by Dilly Court
It was the first time he had addressed her directly that day, and still she couldn’t meet his eyes. She stared down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. ‘Yes, I’m sure he is, but I would have liked to go in with him.’
He laid his hand lightly on hers. ‘I know, but you have to let him go some time, Clemency. Jack is a grown man and even I can see that Fancy cares for him, obtuse thought I may normally be in such matters.’
‘I’m glad it was you who said that, Jared,’ Isobel said with a stifled giggle. ‘I wouldn’t have dared. Grandmama is the only person who has the courage to put you in your place. Aren’t I right, Clemency?’
She could not answer. Jared’s hand was resting on her fingers with a warm grasp that would have been comforting, if it had not been so deeply disturbing. Her instinct was to push him away, but to do so would look petty and childish. He was so close to her in the confines of the small waiting area that she could feel his breath on her cheek and the warmth of his body. The close proximity of him sent dizzying messages to her brain, bringing back the achingly sweet memory of his kiss. She had thought last night that she had steeled herself to resist this strange, terrifying, and yet wonderful attraction he held for her, but now she felt as though it was suffocating her.
‘Are you feeling all right?’
The concern in his voice pierced her muddled thoughts, and, for a moment, she imagined that he really did care for her.
‘She looks terribly pale, Jared,’ Isobel said anxiously. ‘Are you unwell, dear?’
‘You mustn’t fall ill now,’ Jared said, removing his hand. ‘I have a special treat for you both tonight. I’ve got tickets for a musical play at the Gaiety Theatre. It’s a chance to wear your new evening gown, Clemency.’
So it was business as usual. The thought acted liked a dip in the icy waters of the Thames. Clemency lifted her head to look him in the eyes. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll be on good form by tonight.’ She thought she saw him wince, but the door to the consulting room opened and Dr Wilson stood there, clutching a notebook.
‘Mr Stone, Miss Skinner. Mr Chance would like a word, if you please.’
Chapter Sixteen
Clemency rose slowly from her seat. She had heard people say that their blood ran cold on hearing shocking news, but she had never believed it possible – until now. Icicles of fear stabbed at her heart, and she was not sure whether her feet would carry her as far as the consulting room. In her mind’s eye she could imagine Jack’s bleak expression if he had been told that he was a hopeless case, and would never walk again. Suddenly, and irrationally, she was furious with Jared. They had never imagined that Jack’s condition would improve. He had been resigned to the fact that he would spend his life as a cripple. Then Jared had come up with the notion of consulting a specialist, and a miracle seemed to be within their grasp.
‘Come along, Clemency.’ Jared had his hand beneath her elbow, and he was propelling her towards the consulting room. She moved like a sleepwalker, bracing herself to receive the awful news.
‘I’m coming too,’ Isobel said, jumping to her feet.
Dr Wilson barred her way. ‘Perhaps it would be more tactful if you remained in the waiting room, Miss Stone.’
Clemency was too concerned with Jack’s fate to care whether or not Isobel and her gentleman friend had been granted the opportunity of a few moments on their own. She gripped Jared’s arm, pushing all thoughts from her mind, and concentrating on Jack, who was seated on the examination couch with Fancy standing at his side. ‘Jack? Are you all right, love?’ He did not reply and his face was ashen as though he was in shock. Fearing the worst, she turned to the consultant. ‘Tell me, doctor. Is it bad news?’
Mr Chance’s set features gave nothing away. He opened his mouth to speak, but Fancy butted in. ‘He’s going to send Jack away. You mustn’t let him, Clem.’
‘S-send Jack away?’ Clemency’s mouth was so dry that she could hardly form the words. Visions of Jack locked away in a prison-like sanatorium flashed through her mind. She shot an agonised glance at Jared, but he seemed maddeningly calm, and he was shaking Mr Chance’s hand.
‘It was good of you to see Jack so soon, old boy,’ Jared said, smiling. ‘I appreciate the favour.’
‘Not at all, Stone. It’s the least I could do, considering the amount of funds you have raised for the foundling hospital.’
Clemency stared from one to the other in horror. Jack’s entire future hung in the balance, and they were chatting like a pair of old washerwomen. ‘Oy!’ she said sharply. ‘Cut the cackle and tell us what’s wrong with Jack’s legs.’
Mr Chance stared at her as though she had just crawled out from a hole in the skirting board. She glared back at him: it was obvious that no one spoke to him like that. She stuck out her chin, prepared to take him on, just as she had taken on the street urchins who had tried to bully Jack when they were both nippers.
