likeness to Guy Brenton was too marked for Felicity to have any doubt as to relationship of the two men; although the older
man
was now white-haired, the brown eyes beneath bushy brows were the replica of his son

s. Despite his years and his height, he held himself well and there was something of a military bearing in the squared set of his shoulders.

After greeting his son he turned a kindly smile to Alaine.

Well, my dear, I

m glad to see you, you are nearly a stranger, it

s been so long since we

ve had the pleasure of your company.


This is Nurse Dene, Father,

Guy Brenton interrupted.

She has been looking after me the past weeks and has come down for a few days to complete the job. Nurse, this is my Father, Colonel Brenton.


Then you are very welcome.

The old man grasped
Felicity

s hand warmly in his own.

I can imagine just how much help you have been to my son.

Felicity murmured her appreciation of the remark, then was forced to silence by Alaine

s eager flow of words.

I certainly haven

t been down for ages, but I

ve been so busy—Guy must have told you—I

ve got the lead in Fettle

s new film. We

ve nearly finished shooting now, we

re on the last scenes but I

ve been kept at the studio all day and half the night, it

s the most exhausting work—you

ve no idea! I

m worn out, I couldn

t have gone on another moment, I

d have had a nervous breakdown.

She gave a low laugh.

I threatened them with that—that soon did the trick! Believe me they can

t afford to have me ill, so I

ve wrangled a few days off to come down here and look after Guy.

She slipped her arm affectionately round Guy Brenton

s waist as he stood at her side.

You go up to your room, don

t bother to change tonight, it

s hardly worth it, but hurry down again, darling, and then you

ll have time to give me a drink before dinner.

With a sudden burst of courage, bo
rn
of her still smouldering resentment, Felicity spoke. So involuntary was the protest that she was surprised by her own temerity.

Mr. Brenton will not be coming down again this evening, he will get straight to bed and dine quietly in his room.

Guy Brenton had already turned towards the stairway before she had spoken, she could not even be sure that he had heard her words. Alaine seemed for once stunned into silence, but as Colonel Brenton looked at her there was no mistaking the deliberate wink of one eye beneath the shaggy brow and the twinkling smile of understanding which accompanied it. That momentary glance told Felicity without doubt that whatever difficulties she might have to face at Weir Court, in the Colonel she had found a staunch and faithful ally.

 

CHAPTER
TWELVE

Guy Brenton had walked up the stairway so slowly that by the time he had turned down a narrow gallery flanking one side of the wide hall, Felicity was already close behind. She was aware
of a
moment’s indecision as he flung open
the
door of one of the rooms and made to enter. It was doubtless his bedroom and she found herself wondering whether as his nurse, she entered to offer what assistance she could or—in her present position—did she await an invitation! Perhaps, after all, Matron had been right, there was more to being a private nurse than she had believed, it was a pity she had not listened more carefully to her instructions, although she still wondered whether they would have dealt with circumstances exactly like these. Throwing discretion to the winds, Felicity firmly and deliberately followed on Guy Brenton’s heels, allowing him no chance of closing the door in her face.

The room was so austerely formal with its thick pile carpet and heavy antique furniture that, despite its mellowed beauty, it seemed to Felicity quite awe-inspiring, but the bright log fire burning in the open grate supplied a pleasant warmth, and a deep armchair drawn up before the blaze looked homely and inviting. With a confidence she was far from feeling she walked directly past Guy Brenton, who still stood within the doorway, and crossed to the fire.


It

s quite chilly now, it

s lovely to see a fire.

She held out her hands towards the flames, then, since her statement had brought no reply, she went on,

Shall I pull the curtains, it will help to warm the room and it

s already quite dusk.


Do as you like.

The words were ungracious and as she held out her hand to take his overcoat which he was removing, he entirely ignored the gesture and flung it carelessly across the foot of the bed.

Turning way, Felicity crossed to the tall windows. For a moment she paused as if reluctant to shut out the afterglow of sunset which still bathed the hills and valleys in a golden haze and edged the clouds with a soft pink radiance. The sheer beauty of the evening filled her heart with joy, yet, underlying all, she was conscious of a deep sense of depression and uncertainty. If she had annoyed Guy Brenton with her highhanded action, then why didn

t he say so, subject her to some of his scathing criticism to which she was well accustomed? She could bear anything rather than this aloof silence. What a dismal end to all the high hopes with which she had started the day, how different it had all turned out from what she had fondly imagined, and she knew, without doubt, that Alaine Jason

s presence had proved the disturbing factor. The worst of it was that she couldn

t actually put into words A
l
aine

s failings, she had never by word or action been anything but charming, perhaps a little patronizing at times, but three years at St. Edwin

s had inured Felicity to that.


Aren

t you going to pull the curtains?


Of course.

Recalling herself from her reverie, Felicity carefully drew the heavy brocade curtains across the window. Unconsciously playing for time, she carefully arranged the folds, then u
n
able to find further evasion, turned to face her companion.

Guy Brenton was already seated in the arm-chair, his legs thrust out before him and his injured arm resting along the upholstered side of the chair. He leaned forward as she approached and with his left hand searched his pockets.

Seen my pipe anywhere, was it on me or did you pack it?


