He rose and left us.
“He’s a good man,” said Jessie. “Mind you, he likes to give the orders. Sometimes he’ll keep me out of the room. But there you are, he’s the doctor. I suppose we have to do as he says.”
I was silent. Dr. Cabel had made me feel that my uncle was in good hands.
He returned shaking his head.
“He’s sleeping,” he said. “He usually does at this hour. I’ll go up again in ten minutes. I want him to wake naturally.”
Dusk had crept into the room. We were silent for a few moments. Then the doctor said: “Do you intend to stay long, Mistress Ransome?”
“I am not sure. My husband is not really well and we have recently had a change of managers. Then there is my young daughter. …”
“Of course … of course. I see you have your responsibilities. I would keep you informed of Lord Eversleigh’s condition. He could go on like this for a very long time.”
“And it seems as if I can be of little help here.”
“Oh, I’m sure it do him good go see you,” said Jessie smiling at me.
“If he knows you … yes,” said Dr. Cabel.
“You think he might not … ?”
The doctor lifted his hands and swayed them from side to side again. “Well, we know how he is, don’t we, Mistress Stirling? There are times I think when he doesn’t know even you.”
“It’s true,” said Jessie, “and I’m silly enough to let that hurt a bit. … He was always …”
Dr. Cabel put his head on one side and looked at me quizzically.
He was a man of many gestures; immersed as I was in the state of my uncle’s health I could not help noticing this. But he did exude an air of comfort and efficiency.
After a while he said he would look in again. It was dark now and he took a candle to light himself up the stairs.
“He keeps us all in order,” said Jessie when he’d gone. “Sometimes you’d think he owned the place. But I turn a blind eye for I reckon he’s done a lot for Lordy.”
Dr. Cabel came down and nodded to me.
“Come now,” he said.
I followed him up the stairs, