6

Elinor was only dimly aware of being brought round by a sniff of sal volatile, of being carried up to her room, examined by the doctor, dosed with James’s Powders and lemon-and-barley water tisanes, and treated with cold compresses on her forehead. She had no real sense of time’s passage. She only knew that, after a while, the thickness seemed to clear from her head, and she was able to turn on her side, snuggle into her pillows, and surrender to a deep, deep sleep.

She awakened to the sound of clicking needles. She opened her eyes and discovered her mother sitting beside her bed, calmly knitting. Elinor sat up gingerly, expecting to feel dizzy, but her head was quite clear. And the pain in the throat was gone!

From the way the rays of the sun were slanting in through the windows, she deduced it was afternoon. “Mama,” she exclaimed, “you shouldn’t have let me sleep so late!”

“Elinor, my love,” Martha Selby cried, throwing aside her knitting and jumping to her feet in delight, “you’re awake!”

“Yes, and feeling so much better. I knew that I only needed a few hours of good, sound sleep.”

“A few hours?” Martha gurgled with laughter as she sat down on the side of the bed and enveloped her daughter in an ecstatic embrace. “My dear, you slept the clock twice round!”

Elinor’s face fell. “What? Twenty-four hours?”

Martha grinned at her. “More than that. Your fever broke yesterday morning, and then you simply turned on your side and went to sleep.”

“I don’t believe it. Are you saying that almost two days have passed? Then today is … good heavens! Friday! Tonight is Christmas Eve! I must get up at once—there’s so much to do!”

She tried to throw off her blankets, but her mother held her back. “You will not get up! Whatever has to be done will be done by the staff and me. You will not leave this bed for another day at least. Those are Dr. Ogilvy’s orders.”

“But, Mama, that’s silly. I feel fine. Quite recovered.”

“Nevertheless you will remain abed. If you are very good, if you rest quietly and drink your barley water and hot soup—which I shall go down and prepare for you forthwith—you may come down for Christmas dinner tomorrow. But you will not set foot on the floor until then.”

“Not until Christmas dinner tomorrow? Mama, you can’t mean it!”

“But I do. You had a fever from a respiratory infection, which Dr. Ogilvy said could have been pneumonia if you’d had a less healthy constitution. Fevers tend to leave one weak, and I shan’t permit you out of bed until your strength is fully restored.” She got up from the bed, rescued her knitting from the floor, and started out of the room. “Besides,” she added over her shoulder, “Miles has already given me a tongue-lashing for neglecting to order you to bed sooner. I don’t wish to receive another scolding from the fellow.”

The mention of Miles’s name brought back to Elinor’s mind a vivid recollection of the scene in the entry hall. Her cheeks reddened in shame, and she sank back against the pillows. “Mama, did Miles say anything else? Or Julian?”

“Anything else?” Martha, her hand on the doorknob, turned and studied her daughter curiously. “About what? What do you mean?”

Elinor shrugged. “Nothing, Mama. Never mind.”

Martha frowned at her daughter suspiciously. “What’s amiss, Elinor? Has something happened between you and Julian?”

“Why do you ask?” Elinor countered cautiously, surprised at her mother’s astuteness.

“Because of your manner. It’s a bit evasive, isn’t it? But you don’t have to explain anything to me if you don’t wish to. I pride myself that I am not the prying sort. However, my love, don’t think I haven’t noticed that your Julian is behaving very peculiarly.”

“Is he?”

“Indeed he is! He hasn’t asked more than twice to come up to see you—which Miles asks every hour on the hour—and, what’s worse, he’s been flirting with Felicia quite brazenly.”

“Well, don’t let that trouble you, Mama. I myself requested that he … er … entertain her.”

“Did you really?” Martha shook her head in bewilderment. “I don’t understand you young people.” She sighed. “When I was betrothed, your father and I carried on in a much more romantic style. However, if you’re not concerned about Julian’s behavior, I won’t trouble myself about it, either.”

“Good.”

Martha Selby opened the door. “Shall I let Miles come up, my dear? He’s waiting so anxiously.”

Elinor shuddered fearfully. If Miles wanted to see her, his motive was surely to berate her for her lie. She supposed she would have to endure a tongue-lashing sooner or later. But not yet, she prayed in cowardly silence. “No, Mama, no!” she said hastily. “Tell him I’m still asleep.”

“Elinor!” Martha exclaimed in surprise. “Are you asking me to lie? To Miles, of all people? He’s as worried about you as if he were your father! What on earth has gotten into you?”

Elinor winced. She was a sorry creature indeed, wishing to avoid a reprimand that she fully deserved. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she muttered, shamefaced. “Let him come up, if he wishes.”

“If he wishes?” Martha threw her daughter an enigmatic smile. “Oh, yes, my love, that is most certainly what he wishes.”