The Secret Woman

by Victoria Holt

  “What a flutter that must have caused.”

  “The only Woman among the Ladies! But they kept it that way. It shows you, don’t you think, the sort of woman she was. Liked her own way and got it. But this was one thing in which she didn’t get it. She wanted to send Valerie Stretton away. But oh no, said Sir Edward. She stays. It was funny, too, that her ladyship accepted it and Valerie stayed on as the nurse. They were always cool and distant to each other. But there you are, Sir Edward was no ordinary man.”

  “He was like an Eastern potentate with his wives and children all under one roof.”

  “I wouldn’t be knowing about that,” said Edith. “But there’s not much I don’t know about the Castle.”

  ***

  May 11th. I thought my patient was dying last evening. She had a terrible attack of asthma and was gasping for her breath. I sent Betsy for Dr. Elgin and when he came he told me that I must be prepared for these attacks. They were dangerous. When she had recovered a little he gave her a sedative and he came to my sitting room (next to my bedroom in the turret) and talked about her.

  “It’s an unfortunate situation,” he said. “She would be better in a climate to which she is more accustomed. The sudden changes here affect her. The damp’s no good to her. And she has a touch of consumption, you know. Her temperament doesn’t help.”

  “She seems an unhappy woman, Doctor.”

  “This marriage is a bit incongruous.”

  “Why has she come here? As her husband is so rarely here there doesn’t seem much point.”

  “It’s the child, of course. Until Mr. Rex Crediton produces an heir, I suppose the boy is important. Moreover they want him brought up in the business more or less. It’s entirely due to the child that she is here.”

  “It seems hard luck on the mother.”

  “It’s an unusual situation. You’ve probably heard that the boy is Sir Edward’s grandson—wrong side of the blanket though it may be. But they want family in the business and the more the merrier; I know it was always a sore point with Sir Edward that he had only two sons. He had visualized a large family of them. It seemed to be the one thing over which he had no control and that irked him. Lady Crediton seems determined to carry out his ideas. So that is why young Edward is here to learn the shipping business with his a, b, c.”

  “I think Mrs. Stretton is homesick. By the way where is her home?”

  “It’s an island in the Pacific—not far from the Friendly Isles. Coralle is the name. I believe her father was French and her mother half Polynesian. She’s like a fish out of water here.”

  “The attack last night followed a display of temper.”

  “That was to be expected. You must try to keep her calm.”

  I smiled ruefully. “She reminds me of a volcano ready to erupt at any moment. The worst possible temperament for one suffering from her complaint.”

  “You must try to keep her happy, Nurse.”

  “Her husband might do that…if he came home. I sense that his absence is the cause of her unhappiness.”

  “She married a sailor, so she should expect absences. Watch her diet closely. Never let her take a heavy meal—small and often is the rule.”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  “Just a glass of milk or cocoa with bread and butter for breakfast. And at eleven, milk…with perhaps an egg. She could take the egg in the milk. With the midday meal she might take a little wine but not much; and before retiring, a glass of milk with a teaspoon of cognac in it.”

  “I have the diet sheet, Doctor.”

  “Good. If she were happy, she’d be better. These distressing attacks are the result of inner tensions. She’ll sleep it off now, and you’ll find she’ll be calm enough when she wakes.”

  When the doctor had left, I realized how alarmed I had been. I had really thought she was going to die. I can’t pretend that I was fond of her; there was something quite unlovable about her; but I thought if she died, I should no longer be at the Castle. And that thought made me very concerned. But of course it is the nature of my work. I am at one place for a while and then, as Edith would say, “something happens” and my services are no longer required. It’s a rootless existence; and it has been brought home to me since I came to Langmouth—first when I had to leave Anna and now at the prospect of leaving the Castle. I am growing far too fond of this Castle. I like its thick walls and the fact that it’s a fake endears me to it in a way. I think I should have liked Sir Edward. What a pity he died before I came. I have seen his son Rex several times. We seem to meet frequently—more frequently than could be put down to chance. I am enormously interested in him and long to know about his childhood when Valerie Stretton was his nurse, and what he thought of his half brother Redvers. I wish the Captain would come home. I am sure my poor patient would be happier if he did; and it would be interesting to see how they all get on together.

  ***

  May 12. Last night I was with my patient when she was coming out of her sedation. Her name is Monique. Such a dignified name does not really suit her. I picture her lying on sandy beaches under palm trees gazing out at the coral reefs about the island. She wears coral quite often and it suits her. I picture her meeting the Captain who would have perhaps gone to this Coralle to pick up copra and fish or something like that to take back to Sydney. I imagined her with exotic red flowers in her hair. He was captivated surely and foolishly, for he married her without thinking how she would fit into Castle Crediton society. But this was pure imagination. It probably happened quite differently.

  As I sat beside her, she started to mutter; I heard her say: “Red. Why…Red… You don’t love me.”

  Quite revealing for it shows that he is constantly in her thoughts.

  Suddenly she said: “Are you there, Nurse?”

