Sitting next to Caroline watching her refined prettiness he realised that he felt absolutely nothing. No expansion in his chest at the sight of her, no stirring in his loins, no quickening of his pulse - nothing beyond an appreciation of her prettiness. Even holding her hand was barely registering with his senses.
Until he spoke Ellen’s name out loud he had been quite willing to marry Caroline because it was the sensible and expected thing to do. But not now.
He eyed the large French clock on the mantelshelf.
‘I fear it is time for me to leave,’ he said, disengaging his hand from hers. She looked extremely vexed. He didn’t blame her. He had given her every indication that he was about to propose and had not done so.
‘But you have only been here half an hour,’ she said, thrusting her clasped hands into her lap.
He managed a regretful smile. ‘I’m sorry.’ He stood up and so did Caroline.
‘You’re not angry with me, are you?’ she asked in a little forlorn voice.
‘No, I’m not,’ he said truthfully. He wasn’t. How could he be? It wasn’t Caroline’s fault that she wasn’t Ellen. He bowed.
‘Miss Sinclair.’
She must have heard the sincerity in his voice because she brightened a little. ‘It’s been a pleasure to see you, Doctor Munroe. I look forward to dinner with you on Monday.’ She sent him a sideways glance that caused a dimple to form at the corner of her mouth. ‘Maybe your mother will have another letter from Lord Effingham that will require her immediate attention.’
Robert didn’t answer, just bowed again, collected his hat from the table and left.
Eleven
Josie jumped up and down as she held Ellen’s arm. They had been up early that morning and packed a small lunch, then walked the best part of three miles until they reached a small field just by Bow church where the annual May fair was in full swing.
Around them flapped the brightly coloured awnings of stalls and booths, all of which had vendors vying for the attention of passers-by. There were wonders abounding to entice the visitors to part with their hard-earned pennies. Ellen and Josie stopped to watch some swarthy-looking men and sloe-eyed women tumble and leap in the air while, high above them on a suspended rope, a diminutive young woman in a scanty costume walked back and forth.
Ellen smiled as her daughter stood in wide-eyed wonder. ‘She’ll need a good bone-setter if she falls,’ observed Josie and set Ellen off on a train of thought that she tried to stay away from as much as she could.
Since the day she had visited Doctor Munroe at the hospital and he had apologised for his behaviour she had tried to avoid him, mainly for her own peace of mind. But as if fate knew her intention, she kept running into him. Thankfully, this was mostly in the street so she could get away with a hurried acknowledgement that only disturbed her for about an hour, but from time to time he came into the Angel for supper. On every occasion she found him looking at her with an intense gaze that seeped into her heart and soul.
He has a fiancée, she told herself, as Josie sped over to buy an aniseed twist from a candy booth. What else would this Miss Sinclair be? After all, she had travelled to London with the doctor’s mother.
Josie was on her way back, dodging a clown on stilts who had a small dog in a ruff hopping on its back legs between the long poles.
‘This is such fun. It’s a pity that Gran couldn’t come,’ Josie said, sucking on the twisted cane in her hand.
I think she will be better for a day’s rest,’ Ellen said, careful not to let Josie see her concern. Bridget’s breathlessness was becoming worse and the cough that was never far away had come back with a vengeance after she was caught in the rain.
Josie looked above Ellen’s head and dropped a small curtsy.
‘Doctor Munroe,’ Josie said.
The flesh at the back of Ellen’s neck tingled. She turned slowly round to find herself looking directly into Robert Munroe’s dark eyes.
He took her hand and bowed respectfully. ‘I can’t tell you what a pleasure it is to see you, Mrs O’Casey. That cream gown suits your colouring perfectly.’ He turned to Josie. ‘And Miss Josie O’Casey. I see you’re fully recovered from the quinsy. How is Waisey?’
‘I am well, thank you, Doctor, and Waisey, well, she is at home looking after Gran,’ she said. Ellen saw the beginning of a simper as Josie fluttered her eyelashes at him.
‘Are you enjoying the fair?’ he asked, still looking at Josie, but stepping closer to Ellen.
