Kay was so taken aback that for a moment she stared at her companion wondering if she had heard correctly. His expression told her nothing, his features were masklike, and yet it appeared to Kay that he was closely watching her reactions to his words. “That would certainly simplify matters.” Kay’s tone sounded strange in her own ears and yet she could not have explained why his statement had so much disturbed her, it seemed a natural and obvious thing for him to do, and it was only surprising that such a solution had never crossed her own mind when battling with Christine’s problems. Gaining confidence, she added: “If you want a real home for Christine, then there can be no better way,” she ended with finality, and almost unaware of her own actions, made to rise.
“No, please don’t go yet.” He laid a detaining hand on her arm and she sank back into her chair. “Forgive me pestering you with my affairs, and try to bear with me a little longer. You agree there can be no better solution, but somehow you spoke without warmth as if in some way my suggestion shocked you.”
“No ... no ...” Kay protested, but her tone lacked conviction. “It must obviously be the best thing for Christine ...” She broke off, seeking some further words of assurance, but they persistently evaded her. She couldn’t bring any real enthusiasm into her voice, and yet in her heart she felt the wisdom of his suggestion. She loved Christine and it would be for the child’s good. In adopting her, Raynal had saddled himself with a grave responsibility and it was a responsibility which, she told herself, could never be fully discharged without someone to take a mother’s place. Then why couldn’t she applaud the idea, give him her wholehearted approval, for which he was so obviously waiting? “... quite the best thing for Christine...” parrot-fashion and tonelessly she found herself repeating her own words.
Raynal knocked out his pipe and placed it carefully on the small table by his side. “You agree with me, but somehow you still leave me unconvinced.” He rose from his chair and digging his hands in his pockets, stood before the fire, his shoulders leaning against the mantelpiece. Silence hung between them, then, moving away, Raynal slowly paced the floor until, stopping directly facing the chair in which Kay sat, he compelled her gaze. “You think that it all hangs on choosing the right woman? Then why not say so? ... After all I might choose a wrong governess, mightn’t I?”
“They are more readily changed.”
“So that was in your mind.” There was a note of satisfaction in Raynal’s voice. “I thought there was something, why didn’t you say so?”
“It’s hardly my affair to give you instructions on how to choose your future wife.” Kay’s lips curled and there was the familiar glint of anger in her eyes. “I agreed the idea was good, I sincerely hope you won’t seek my opinion on the woman of your choice.”
“Kay...” Raynal paused, but he continued to hold her attention with a fixed stare. “Don’t let’s end with one of our inevitable quarrels...” He forced a laugh. “I was patting myself on the back over our forebearance lately, it would be a pity to smirch the record.” His tone was gentle and instead of returning to his chair, to Kay’s surprise he seated himself on the low fireside stool which Christine had recently vacated. His face was half turned from her and in the fading light of evening, his profile was clearly outlined by the windows beyond him. Stillness had fallen again, only broken by the crackle of the wood fire and tinkle of a cinder as it fell on the hearth.
In the silence Kay was aware of a deep sense of rest, the comfortable atmosphere of the room seemed to be holding her as if in a spell. Her momentary anger had gone and she was conscious of a sense of unreality. And yet, underlying that atmosphere of peace, there struck a warning note of fear, something indefinable to which she was determinedly shutting her mind. Her premonition seemed fully justified as she listened, stupefied, to Raynal speaking.
“Kay, will you marry me? Will you make a home for Christine, the sort of home my brother meant her to have?” He had turned to her as he spoke and now the light from the window was behind him and his expression was barely visible in the glow-from the fire.
In a second, that false sense of security had left Kay and she was only aware of the tumultuous beating of her heart which, in her imagination, seemed to fill the silence like muffled hammer blows. Instinctively she lifted her hand and laid it on her chest, as if she would still the sound, but quickly dropped it back in her lap, clenching her fingers to stop their trembling. Her lips moved to frame an answer, but no words came, there was no thought with which to frame them, her mind was completely blank.
