Dear Tiberius; (aka Nurse Nolan) (25 page)

“
It doesn
’
t bore me in the slightest,
”
she replied, subduing a faint inclination of her voice to tremble because the very thought of such an expedition in his company was enough to make her feel temporarily light-headed.

In the morning t
hey set off almost directly after breakfast. Sir John had a knapsack strapped to his back containing a picnic lunch that Lise had put up for them, and Miranda watched their departure from her balcony, waving her hand to them enthusiastically until they were out of sight.. Then she prepared herself for the sort of morning she enjoyed—a morning of carefree atmosphere of Frau Wern
’
s kitchen, with Frau Wern and Gretel and Lise all combining to spoil her, and the smell of baking that she enjoyed, and the stories from Lise.

Lucy was wearing a scarlet cap this morning, a scarlet pullover, and her dark blue trousers tucked into stout ski boots. She looked absurdly young, but not nearly as eager as she felt as they started the upward climb, with the sun falling so strongly around them from a sky like an inverted blue bowl, that the glare was already tremendous in spite of sunglasses.

Lucy was glad of her sunglasses when Sir John paused occasionally to look down at her, and his eyes seemed to linger on her. At least he could not tell what she was thinking and feeling, protected by that welcome screen.

He looked surprisingly fit and vigorous himself, in white wool sweater and black trousers. He was hatless, and his black hair shimmered in the sunshine.

They toiled on, up and ever up, taking a zigzag course around a jutting shoulder of mountain, with the valley falling away below them. Every particle of snow stood out crisply, blazing occasionally with a kind of startling blue fire, and the shadow of every little clump of pine-trees was inky blue upon the snow. Lucy looked back to see the last of the curving roofs of the Hotel Arlberg before they were hidden from her sight, and she wondered whether Dr. Wern had witnessed their departure and how he proposed to spend his day.

Shortly before lunchtime they sat down to rest in the heart of a little wood where the sunlight barely reached them, and where it was sweet and cool and silent. The whole of the valley lay below them with its frozen river and the cascades that fed it, and above them soared snow-capped giants while across the valley there stretched tier after tier of lesser mountains. But in the heart of the little wood they could see none of these things, for they were ringed around by the slim, straight trunks that soared into the brazen sky, and Lucy looked up at them without removing her glasses, and sighed because of the sudden heavenly coolness.

“
How much farther, do you think?
”
she asked, because Sir John said nothing.

“
Why? Are you tired?
”

“
No.
”
But she was—tired and exquisitely content because they were seated side by side on a fallen tree trunk, and she wished they could remain there forever.

“
We needn
’
t go on to the chalet if you
’
d rather not.
”

“
Oh, but
I
want to!
”
she exclaimed at once.
Don
’
t,
she implored silently,
don
’
t cut short this perfect day that is the one thing that makes life worth living after such despairing days as yesterday and the day before!

Sir John took off his glasses and looked at her. His expression was grave and thoughtful.

“
You came this way with Wern?
”

“
No, we never got as far as this.
”

“
Then you didn
’
t reach the chalet?
”

“
No.
”

He picked up a handful of pine needles untouched by snow, and allowed them to slide through his fingers.

“
But you have made quite a few expeditions with Wern?
”

“
We
’
ve never been really out of sight of the hotel. He has merely done his best to help me improve my skiing, and as an instructor he
’
s wonderfully patient.
”

“
As a surgeon we know he
’
s superb. What do you think of him as a man?
”

“
I think he
’
s one of the nicest men I
’
ve ever met,
”
Lucy answered with a sudden little burst of warmth that escaped her in spite of herself.

Sir John looked at her sideways. Then he frowned slightly.

“
I
’
m afraid I haven
’
t treated you very well these past two days, nurse,
”
he said.

Lucy allowed her voice to take on a note of frigidity that was unlike her.

“
I
think you rather formed the impression that I have been neglecting my duties,
”
she observed.

“
Which of course you haven
’
t!
”
It might have been sarcasm in his voice, but it could have been apology.
“
The Nurse Nolans of this world don
’
t do that sort of thing, do they? That
’
s why Dr. Wern admires you so much. You make duty a kind of fetish and he probably does the same. It
’
s only people like myself—unsatisfactory fathers—who place their own interests before the interests of everybody else!
”
He got to his feet and held out a hand to assist her to rise from the tree trunk.
“
If we
’
re ever going to reach that chalet we
’
d better be getting on our way.
”

Lucy, still retaining the support of his hand, looked up into his eyes that seemed to her all at once to be brooding and stormy, like stormy gray seas. She also felt strongly that there was an acute hurt somewhere at the back of them.