  “Yes,” I soothed. “Try to rest. It’s what the doctor wants.”

  She closed her eyes obediently. She was really beautiful—rather like a doll with her thick black hair and long dark lashes; her skin looked honey yellow against the white of her nightdress; her brow was low. I thought, she will age quickly. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-five now.

  She was murmuring to herself and I bent over to listen. “He does not want to come back,” she said. “He wishes it had not happened. He wishes to be free.”

  Well, madam, I thought, I don’t wonder at it if you get into tempers like you did a short while ago.

  She was wild, passionate, and uncontrolled. What would Lady Crediton think of such a creature? One thing she would be pleased about. If one of the brothers had to make such a faux pas at least it wasn’t her precious son. I could imagine her fury if the important Rex made a mésalliance. What would she do? Had she the power to do anything? No doubt she had an interest in the Company; she would most certainly be a very important shareholder.

  There were so many interesting things to be learned in the Castle; more interesting in fact than the matrimonial troubles of this pretty little fish out of water whom I had come to nurse.

  ***

  May 15th. I heard today that the Captain is on his way home and should arrive in four weeks’ time. It was Edward who told me. We have become friends; I must say I find him a bright little fellow and I pity him left to the care of the prim Miss Beddoes. She is the most unimaginative woman imaginable and Edward is really rather a naughty little boy where she is concerned. The other day she brought him in from his walk in the grounds dripping with water. He had decided to take a bath fully dressed in the fountain, he said. She was quite distracted and he only laughed when she scolded him. It is her own fault in a way; she is so lacking in confidence that the shrewd child senses this and makes the most of it. He knows that he has to do what I tell him or go. But I suppose it is easy for me as I am not in control of him. He quite clearly thinks that I am clever and that I am in charge of his Mamma in the same way as poor Miss Beddoes is
in charge of him; and to be in authority over a grown-up person makes me very important in his eyes. He comes into his mother’s room and watches me give her medicine. I have a little kitchen where I prepare her food and he watches me do that. He likes to have what he calls “tasters” from Mamma’s plate. Miss Beddoes frowns on this; she says it is eating between his meals and spoils his appetite; and as in the case of most young people the more this is forbidden the more it is to his taste. He is a lonely little boy in some respects. He is so small; the Castle is so big and his mother has no idea how to treat a child. Sometimes she spoils him and wants to fondle him; at others she loses her temper with him and has no time for him. He is not fond of her, I can see. He despises Miss Beddoes; he is in awe of Lady Crediton; but he is fond of Grandmamma Stretton, and goes to see her every day but Jane won’t let him stay long because she said he tires her mistress. It’s small wonder that he has become attached to me. I am, I suppose, predictable; my attitude is unchanging. I never fuss over him; in fact I take little notice of him; but we like each other.

  So he came in this morning while I was preparing his mother’s mid-morning milk and cutting her bread and butter. He sat down watching me, swinging his legs. I knew he had some exciting news to tell and that he was wondering how best to startle me with it. He could not keep it to himself: “My Papa is coming home.”

  “Well, are you pleased?”

  He regarded the tip of his shoe shyly. “Yes,” he said. Then: “Are you?”

  “I shan’t know yet.”

  “When will you know?”

  “When I meet him perhaps.”

  “And will you like him?”

  “I daresay that will depend on whether he likes me.”

  For some reason that seemed to amuse him; for he laughed aloud, but perhaps that was with pleasure. “He likes ships and the sea and sailors and me…”

  “That sounds like a song,” I said.

  I began to sing:

  “He likes ships and the sea

  And sailors and me.”

  He looked at me with great admiration.

  “I know something else you like,” I said.

  “What? What?”

  “Bread and butter.”

  I put a slice on a plate and gave it to him.

  While he was eating it Miss Beddoes came in looking for him. She knew well enough to come straight to my room when he was missing.

  Seeing her he crammed the bread and butter into his mouth.

  “Edward!” she cried angrily.

  “He’ll choke,” I said. “That’ll do him no good.”

  “He’s no right to come in here…eating between meals.”

  She was criticizing me really, not him. I just ignored her and went on cutting the bread and butter. Edward was taken away. At the door, he turned and looked at me. He looked as if he was going to cry, so I winked, which made him laugh. It always did, and he would pull his face into all sorts of contortions to try to wink back. It was flouting authority of course and wrong of me, but it stopped his tears—and after all, he was a lonely little fellow.

  When I took the tray in, Monique was sitting up in bed in a lacy bed jacket, looking at herself in a hand-mirror. She had heard the news evidently. What a difference in a woman! She was quite beautiful now.

  She frowned at the tray though.

  “I don’t want that.”

  “Oh come,” I said, “you’ll have to be well for when the Captain comes home.”

  “You know…”

  “Your son has just informed me.”

  “Trust you!” she said. “You know everything.”

  “Not everything,” I said modestly. “But at least I know what’s good for you.”

  I smiled my bright nurse’s smile. I was pleased that at last he was coming home.

