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Authors: Jess Foley

Too Close to the Sun (45 page)

BOOK: Too Close to the Sun
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‘I shan’t fall,’ he said. ‘I’ve climbed up here hundreds of times.’

‘Have you now? Well, don’t cause any damage to the tree.’

‘I shan’t. Mr Spencer knows I climb them.’

And then another voice came, saying, ‘Yes, indeed he does,’ and, turning, Grace saw Edward Spencer moving towards them through the trees.

‘And he can do no harm,’ the man added as he came to a stop a few feet from Grace’s side. ‘Particularly in that tree – the poor thing’s too old to bear fruit and is half-rotten.’ He looked from Billy to Grace. ‘I saw you from the window, heading in this direction, and thought this might be a good time to catch you, and perhaps talk to you further.’

Grace guessed what was coming, but could say nothing. She flicked a glance between Edward Spencer and Billy. Mr Spencer said:

‘Perhaps we can leave Billy to his climbing and take a stroll.’ He looked up at Billy. ‘Is that all right with you, sir? Shall we leave you to your monkey business for a while?’

Billy gave a whoop of joy. ‘Yes! I shall climb all the trees!’

‘Well, just you be careful,’ Mr Spencer said.

‘I will, sir.’

‘We don’t want any broken necks.’

‘I’m going to build a den in the summer,’ Billy said. ‘I could build it in the copse.’ He pointed off. ‘Would that be all right?’

‘Of course it would be all right.’

‘If you like I could show you the spot where I’m going to build. Shall I?’

‘In a while, perhaps. Right now I want to talk to your sister.’ Edward Spencer smiled at Billy then turned to Grace.

‘Can we walk a little …?’

He stepped away as he spoke, and Grace nodded and fell in step beside him. When they were out of earshot of Billy, Mr Spencer said:

‘I have to ask if you’ve given thought to my question to you. Have you?’

Grace hesitated, then said, ‘Yes,’ though knowing that even as she spoke she was no nearer an answer.

‘I meant everything I said,’ he murmured, not looking at her but looking ahead. They walked very slowly. From behind them they heard Billy give a little yelp of pleasure as he continued in his games. Mr Spencer said, ‘I do realize that you may not love me.’ Then he added quickly: ‘That you do not love me. I should think that would be closer to the truth.’ He came to a stop, and Grace halted at his side. ‘But you could love me in time,’ he said. ‘I know you could.’

A wind had grown stronger and up beyond his head the dark apple boughs moved and sighed. ‘Tell me you’ll marry me, Grace,’ he said. ‘It would make me so happy. And I swear to you that you’ll never regret it. All I ask is that you give me a chance.’ He paused. ‘Can you give me an answer, Grace? The answer I need?’

Before Grace could say anything in reply, there came a loud cry from over to her right, from where they had just come.

‘Billy,’ she gasped, and, gathering up her skirts, turned and ran. Edward Spencer, starting just a second behind her, quickly overtook her, and she watched as he dashed ahead of her among the trees and knelt at Billy’s side.

Seconds later she came to the foot of the old apple tree where Billy lay, silent, unmoving, Edward Spencer bending over him.

‘Billy – oh, Billy,’ Grace breathed as she knelt in the cold grass. She touched his face, his shoulder, but he did not move. ‘Billy,’ she said, in a louder voice now, trying to reach him through the shield of his unconsciousness. ‘Billy, wake up!’ Her heart was pounding in her breast. He was dying, she thought; he was dead. But no, for when she put the back of her hand to his mouth she could feel the faint
warmth of his expelled breath. At the same time Mr Spencer was feeling the boy’s pulse. Then, giving a nod, he said, ‘He’s all right. I think he’s going to be all right …’

‘No, no, he’s not all right. He’s not moving.’ Her voice sounded shrill in her ears, ringing out among the bare branches of the surrounding trees.

Mr Spencer turned to her. ‘Be calm,’ he said in a low voice. ‘We’ll look after him.’ Gently he felt with sensitive fingers about the boy’s neck and then, with a little nod, bent lower and gently scooped him up into his arms. ‘Come, we’ll take him to the house.’

With Billy cradled in his strong arms, Mr Spencer strode back towards the house, Grace hurrying along at his side.

They went in by the servants’ entrance, and up in Billy’s room Mr Spencer gently laid the boy down on his bed. Then, straightening, he said, ‘We must fetch the doctor. I could send Johnson but – no, I’ll go myself. It won’t take but a minute to saddle the horse.’