“
You
’
ve been a very good father to Miranda,
”
she told him softly.
“
You
’
ve done all that you could do for her, and you
’
ve made it possible for her to walk again.
”

“
Wern did that,
”
he said brusquely.
“
And it was you who insisted that I got in touch with Wern, so the whole thing revolves around the pair of you once more!
”

“
Surely it doesn
’
t matter who it revolves around?
”
she asked, as he knelt to make the strap of one of her skis more secure.
“
The important thing is that Miranda
is
well again—almost completely well! And you
’
ve never even stopped to consider the cost of anything—you
’
ve lavished all you could lavish on Miranda! If you
’
d been a poor man—
”

“
Wern would probably have taken her into his clinic and done the job for nothing!
”
He stood up again, and they started to move forward through the pinewood. Lucy could feel that resentment was hammering at him and it was making him want to lash out at someone.
“
Have you ever really believed that being loaded with riches is better than being loaded with someone
’
s real affection? Because I can assure you that it isn
’
t! Miranda, for instance, would probably never notice it if once I went from here
I
never appeared on her horizon again! She would simply turn to these new friends of hers and, confident that they have everything she needs, forget all about her unsatisfactory past life! Even Abbott and Fiske—she
’
d probably forget them, too, because they
’
re linked with that life.
”

“
I
don
’
t think so,
”
Lucy said quietly, soberly. This was something she had sensed vaguely would arise sometime, but now that it had arisen she felt powerless to deal with it.
“
Miranda is not really fickle. But she
’
s young and impressionable and she rather craves affection. She does need affection—
”

“
She
’
ll get it from her new friends.
”

“
But from you, too.
”

He glanced at her sideways, a slightly mocking twist to his lips.

“
She wouldn
’
t even expect affection from me!
”

They were toiling up a particularly steep slope, and the chalet had at last appeared in sight, crowning the ridge above them. He paused to catch her by the arm as she all but stumbled into a deep drift, and she looked at him with faintly pleading eyes while the color in her cheeks was a wildrose color that held his look enchained.

“
Perhaps
...
perhaps when you marry again,
”
she suggested,
“
things will be different—
”

“
When
I
marry again?
”
he inquired, his dark brows suddenly meeting above the high bridge of his nose.
“
But there is no likelihood whatsoever of my marrying again! What made you think there was?
”

Perhaps it was h
er utter astonishment, and the feeling of disbelief that accompanied it, that made Lucy suddenly really careless about where she placed her feet; anyhow, all at once she was down, despite his touch on her arm, and lying with one ski under her in the snow.

He bent at once to lift her, but she winced as he placed strong hands beneath both her armpits and drew her up against him, supporting her with his muscular strength. His dark face was a picture of concern, for she was biting her lower lip hard, and he could see it, and also some of that fresh pink color had faded from her cheeks and she was looking rather white.

“
I
’
m afraid I gave my ankle a wrench,
”
she admitted.
“
If you could unbuckle my ski
....”

“
Of course,
”
he said, and set her down gently again in the snow. He had both skis off in the minimum amount of time, and then he lifted her bodily into his arms and started to carry her forward up the snow-filled track to the chalet. Fortunately it was very near, looking like something out of Hans Andersen with its steep roof and little balcony and wooden steps. Sir John managed to get the door open and Lucy deposited on a couch covered in gay cretonne, and then he knelt down and examined her ankle and discovered that it was only a wrench, but there was a certain amount of swelling. He opened the knapsack and produced the flask of coffee and poured her out some, and then when the color was creeping back into her cheeks he gave a little sigh o
f
relief.

“
Thank goodness it isn
’
t any worse! But I doubt whether you
’
ll be able to ski back to the hotel.
”

Lucy looked at him aghast.

“
Then what will I do?
”

Sir John smiled at her with extraordinary gentleness— the sort of gentleness she had once seen on his face when he had smiled at Lynette Harling. Only this time the transformation of his harsh, dark face was even more complete, and his eyes were miracles of compassion and understanding.

“
Whatever happens, my dear, you won
’
t be left alone!
I
promise you that,
”
he told her.
“
At least, not unless we are on the verge of starvation and no help arrives. But
Wern
knows where we are, and if we don
’
t return he
’
s bound to send assistance because he
’
ll realize that something is seriously wrong.
”

Lucy began to look relieved, and Sir John hunted around the chalet and discovered that there was wood piled up near the stove, and he got a fire going. Then he produced their picnic lunch and Lucy discovered that in spite of the slight pain in her ankle she was hungry, and the lunch Lise had put up for them in the knapsack was the kind that stimulated appetite.

After their meal was over she lay with her injured ankle resting in front of her on the couch, although already the swelling was subsiding, and if the worst came to the worst she
would
be able to ski back to the hotel, she thought, as she fingered it gingerly. Sir John, who was seated on the end of the couch with his hands clasped between his knees, watching her gravely, smiled slightly as he realized what she was thinking.

“
No good!
”
he said.
“
It would never stand the weight of a ski.
”