Chapter Nine

The gentleman garbed in dark colors lounged back in his chair in the gaming hell at Lincolns Inn Fields, observing the play. He was sitting out this hand, not being one to throw his blunt away. His saturnine face was closed and sour as if his inner thoughts were not pleasant, and his long white fingers tapped rhythmically on the arm of his chair.

“Damn you. Can’t you stop that?” one of the players asked irritably.

The man’s face altered subtly, but not for the good. “What is it, Berkley?” he sneered. “The cards not going your way again?”

“You should know,” Berkley muttered.

“What do you mean by that?” The icy, threatening tone was enough to send chills down the stiffest spine.

****

The following day found Robert a little better. A good night’s sleep seemed to have strengthened him and eased some of his pain. When Helena arrived at Stafford House, she watched him carefully from the doorway. The rain had stopped at last, and he was propped up in bed gazing out of the window, feasting his eyes on England’s spring greenery.

She knocked gently, and he swiveled in the bed, smothering an exclamation of pain as he turned. Stretching out his hand to her he murmured, “How often I longed to see England on such a morning as this.”

“Was it all so very dreadful Robert?” she inquired hesitantly.

“Oh no, Helena. Not all of it. The men in my company are the best of fellows, loyal to their division and to each other. We are rather like a big, mismatched family with a few squabbles now and again. Of course there are one or two who er—” he sought for a description which would not offend Helena’s ears and she smiled covertly in appreciation “—are not so trustworthy, and of course we had our share of drunkards and deserters, but on the whole we could depend on one another.”

After which he lapsed into a brown study.

When Helena quizzed him about the countryside in Portugal, he became lyrical. “Don’t I wish you could see it, Ellie! I know you would love the massive cork trees and the fertile soil in the river valleys. And the cities and small towns with such romantic names.” He trembled and lay back on his pillows, exhausted.

Helena saw how much he longed to be back there and was stunned. Somehow she had imagined that, after the rigors of war in a foreign country, he would be relieved to return to England. However, when necessity had dictated army life as his calling it had obviously done him a great favor. After a few minutes he added, “Of course the forced marches over dried up plains, and mile upon mile of devastation where Boney’s army had been before us was ghastly. Naturally the country folk were hostile and treacherous. For the foot soldiers it was hell, just putting one foot in front of the other, mile after mile. It was fine for me with two mounts to choose from.” He frowned, looking back in his mind’s eye. “The retreat from Corunna was appalling. Endless tracks of blood-sodden snow—never mind,” he finished as he seemed to recall who he was talking to. Then he added, “I’ve let my brigade down, getting injured like this and leaving them behind to regroup.”

Helena realized that this was at the heart of his depression. She did not know how to contend with such a thing.

He moved restlessly in the bed, and she raised him up on his pillows to make him more comfortable.

“Robert,” she asked hesitantly. “Would you go back?”

“I don’t know, Ellie. I don’t know. More needs to be done at this end, in England, by way of preparation. I’ve already heard talk back here in the hospital that Sir John Moore ‘failed’, but I think the ‘failure’ started back here. Not enough preparation was done, and most of us felt that the French knew what our plans were. Boney definitely has some good spies in England.”

As she eased back on to her chair, Helena stared at him, startled. “I had not thought of that! Mr. Yardley mentioned something of that sort.”

“Yes. Stafford has already mentioned Yardley’s ideas to me. It seems Sir Ivor and Mr. Yardley are in the minority though.”

Helena was unsure what he meant and remained silent.

For a while Robert lapsed into a daydream but roused himself to exclaim that he had not even asked her how she went on. He was the most thoughtless of brothers!

She soothed him because he seemed to be easily agitated. “My position with the Yardleys is all that could be desired, Robert. They have been very kind to me. And my future looks secure. It is possible that when either Ariadne or Caroline marries, I shall go with them. So you may be settled in your mind about me. I say, wasn’t it kind of the Staffords to organize your convalescence? No doubt you will be seeing both Ned and Tally Wishart in the next few days.”

