Nurse Ann Wood (8 page)

She shook her head. “Don’t apologize. But you see...” She stopped, suddenly realizing that her voice, which was raised slightly so that he should hear her over the noise of the radiogram and other conversations, was now the only sound in the room.

She stared about her in surprise and saw that most people had stopped talking and were looking either openly or covertly in her direction. And then she heard Doctor Whitely say with a kind of false heartiness: “Why, sir, I — that is — we thought you were in London.”

The rejoinder was rather dry. “There must be a most attenuated staff on duty at the Institute, Doctor Whitely.”

“Yes, sir,” returned the young man, rather in the manner of a third-form boy being rebuked by his headmaster. By the time Ann remembered him again, he had vanished.

For now she caught sight of Iain Sherrarde, who was obviously in a dark rage. “Miss Woods,” he almost barked, and then it seemed that he too became conscious of the interest and the silence around them.

“I’d better speak to you privately,” he murmured, and his eyes blistered her with contempt.

Ann’s expression was distressed. She realized that he was condemning her again, this time for being at Beverley’s party, giving her consent by her presence to something which should never have happened. He didn’t know that she had met Beverley for the first time only a few minutes ago and had no influence at all with her.

People around them had begun to chat again, but in quieter voices, and Ann felt rather than actually saw that they were both still under observation. And then Beverley’s husky voice drifted across to them.

“Why, if it isn’t H.E. honoring us with his presence. If I’d known
you
were coming, darling, I would have put down the red carpet!”

Ann had the impulse to slip away. She didn’t want to watch their meeting. Yet something even stronger than that impulse made her follow Iain Sherrarde as he walked across to the rose-colored settee.

The crowd around Beverley melted as if it had not done when her mother approached her, and the only person who did not fall back was the pale, fair man called Lee.

Beverley lay back amid her cushions, frail and exotic and so lovely that once again Ann’s heart was twisted with a pain that was almost physical.

Iain Sherrarde’s voice was soft when he spoke — his tone very different from the one in which he had addressed
her.

He said, “Beverley, what are you doing in the middle of all this rabble? Will you
never
grow up? You take more looking after than Emma!”

“That child has the brains of the family,” Beverley returned, smiling up at him. “She must take after you, H.E. Now, I never had any sense.”

“That’s all too obvious,” he returned grimly, but his eyes were kind, kind that is when they were upon the lovely frail girl among the rose-pink cushions. But they became as bleak as his voice when they were turned upon Lee.

“I’m surprised to see you here encouraging Mrs. Derhart to be so foolish, Mr. Leedon,” he remarked cuttingly.

The other man had been leaning over the end of Beverley’s settee. Now he straightened, up with deliberation and confronted the speaker, his face all at once expressionless.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Sherrarde,” he said evenly. “And in what way am I encouraging Mrs. Derhart?”

Sherrarde shrugged. “By being here at all,” he answered.

“You’re in the same position,” Lee pointed out. Again their eyes met, and it seemed to Ann, watching anxiously, as if they crossed swords.

Beverley interrupted them gaily. “Actually both of you are gate-crashers. I sent invitations to all juniors who had time off.”

“And a quite remarkable number of them seem to have it off,” Sherrarde said now as he looked around.

“Oh, that’s all right. A few of them have already left,” Beverley told him airily. “I made it clear to them beforehand that you wouldn’t be coming — you’re such a bear that I’d never dream of inviting you to my parties — and then you were supposed to be in London, so that made them doubly safe to cut whatever they were supposed to be doing.”

“And what about their patients?”

"Only too thankful to be left in peace for an hour or two, I’m sure,” she countered, and then, “Oh, H.E., take that horrid look off your face, your so-handsome face, and have a drink. Come on let’s drink to each other.” Her big blue eyes roved around and then she leaned forward to pick up a glass from a tray which someone had set down on a nearby table.

Sherrarde’s face darkened. “Beverley, put that glass down. It’s bad enough for you to be in this atmosphere of noise and smoke without adding any more damn-fool nonsense to your doings.”

His hand came down to take the glass, but with a swift movement she evaded him, held it high, and then before he could stop her, drank deeply.

“So much for you, you interfering busybody!” she shrilled in a shrewish voice, and flung the glass towards him. It dropped with a dull thud on the carpet at his feet.

There was the silence of dire consternation, and then Leedon jumped forward as the girl collapsed into hysterical laughter. “Why couldn’t you leave her alone?” he blazed. “You do it every time — goading her into excesses that she’d never dream of if it weren’t for your grandmotherly attitudes.”