  ***

  May 18. It seems incredible that I have been here such a short time. I feel I know them all so well. Lady Crediton sent for me yesterday afternoon. She wanted a report on my patient. I told her that Mrs. Stretton seemed to be progressing favorably and there was no doubt that the new diet Dr. Elgin had worked out for her was having a beneficial effect.

  “You are quite comfortable, Nurse?” she asked me.

  “Very comfortable, thank you, Lady Crediton.”

  “Master Edward has a cold. I understand that he went fully clothed into the fountain the other day.”

  I wondered who her informant was. Baines probably—I imagined Edith’s reporting to Baines and Baines carrying the news to Lady Crediton. Perhaps our misdeeds were all recorded and presented to our employer.

  “He is very healthy and will soon be well. I think a day or so confined to his bedroom and he will be perfectly well again.”

  “I will speak to Miss Beddoes. She really should have more control. Do you think Dr. Elgin should look at him when he calls, Nurse?”

  I said I thought he might do that but it was not necessary to call him specially.

  She inclined her head.

  “Mrs. Stretton has had no more unfortunate attacks?”

  “No. Her health has improved since the news came that her husband is on his way home.”

  Lady Crediton’s lips hardened. I wondered what she felt about Redvers. I should know when he returned.

  “The Captain will not be home until after our house party. I must ask you to take special care of your patient, Nurse. It would be most inconvenient if she were ill at such a time.”

  “I shall do my best to keep her well.”

  The interview was over. I felt a little shaken. I am not easily overawed; but there was something snakelike about the woman’s eyes. I pictured her smashing the champagne bottle with venom against the side of the ship and saying in a firm voice: “I name this ship The Secret Woman.” How she must have hated having that woman in the house all those years! And what a power Sir Edward must have been! No wonder the Castle was such an exciting place! What emotions must have circulated within its walls! I wonder Lady Crediton didn’t push her rival over one of the parapets or Valerie Stretton didn’t put arsenic in her ladyship’s food. There must have been ample provocation. And now they still lived under the same roof; Valerie Stretton had lost her protecting lover; and I supposed that all passions were spent. They were merely two old ladies who had reached the age when the past seemed insignificant. Or did people ever feel so?

  In any case, I thought, I should not like to offend Lady Crediton. There was no fear of my doing that at the moment. She was clearly quite pleased with me.

  I fancied she was less so with Miss Beddoes who even as I left the presence was making her trembling way toward it.

  I walked out into the gardens. Rex was there.

  He said: “You seem to enjoy our gardens, Nurse Loman. I believe you find them beautiful.”

  “I find them appropriate,” I replied.

  He raised his eyebrows and I went on: “Worthy of the Castle itself.”

  “You are amused by us and our ways, Nurse Loman?”

  “Perhaps,” I retaliated, “I am too easily amused.”

  “It is a great gift. Life becomes so much more tolerable when it amuses.”

  “I have always found it very tolerable.”

  He laughed. “If we amuse you,” he said, “you also amuse me.”

  “I am glad. I should hate to bore you or make you melancholy.”

  “I could not imagine that to be possible.”

  “I feel I should sweep a curtsy and say: ‘Thank you, fair sir.’”

  “You’re different from so many young ladies I meet.”

  “I daresay. I work for my living.”

  “You are certainly a most useful member of the community. How pleasant to be both useful and decorative.”

  “It is certainly pleasant to hear oneself so described.”

&n
bsp; “Nurse Loman sounds a little stern. It doesn’t fit you. I should like to think of you as something other than Nurse Loman.”

  “You are asking my Christian name, I presume. It is Chantel.”

  “Chantel. How unusual…and how delightful.”

  “And more suited to me than ‘Nurse’?”

  “Infinitely more.”

  “Chantel Spring Loman,” I told him, and he wanted to know how I came by such a name. I told him about my mother’s seeing it on the tombstone and he seemed to find that very interesting. He took me along to the greenhouses and he talked to the gardeners about the blooms which would be brought into the house during the period of the house party. He asked my advice and I gave it freely. It was flattering that he passed it on to the gardeners and said “This shall be done.”

  Eight

  May 21st. There has been drama in the house these last two days. I think it had begun before I realized it. I noticed that Jane Goodwin, Valerie Stretton’s maid, was worried. I asked her if she were feeling well.

  “I’m quite all right, Nurse,” she said.

  “I thought you looked…anxious.”

  “Oh no, no,” she said, and hurried away. So I knew that something was wrong. I kept thinking about what went on in the west turret and wondering how Valerie felt about her son’s return. Was she eager to see him? She must be. From all accounts he was such a fascinating fellow. His wife was madly in love with him and my dear cool Anna had been ready to fall in love with him, so surely his mother should be happy by his return. I had quickly summed up Jane as being one of those women made to serve others. I doubted she had ever had a life of her own; the center of her existence would be her mistress and friend, in this case Valerie Stretton. So if Jane were anxious I guessed something was amiss with Valerie.

  It was about nine o’clock in the evening. I had given Monique her food and was reading when Jane knocked at my door.