It

s in your suit-case—shall I unpack?


Just as you like—although Mackerley would do it later. I expect he is helping with the dinner at the moment—he is father

s old batman, wonderful chap, there is nothing he can

t turn his hand to.

He was actually engaging her in conversation, that was at least a relief, but determined not to meet him half-way, Felicity resolutely maintained a silence while, acting on his grudgingly given permission, she commenced to unpack the suit-case, placing everything in its appropriate place. It was not until the task was finished and the empty suit
c
ase stowed away at the back of the built-in cupboard, that she brought over his pipe.

Here it is, can you manage or shall I help you fill it?


O

Brien used to do it for me, I doubt if you can.


I expect I can manage as well as he, my father smoked a pipe, he lost three of his finge
r
s in the war so I learned to do it for him.

Felicity spoke without any show of emotion as,
packing the
tobacco
into the bowl, she carefully pressed it down.

Here are the matches, you can deal with those, can

t you?


Yes, thanks.

He took the proffered pipe and drew at it slowly as he applied a lighted match.

Don

t bother with me any more, don

t you want to go to your own room? If there is anything you want, just ring, I expect there is some
kind of housemaid, but get hold of Mackerley if there is anything you seriously need.


Then I

ll find Mackerley now and ask him about your dinner-tray.

Felicity was by now indifferent to the storm which would probably burst over her head.


As you like.

The reply was so unexpectedly docile that Felicity had difficulty in concealing her amazement; to cover her surprise, she spoke quickly, and with an instinctive feeling that, if she wanted to get her way, this was a propitious moment to press her point.

Then I suggest you get into bed now, I

ve put your pyjamas and dressing-gown ready.


I

ll change in a moment, but I

m very comfortable sitting here.

Felicity felt it might be unwise to
argue, she

d achieved more than she

d dared hope and was content to let it rest at that. She placed his gown and slippers within easy reach, then turned to the door.

Have you any idea which room
I

m in?


Next door—at least I noticed Mackerley taking your case in there, I suppose he felt the invalid might feel happier with his nurse close at hand.

There was a note of sarcasm in his voice which brought the ready flush to Felicity

s cheek. He hadn

t spoken in these tones for so long now, and these last two days he had shown a marked degree of cheerfulness since she had managed to instil into him some of the confidence she herself possessed. With unflagging effort she had continued surreptitiously to encourage him to use his fingers—more and more, until she knew that he too shared her optimism. Today everything had changed and she was right back where she had started, shut out and helpless, since, without his co-operation, how could she be of help?

The room allocated to Felicity was a smaller replica of the bedroom she had just left. Little seemed to have been done to Weir Court to bring it in line with the more
modern
type of country house and even the fitted basin looked incongruous, wedged between an antique tallboy and an enormous oak closet, which Felicity felt must surely date back to the Norman Conquest! The first impression was but short-lived, the strange room was quickly growing on her, its unfriendly air was already vanishing, and in its
place she began to feel a sense of comfort as if the shining wood, mellowed with years of polish, held out its arms to her in understanding and welc
o
me.

Felicity was glad to strip off her jacket and blouse and bathing her face and hands was certainly refreshing, but having completed the essential parts of her toilet, the vexed question arose as to what she was expected to wear! If only Diana had been there with her ready advice and reassuring manner. Alaine had said something about not dressing—goodness knows exactly what she

d meant by that. At home they had always changed at night, not into formal wear unless visitors had been expected, but certainly into some light garment which added to one

s relaxation at the end of the day. Felicity carefully inspected the choice at her disposal, then discarding them all, donned one of her freshly starched uniform dresses. She smiled to herself as she tucked a wave of hair
beneath her starched cap. Sister wouldn

t be there to criticize so perhaps she need not be quite so discreet, she reminded herself as she pulled forward more hair behind each ear. Diana would be furious with her if she knew she was wearing uniform. Felicity imagined her friend

s reactions when she confessed her weakness, then, with a smile still dimpling the
corner
s of her lips, she left the room, dosing the door gently behind her.

She

d scarcely any idea of the layout of the house as yet, but
Felicity
felt sure there must be some
staircase other
tha
n
the one which led into the lounge. A peep over the balustrade of the balcony had told her that the Colonel was seated in the arm-chair from which he had risen to greet them; she couldn

t see if he

d adopted formal dress, but a black velvet jacket had replaced the Harris tweed he had been wearing on their arrival. Alaine was there too, fa
ci
ng
Felicity

s direction. The smart brown two-piece she had trav
e
led in was now replaced by a creation of wine-red silk which, almost reached her ankles, revealed a narrow instep and high-heeled satin slippers to match. The deep colour of her dress enhanced the creamy olive
of her skin and the coiled knot of dark hair reflected the light of the glowing fire. She really was attractive,
Felicity
thought as, moving carefully so that the starched crackle of her uniform might not betray her, she set out to seek another stairway.

Her guess had been right and a moment later she stood outside a baize door which undoubtedly gave on to the kitchen quarters. A warm aroma of roasting assailed her nostrils as she ventured through the dividing door and as she entered the kitchen the savoury smell became even more pronounced.


May I come in—just for a moment?

BOOK: Ring for the Nurse
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