He fell asleep glad in the knowledge that he must keep Joel's secret, because now he felt it was better that Adella was not exposed to such a man as the elder Mr Polwarth. She would be an innocent girl at the hands of a ruthless tyrant.
Chapter 11
“Did you say breakfast was ready?” Leonard said to Adella. He was stood in the kitchen doorway and Adella was busy in front of the stove.
“Yes. Best eat it now before it gets cold,” she said over her shoulder. “You'd better be quick, your appointment is soon.”
Leonard nodded, and was about to go to the dining room, “Here, take your jacket,” Adella said. “I think the smell of cigar smoke has gone.” She held it out and he took it. “Oh, and these papers fell out of the pocket.”
The annuity.
Leonard snatched the papers. His heart skipped a beat, “You - you did not read them?”
Adella's mouth gaped open and she placed both hands on her hips, “Leonard! How could you ask such a thing! You know I would not do anything of the sort!”
He reddened. The danger passed, and his pulse beat slowed.
“Er, sorry. No of course not. It's just that they were given to me by a patient and are excessively private.”
“Well, if they are highly sensitive then I'll take a look!” she held out her hand still with the same indignant look on her face.
“Very amusing,” Leonard muttered and walked into the dining room. But as he sat down to eat his breakfast, he scolded himself for being so careless. How could he have forgotten about the annuity papers in his jacket? It was too close a call. He only knew Joel's secret for twelve hours and had nearly faltered already.
He ran his hand through his hair and then suddenly stood up. He went upstairs and locked the papers in his writing desk. Adella may not look at them, even if they were hanging around, but he would prefer they were safely tucked away for the time being. Then he noticed he was angry. It was all aimed at Joel. He may have wanted to make sure that Adella never faced poverty, but it was an imposition to leave it to him, her brother to come up with an idea as to how to tell her about it.
A few minutes later, back in the dining room, Adella sat down with him. Their conversation was somewhat stifled.
“Will you go straight to church after seeing Mrs Polwarth?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Adella nodded and took another bite of her toast as she regarded her brother.
“Leonard?”
“Yes.”
“You do not mind seeing Mrs Polwarth. I mean, after everything I told you, I hope it is not too awkward for you when you visit her?”
“No, not at all. Mr Polwarth is rarely there when I call.”
Adella raised her brows, “Perhaps he is out trying to seduce a governess.”
“Perhaps.”
Leonard placed his cup down, his face grew serious. “You know, George Fadden was asking after you again the other day when I visited his mother.”
“Really?” her voice was nonchalant.
“Yes, and I think if you gave him a little encouragement, he would like it. He is a good man. I'm sure if you got to know him, you would like him too.”
“I do like him, he is very nice, very pleasant. When he can stop blushing. . .”
“You should not let Mr Polwarth affect the rest of your life. Not all men are like him.”
Adella stared at her plate and in a quiet voice said, “I know, and I have been thinking a similar thing recently. In fact, I think it would be a good thing to be open to the attentions of a man such as Mr Fadden. I like him, and his family. He is the sort of man who I can tell does not hold any secrets.”
Leonard smiled, “Well then. Next time I see him, I will invite him for tea. What do you say to that?”
Adella nodded. “Very well.”
***
Leonard left shortly afterwards, and Adella's thoughts went to those papers that fell from Leonard's pocket. She wondered what might be in them that was so secretive. It was certainly true that people trusted their doctors with more than their health. She lost interest after a while and was soon thinking of other matters; the house work, the errands she was to run, and more importantly the fact that since her last meeting with Joel, she decided that she must move on. She wasn't quite sure how she would do it. But she knew she had to. The problem was, with him living so close by, the risk of running into him hung over her. She wondered whether she should be more open to receiving the compliments of other men. She would see what happened when Mr Fadden came to tea.
In the afternoon, Adella made her way into the centre of Bath. The streets were busy, and as she weaved her way around the people, and arrived at the Alther's shop, she found it closed. She rang the private bell, and waited. After a short while, a face appeared at the door, then the locks were thrown back.
“We were closed for lunch for a change! But the door is never locked for you,” Mrs Alther said.
Adella smiled in return, “Thank you, but you should not make exception for me. You deserve a quiet break from all the customers for a short time at least.”
“You are no trouble, besides, come and sit out the back and keep me company for a few minutes while Mr Alther does that prescription. I can tell you what Helen got up to yesterday when she visited Alexandra Park!”
Adella could well imagine what Helen got up to without any explanation, and wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know. But she said nothing and followed Mrs Alther into the back office. It was as cluttered as ever; Mrs Alther was brewing some herbs on the small stove, and there were a dozen empty jars sat waiting on the side ready to be filled. The rest of the room was filled with clutter; books and papers, jars and bottles. At least there was somewhere to sit down.
