‘How to treat me,’ said Evelyn, finishing her sentence for her.
‘Well . . . yes.’
‘Treat me asyouwould wish to be treated, Mother.’
‘As a woman?’
As a human being, thought Evelyn. Instead she just nodded.
‘We are glad you are now well. We did not expect the treatment to be so long,’ said Sir Robert.
‘Doctor Birch’s visits must have been very costly for you, Father.’
‘The cost does not matter. We were worried for you. You were like an animal. It was very upsetting for your mother.’
‘And for your father,’ interjected her mother.
‘And for me,’ added Evelyn. ‘I was upset too.’
They sat in silence, her parents united in their belief that what they had done had been the right thing to do. Evelyn realised she would never convince them otherwise or make them understand the betrayal she felt. She needed fresh air. She needed to see Drake.
‘I understand your concern that I may relapse again.’ Her parents looked up at her, surprised. ‘I would if I was in your shoes,’ she continued. ‘To see your only child writhing like . . . an animal . . . must have been truly upsetting for you both.’ She hoped they did not hear the bitterness she felt. ‘Doctor Birch has been most . . . helpful,’ said Evelyn, ‘and now it’s my turn to do all I can to aid my recovery.’ She looked at her mother. ‘I must do all I can to remain healthy.’
‘It is all I have ever wanted,’ replied her mother. ‘Doctor Birch can advise us.’
‘I have spoken to Doctor Birch. He feels there is a strong link to exercise and health. I thought I should undertake a daily walk in the gardens. Doctor Birch suggested an hour.’
‘That sounds like a splendid idea. I shall walk with you.’
‘No, Father. I should like to walk alone. I think it would help me to reflect on the past and look forward to the future.’
Her father, who was not a great walker, accepted her suggestion. ‘Well, if you insist. I think a long walk will be most beneficial.’
Her mother was less enthusiastic. ‘I’m not so sure. You may catch a chill.’
For once, her father came to her rescue. ‘I think the benefits of taking a turn in the grounds will be far greater than recuperating indoors, my dear.’
Evelyn pressed her advantage. ‘The gardens are beautiful. They will help me return to full health and fall in love with life again . . . and all it can offer.’
Her father smiled broadly. Evelyn knew what he was thinking. His daughter was clearly recovered as she appreciated the beauty of his gardens as much as he did. Now he could put the whole sorry episode behind him and never talk of it again. Evelyn turned to her mother, who still appeared unsure.
‘I promise I will wrap up warmly,’ reassured Evelyn. ‘I have taken my health for granted in the past. I will not do it again.’
‘Well, if Doctor Birch thinks it is helpful.’ Her mother’s smile matched her husband’s. ‘It has been a difficult time for all of us. A daily walk will show the servants you are in good health and we can start spreading the news you have recovered from your bout of pneumonia.’
‘Pneumonia?’ asked Evelyn.
‘Only those who attended you knew of your . . . episode. We explained your absence to family and friends as lingering pneumonia. It was too shameful to tell them the truth.’
‘Yes,’ said Evelyn, thoughtfully. ‘It was a shameful episode. Very shameful indeed.’
* * *
Evelyn felt nervous as she stepped out of Carrack House for the first time. She had been indoors for so long that, at first, the bombardment on her senses threatened to overwhelm her. Vibrant shades of green foliage and blue sky strained her eyes, the aroma of freshly cut grass brazenly invaded her nostrils and the gentle heat of the sun touched her skin but was too weak to warm the spring chill in the breeze. She shivered, closed her eyes and took a deep breath, holding it for a moment to make sense of it all. She could hear cheerful birdsong in the distance and a bumblebee desperately searching for a suitable nesting spot. Their sounds, as they went about their daily tasks, cheered her and her initial nervousness began to melt away. She opened her eyes again. The colours of the outside world that had, onlymoments before, assaulted her eyes, grew less harsh and more beautiful. She savoured the view and allowed herself to feel thrilled by it. It feels good to be outside, thought Evelyn. It feels good to be alive.
Evelyn followed the path looking for Drake. Her eyes searched for his familiar figure stretching tall in the orangery, digging or weeding in the Italian and French gardens, or tying the climbing roses to their supports in the rose garden. Each step became faster, fuelled by her eagerness to see him again. And then, quite suddenly, he was there, standing at the entrance of the maze trimming the hedge with a large pair of shears in his hands. When he saw her, the task was forgotten. They both froze, neither noticing the shears fall from his hand and thud on the grass at their feet. A bird flew low nearby and brought them to their senses. Without speaking, he entered the maze and turned to wait for her.
Evelyn’s breath caught in her throat as she looked at him. He was sixteen now. The winter had been good to him as his body had grown and matured in the most delightful way. He was as handsome as she had pictured in her dreams, but there was more to notice that only being with him could provide. A powerful attraction that both frightened and tempted her, an earthy ruggedness, a quiet confidence, a steely determination in his eyes to be alone with her — all this and more robbed her of any words she might say. No servant should dare hold such thoughts or look at her in such a way, yet it thrilled and excited her. To love him was shameful, a dangerous game she must not play, yet she knew, instinctively, she was powerless to resist the attraction she felt for him.