‘Ahem.’ Jared cleared his throat. ‘Miss Skinner is naturally very concerned about her brother. We would be most grateful to have your professional opinion, Mr Chance.’
‘Will he walk again, or not?’ Clemency demanded. ‘It’s a simple enough question.’
‘Yes,’ Fancy added. ‘And why are you going to send him away?’
‘Hush, love.’ Jack reached out to take her hand. ‘Let the doctor speak. I can take it, mister. Just tell me straight.’
Mr Chance folded his arms across his chest. ‘You will never be able to walk unaided, Mr Skinner. You appear to have suffered an attack of infantile paralysis when you were a child, and that has left your leg muscles atrophied and too weak to support your weight.’
Fancy stifled a sob and Clemency moved to Jared’s side, leaning against him for comfort. Nothing mattered now, except Jack.
Jared slipped his arm around her shoulders. ‘Is there nothing you can do, Chance?’
‘I have a private nursing home in Epping, where we have successfully rehabilitated many victims of this disease. There is no cure, but with daily treatments of physiotherapy, and exercises designed to strengthen the muscles that remain unaffected, we have achieved most satisfactory results. In a matter of months, I am certain that we could have Jack walking with the aid of callipers and crutches.’
‘What are callipers?’ Clemency cast an anxious glance at Jack, but his expression was unreadable.
‘Leg irons. Jack will always need some form of support, but at least he will be mobile. He will be able to get about on his own, and lead a much more normal life.’ Mr Chance allowed his stern features to relax in a smile. ‘And that would be a great improvement, wouldn’t it, Jack?’
Jack’s mouth worked silently, as though he were struggling to find words to express his feelings. He nodded, and Fancy flung her arms round him.
Clemency struggled with a jumble of emotions. It was good news and bad news. It would be wonderful for Jack to be able to walk by himself, even if he had to rely on leg irons and crutches, but a private nursing home would cost money. ‘H-how much would it cost, doctor?’
Mr Chance raised his eyebrows. ‘I can’t say exactly, Miss Skinner. It depends how well your brother responds to treatment.’
‘That’s it then,’ Jack said, disentangling himself from Fancy’s grasp. ‘Sorry to have wasted your time, doctor.’
‘The cost is irrelevant, Jack.’ Jared turned to Mr Chance. ‘How soon could the treatment begin?’
‘Providing that there is a bed available, the course of treatment can begin immediately.’
‘The sooner the better,’ Jared said, holding out his hand.
Mr Chance shook it solemnly. ‘I’ll ask Dr Wilson to make the necessary arrangements. You must dine with me at my club, Stone, and we can discuss future fund raising for the foundling hospital. It’s a charity very close to my heart.’
‘And mine,’ Fancy muttered, frowning. She waited until Mr Chance had left the room with Jared, then she turned to Clemency. ‘Don’t I get no say in all this? I don’t want Jack sent
away to some institution out in Essex where I can’t see him for weeks on end.’
‘It’s for the best, love,’ Jack said, stroking her hair. ‘Think how good it will be when I can step out with you on me own two feet, even if I do clank along like a knight in rusty armour.’
‘You are me knight in armour already, Jack. I just don’t want us to be parted.’
‘You’re just thinking about yourself, as usual.’ Her patience at snapping point, Clemency fisted her hands at her sides. She saw the hurt look in Jack’s eyes, and she forced her lips into a smile. ‘I’m sorry, Fancy. I didn’t mean to be sharp with you. I understand how you feel, really I do. But we got to put Jack first. Just imagine how you’ll feel when he can walk down the aisle with you, instead of having to be carried by Ronnie, or pushed along in a bath chair.’ Jack sent her a grateful look and she responded with a wink and a genuine smile. It was not easy to relinquish her responsibility for him, especially to someone like Fancy, but she knew that the time had come to let him go. She must step aside and allow someone else to look after him. She went to the door, willing herself not to look back. In the waiting room, she found Jared talking earnestly to Dr Wilson. Isobel’s cheeks were flushed, and she was sitting on the edge of a chair, fidgeting with the strings of her reticule. Clemency could hardly wait to question her about the young doctor, but she knew that it would have to wait until Jared was out of earshot.