While his attention was on Josie, Ellen let her eyes enjoy the sight of Doctor Munroe’s features. Although his hair was light brown with the occasional blond streak, the bristles of his beard were dark, just visible even though he must have shaved not five hours ago.
‘Isn’t it, Ma?’ Josie’s voice filtered through her thoughts.
‘I’m sorry, Josie, my mind was elsewhere. What did you say?’
‘I said the fair is better than last year,’ Josie replied as Ellen tore her eyes away from the man beside her and back to her daughter.
‘Oh, yes... yes, there are more - er - booths, and the acrobats are certainly finer,’ Ellen said, conscious that Doctor Munroe was staring at her with an unsettling expression in his eyes.
‘May I accompany you in your enjoyment of the fair?’ Robert asked, as he held his arm out for Ellen.
‘Are you alone?’ Ellen asked.
‘I came with Chafford and Maltravers, but they have gone off to see the All-Comers’ fight.’ With a wry smile, he added, ‘You’d think a surgeon would see enough blood and broken teeth in the usual way of things without looking for it on his day off.’
Ellen’s head warned her not to let down her carefully built defences, but her heart didn’t listen. That look and that smile washing over her were too much. She laughed and laid her hand on his arm.
They walked on, stopping at a booth which invited people to throw a wooden ball at a stand full of plates for a prize. Josie had a couple of throws that wobbled a plate or two, but did no real damage. Then Doctor Munroe took three balls and sent the plates crashing to the ground, earning Josie a length of pink ribbon.
‘Did Gran take you to the fair, Ma, when you were a child?’ Josie asked, as they watched a juggler in a garish costume toss clubs in the air.
‘That she did. Every May Day we would be off to Munster town for the largest fair in the county. Me, me Mammy and Pappy, along with Joe and Sean,’ Ellen said aware that Robert was listening as intently as Josie.
‘You were born in Ireland?’ he asked.
‘I was. We all were. Joe was first, then Marie who died when she was four,’ Ellen explained, ‘then Sean, and lastly me. We came to London when I was seven.’
‘Were the fairs like this one, Ma?’ Josie asked, as they stopped in front of a booth selling lace-covered buttons and other lacy trimmings.
Ellen smiled, remembering. ‘In some ways. There were tinkers and peddlers, just like here, but there were more cattle as it was a market too. We would be up before the sun was in the sky to be scrubbed and dressed in our best clothes for the fair. Mammy would comb and braid my hair so tight it would hurt.’ Robert seemed enthralled by her reminiscence, and wondered if he had ever been to a fair when he was a boy in Scotland. ‘Me, Pat and Sean had to squeeze in the back of a dog cart pulled by our old donkey, while Mammy and Pappy rode on the board in front. Pappy would always take his fiddle and join the men in the pub, singing and playing songs that were old when Moses was a boy.’
‘It is from your father that you must get your ear for music, Mrs O’Casey?’ Doctor Munroe asked.
‘I would say so, and some of the old songs I now sing,’ she said, thinking of the man who sat her on his knee and traced the words in their old family Bible with his finger. ‘It’s a pity I don’t have his saintly patience as well.’
‘A grand day, is it not, Mrs O’Casey?’ a youthful voice said from behind them. Ellen turned to find Patrick Nolan twisting his cap in his hand. The brawny yo
ung lad was smiling at Josie and she was smiling back. ‘And that Miss Josie looks as sweet as a flower in a Kerry meadow.’
Josie lowered her eyes and stared at her hands.
‘How’s your mother, Pat?’ Ellen asked, noting that Robert was watching the two young people with barely suppressed amusement.
‘She’s grand, so she is, Mrs O,’ Patrick answered, his eyes still glued to Josie. ‘Would you like to see the mermaid, Josie?’
‘Can I, Ma?’ Josie asked.
‘I don’t know. You might get lost.’
Josie looked dismayed.
‘I’m sure this young lad will take care of Miss O’Casey,’ Robert said, and earned a look of pure hero worship from Patrick.
‘Say yes, Ma, pleeeese,’ Josie implored, holding on to Ellen’s hands and bobbing up and down.
Why not?
‘Oh, very well, but see she comes to no harm, Patrick Nolan, or you’ll have me to answer to,’ Ellen said sternly.