“She outdid herself this time!” Mrs Alther explained, “she was dressed up to the nines and paraded herself about whenever she saw any young gentleman. Flirting she was! No other word for it! Flirting! Fluttering her eyelids, dropping her handkerchief on purpose in the hope that a gentleman would pick it up. Poor Flora nearly had a turn! She tried to stop her, but Helen wouldn't listen. In the end, Flora hid behind the band stand for quarter of an hour, then ran home to get me.”
Adella could not stop herself from giving a little laugh, “Poor Flora, she puts up with a great deal from Helen I think.”
“Yes. It is my mission now that Flora finds a husband as well as Helen. She might think herself an old maid but stranger things have happened. I was nearly twenty nine when I married Mr Alther.”
Adella was about to reply, when their conversation was interrupted by a loud banging on the door.
“Now who could that be?” Mrs Alther hoisted herself up from the table and walked out. Adella followed.
“Someone wants to come in,” Mr Alther said, as he crushed tablets with the pestle and mortar.
“Hmm, not seen him before, but he looks desperate. Shall I open it?”
It was a boy stood outside the shop door peering through. He was small, about nine or ten years old with dark well combed hair. His clothes looked respectable. He must be a paid errand boy. As soon as he saw Mrs Alther he shouted, “Please Missus, please, will you let me in? It's an emergency!”
“Alright, alright,” she said, as she took her large bundle of keys out of her apron pocket and unlocked the door.
The boy took off his cap and scrunched it in his hand, wringing it as he spoke. Still stood outside he said nervously, “Please Missus, there's a terrible emergency; is Dr Preston there?”
“Why no! But his sister is here.” She indicated to Adella.
“Please Miss,” the boy said, “It's Mrs Polwarth. She's hurt real bad. She fell over and there's blood everywhere coming out of her arm. We need Dr Preston to stop it bleeding. I ran to his house, but he weren't there, the woman next door said you'd most likely be here.”
“Dr Preston is in Perrymead and will not be back for at least another half hour.” Adella said calmly and not betraying any emotion at the mention of Mrs
Polwarth.
“You could go though couldn't you Adella? You've learnt a few things from your brother these last few years haven't you? You know how to bandage a wound?” Mrs Alther asked.
“Well, yes I suppose. But wouldn't it be better that you went?” Her voice trembled a little.
“Me dear! Oh no dear! I can't bear the sight of blood. Never could do, could I Mr Alther?” she gave a nervous chuckle.
Mr Alther still stood behind the counter said, “No. Never liked blood. Best keep her away from it if you don't want her fainting.”
Mrs Alther gave a single firm nod of her head.
“Please Miss. Please,” the boy pleaded. 'I'll get a thick ear if I go back alone.”
She sighed deeply, “Very well. I will go and tend to Mrs Polwarth immediately, I know where it is. But you must run and get Dr Preston. He is at Mr Carmichael's, 19 Popes Walk. Run as quickly as you can.”
The boy nodded, repeated, “19 Popes Walk,” then ran off.
“I will need dressings,” Adella said turning back to Mrs Alther.
“Coming right up.” A moment later she was back, holding a large bundle. “Best take a bottle of iodine too,” she placed a large brown bottle with a cork stopper on top of the dressings.
“Thank you,” Adella said and took them. She had little time to think through the implications of where she was about to go. One thought flashed through her mind; would he be there? She quickly suppressed it. She was going to help her brother's patient. That was all. Everything else was of no consequence. Her legs almost gave way at the thought of entering his house again.
“Tell Flora and Helen I will call later to see them.”
“Very well. Good luck.”
She was pushed out the door found herself hurrying to South Parade. She calculated that it would take her about five minutes if she walked fast, and that Leonard could be there in about half an hour if he left Mr Carmichael's immediately. It would take great skill to dress the wound so that it stopped bleeding. And how bad would it be? She hoped it was not as the boy described; blood everywhere. She wasn't sure whether she could cope with a large amount of blood.
She found herself outside the house far sooner than she expected and ran up the few steps, rang the bell breathing heavily due to the exercise.
The door opened quickly and a pale-faced maid ushered her in after she explained who she was, not questioning her ability to perform the task.
“Follow me quickly, she is upstairs,” the rustle of their clothes was the only sound heard as they quickly made their way up. But this time, instead of the drawing room, Adella was taken up to the next floor; one of the bedrooms. Her mind was a blur with each step. She tried not to notice the soft plush carpet beneath her feet, or the pristinely decorated stairway.
She walked into the room, and with a quick flick of her eyes, saw a crowd all stood around the grand four poster bed. The maid who opened the door made room for Adella and finally she saw Mrs Polwarth lying on the bed, a pathetic creature with one hand on her forehead and the other up in the air, being held by one of the female servants.
Adella did not look at the peoples faces to see if one of them was him. “Please, everyone leave, except you,” she commanded and pointed to the maid who held Mrs Polwarth's arm. The servants obeyed, though she only noticed them gone after she heard a click from the door as it closed behind them.
Adella stood towering over Mrs Polwarth and took a good look at the task before her. She was under the covers, still in her night gown which was completely clean. There was a bloodstained towel next to her on the bed. Her hair was loosely tied in plaits either side of her pale face, that framed her sunken eyes.