“Kay, do you understand, I am asking you to marry me?” Raynal’s voice was infinitely gentle as he repeated the question, and Kay found herself reasoning again, but stupidly and without coherent idea. She’d never heard him speak in quite such tones before ... except of his dead brother or Christine, yes, when he had spoken of them, she had recognized that same deep gentleness with which he had just addressed her.
“I suppose I should be flattered...” Kay laughed softly and was horrified to hear an almost hysterical note in the sound. Gripping her fingers together she sought for control, as she continued more calmly, “... flattered that you think I am the proper person to make a home for Chris ... but I can’t do it, you must realize that ... it wouldn’t be fair ... to you ... or to me,” she ended, and her last words were scarcely above a whisper.
Raynal leaned forward and disengaging her hands held them in his. “I don’t know why you say it would not be fair to me, I should indeed be lucky—and happy—if you accepted, and as for you ... well...” He paused as if uncertain of the wisdom of continuing, then, his hands closing more firmly on hers, he continued: “I inadvertently overheard part of a conversation you were having with Nurse Ling in your office this morning ... the door was ajar...” he smiled apologetically. “I could hardly help overhearing. You told her that you’d be glad to marry for a home ... to give up nursing ... to enjoy freedom at last, you did say that, didn’t you?”
“Yes...” Kay tried to free her hands, but as Raynal’s hold tightened, she let them lie inertly in his. “One does sometimes say things...” Her voice trailed away, then, with a burst of confidence, she added: “Supposing I did mean it? I haven’t had much life so far, you know, I went to hospital straight from school ... I suppose I should have gone on and on ... as many other nurses and Sisters nave done ... without noticing, without minding...” Her voice gained in strength and purpose as she continued: “It was the fact that I so nearly won that freedom, only to have it snatched away again that made me bitter. Is it surprising that I spoke as I did?”
“Not in the least, I haven’t suggested that it was. I am only asking if you really meant it, and if you did, then...” He paused, and rising to his feet, drew Kay up with him, until they stood confronting one another, her hands still imprisoned in his, his face, as he looked down at her, so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek “Then will you accept my offer, will you marry me and allow me to give you all those things you want?”
Kay was now glad of Raynal’s supporting hands, her knees were shaky and she felt, should he relax his hold, she would fall. Her heart still beat heavily, but the sense of futility had gone. Marriage to Peter Raynal, the very idea was fantastic and yet he was right, it meant so much—freedom, security! She loved Chris and the child’s welfare would now become her responsibility and concern. Chris, fatherless, and now motherless, need fret no longer about boarding schools, and in her imagination she could again hear the child’s pathetic pleading. A home of her own too ... probably one she could love and take a pride in, perhaps lovelier even than Aldon Farm ... no more St. Jude’s ... but that was ending anyway ... no question of that terrifying nursing home, she could write to them and say she’d changed her mind! She lifted her face and saw Raynal bending towards her, his steel-blue eyes fixed questioningly, and yes, anxiously, upon her. Did he really mind so much about her answer, did he really care so much for Christine’s welfare, so much that he was prepared to support for
the rest of her life a girl he didn’t even care about? The question seemed unanswerable and beyond the expectancy in his gaze, his expression told her nothing.
“Yes, I’ll marry you.” Kay’s voice seemed to come from a distance and she had hardly been aware of speaking.
“Thank you, I will do my best to see that you never regret it” Before Kay had realized what was happening, Raynal had released her hands and was drawing her closer until their shoulders touched and she could fed the beat of his heart through the thin silk of her blouse. “You are free tomorrow, aren’t you? I expect you’ll want to spend an hour or two in the morning with your mother, how about meeting me around twelve, we’ll run down to ‘Chudleigh,’ and have lunch on the way. I’d like you to see the place—there may be some alterations you’d like. Would you consider marrying as soon as you’ve finished with St Jude’s? Even should you wish to do some alterations, the place is quite ready for occupation and you could go straight down to your future home.”