He spent no further time on the matter, but turned and moved towards the door. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ he said, and a moment later he was gone.

Grace sat at Billy’s bedside, watchful for any sign of his returning consciousness, or any other change in him. There was none that was discernible to her. The time dragged so slowly by and she wondered where Mr Spencer and the doctor could be. And what if the doctor was out on other calls – as he could so easily be? What then? She sighed and bent again towards her brother. ‘Billy,’ she whispered to his bruised face, ‘wake up. Please wake up.’ But there was no response.

It was almost two hours before the doctor came. Grace was aware of footsteps on the landing outside and then the door opened, and Mr Spencer was ushering in a tall, olive-skinned man and following him into the room.

‘Dr Ellish was already out,’ Mr Spencer said, ‘but fortunately I managed to get Dr Mukerjee from Liddiston. He very kindly agreed to come out.’ Then to the doctor he added, ‘This is Miss Harper, the young boy’s sister.’

The doctor gave Grace a nod as he moved towards the bed.

Grace and Mr Spencer then stood by while the doctor examined the boy, all the while murmuring little words to himself, which Grace could not quite catch. Then, when his examination was over, he turned to Grace and Mr Spencer.

‘Well, the boy is concussed,’ he said. ‘There’s no doubt about that. Though I don’t think it’s any worse than that. I’ve made a tactile examination of his skull and there doesn’t appear to be any depressed fractures.’ He was a handsome man with thick black hair. He nodded his finely shaped head. ‘I’m sure he’s going to be all right.’

Grace felt such relief at his words that tears sprang to her eyes. But still the fear was there. ‘But – but how long is he going to be like this?’ she asked. ‘He’s been like it for two hours. He doesn’t move; he doesn’t open his eyes.’

‘I think you can only be patient,’ the doctor said. ‘He’ll be all right, I’m sure. He’ll come round. In the meantime you must just keep him warm, and keep him lying on his side. You might find that when he wakes he won’t care for bright lights, and also that he’ll feel a little nausea – so have a bowl handy. Other than that …’ he spread his hands, ‘he’s in God’s hands.’

The doctor left soon afterwards, saying that he would call again that evening. Mr Spencer showed the man out to his carriage and then came back up to Billy’s room.

‘He seems like a good man, Mukerjee,’ he said.

‘Yes, he does.’ Grace nodded. She much preferred the Indian to Dr Ellish.

‘It was Dr Ellish’s wife who suggested that I go to ask Dr Mukerjee,’ Edward said. ‘Apparently he’s fairly new in the area.’

A little pause, then Grace said, ‘Thank you so much.’

‘Oh – it was nothing.’

‘No, you did so much. You rode out for the doctor yourself.’

He shrugged. Grace opened her mouth to speak again, when there came a sound from Billy’s bed. She turned quickly to look at her brother. His eyes were open, he was frowning with an expression of irritation.

‘Billy …’ Grace breathed, quickly bending to him.

The boy mumbled something and then closed his eyes and drifted away again. Grace put a hand to her throat and looked at Mr Spencer. ‘He spoke,’ she said. ‘He spoke and he had his eyes open.’

‘I saw,’ the man said. He gave a nod. ‘He’ll be all right now, you’ll see.’

That evening, after the doctor had visited Billy again and made his departure, Edward knocked at the door of Billy’s room. Grace called for him to come in and quietly he entered and closed the door behind him. She was sitting, as before, in a chair beside the bed. Mr Spencer took the only other chair in the room.

‘He’s sleeping,’ Grace whispered.

‘So I see.’ The man’s voice was low, like Grace’s.

‘Though he was awake a little earlier,’ she said. ‘Not that he said much. Still, it’s all to the good.’

‘Yes. Dr Mukerjee is sure he’ll be all right now.’

‘Yes, he told me that.’

‘Such a relief for you. You were frantic.’

‘I’m afraid I was.’

‘And how are you now?’

‘I’m better, thank you. Much better now.’

‘You’ve had nothing to eat for some time.’

‘I’ll get something soon. I’m not that hungry.’

They sat for some moments without speaking, and in the
silence they could hear the sound of Billy’s steady breathing. After a while Mr Spencer got to his feet. ‘I’ll leave you alone. If you want anything, just come and get me. I shall be in the library.’ He started towards the door.

‘Wait – one moment, please …’ Grace got up and moved to him, reaching him as he stood with his hand on the doorknob.

‘Yes? What is it?’

They still whispered.

‘I didn’t really get a chance to thank you,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what I would have done without you.’ She kept seeing the man before her as he had carried Billy’s unconscious body; as he had laid him gently on the bed.