She sidetracked him and prattled on until she had soothed him into a restless slumber. She sat quietly by as he slept, holding his hand. He must never suspect that she was unhappy with her lot in life. He was not well enough to cope emotionally or physically with his own future, and it would be cruel to hint at her own despair.

Her arm was beginning to ache from holding it extended on the coverlet and she was wriggling about on her chair when there was a gentle tap on the door and Sir Ivor and Mrs. Annerwith entered, followed by an elderly, dapper man with a spiked gray beard.

“Miss Marshfield.” Sir Ivor spoke softly. “I have brought Sir William Fox to see you both.” Helena disentangled her fingers and rose. Robert did not even stir.

They adjourned to the landing where Sir William made her acquaintance and asked her how she thought Robert was doing.

“Sir William, I agree with Sir Ivor that Robert is quite pulled from his journey from the hospital at Portsmouth. But he has always been strong physically. He is not in good heart, however. He feels he has let his men down by being shipped home. Unfortunately I know very little about his injuries so I cannot be of much help to you.” Sir William nodded shrewdly, watching her all the while from underneath his jutting eyebrows.

“You sound like a sensible woman,” he said gruffly. “Your brother will take no harm with you. Now I have to wake him up.” Nodding dismissively, he entered the bedroom and closed the door.

Helena remained on the landing, worriedly twisting her hands this way and that while Mrs. Annerwith and Sir Ivor communicated in low whispers.

“Come, Miss Marshfield.” Mrs. Annerwith gestured to Helena to follow her downstairs.

“No, no. I must wait to hear Sir William’s opinion,” Helena protested.

Sir Ivor took her arm and urged her toward the staircase. “Sir William and I will be with you directly,” he promised.

The man seemed to enjoy ordering her about, and she drew herself up ready to take back the reins. “I know,” he said. “It’s difficult when one is an autocrat to meet another such.”

“I, an autocrat?” She bridled, then realized he was trying to divert her from her worry. She smiled wanly.

“But of course, Miss Marshfield. I know you are an autocrat and a martinet,” he said, guiding her down the staircase. “I have it on the best of authority from Miss Yardley.”

Helena snorted indelicately. “Not nearly as autocratic as I should like to be with Ariadne,” she said unguardedly, and he laughed delightedly, throwing his head back.

“Yes, I can well imagine that your task there is extremely difficult. A high-spirited young woman to say the least. Take a seat in the library, and Mrs. Annerwith will fetch you some coffee. As soon as I can, I shall bring Sir William to you.” Again, she found herself out-maneuvered, but with kind intent. She was amused at his description of Ariadne as ‘high-spirited’. He must have a deep regard for Ariadne if he thought her wildness could be termed ‘high-spirited’. Spoilt more like, she thought gloomily. It seemed as if Sir Ivor had joined the throng of Ariadne’s admirers. He knew she was difficult but did not regard it as important. On the contrary, it amused him. Possibly her fortune was enough to gild the lily. Well, he was certainly autocratic enough to control Ariadne, should a marriage take place.

Helena sighed and moodily surveyed the excellent library. Mrs. Annerwith was engaged in pouring Helena a cup of coffee from an ornate silver urn. A silver dish beside it was piled with macaroons. Helena accepted the coffee and selected a macaroon but was unable to sit still and instead wandered aimlessly among the tall bookshelves in the magnificent room. Spying a beautifully bound copy of Hours of Idleness she wandered over to the bay window with it, gazing sightlessly out over the crocuses and boxthorn hedge. For weeks she and Caroline had searched for a copy of Byron’s much maligned novel, but now she had it in her hand she was too worried about Robert to even open the cover. It was also hard to admit to herself that she was disappointed at the prospect of seeing Sir Ivor in Ariadne Yardley’s clutches. Reason dictated the unsuitability of the match. But the man had been positively avuncular when calling Ariadne ‘high-spirited’.

Mrs. Annerwith’s voice interrupted her lowering thoughts. “…you’ll see, Miss Marshfield.” She had no idea what Mrs. Annerwith had been saying but the dear lady was obviously trying to be consolatory. Helena was ashamed of herself. This entire household had put itself out for her brother, from the owner down to the lowliest footman and scullery maid. The advent of both Helena and Robert into their settled routines must have caused everybody considerable upheaval. Helena made an effort to collect herself.