‘Don’t you worry, Mrs O, I’ll guard her like me own,’ Patrick shouted over his shoulder.
‘What are you laughing at, Doctor Munroe?’ Ellen said, turning on him with a stern expression.
‘You, Mrs O’Casey,’ he said, still smiling at her. ‘She’s only gone to see a mermaid, not to the other side of the globe. Let me buy you a lemonade.’
He led her over to the trestle table where various cool drinks, such as soda water, ginger beer and homebrew were being offered. She should have been annoyed with him for interfering, but instead she found she was glad that Josie had gone with Patrick because now she had him to herself.
He found them a couple of chairs and they sat down across the way from the striped puppet booth of the Punch and Judy. They sipped their lemonade and the curtain opened for the show, Punch appearing with his big stick.
‘I’m sure young Patrick will look after Josie,’ Robert said, giving her a reassuring smile. ‘He seems an amiable type of fellow.’
Punch’s wife appeared with the baby in her arms and a sad smile crept across Ellen’s face. She turned to Robert. ‘They all are ’til they wed.’
Robert heard the echo of the past in Ellen O’Casey’s voice as she softly answered him. Behind her, Punch felled his puppet wife with his stick and the children sitting on the grass roared. Robert moved nearer to her.
He had argued strenuously with William and Maltravers when they had dragged him from his rooms that morning, saying that he had a report for the Emergency Committee to complete. They would have none of it, saying he would turn into a very dull egg and it was their duty as gentlemen to take him to the fair in Bow.
Now he was glad that they had ignored his protestations and insisted on him accompanying them. He had been enjoying the sights and sounds of the fair alone when he spotted Ellen. He had stood leaning against a tent pole for some time just watching her as she walked through the holiday throng. He loved every minute of it. Watching her laughing in the spring sunshine, all of the battles that had raged in him from the moment he had seen Ellen were over.
He realised that his own heart had stopped him from the folly of proposing to Caroline. How could he have been so blind? With a sudden clarity of vision Robert knew that he loved Ellen. He didn’t know how or why, or what he could actually do about it, if anything, but he did know that he would never be able to pay court to another while she filled his thoughts. No argument about society, profession, class or suitability came into it. He was captivated by her and couldn’t escape. And now he wasn’t even sure he wanted to.
‘I’m sure that Pat Nolan is no worse than any other young lad,’ Ellen said, a hint of bitterness in her tone, her eyes still fixed on the Punch and Judy booth where the devil had made his entrance. ‘He is no worse than Michael O’Casey when I first laid eyes on him.’
Dozens of questions spun around in Robert’s mind. What was this Michael like? How did he die? What kind of husband was he? Had she loved him? Did she love him still?
‘I hear you’ve been busy looking into drains and sewers in the neighbourhood,’ Ellen said, changing the subject before he could ask any of them. He raised an eyebrow in surprise. ‘There are no secrets in these streets, Doctor Munroe. I’m forever hearing about the handsome doctor who’s inspecting the water pumps in Ratcliffe Highway.’ She gave him a flirtatious smile that sent Robert’s heart racing.
He stood up and straightened the front of his waistcoat. ‘Handsome, you say?’ he said, with an exaggerated swell of his chest.
‘I do not,’ she replied, raising her eyebrows, ‘I merely repeat others’ opinions.’ Despite Ellen’s disdainful reply Robert could see that the warmth in her eyes belied her words.
‘Well, your sources are only half correct, because it’s not just drains I’m looking into but also the repair and provision of housing and sanitary conditions. ‘He stopped and a frown crossed his face. ‘Although the Board’s findings were only just beginning to be analysed, I can already see’ - he stopped.
Ellen put her tumbler down and stood up next to him. He felt the light pressure of her hand on his arm as she pulled him to face her. ‘What is it?’
He gave her half a smile. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, as they moved on, stopping under the shade of a plane tree at the edge of the fair. ‘It is as Chafford said. I am turning into a dull egg if on a day such as today and in the company of such a beautiful woman I am talking about sewers and drains.’
Ellen laughed. It was a deep throaty laugh. He took a step nearer to her, took hold of her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it hard. Then, looking deep into Ellen’s eyes, he dropped his voice a tone.
