Together they helped her back into bed.
She knew they referred to Sir John, but another face shimmered before her mind’s eye. Settling under the bedclothes, she pushed away thoughts of Sir John and tried to focus on the faint image of sparkling blue eyes and an affectionate smile. But other images kept pushing his face aside—a red cloak floating on the tide, a hand slipping from hers.... Had she only dreamt it, or was she remembering something that had actually happened?
Chapter3
That next afternoon, Dr. Parrish came in and sat at her bedside. “And how are you feeling today, my lady?”
“Better, I think.”
“Everyone treating you well?”
She nodded. “Mrs. Turrill is very kind.”
He beamed. “I am happy to hear it. Sally Turrill is my cousin, and I recommended her for the situation myself. Though not everyone was in favor of the arrangement.”
“I am grateful you did.”
“You don’t know how that pleases me. Men love to be right, you know.” He winked at her. He then went on to explain that Mrs. Turrill had prepared the house for their arrival and, after the accident, had offered to serve as her nurse and lady’s maid, as well as cook-housekeeper. He said, “Apparently, Sir John asked Edgar to engage minimal staff and planned to select the rest of the servants after you arrived. But, well, as it is...” He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. “Sallyhashired a young manservant and a kitchen maid. Otherwise, she has been making do.”
“I hope it isn’t too much for her,” she said.
“I’ve not heard a single word of complaint from her. Likes to be busy, Sally does.”
His smile dimmed. He clasped his hands over his knee and cleared his throat. “Now, um, there is something I need to tell you...”
A woman passed by the open door, and, seeing the two of them together, paused in its threshold. Sir John’s chamber nurse, she believed, although she wasn’t sure of her name.
The woman frowned at them. “It must be grand to sit and talk while others change bedding and bandages, and feed and tend to your patients. I’ve had more than enough for one day, Doctor. It’s your turn.”
The woman stalked away, her heels echoing down the corridor and clumping down the stairs.
When they were alone again, she asked, “Is that Sir John’s nurse?”
“Em, no.” He gave a lame little chuckle. “My wife.”
“Oh! I’m sorry. That is, I did not realize...”
He lifted a hand to stem her apology. “Understandable misapprehension,” he consoled. “Mrs. Parrish has, um, kindly agreed to act as chamber nurse. She tends Sir John during my absences, while I call on other patients. It’s only temporary, until the nurse I usually employ finishes with her current patient.”
“Ah, I see.”
He rose. “Well, I had better go and look in on Sir John. We shall finish our talk later, all right?”
After several minutes had passed, Mrs. Turrill entered, wearing an apron over a simple frock as usual and carrying a dinner tray. “Good afternoon, my lady. How are you feeling?”
“Better, thank you. Dr. Parrish and I were just speaking of you.”
“Were you indeed? That explains the itch in my ear. Well, George is a good man, but if he tells you any tales about mywild younger days, I shall have to return the favor!” She grinned. “Known him since he was a lad, I have. What a scamp he was, too.”
“But your accent is different than his ... and familiar.”
“You’ve a good ear, my lady! I was born in this parish, like George, but was in service in Bristol for many a year.”
“Ah. That explains it.”
Mrs. Turrill helped her sit up in bed, propped with pillows. She laid a linen cloth over the bedclothes and assisted her in eating soup and sipping tea.
Afterward, she reached into her apron pocket. “Edgar has been digging through the wreckage to see what might be salvaged.” Mrs. Turrill extracted a black glove and held it up.