“Mrs. Annerwith, would you please be so kind as to convey to the household how grateful I am for your kindnesses. Make sure everybody knows that Robert and I understand what extra duties we are causing. You have all been marvelous.”

“Why, we have loved the bustle! Cook is busy inventing recipes that will tempt young Sir Robert’s appetite, and with her ladyship at Ryewolds until next week, I am thoroughly enjoying having another lady to see to.”

Helena stared at her. “Oh no, Mrs. Annerwith. You are mistaken. I am just…a governess.” There, she had got the words out and nothing terrible had happened. The sky had not fallen in or anything like that.

Mrs. Annerwith was not aghast. She just chuckled. “Howsoever that may be at the moment, my dear, you are a lady born and bred. We all know that.”

Helena wondered what on earth Sir Ivor had said to his staff to foster this idea. The library door opened, and she took a few steps in the direction of the doorway till Sir Ivor said, “Do sit down, Miss Marshfield. Has she been wandering around like this all the time, Mrs. Annerwith?”

Mrs. Annerwith just smiled and murmured something of which the main words seemed to be ‘worry’ and ‘poor lamb’.

Sir William burst into the room behind Sir Ivor sniffing the air and saying, “Ha! Coffee!” He was offered something stronger but declined as he still had another patient to visit. “Well, Miss Marshfield. Do you wish to discuss your brother alone, or would you rather have somebody with you?” he began ominously. Helena’s Sèvres cup clattered in its saucer, and she hastily placed them on a table.

Sir Ivor moved to her side. “That’s enough, Fox. She’s nearly done in. Can’t you see that?”

“Very well, m’dear.” Sir William carefully selected a macaroon and settled comfortably into a wing-backed chair. “Young Captain Marshfield’s shoulder which is giving him so much pain, is not, strangely enough, his main problem. When the swelling and bruising have subsided, I will put him on a regimen of exercises to strengthen those muscles again. So…for the shoulder, further bedrest, arnica rubs twice a day, then in about ten days or a fortnight when I expect the healing to have taken place, the recuperative phase can proceed.”

The first macaroon disappeared, and Sir William reached for another. “At that stage I will acquaint you with various useful exercises which will complete the healing. But for the next two weeks at least he will need more rest, some good food, plenty of arnica to rub on the muscles, and possibly a little laudanum to help him through the pain. Now…the leg. That, I’m afraid, will take longer. I am annoyed that the surgeons at Portsmouth Hospital overlooked the fact that your brother has had a badly shattered shin-bone since Corunna. It is understandable that a field hospital could have missed it. They sometimes do. With hardy soldiers who won’t admit to pain it is often difficult to diagnose such a complex fracture in midst of all the tumult of war with hundreds of serious casualties. However, the naval hospital should have known better. I am writing a Report,” he finished portentously.

“But what—?” Helena began.

Sir William held up a hand. He was enjoying the limelight. “Young lady, I have just re-set the leg, much to your poor brother’s discomfort. I did the best I could considering that it has now been at least four weeks since it was broken. I also had to dig out a few bone splinters. The bone had not yet begun to mend. Indeed, there was no way for it to mend as it had nothing to attach itself to, the break being so severe.”

Helena felt sick. Poor, poor Robert.

Sir William quaffed a mouthful of coffee and looked at Helena over the top of his cup. “My big fear is infection. He has been amazingly fortunate so far. He must be kept scrupulously clean. The bandages keeping the splint in place must be replaced every day. I do not anticipate the leg even beginning to heal for another four or five weeks. During that time he should be kept as immobile as possible. Now Sir Ivor has suggested that your brother might be better off at Ryewolds in the country rather than here in the city. But I cannot entertain the idea of the poor fellow being jogged around anymore for several weeks. After that we shall see. In the meantime I shall leave it up to you to keep him entertained. In about a week you will be at your wit’s end, I’ll be bound,” he finished, laughing.

