The Gossamer Cord (34 page)

“He must have been terribly chilled.”

“To the bone. That’s what’s brought this on. I only hope it’s not going to turn to pneumonia. He’s too little. If I find out who opened that window, I’ll be ready to kill the one who did it.”

I went up to see Tristan. He was tucked in with extra blankets and there were hot water bottles on either side of him. His face was flushed and he was shivering every now and then. His eyes had lost their brightness. He opened them for a second or two and then closed them. I felt sick with anxiety. I knew that he was very ill.

“I wish that doctor would come,” said Nanny Crabtree. “He’s taking his time.”

“He said in an hour. It’s not fifteen minutes yet. Nanny…how is he, really?”

“Not too good. He’s had this chill. He was sleeping and warmly tucked in when I left him. I thought he’d be better in the morning. Children throw things off easy. They worry you sick, and then in half an hour they’re right as rain. I was a bit anxious about him. You always are…you never know what can flare up suddenly. It was four o’clock…I just heard that cough and there I was. I felt the draught as I came in. He was lying there…uncovered, with that wind blowing in right onto him. Well, I shut the window fast as I could and I got him wrapped up and warm. He was like a little iceberg. But he’s taken a chill, no doubt of that. I wish that doctor would come.”

I washed and dressed and was ready when the doctor arrived. He went straight to Tristan and I could see by his expression that we had done right to call him immediately.

He said: “We’ll have to take care of him. It’s not pneumonia…yet. Well, we’ll do our best. He’s a strong little fellow, but he is young, very young. He didn’t seem all that bad when I saw him last.”

“I found him with the clothes off him,” said Nanny. “He was just in his little nightshirt…”

“Well, we’ll see what we can do.”

I could not believe this. Dorabella dead and now the child threatened. There was something evil in this place.

Matilda was deeply concerned.

“Poor little mite,” she said. “I thought it was just a cold and, in fact, when the doctor came yesterday, I didn’t think it was really necessary.”

“I’m glad he saw him yesterday,” I said. “He can see what a big change there has been.”

“It’s not…dangerous?”

“The doctor thinks it could be. It’s so sudden. I feel…” I turned away and she slipped her arm through mine.

She said: “I know. One thing after another. Life can be like that sometimes. Everything seems to go wrong.”

“Nanny went in this morning. She found him frozen. He had thrown off the bedclothes and the window was open—the one by his cot.”

“Did Nanny leave it open?”

“Oh, no! She would never do a thing like that. The wind was blowing straight down onto his cot and she wouldn’t let him be in a draught. The result might have been disastrous. Thank goodness she woke up when she did.”

“I suppose he kicked off his bedclothes. But who opened the window?”

“Nanny says she doesn’t understand it. She said she tucked him in so tightly that he couldn’t have thrown off the bedclothes. And she certainly didn’t leave the window open.”

“She must have. I expect she forgot. She is a little old.”

“I never thought of her age. She’s as efficient as ever. She looks after Tristan as she did after us. Little escapes her.”

“But to leave a window open like that.”

“I can’t believe she did.”

Matilda shrugged her shoulders. “Well, it has happened. The thing is to get Tristan well. Dr. Luce is very good. He will do what is best. Do you think I could see Tristan?”

“I don’t know what the doctor’s orders are. Let’s go up and see Nanny.”

Nanny Crabtree came to the nursery door.

“I’ve got to watch him,” she said. “If there is a change I’m to call the doctor at once.”

Matilda looked startled. “Is it as bad as that then?”

Nanny said: “I don’t want him left. Miss Violetta, I want you here.”

“Your friend…” began Matilda.

I had forgotten Richard. I looked at my watch. It was nine thirty. I had promised to be ready by ten.

“You should go out and have a pleasant day with him,” said Matilda.

“I couldn’t have a pleasant day. I’d be thinking all the time of what was happening to Tristan.”

“You should be here, Miss Violetta,” said Nanny Crabtree. “I don’t want anyone coming in here and opening windows.”

She looked fierce and angry. Matilda exchanged a glance with me.

I said to her: “You see that he is really ill.”