‘And I,’ he said, ‘didn’t really get a chance to ask you my question again. You know what question I had in mind.’

She nodded after a moment. ‘Yes.’

He smiled. ‘But this isn’t the time either, I know that.’ He paused, glanced towards the bed and then back to her face. ‘When do you think would be a good time to ask you again?’

She did not answer; she could not. ‘Of course you can’t answer that question,’ he said. ‘If you could, I would have no need to ask the other one, the all important one.’ Another little pause. ‘I shall ask you again tomorrow. And you know what the question will be?’

‘Yes.’

‘Fine.’ He smiled gently and inclined his head a little. ‘Until tomorrow, then.’

A second later and he was letting himself out of the room and the door was quietly closing after him. She did not hear his soft footfalls as he made his way back along the landing.

For some moments she remained standing by the door, then she moved back to the bed and sat down on the chair. Billy was still sleeping. She leaned over and put her mouth
close to his ear. ‘Sleep well, Billy,’ she whispered. ‘You’re safe now. Nothing will hurt you now.’

No, nothing would hurt him now. He would recover soon from his fall and would be as well as ever. The doctor had told her, and she had to believe he was right.

She sat back in her chair in the silent room, and in her mind Edward Spencer’s words went over in her brain. Tomorrow he would ask her again the question he had asked her before. And why should she not marry him? she asked herself. There was no longer any other man in her life, and although she did not love him she could tell herself that in time she would come to do so. She turned a little and took in Billy’s sleeping form, and saw him once again held in the man’s arms as they had hurried through the orchard. Billy – he would be well cared for, too.

Yes. She knew now what her answer would be.

Chapter Eighteen

The wedding would take place in April, the couple decided. It would not do for Grace to be married from the same house in which her husband-to-be also lived, so she arranged to stay with her Aunt Edie in Remmer Ridge for the last month of her life as a single woman, and be married from her little cottage. Billy would remain where he was, and continue with his schooling, seeing Grace just at weekends until she moved back, as Mrs Edward Spencer, to Asterleigh House. It was also necessary for Grace to quit her post as governess to the Kellas children, and after working a month’s notice, this she did.

She arrived at Aunt Edie’s home, Widmore Cottage in Remmer Ridge, in early March, travelling by carriage driven by Edward Spencer, who, after seeing her settled in with her aunt, set off back to Asterleigh.

Aunt Edie, already excited at the prospect of the coming wedding, was further thrilled when, during Grace’s first week in residence, it was decided that they should make an excursion to Redbury to buy Grace’s wedding dress and trousseau. Edward had made Grace an allowance to buy clothes and things for the wedding, and at the end of their day’s shopping she and her aunt came back to Remmer Ridge not a little exhausted. And even then their work was not done, for it would be necessary to return to the city to collect the wedding dress when the alterations had been completed.

Each Friday during her month’s stay, Grace left her
aunt’s house to go to Asterleigh, in order to see Billy and spend some time with Edward. She spent the night there and returned to Remmer Ridge on Saturday afternoon. On Sunday morning she accompanied her aunt to the little local church for the morning service, the church where, very soon, she was to be married.

The time passed swiftly by, and then came the week of her wedding. On the Monday of that week there came a letter from Kester. Sent from an address in Redbury, it had been forwarded to her from Asterleigh House. In it he wrote that he wanted to see her, and would like her permission to come to Asterleigh to visit her.

Grace was in a quandary. She did not know what to do. With her impending marriage to Edward there was no question of allowing Kester to visit her at Asterleigh – in any case she was not there to see him – and she certainly could not receive him there once the wedding had taken place.

Why, why she asked of the heavens, was he asking to see her again, coming back into her life like this? Just when she was starting to get on with her life – after such upheaval and uncertainty? Now here he was, writing to her, asking to meet, upsetting her equilibrium and making her doubt her every action.

As she pondered on his request she thought several times that she might just ignore his letter, simply not respond at all. But he had written in such a heartfelt-sounding tone that such a notion could not sustain for long in her mind. She knew that, if it were at all possible, she would have to see him. But there, she could not think how it could happen. And then her aunt was saying to her, ‘My dear, when you go to Redbury on Wednesday for your fitting, shall you need me along? My arthritis is giving me trouble again, and I’m sure you can do without me, my dear.’ And of course Grace said yes, that she would
happily go alone. After all, it was just for the final fitting and to bring back the dress.

BOOK: Too Close to the Sun
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