Mrs. Woods had appeared from somewhere and was patting her daughter’s shoulder. “It’s true enough,” she agreed angrily. “Why can’t you leave her alone? She wasn’t drinking at all, but now...”

Ann’s own impulse was to move away, but she remembered that Mrs. Woods had asked her to come to Fountains in order to help Beverley. Besides, she was a nurse, and she couldn’t turn her back on trouble.

“I think it would be as well to get the room cleared,” she said crisply. “Now...”

Both men gave her quick, hard stares. Then Leedon heaved a quick sigh of relief. “You’re a nurse? But of course you are. I had forgotten ... You’re Sister Anne...”

Iain Sherrarde said nothing ... nothing at all.

CHAPTER SIX

IT was a couple of hours later that Ann walked out of Beverley Derhart’s apartment. The girl was quiet now, and under a sedative she would sleep till morning. Mrs. Woods was still with her, and the housekeeper Marchdale would take over later on.

As she approached her room, she was conscious of a girl’s figure leaning against her door.

“Oh, you’ve come at last. I thought you never would,” Averil Pollard said with a sob. “Oh, Miss Woods, they’ve run away again. She’s got them and she wouldn’t hand them over to me. I honestly believe that she waits about in that road, just to pounce on them.”

She was gulping back her sobs, and Ann thought wearily, not another case of hysteria. I really can’t bear it.

But she didn’t let Miss Pollard see her weariness. She said quietly, “You’d better come into my room and tell me what’s wrong.” As she spoke, she pushed the girl through the doorway.

“Stop crying, Miss Pollard,” she ordered as she closed the door. “I can’t make head or tail of what you’re saying and I don’t know who ‘she’ is.” Though she could guess.

“It’s that Doctor Lyntrope,” Averil gulped, tears still streaming down her plump cheeks, confirming Ann’s suspicions.

“You’ve let the children run away again, and Doctor Lyntrope has taken charge of them. Is that it?”

“I didn’t
let
them run away — not purposely,” replied the girl. “I was taking them for a walk as usual, and they just ran on ahead of me. I can’t run as fast as they can...”

Ann looked disbelieving, until having surveyed the other’s plumpish figure she decided that Averil was probably telling the truth on that score, especially as regarded the long-legged Emma.

“I was only a few yards behind them, but by the time I got on to the road they were in the back of Miss Lyntrope’s car. They love car rides. I came up with them before she drove away, and I explained what had happened, but she refused to let me have them. She said she was taking them to Dainty’s End just as she had done before.”

Ann’s lavender eyes between the dark lashes were very wide and very bright. This seemed very officious behavior on the part of Doctor Maureen Lyntrope. Who was she trying to impress? Surely if an engagement between herself and Mr. Sherrarde was imminent, it wasn’t necessary to bring herself to his notice in this absurd fashion.

Miss Pollard continued with a shade of triumph, “As soon as they realized where she was taking them, the children began to protest. Emma didn’t so much, because she was in a contrary mood as I wouldn’t let them go to your room to look for you before they went for their walk. Guy tried to scramble out of the car, but Doctor Lyntrope bundled him back and locked the door. Then I tried to get it open and she called me an insolent creature and told me she would report me to Mr. Sherrarde.

“I’m really sick of it, Miss Woods,” she concluded. “Who is supposed to be employing me? That’s what I’d like to know.”

Ann had grown hot with anger and indignation. Averil Pollard might be rather sloppy and ineffectual in some ways, but this time surely she had right on her side. Who did Doctor Lyntrope think she was, kidnapping — for one could use no other word — the children for a second time? Perhaps on the last occasion she had no alternative but to take them to Dainty’s End, but this time, if Averil were speaking the truth, she had discovered the children before they had got far on the main road.

Ann was never quite sure, later, what motives drove her to act as she did now.

For she opened her wardrobe door, took out a thin poplin raincoat, put it on, ran a comb through her hair, painted her lips and said crisply, “We’re going up to Dainty’s End to get the children. They should have been in bed long since. Burrows must get out the car. The children will be too tired to walk back, and besides, it will too dark to come by the woodland path.”

As they went into the hall, the telephone shrilled. “It’s probably Mr. Sherrarde ringing to say the children are at Dainty’s End. He’ll just have had time to get home, I should think. Let it ring.”

Averil Pollard gaped in wonder. “I say, but...”

“Hurry up and find Burrows. Oh, here he is.”

She swung round as the chauffeur approached. “Miss Woods,” he began, but she stopped him.