Kay nodded mutely, scarcely trusting herself to speak. It all seemed so easy, so natural, and Raynal was discussing the matter as if it had all been planned for years. She was deeply aware too, of the comforting grip of his arms, so gentle compared with Robin’s, and yet so firm and sure. She could lean on him, he’d plan and think for her and look after her; with him she could find the peace and security she had always longed for. If only there could have been love too. A long drawn sigh escaped her lips, hastily she choked it back, but Raynal was not deceived.
“What’s the matter?” His eyes crinkled in the corners and a whimsical smile hovered round his mouth. “Regrets already?”
“No ... I ... don’t think so.” Kay forced herself to return the smile. “I was thinking over what you said. Yes, I’d like to go with you tomorrow, and when I leave hospital ... that ... that is if it suits you ... I’ll be willing to marry.”
“It does suit me—ten days is ideal for an engagement—perhaps a trifle over long.” He placed his fingers beneath her chin and tilted her face up to his. “Perhaps you don’t realize that I’m not thinking only of Christine, I am far too selfish for that.”
The words were ambiguous but sent a quiver through Kay’s body. What did he mean? Anxiously she sought his face as if seeking an answer there, but his expression was inscrutable.
“I’d like to tell Christine myself, so I think it’s better if you leave before she comes back ... You don’t mind, do you?” he said hastily, then added: “I feel it is better that way.”
“Of course.” She agreed readily. “She will be pleased, won’t she?” Kay knew well enough the answer, but somehow she longed for confirmation.
“Need you ask me that? ... She will be as pleased as I am—and that is saying a great deal.”
Kay was scarcely aware of his lips as they met hers, the touch was so gentle, so fleeting that it was almost as if it had not happened at all. Yet as she walked along the deserted pavements towards her bus she could still feel that brief moment of contact, which for some inexplicable re son had sent a shiver through her ... a shiver of apprehension, not entirely untinged with fear.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A lurking sense of fear remained with Kay until long after she had reached St. Jude’s, when, slipping quietly past the nurses’ lounge and dining room, she reached the sanctuary of her own bedroom. Once there, she had turned the key in her door and switching off her lights, had quickly undressed and slipped between her sheets. She hadn’t felt she could face anyone until she had brought some sort of order to her chaotic thoughts and with no slip of light showing beneath her door, even Janet was unlikely to intrude. Kay had tried to recall every word Raynal had said, the tone he had used, and the expression on his face when he made his proposal of marriage, but they persistently eluded her, as if a curtain had been drawn across her mind. She had slept in fitful spasms and her restless dreaming had only served to add to the unreality of the afternoon. At each awakening the idea of marrying Peter Raynal grew more fantastic, more unreal, until at moments she began to believe the whole thing was no more than a story woven in her dreams.
The early morning light was now filtering through the half-drawn curtains and there were already sounds of movement in the corridors. Kay sat up and drawing up her knees, she clasped her hands around them as she stared unseeingly through the gap in the curtains, across the roof-tops to the red glow of the sky. Her lids felt heavy with lack of sleep, she was glad at least that she was off duty and there was no need to get up until she felt more composed. Perhaps, in the full light of day she would be more able to view the happenings of yesterday dispassionately, she consoled herself, and resting her chin on her knees, she gave herself up to her thoughts. As Kay tried to reason quietly and calmly, she found her lips silently framing the words: “I have promised to marry Peter Raynal ... to be his wife ... in just over a week we’ll be married.” It was true, of course it was true, it was daylight now, she was fully awake, this was no dream but a startling, unbelievable fact! But still she didn’t have to do it, her brain reasoned, she could always retract her promise and instead of meeting Raynal at twelve, she could leave a note with the porter ... Scarcely aware of moving, Kay picked up the folding writing-case from her bedside table and opening it on her knees, she took out the pen. It would be so simple, just a few lines, and surely it wouldn’t surprise him, he couldn’t have expected her to keep to such a fantastic promise. Although the pen was clasped in her fingers, her hand still lay inert by her side ... she must think it over carefully, she must consider exactly what she should write. She leaned her head back against the hard wood of the bed-rail. What on earth had made Raynal suggest marriage? Overhearing her wild assertion to Janet might have given him the necessary excuse for his proposal, but that didn’t explain his side of the bargain, however much he might have Christine’s welfare at heart, it seemed quixotic beyond words. But she must think carefully, she reminded herself, her side of the bargain was the thing that mattered, Raynal was quite capable of looking after himself. It meant all the things she longed for; he was obviously wealthy, attractive, and thoughtful ... generous ... considerate ... yes, he was all those things, the past weeks had proved it beyond dispute. Unconsciously her fingers touched her lips, as if she could still feel the intimacy of that kiss and that chill of uneasiness pervaded her senses again; how much more would he expect beyond her care of Christine and his home? Kay leaned forward and gripping the pen more closely between her trembling fingers, she wrote the address, then, aware of the unsteady writing, discarded the sheet and commenced again. The address, the date ... her hand dropped back again as she became lost once more in the turmoil of her thoughts.