She tiptoed to the cot.

“Poor little thing,” she said. “He does look poorly.”

“I’ll pull him through,” said Nanny Crabtree. “And then I’ll have something to say if I find anyone opening windows in my nursery.” She turned to me. “I don’t want him throwing off the bedclothes. He’s got to be kept warm. The doctor will be back this afternoon to take a look at him.”

Matilda said: “If I can be of any help…”

“That is kind of you, Mrs. Lewyth,” said Nanny. “But we’ll be able to manage.”

Matilda looked at me helplessly.

I said to Nanny: “I’ll be back in a moment,” and went out with Matilda.

“You really shouldn’t disappoint that nice young man,” she said.

“I can’t help it.”

“I could be up there to help Nanny. You should go off with your friend.”

“I couldn’t. I must know what is going on. I shall telephone him and explain.”

I did. He was amazed and dismayed, and a little indignant. I could understand that. He had made this journey to see me. Yesterday had been a disappointment, and now this.

He said he would call at the house in the afternoon and rang off.

I felt very sorry, but my thoughts were really with Tristan. I knew he was in a precarious state. The doctor had hinted as much, and the fact that he thought it necessary to call again this afternoon confirmed that.

Nanny Crabtree and I sat in the nursery, every now and then glancing toward the cot. If he as much as moved, Nanny Crabtree was there, murmuring endearments, watching tenderly.

When she talked to me her indignation was apparent.

Someone had come into the room and opened the window. Why? Was it one of those fresh-air people who thought it wasn’t healthy unless you were blasted off your feet, and didn’t get goose pimples from the cold? If she could find the one who opened that window, she’d see that they didn’t show their face in her nursery ever again.

“I mean to say…to open a window. Why?”

I could not answer that question, and Matilda’s hint that Nanny was getting old and could have forgotten to shut it came into my mind. No…never. Not when she had been wrapping Tristan up and had been told by the doctor to keep him warm.

But who else? One of the maids who came up after Nanny Crabtree had left Tristan for the night? It was ludicrous. But if she had brought something in, thought the room seemed stuffy, might she not have opened the window? No one would have done such a thing. Could it really be that Nanny Crabtree herself had really forgotten to shut the window?

Whatever happened, it was done, and had its dire effect.

All through the morning we were with Tristan. Nanny Crabtree would not allow him to be left alone. If she had to go out of the room for a few minutes, she wanted me to be there.

Richard came in the late afternoon and wanted me to go back with him to the hotel. I said I could not concentrate on anything. I should be thinking of what was happening here.

“Tristan is very ill, indeed,” I said. “Nanny Crabtree wants me here.”

He said little and Matilda suggested he stay to dinner. He did. I went down to it knowing that Nanny Crabtree would let me know if there was any change. The doctor had been there and had said that at least the child’s condition had not worsened.

A pall hung over us all. Dermot joined us. There was a look of haggard misery on his face. Gordon tried to entertain Richard and they talked about the estate, the law, and the situation on the Continent. I was glad when the meal was over.

Richard left soon after. He was a little aloof. He would be leaving for London early next morning, for he was not sure how the trains ran on Sundays and he must be back in town by Monday.

It had been a disastrous visit; but my thoughts were all with Tristan.

During the night Nanny Crabtree and I took it in turns to sit with Tristan. I had a few hours sleep on her bed while she was on the watch.

In the morning, Tristan seemed to be breathing a little more easily. The doctor came and said he was well pleased. He thought we were going to avoid pneumonia after all.

“Now,” said Nanny Crabtree to me, “you are going to get a good night’s sleep tonight.”

“And what of you?”

“I shall sleep, too. I’ll be at hand, though. I think he’s over the worst, out of danger now. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly the young recover.”

I did sleep. I was exhausted and the first thing I did in the morning was to go to the nursery.

Nanny Crabtree was smiling happily.

“Come and look at him. There he is. Why did you want to give us all that trouble, eh, my lord? You little rogue, you. You had us worried. Now look at you.”

I kissed him and he gave a little cluck of pleasure.

I was filled with thankfulness.

