The Paradise Will (13 page)

The incomparable perfume reached Alyssa as she awoke. She blinked, trying to focus on her surroundings and recognized the familiar décor of her bedroom but there was something delightfully different: the musky scent of roses filled the air.

She breathed deeply in appreciation and swallowed, waiting for the searing agony to follow but to her relief the pain was muted. Recalling the dreadful
choking
sensation she had endured, Alyssa offered up a silent prayer of thanks but still hesitated until she had tentatively swallowed again and found the discomfort had indeed abated. Turning her head to search for the source of the scent, she was rewarded by a view of sunlight streaming on to a blue and white earthenware jug containing damask, gallica and moss roses, their glorious fragrance released by the warmth.

She smiled and murmured, ‘Beautiful!’ Her voice, husky and strained, sounded strange to her ears.

Letty, who had been dozing in the chair on the other side of the bed, whispered apprehensively, ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Never better,’ replied Alyssa, with a valiant attempt at a chuckle, ‘except my throat feels like someone has tried to strangle me.’

‘Oh, thank God your fever has gone!’

‘H-How long have I been feverish?’

‘Almost three days.’

‘Three days!’

Letty nodded. ‘It’s Tuesday afternoon and you’ve been very ill.’

‘I remember little, except that you were an attentive nurse, Letty.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘I have never felt so ill in all my life – it was terrifying. My last
coherent
memory is suffering from a headache and feeling faint. What was wrong with me?’

‘Scarlet fever, which you almost certainly caught from young Samuel Fletcher.’

Alyssa’s eyes widened. ‘Then I’ve been fortunate.’ Looking at Letty, she added, ‘It must have been difficult to nurse me, knowing what happened to your parents.’

‘The thought did prey on my mind, but you were under the care of an
excellent
physician.’

‘But what of Samuel?’ asked Alyssa, struggling to raise her head. ‘Is he – has he recovered?’

‘Samuel is doing well.’

‘Thank goodness!’ She sank back on to the bed, exhausted. ‘The fever might have gone, but I’m as weak and helpless as a new born kitten.’

‘Tiredness and a poor appetite are to be expected, according to the doctor. You will need to follow his advice carefully.’

‘And my nurse will not countenance any argument either,’ said Alyssa with a weak smile.

‘None,’ said Letty gaily, moving to shake out Alyssa’s pillow. ‘For once, you must do exactly as you are told and I shall accept nothing less. Neither will Sir Giles.’

‘Has he visited while I have been ill?’

‘Visited?’ echoed Letty, amused. ‘Why, he has been here constantly, enquiring after your progress and bringing flowers or fruit from his succession houses. I swear he has not slept in three days. He fetched the doctor, wrote to Piers to advise him about your condition and has dealt with Ennis.’ Smoothing out the bed covers, she continued, ‘I cannot speak highly enough of how he dealt with the crisis. He is a man to be relied on and one who commands confidence, but although he tries not to show it, I believe he is almost demented with worry.’

‘Oh?’ Alyssa, vaguely recalling Sir Giles’s words before she fainted,
immediately
decided she must be mistaken: he could not have referred to her as his ‘darling girl’. More likely she had misheard in her growing delirium and when her memories of the dinner were so hazy, it was useless speculate on what might have been said, and inconceivable to bring up the subject with Sir Giles.

Letty interrupted her thoughts. ‘He brought the flowers from his rose garden at Eastcombe.’

‘They are exquisite,’ said Alyssa, running her gaze once more over the bouquet. Sir Giles, it seemed, could be a man of considerate gestures and she was grateful for the concern he had shown as a neighbour. Why, then, did she feel irritable and wanting more? A sudden wave of despondency threatened to swamp her and she turned away, anxious Letty should not see the tears which had unaccountably sprung to her eyes. She said quietly, ‘May I have a drink?’

‘Of course! How stupid of me not to think of it sooner.’

‘You mentioned Piers. Has he been to Hawkscote?’ asked Alyssa.