‘With you to myself, I should be talking of flowers and love, not drainage and sewers,’ he said, as her eyes widened, and Robert caught an unmistakable flash of desire as she ran her glance over his face in an unhurried fashion, taking in every line.
‘Ellen,’ he said, as he drew her to him. She didn’t move away but continued gazing up at him with the assured look of a woman who knows she is desired. Her thumb caressed his knuckles.
‘Beautiful, you say, Doctor Munroe?’ she asked as he leant over her.
He wanted to kiss her.
‘Beautiful, I do say,’ he replied, in a low, resonant tone.
‘Ma, there you are,’ Josie’s voice came between them. ‘I’ve been looking an age for you.’ Robert felt Ellen tense and push him away. He cursed silently.
Although he was actually quite fond of Ellen’s bubbly daughter, at that moment he could have wished Josie anywhere else on earth but at the Bow fair. Couldn’t Patrick Nolan find some other curiosity to keep the girl occupied for a minute or two longer?
He dropped his arms to his sides and turned to face the two young people coming towards them. Josie was hanging onto Patrick’s arm and the young man looked as if he had found the crock of gold at the end of an Irish rainbow.
‘Here she is, Mrs O,’ Patrick said to Ellen, giving her a speculative look. ‘All safe and sound.’
‘Er - thank you, Patrick,’ Ellen said, giving the young man a melting smile. Robert saw Patrick’s surprise.
‘Have you got something in your eye?’ Josie asked as she looked into Ellen’s flushed face.
‘No,’ Ellen said, putting her hand to the bun at the nape of her neck and patting it in place. ‘Whatever makes you think that, child?’
‘Just the way Doctor Munroe was standing over you. It seemed as if he was looking into your eye,’ Josie said with a shrug. Patrick covered his mouth and forced a dry cough.
Ellen’s back snapped upright and she patted her hair again. Swinging out the folds of her skirts she cleared her throat. ‘Doctor Munroe was just... looking to ... that is to say...’ She took a smart step forward. ‘Shall we walk on then?’
It wasn’t often that Josie got the better of her mother, but today at the fair would rank as one of her most memorable victories. She almost laughed out loud at her ma’s confusion. It was clear as the nose on her face that Doctor Munroe was extre
mely interested in her mother.
As they walked towards the Hall of a Thousand Mysteries she felt Patrick take her arm and they fell in step behind her mother and the doctor.
‘There’s a thing and no mistake,’ he said to her out of the corner of his mouth. ‘Your ma and Doctor Munroe canoodling with each other.’ He was grinning from ear to ear.
He put his arm around Josie’s waist and pulled her to him. ‘She wouldn’t be able to tick you off for having me as your fella.’ He pursed his lips and leant towards her.
She shoved him aside roughly but sent him a saucy smile. He blew a silent kiss into the air and she felt her cheeks grow hot.
‘Who says you’re my fella?’
‘I guessed I was from the way you were kissing me behind the refreshment tent.’
‘Shh. Do you want to be getting me an ear-bashing, Patrick Nolan?’ She cast an anxious glance at her mother’s back but there was no danger of Ellen overhearing them. She was engrossed in something Doctor Munroe was telling her.
Josie’s gaze fixed on Doctor Munroe. He looked just right standing next to her mother, their heads bent towards each other. She’d liked him on their first meeting. He wasn’t stuffy like old Doctor Crichton, who used to own the surgery. Not that she’d seen him often because the elderly doctor was most particular about his sixpence fee, and he had been gruff with her and smelt of drink.
Doctor Munroe was quite the opposite. He didn’t take his handkerchief out and hold it to his nose as he entered her room or jab her painfully during his examination. For that alone she had liked him, but when he had laughed at her mention of Waisy, he went to the top of her list of nice people along with Ma, Gran and, of course, Patrick. And she knew about poor Kitty and how it had been Doctor Munroe who had eased her last hours.
‘I don’t think yer ma could have you by the ear, not with Doctor Munroe wanting to be stepping out with her,’ Patrick countered, tucking his thumbs in the arms of his waistcoat.
No Cure for Love Page 12