Jared, on the other hand, seemed sublimely oblivious to his sister’s agitated state. ‘So that’s settled then, Dr Wilson,’ he said, taking a calling card from his wallet. ‘Perhaps you will be kind enough to let us know when the final arrangements are made? If I am not at home, then you should ask for Miss Skinner.’ Jared turned to her. ‘Clemency, may I introduce Dr Wilson?’
Clemency bobbed a curtsey.
‘And you’ve already met my sister, Isobel.’
‘Yes, sir. We’ve had a most interesting conversation.’
Jared turned to Isobel with a frown. ‘I hope you haven’t been boring Dr Wilson with talk about women’s rights, Izzie?’
She responded by pulling a face.
‘We were discussing art. I believe that Miss Stone attends watercolour classes.’ Dr Wilson smiled at Isobel, and she looked away with a flutter of her eyelashes.
Clemency glanced at Jared: it was so blatantly obvious that there was something going on between Izzie and her doctor that she found it difficult to believe he had not noticed, but he was holding the door open, and he was not even looking at Isobel. Clemency saw with a jolt of surprise that he was looking at her with a question in his eyes. ‘What?’ she demanded. ‘What’s up?’
He lowered his voice. ‘I know you are worried, Clemency. But you mustn’t even think about the cost of Jack’s treatment. I’ll take care of everything.’
‘And I suppose I’m to start earning it at the theatre tonight?’
‘You’re still angry with me. I can understand that, but I thought we would just enjoy the show. It’s my way of saying I’m sorry for behaving as I did last night. I can assure you that it won’t happen again, Clemency.’
‘I know. You never mix business with pleasure.’ Clemency marched past him, into the hospital corridor that smelt of carbolic soap and disinfectant.
They travelled home in silence. Fancy sat close to Jack, holding his hand as if she would never let him go. This display of ownership might have annoyed Clemency before today, but now she was just relieved that there was a chance that Jack would be able to walk, even if it was not the miracle cure she had secretly hoped for. Isobel sat next to her, staring out of the window, and Jared was disturbingly close to her, seated on her right. She folded her hands in her lap, and hunched her shoulders, making herself as small as possible so that the swaying movement of the carriage did not throw her against him. It was a blessed relief when the hackney pulled up outside the house in Finsbury Circus. Jared lifted Jack down to the pavement, but he then refused further assistance, and hauled himself up the steps on his buttocks. ‘Just wait,’ he said, as he rested on the top step. ‘In a few months’ time, I’ll be skipping up these steps on me own two feet.’
Jared opened the door. ‘We’ll lay out the red carpet then, old chap.’ He waited while Jack negotiated the door sill and scuttled crabwise across the entrance hall with Fancy hurrying after him. As Clemency stepped over the threshold, he laid his hand on her arm. ‘Jack is a brave fellow. Courage runs in your family.’
‘Yes, and brains too. I know my place, Jared. So you need not worry that I’ll forget myself and show you up.’ With her pride intact, and her heart breaking, Clemency marched past him. She went straight to her room and was dragging the hatpins from her feathered hat when someone knocked on her door. She almost stabbed herself with one of the long pins, thinking that Jared had followed her, and then common sense reasserted itself. ‘Come in.’
Isobel burst into the room. ‘What was that all about?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Oh, yes, you do.’ Isobel perched on the edge of the bed. ‘You’ve fallen out with Jared, haven’t you? You could hardly bear to look at him in the hospital.’
‘Never mind me. What do you think you’re doing? I saw you last night, kissing that young doctor. If you want to keep things secret, you shouldn’t stand under a streetlight when you’re kissing your fellow goodnight.’
Isobel’s hands flew to her mouth, and her eyes widened in dismay. ‘Oh, goodness. I didn’t think anyone could see us from the house.’
‘A few minutes earlier and Jared would have seen you from the drawing room. He obviously doesn’t know about your Dr Wilson.’
‘Nick,’ Isobel said dreamily. ‘His name is Nick. You met him today, Clemency. Don’t you think he’s gorgeous?’
Gorgeous wasn’t a word that Clemency would have used for the serious-looking, bespectacled young man. Nice, maybe, but there was nothing particularly remarkable about him. She went to sit beside Isobel. ‘You obviously like him, Izzie. But what would Jared say if he knew you were seeing him on the sly?’
‘You won’t tell him, will you? Swear on your honour that you won’t breathe a word of this to Jared, or to Grandmama.’ Isobel clutched Clemency’s hands, staring earnestly into her face.