‘Yes. He offered to speak with the labourers while Sir Giles dealt with Ennis. I thought it kind of Piers. I wondered if he would come here at all because of the potential danger,’ said Letty, pouring out a glass of cordial.

‘Piers continues to confound me although he never worried much about illness. I’m grateful for his help, but I’ll be well enough to run the estate again soon.’ Alyssa took the glass from Letty’s outstretched hand and exclaimed, ‘Oh, I have just thought – do I fail to meet the terms if I cannot attend dinner with Sir Giles?’

‘As to that, I have spoken to Mr Forde. It is his opinion that if the will does not stipulate what should happen in the event of illness on either side, the dinner engagements can be waived until you’ve recovered. He expects Mr Bartley to confirm this so you may rest easy. Besides,’ said Letty, with an affectionate grin, ‘you can’t entertain Sir Giles now; you’re not exactly looking your best!’

‘I don’t doubt it. Pass me my mirror, if you please.’ Letty did as she was bid and Alyssa shuddered as she looked at her reflection. The face staring back bore little resemblance to the one she was used to. The ravages left by the fever were clear to see: her cheeks, which had burnt fiercely a short time ago, were now devoid of colour, dark shadows lurked under heavy eyes and her lips were cracked and dry.

‘I look positively haggard, but that is to be expected after three days of fever,’ declared Alyssa ruefully.

Retrieving the mirror from her loose grasp, Letty administered a comforting hug. ‘How you look now is of no consequence and I was foolish to mention it, even in jest. You will soon be back to health but it will be a week, possibly longer, before you feel ready to venture out of your room.’

‘I hardly have strength enough to talk or hold up my head. What a poor creature I am.’ Alyssa yawned and added, ‘I think I need to go back to sleep.’

‘Then do so, and concentrate on getting well again.’

‘I’ll do as I’m bid, but tell me one thing first, Letty – does Charles know?’

‘I wrote to him. I thought he
should
know, although I don’t think Charles will be an influence for the good in your recovery.’

‘Don’t worry, Charles will not venture within fifty miles of Hawkscote – he is a chronic hypochondriac,’ muttered Alyssa drily, before closing her eyes.

Ten days later, Alyssa felt much improved and she began to chafe at the confines of her room. She appealed to the doctor to allow her downstairs until he
eventually
relented, observing she must be well enough if she was prepared to argue.

‘But only if you do not overtire yourself,’ he added. Shaking his head, he smiled and said, ‘You are very determined, Miss Paradise. Most ladies retreat to their rooms at first sign of indisposition, however slight, and remain there for as long as possible.’

‘But they emerge wreathed in shawls and smelling salts to confide every detail gleefully, however hideous, to their friends and profess it far more uncomfortable than anything they could have endured.’

He laughed. ‘True enough. I have several such patients.’

‘I promise to take sensible precautions, Doctor,’ she said, eyes twinkling, ‘I’m aware I’m not fully recovered.’

Alyssa’s spirits lifted in the pleasant surroundings of the drawing-room. Letty and Mrs Farnell rearranged the furniture, which made Alyssa laugh indulgently at their efforts to ensure her every comfort was provided for.

Mrs Farnell, finally satisfied, withdrew and Letty asked, ‘Would you like another shawl?’

‘No, it’s is delightfully warm. I’ll not behave like an insipid dowager, reclining full length and needing the blinds drawn against the light. The gardens look very fine at this time of year, don’t they?’ she said, leaning forward to improve her view.

‘Yes, I explored them over the last week or so.’

Alyssa raised her brows quizzically. ‘Did you ramble through them alone?’

‘Not always.’

‘Oh?’ enquired Alyssa, with a smile. ‘Has my cousin been making himself agreeable while I have been indisposed?’

Letty blushed but tilted her chin defiantly. ‘Yes, and I enjoy his company. We walk in the garden and, since he brought over the mare he mentioned in Dorchester, we occasionally ride out over the estate. Piers has told me about his childhood, his house in Lincolnshire and life in London; he is extremely
knowledgeable
about the
ton
and shared amusing anecdotes. I can’t deny I find him an entertaining companion. And, true to his word, he has continued to visit the workers. I understand Draper is still discontented, but no doubt Piers will tell you the details – he takes the trouble to keep my spirits up but does not confide everything to me.’