A familiar tap on the door announced Janet’s presence. For a second Kay hesitated, then aware that she was only delaying the inevitable meeting, she leaned over on one side and without having to leave her bed, turned back the key.
Janet, in freshly-starched apron over her striped cotton frock, altered the room and closed the door behind her. “I do hope I didn’t disturb you ... no, I see I didn’t, you seem to be writing letters already. I thought you were going to have a nice lie in’!”
“Well, I am, aren’t I?” Kay forced a laugh which she hoped sounded natural. “I’ve no intention of hurrying, tell Mother I’ll be in to see her about ten.”
“I will.” Janet glanced at Kay’s bedside clock. “I was early this morning, I wanted to have a word with you before I go on duty. I’m longing to know about yesterday, have you come to a decision?”
For a second, Kay stared at her friend in bewilderment What on earth did Janet mean, how could she possibly know? Then in a flash, reason returned and forcing a laugh to cover her confusion, she answered: “Oh, the job I went after? The first two were hopeless, but I practically accepted the nursing home one, you remember, Theatre Sister in that large West End home.”
“Tell me about it ... is it a good post, are you going to like it?” Janet seated herself on the edge of the bed, concern and inte
rest showing in her expression.
“No, I’m not going to like it,” Kay spoke without emotion, “but I shall dislike it less than the others.”
“Oh, Kay, that’s not good enough!” Janet looked really worried. “Must you rush into things, surely something will turn up?”
“Something has turned up.” Kay spoke with slow deliberation, aware that she hadn’t intended to discuss that crazy moment with Peter Raynal, but suddenly the urge to unburden her mind, and the need for Janet’s counsel had become too strong for her. “Peter Raynal has asked me to marry him.”
If the floor had opened at her feet, Janet could not have looked more astounded, her eyes opened wide and her lips remained parted in astonishment as she sought for words. “Kay ... darling ... what ... what on earth are you saying? ... Are you just fooling? You can’t mean it!”
“But I do.” Kay was grateful for the sudden calm which sharing her news had brought her. Now she saw the effect of her disclosure on Janet, her own pent-up emotions seemed more excusable. “I went to tea with Christine yesterday—you remember I told you I was going. Raynal came in before I left and we were alone together for a time.”
“And while you were alone he asked you to marry him?” Janet shook her head in bewilderment. “I must be mad, I can’t get the idea at all. Have you discovered that you are in love with one another or something? Excuse my density, but really, for two people who have been at daggers drawn for months, it does not seem an extraordinary thing.”
“I didn’t say anything about love.” Kay spoke hesitantly. “I said that he had asked me to marry him ... it will solve his problem of Christine.” Kay looked up and for the first time met her friend’s eyes squarely. “It’s a job, isn’t it ... as good, or better than I am likely to find.” There was a hint of defiance in her voice.
Peter Raynal, Surgeon Page 20