I wrote to Richard telling him how sorry I was that his stay had been disrupted. Tristan had almost completely recovered. The doctor had said that in a few days he would be back to normal.

“It was such a pity, Richard,” I wrote, “that it should have happened just then. I am so sorry…”

I pictured him reading the letter. He had been very disappointed, indeed, and I was sure that he was thinking there had been no need for all the fuss. The child was not ill after all.

I wondered what effect that visit had had on his feelings toward me. I think mine had undergone a change. That was unfair, of course. He had been justly disappointed.

That day Jowan Jermyn telephoned. Would I ride out with him to Brackenleigh, which was on the other side of the moor?

I agreed and we left at ten thirty. We would have lunch, he said, at a place he knew there. He had to call at one of the farms. I might find that interesting.

It was just what I needed.

It was very pleasant. Spring was on the way and the hedgerows were bright with flowers in patriotic colors of red, white, and blue.

He knew that I had had a visitor from London.

I said: “I see the circulation of news is as good as ever.”

“It is always to be trusted,” he said “And there was trouble over the little boy?”

“We have had a very anxious time. Tristan is all right now and we are very thankful. But he was really dangerously ill.”

“I heard the doctor visited frequently.”

“Poor Nanny Crabtree was very distressed.”

“You must tell me all about it while we are having lunch. It’s single file here. Just follow me.”

I did until we came to the moor. We galloped then and came to the King’s Head—a pleasant-looking inn. The sign over the door depicted the crowned head of some rather indeterminate monarch who might have been one of the Georges.

Over the table Jowan said, “Tell me about the visitor.”

“He was a friend from London. A lawyer.”

“And he came down to see you?”

“Yes.”

“A great friend?”

“We met in London. He is a friend of Edward’s. You know who Edward is?”

He did not, so I gave him a brief summary of Edward’s place in the family. He was intrigued by the story.

“My mother regards him as her son,” I said.

“You have inherited her talent for looking after motherless infants.”

“You mean Tristan. Well, he is my sister’s son.”

He nodded. “And the lawyer? You were not able to entertain him in the manner which he was expecting.”

I could not help smiling. “Why do you need me to tell you anything? You have such an excellent service of your own.”

“Nevertheless, tell me. I like to hear it from the horse’s mouth.”

“Tristan had a cold, a rather bad one. Nanny Crabtree called the doctor, who said he should stay in bed and be kept warm,” I went on to tell him about the open window and Tristan’s kicking off his bedclothes which had brought him close to pneumonia.

“We sat up with him all night…Nanny Crabtree and I. She didn’t want anyone else. She blames someone for coming in and opening the window.”

“And taking the clothes off the baby’s bed?”

“Oh, no. We thought he threw them off.”

“Was he in the habit of doing that?”

“No. He never has before.”

“So he only does it when he is in a draught.”

I looked at him intently.

“Well,” he said. “It was what he did, wasn’t it?”

“What are you thinking?”

“Why should he do that?”

“We can’t ask Tristan why he kicked off his bedclothes. I suppose he was restless, probably feverish and too hot.”

“I wonder why someone should come into the nursery and open the window.”

“Mrs. Lewyth thinks that Nanny Crabtree opened it and forgot to shut it.”

“I suppose it is a possibility. Is she forgetful?”

“I have never known her be, especially where her charges were concerned.”

“And with a child already sick. Doesn’t it sound strange to you? I wish you weren’t staying there.”

“Where else should I stay?”

“I mean it’s a pity you can’t take the child to your mother. But that is not entirely true, for if you did, what about me?”

“You?”

“Think how desolate I should be if I could not see you.”

“Would you be?”

“It is not like you to ask foolish questions when you know the answer.”

I did not reply, and nothing was said for a few moments.

I ate a little of the salmon which had been placed before me, and I felt happier than I had for some time. Tristan’s quick recovery had lifted my spirits and I always had enjoyed Jowan’s company.

He said at length: “Have you made any plans as to what you are going to do?”

I shook my head. “I am still uncertain about everything.”

“Something might be decided for us before long,” he said.