‘Letty, I’m not admonishing you for spending time with Piers,’ replied Alyssa gently. ‘All I ask is that you take care. You’re not a flighty or foolish girl, and your heart is a loving one – bestow it on someone worthy.’

‘You believe Piers is unworthy?’ replied Letty, with a trace of defiance.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said she, with a sigh. ‘He is charming, and has good
qualities
but I’m not sure about his morals: sometimes, I fear he has a venal streak. But, to his credit, he has treated you with the utmost respect since his arrival—’

‘And continued to do so while you were ill.’ interjected her companion.

‘So he should. However, Piers has been fickle with his attentions in the past and that concerns me.’

‘I won’t throw myself at his feet,’ Letty assured her. ‘He is not at all certain how to deal with me and I enjoy keeping him on tenterhooks.’

‘It will do Piers no harm to wonder what is in your mind’ – Alyssa looked under her lashes – ‘or your heart.’

Letty smiled but offered no reply. Instead she walked to the bureau, opened one of the drawers and removed a letter, saying, ‘Speaking of which, I truly wonder what was in Charles’s mind when he wrote this. I expected him at any time during this last week but instead, I received this letter today.’ Letty passed the single sheet to Alyssa, and grimaced in disapproval. ‘Pray, don’t let it distress you.’

Alyssa smoothed out the sheet.

‘
Dear
Charles!’ she exclaimed, chuckling. ‘I knew he would not venture near while there is the slightest danger.’

‘How dare he refer to your illness as a whim!’ observed Letty, with
considerable
feeling.

‘Typical of Charles, and I find it amusing rather than upsetting.’ Catching sight of Letty’s indignant expression, she added, ‘Don’t be angry on my behalf, Letty. Oh, I would be devastated if I loved him – to receive such shabby treatment at the hands of a man I cared for would indeed be an odious thing – but this’ – she indicated the letter – ‘merely illustrates what I already suspected: Charles responds to a crisis by being completely self-centred. He loves himself more than he could ever love me, and I shall not feel the slightest pang of guilt at telling him definitively we would not suit. However long his business affairs engage his attentions, he will only visit when it is safe to do so because the idea of a
sickroom
fills him dread. And I rather think I am relieved: Charles’s prosy lectures would set back my recovery by at least a month.’

‘There we are in agreement,’ said Letty, with a grin. ‘Now, let me tell you about our gowns. Mrs Farnell has helped whenever she could so they are progressing. Do you think you will be well enough to attend – that is, if you still wish to?’

‘Indeed I will – I would not miss that event for the world,’ she replied,
cheerfully
.

They were deep in conversation, discussing alterations and the merits of
various
trimmings, when Sir Giles was announced.

‘He asked to see Miss Ravenhill and enquired after your health, miss,’ explained Rowberry. ‘When I informed him you were feeling better and
downstairs
this morning, he insisted I convey his card. I ventured to suggest you might not be well enough to receive him but Sir Giles seems determined.’

Rowberry, who was normally disapproving of vulgar insistence in a visitor, was prepared to make an exception in Sir Giles’s case. It was, he later confided to Mrs Farnell, impossible to forget his attentiveness when Miss Paradise was taken ill, and he was a blind old fool if he did not recognize the signs of a gentleman in the thrall of attraction, and make allowance for it.

‘Show him in,’ said Alyssa. Rowberry nodded in acknowledgement and after he had left, she asked urgently, ‘Letty, do I look quite the thing? I-I mean – I know I am pale but tell me I am not completely hideous!’ She smoothed her hair and tugged at the lace fichu of her gown.

‘You look your delightful self apart from a lack of colour. And I am sure that is about to be rectified,’ observed her companion, with a knowing smile. ‘As I have much to do, I’ll leave you and Sir Giles alone.’