“That is right. My sister is quite well now, isn’t she?”
Belinda nodded, thinking,However, it was not apoplexy that afflicted her…
Hoping her qualm didn’t show on her face, she reached for the bell pull. “And now for that tea.”
“No.” Rose stopped her. “I must get back to George.”
“Oh aunt, is there anything I can do to ease your mind? Anything at all?”
“Ah, what a treasure you are.” Rose laid her head on the girl’s shoulder. “Would you send word to Nell and Thaddeus, telling them what has happened? They would be sorely upset if they learned we didn’t tell them at once, but do assure them they needn’t cut their travels short.”
Belinda was already standing up. “I’ll write to them now that the letter will go out with the afternoon post. Would you like to look it over before it’s sealed?”
“No, I trust your clever head.” Rose stood – no longer dazed, Lindy was thankful to see – and they exited the parlour together.
Belinda went alone to her uncle’s study and sat down at the desk. As she prepared a sheet of foolscap, she decided to address her letter to Nell only, knowing she would share the news with Thad and Elliott. Then she sat a long time, biting her thumb, wondering what she ought to write as she did not want to upset her cousins, especially as they were so far away.
Finally putting pen to paper, she started with her typical greeting, followed by a brief report of her uncle’s fit. She emphasized that he had been given an excellent prognosis and was receiving the best of care. Then hoping to lighten the letter’s tone, she went on to describe how she had met the Hartleys,and the hollering Mrs Phylter, thinking it might make her cousin chuckle. She made no mention of her intention to become a lady’s companion as Nell was owed a much longer explanation than Lindy felt able to give just then. After reading the missive over, she sealed it shut.
Mamma ought to know, as well,she thought, and wrote out a brief message to send to Trippingham.
In tidying the desk afterwards, she lifted a lone sheet of paper, a corner of which had been weighted by the inkwell. It looked to be a letter.
Is this what Uncle George was attending to when he was struck down?Glancing at its closure, Belinda read:
…creditors show little patience. I look forward to your prompt response, dear George.
Ever your loving sister ~ Imogene
With reluctant curiosity, Lindy noted it was dated days earlier, and had an originating address forImogene ChaffeeatHollyfield Park. Belinda did not know the woman as her uncle’s family had never intermingled with her aunt’s family. However, she had heard her mother gripe about ‘George’s shiftless kin who’ve lived for naught at Hollyfield, years and years on end’. Belinda had not pointed out to her that the Eversons themselves had also benefited repeatedly from Uncle George’s largesse.
Surely this Imogene will wonder why her brother has not responded to her letter. I ought to save Aunt Rose some trouble by answering it myself.
Thinking that once she was employed, she might write much correspondence on another’s behalf, Lindy sat down again, and wrote:
Dear Mrs Chaffee ~
Please forgive my directness in writing to you. I, Belinda Everson, have the honour to be Mr George Caspar’s niece by marriage. Do not be alarmed upon receipt of this, but I felt sure you would wish to know that your brother, George, has recently suffered a fit of apoplexy. Allow me to assure you that he is receiving exceptional medical care and is on the mend. He sends his love to you and yours.
She paused, her pen hovering over that final, petty falsehood.
Why did I include that? My uncle doesn’t even know I’m writing to his sister.She bit her lip, wondering if she ought to crumple the sheet and start again.But certainly he sends his love every time he writes to her himself, so this might assure her he is truly well.
Butishe truly well?
Belinda recalled the haunted look in Rose’s eyes as she signed and sealed the letter. Once she had entrusted it and the others to Minnie’s care, she headed upstairs, hoping to comfort her aunt, and see her uncle for herself.
A Game of Chess
ALWYN SPENT the next morning scouring Dr Felix’s library for any text he could find regarding the care for and recovery of apoplectic patients. When it was time to be on his way to the Caspars’ house, he stopped first at the looking glass by the door. As he retied his cravat, he thought again of how he had scolded Sliger in the street.
Yet here I am, primping like a débutante.
However,a practitioner ought always appear presentable,his pride countered as he checked his teeth for remnants of his breakfast.
As well as smell nice.
He lifted his arm and ducked his head to sniff what he might before casting one last appraising look at the glass. Normally, his reflection neither distressed nor pleased him. Knowing all of his life that he was a rather ordinary looking fellow, he wondered now if Miss Everson found his unremarkable features disappointing.