“Don’t worry,” Sir Ivor said. “We will all take turns at keeping him entertained.” He smiled at Helena. “There now, not so bad after all, was it?”

She smiled back weakly. “Sir William, what about the future?”

“We can only wait and see. I suspect the shoulder will always be a trifle weak as shoulder dislocations often recur. However, that should only be a minor inconvenience provided he is careful in the future. But the leg—well, he may limp a lot, or just a little. It will depend on how the leg mends. It is possible he may one day sit astride a horse again. Let us wait and see.”

Helena sat back in her chair like a limp doll. Her mind was a blank.

“I-I cannot begin to thank you all…”

“Then don’t,” Sir Ivor cut in incisively. “Thank you, Sir William. We are very much obliged to you. When will you come to see Robert again?”

“One week from today, unless you should contact me earlier.” Sir William regretfully eyed the remaining macaroons. However, Sir Ivor was obviously hustling him on his way so good manners dictated that he finish his coffee and leave. After reminding Helena to keep an eye out for infection and melancholia in his patient, he left.

When the door shut behind Sir William, the silence was deafening.

“What a noisy, restless person he is,” Sir Ivor murmured, “but with an excellent bedside manner. He had Robert chatting about his fears and ambitions in no time at all. I suspect he succeeded much better than a kind, sympathetic doctor would have done.”

She smiled tremulously. “I had best leave now, sir. Thank you—”

“Enough, Miss Marshfield! Don’t thank me again, please.”

Mrs. Annerwith bustled in and began to collect the crockery so Helena subsided.

“Now we know that Robert will be here for a few weeks, I propose to meet with your employer to see if he may spare you from your duties for some of that time. Obviously it would be best if you stayed here at Stafford House so you can be with Robert as much as possible. He will need you during his convalescence.”

“Oh! I don’t think I could. Caroline has only just come out, and of course there’s the household. Mrs. Yardley would find it extremely difficult to manage.”

“So you do order the household! I thought as much. Tell me, what does Mrs. Yardley do exactly?” Then he waved his hand in negation. “Sorry, that’s none of my business. I was surprised on the evening of Caroline’s coming-out party to see you had an inordinate number of tasks, but I didn’t fully realize that all the household organization fell on your shoulders. Does Josh Yardley agree with this?”

“Oh yes. I do small commissions for him, too, from time to time.”

He stood looking at her for a moment, and she wondered what he was thinking.

“I’m sorry, Miss Marshfield, but I will have to impress upon the Yardleys that you need to be here. It is true that I have a large household who all seem to be devoted to your brother already.” This was said with a wry grin. “But naturally the best nurse for him is his own sister. That goes without saying. If you are worried about the proprieties, there is Mrs. Annerwith as chaperone of course. My suggestion would be that you ask Miss Yardley to stay here too to keep you company until such time as my mother and sisters arrive. I realize my company will be but a poor substitute for a more congenial female one.”

Helena stared at him. “You have been very gracious, Sir Ivor, but I would not wish to take up any more of your time. It’s not that I prefer female company but…” She trailed off, seeing pitfalls ahead.

His smile glinted. “But you prefer my library to myself, is that it?”

Oh dear. Whichever way she answered, she would be in trouble. “Not really. That is to say…” She was lost in a welter of words and gesticulated helplessly. One thing she did see was that he appeared to want Ariadne in his house. She was forced therefore to put forward that young lady as an appropriate companion. “Very well. I will ask Miss Yardley…”

“As you wish. Though I would have thought Miss Caroline was a more kindred spirit.”

“Yes.”

He threw back his head and laughed again, and she stared bemusedly up at him. “I adore your unqualified statements, Miss Marshfield. Pound dealing for you! If it does not interfere with her social obligations, please ask Caroline if she would care to come and join you here for a week or so. I will make all well with her parents.”

Helena didn’t know how to interpret that. She presumed she had disappointed him by preferring Caroline’s company to Ariadne’s, but he did not seem to be put out. In fact he had laughed. But then, she wasn’t sure what he thought.

Or even what she thought.