“Get the car out, please, Burrows. Miss Pollard and I are driving to Dainty’s End to fetch the children.”

His face cleared. “Good for you, miss,” he said, in his all too familiar manner.

Ann ignored his familiarity. She was reserving her attack for those she was to encounter at Dainty’s End.

“Hurry,” she urged him, and in a very short time she was sitting in the front seat of the big car, with the governess behind.

“Come in with me,” she ordered Averil when Burrows drew up in front of the well-lighted house.

“Oh,” the girl began quaveringly, and then, as if taking a fresh grip on her courage, she continued, “Oh, all right.”

“We shan’t be very long, so please wait,” Ann told the chauffeur, coolly ignoring his appreciative grin. As she went up the steps to the front door, her heart was beating rather fast, and she didn’t feel nearly so calm as she looked.

She rang the bell and the door was opened almost immediately by a maid in uniform.

“I’ve come to collect my niece and nephew,” Ann said pleasantly. “I think they’re here. I’m Miss Wood.”

“Yes, they are here,” the girl said in a heartfelt voice.

“I’ve been trying—”

She seemed to recollect herself. “Will you come in, please? What name did you say?”

“Miss Wood,” Ann remarked, and thought: It really is that. However else I’m a fraud, I’m not as regards that name. I didn’t even have to think when I said it. It came quite naturally.

“Oh, yes, miss, I’ve heard of you. You’re the nurse, aren’t you?” The girl’s look was openly curious as she asked them to wait.

“If it’s left to her, she’ll hand them over with complete thankfulness,” Averil whispered. “She’d had enough of them last time. She told me so and said she’d half a mind to hand in her notice.”

Ann made no comment. She was looking around, noting the shining floor, and well polished furniture, the flowers and the hanging plants. Everything here had the appearance of being well cared for and loved — quite a different atmosphere from that of Fountains.

For a moment, her resolution wavered. Perhaps Iain Sherrarde was right in believing that the children would be cared for better here than in their mother’s home.

She remembered the frail, exotic girl of two hours ago, laughing one moment, sobbing with hysteria the next, and finally collapsing into a shivering bundle of humanity whom only the skill of the two doctors who happened to be on hand had saved from a far more serious collapse. Ann’s face was very grave. How could that girl in her present state of health take any responsibility for her young family? She had her mother, of course, but Ann found no particular reassurance in that thought. Mrs. Woods wasn’t the type of woman to put herself out for anybody, or take much interest in two young children.

“Will you please come this way, Miss Woods? Mrs. Trederrick will see you now. No, not you, miss.” The maid shook her head when Averil Pollard would have followed Ann.

Averil looked enquiringly at her companion. Ann’s firm little chin jutted slightly. “I’d like Miss Pollard to come in with me,” she said pleasantly. “She knows exactly what happened this afternoon. Or perhaps Mrs. Trederrick would allow us just to collect the children. That’s all we’ve come for.”

“Well, really, Miss Woods, I’m sure I don’t know...”

The maid looked startled and obviously not sure what line to take. Ann decided to help her. “Is Mrs. Trederrick in here? Come along, Miss Pollard. We won’t hinder her more than a minute.”

Decisively, she opened the door out of which the servant had just come and walked into the room. It was large, and very pleasant, with high windows across which beautiful brocaded curtains had been drawn, and with a thick, deep blue Chinese carpet and comfortable chairs.

An elderly lady was sitting on the velvet settee. A young woman, very smart, with her auburn hair immaculately arranged, was sitting in the chair at the opposite side of the marble fireplace, and standing beside her was Iain Sherrarde. They were all looking in the direction of the door and they waited in silence when Ann came in.

She made no attempt to advance very far into the room. “I’m sorry to disturb you in this fashion, Mrs. Trederrick,” Ann said quietly, fixing her eyes on the old woman, “but I’ve come for Emma and Guy. It’s already past their bedtime.”

Mrs. Trederrick looked at her haughtily and then she turned to the man by the fireplace. “Iain, who is this young woman?”

Iain Sherrarde seemed to come out of the trance into which Ann’s entry into the room had apparently sent him. “I’m sorry, Aunt Mary. I should have introduced Miss Woods immediately. She is ... er ... the children’s aunt, a qualified nurse, and a very skilful one, as I have good reason to know. Miss Woods, this is my aunt, Mrs. Trederrick.”

The lady raised her eyebrows. “Oh, so you are Miss Woods. Good evening. My nephew has just been telling us about your sister’s unfortunate collapse. Quite dreadful!”