“Please help me,” Mrs Polwarth said in a pathetic tone, “I have lost so much blood already.”
Adella walked around the bed and said to the frightened looking maid, “Get me some hot water.”
“Yes Miss,” and she left the room quickly, and paused only to hand over the arm.
Adella peeled away the blood soaked muslin that covered the wound. It instantly oozed a little, but bled no further. The wound was only a few inches along the upper arm, and not as deep as she expected. The errand boy's plea that there was 'blood everywhere' was somewhat of an exaggeration. She silently thanked Mrs Alther's foresight at giving her the iodine. But before she could do anything she needed to clean it.
“My brother will be here as quickly as possible,” she said, and then after examining the wound said “It is not too bad, I will have it cleaned up presently.”
“Very well,” Cynthia said.
“How on earth did you do this?” Adella asked.
Cynthia turned her head away in defiance, so as not to answer, but then must have changed her mind, “It was an accident, with the letter opener. I fell over, and I was holding the letter opener the wrong way. It cut me as I fell.”
“Well,” Adella said, 'at least it didn't get you near your vital organs.”
The water arrived quickly, the servants had obviously foreseen its need. She washed the wound with the water and then the iodine. If she was desperate to get out of the place she did not betray it in any other form than the speed at which she worked.
“I do not think it will need stitches, but it is best if I place a temporary bandage so that Dr Preston can decide for himself.”
“Very well, I hope I will not need stitches, I would need a great amount of Laudanum if I do.”
A few minutes of silent work and the bandage was fitted. “There. You must keep your arm elevated. It will help stop the bleeding.”
“Very well. I was not going to get up today anyway,” she sighed and lowered herself further down the bed. Then after a moment she stared at Adella, her eyes became shrewish, and her voice spiteful. “I know who you are.”
Adella glanced at her, “Of course, we have met before. A little over a week ago when I came with your tonics. I am Dr Preston's sister.”
“I know that. I know you are Dr Preston's sister and that we have met before. But I knew who you were the moment I heard your name that day. You are the girl who claimed to be engaged to my husband.” She let out a small nervous laugh.
Adella felt herself instantly redden.
“It was not a false claim. Though it may well appear that way, since Mr Polwarth denied it.”
Cynthia scoffed. “You still delude yourself now! Well, you must envy me very much.”
Adella looked at her lying in bed, arm above her head. This dying woman. Pale and wane. Cynthia must have sensed at least a little of what she thought because she instantly said, “Oh, not my little illnesses. No, you envy me because you wanted Joel to be your husband. But he chose me. I am Mrs Polwarth and I am the happiest of wives. It certainly has been the happiest five years of my life. He is so thoughtful and considerate as well as being excessively rich. I want for nothing.”
Adella picked up the towel on the bed and put it in a laundry bag.
“I will not deny that at one time in my life I wanted Mr Polwarth to be my husband much. But not any more. I cannot envy you.”
“Not envy me?” she gave another irritating laugh. “How can you not envy me? I want for nothing.”
Adella continued unperturbed, “You have a husband who lies and does not honour his vows. So, no Mrs Polwarth, I do not envy you.”
“What impudence! He does not break his vows. You do envy me! You will envy me! Even though you say you do not. You. . .you little -” Cynthia stared at her in defiance.
Adella said nothing in return, though a thousand insults were at her lips, ready to be voiced. She kept her silence, if only for the sake of her brother and his reputation. But a quick look at the dying woman on the bed made her realise that insulting her would be a depraved thing to do. Besides, if she was to move on like she wanted to, she must let it pass.
“Would you like me to stay until my brother arrives? Or should I ring the bell for your maid?” Adella said after she packed away everything.
“You can w
ait in the kitchen with the other servants until he arrives I suppose,” Cynthia said. “I don't want you here.”
“I would not wish to inconvenience your hard working servants. Good day Mrs Polwarth,” she said mustering all the civility she could.
Cynthia said nothing, she looked up at Adella and gave a dismissive wave of her arm.
Adella grabbed the door handle, and as she turned it, she felt someone on the other side turn it at the same time. Expecting it to be her brother, she let go, stepped back and waited for him to enter.
But it wasn't her brother.
It was Joel.
He looked at her immediately and then at his wife. He paused and momentarily took in exactly what he saw, his mouth slightly open as though he was going to say something.
Their eyes met for one brief moment.
“Oh Joel!” Mrs Polwarth said, “My dear husband, where have you been? I have nearly bled to death.”
He walked over to the bed and briefly glanced at Adella again, “What happened?”
Cynthia started to explain, and Adella saw her opportunity to leave. She stepped as quietly as she could through the open doorway and began walking down the steps.
She made her escape.
Almost.
“Miss Maxwell!”
She heard her name called from the top of stairs by an all too familiar voice.
She stopped halfway down, but did not look round.
“Miss Maxwell,” she heard him call again, this time more insistently.
Sprig of Thyme Page 14