‘I promise not to tell him, but how long do you think you can keep a thing like that secret? And to what end? You know that they want you to marry some rich bloke who will keep you in luxury for the rest of your life.’
Tears sparkled on Isobel’s long eyelashes. ‘I know. But I love Nick, and I want to marry him. He’s a good man, Clemency. And he’s a wonderful doctor. He gives all his spare time to the foundling hospital and the hospital for fallen women.’
‘Not all his spare time,’ Clemency said, smiling.
Isobel chuckled and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. ‘No. I suppose you’ve guessed our secret. We meet every Wednesday afternoon, when I’m supposed to be at my art class.’
‘It wouldn’t take Inspector Abberline to work that one out, Izzie.’ Clemency gave her hand a squeeze as she saw fresh tears gather in Isobel’s blue eyes. ‘How did you meet him in the first place? You’re better protected than the queen.’
‘At one of Jared’s fundraising functions. Mr Chance was there, and Nick and some of the other junior housemen were acting as ushers and handing out leaflets. I took one from him, and our eyes met – I think it was love at first sight for both of us. I know it was for me. Then we started talking about the charities and I said I was interested in the women’s movement, and Nick said that he was too. We have so much in common, Clemency.’
‘You haven’t met many blokes, have you, Izzie?’
‘No, but I know he’s the one for me. I love him so much.’
‘I believe you.’
‘And you really do promise not to tell Jared or Grandmama?’
‘Of course not, but it’s not something you can keep from them forever.’
‘I know that. Nick is g
oing to speak to Jared at the first opportunity. Can’t you see, Clemmie? Jack having treatment at Mr Chance’s clinic is a heaven-sent opportunity for Nick to put himself forward and to get to know Jared. I think it’s wonderful, and I’m certain that everything is going to work out so well, for all of us.’
Clemency put her arm around Isobel’s shoulders and gave her a hug. She wished that she could be so certain of the outcome. ‘I do hope so.’
The trip to the theatre passed off uneventfully. Jared seemed not to notice the slight chill in Clemency’s attitude towards him. They had seats in the front row of the dress circle, and during the intermission he escorted them to the bar. They drank champagne from glasses the shape of which, so Isobel informed them, had been inspired by Marie Antoinette’s breasts. This comment drew a stern rebuke from Lady Skelton, and Clemency had to cover her mouth with her gloved hand to suppress a giggle. As she met Jared’s eyes, she saw that he was laughing too, and this time she did not look away. She could feel the tension leaching from her body, and she began to relax.
‘Don’t encourage her,’ Lady Skelton said, rapping Jared’s knuckles with her fan. ‘Young ladies shouldn’t know about such things.’
‘I read it in a history book,’ Isobel protested.
‘At least you learned something at that extremely expensive school, Izzie.’ Jared rose to his feet. ‘I think it’s time we returned to our seats.’ He proffered his arm to Lady Skelton, but she was looking over his shoulder.
‘Jared, isn’t that young Darcy Fairbrother standing by the bar? My eyes aren’t as good as they were. Ask him over, there’s a good fellow.’
Clemency saw that Jared hesitated, but he strolled off with a casual shrug of his shoulders. She wondered if he ever went against Lady Skelton’s wishes.
Isobel clutched her arm. ‘Don’t look now, but he’s one of them – the awful eligibles. Whatever you do, don’t leave me alone with him.’
Of course, she had to turn her head. Who could resist the temptation to take a peek at an awful eligible? Darcy Fairbrother was coming towards them, chatting amicably to Jared. Clemency eyed him curiously, despite the warning issued by Lady Skelton that she was not to stare. He was of average height, neither fat nor thin, his hair was mousy and his eyes were either grey or blue. But his whole demeanour spoke of wealth and privilege. He bowed and smiled, when addressed by Lady Skelton, and he greeted Isobel with a fulsome compliment. He barely glanced at Clemency when Jared introduced them, and her instant dislike of him was confirmed. He was, she decided, the worst kind of toff: arrogant, conceited and spoiled. She had no first hand knowledge of his type, but she had seen them hee-hawing at each other as they left the theatre, when she had been a humble street entertainer. As far as his sort was concerned, the lower classes simply did not exist, except to wait on them hand and foot or to work in mills and manufactories for criminally low wages. He was shamelessly flattering Isobel, who had a haunted look about her. Then the bell rang to summon the audience back to the auditorium.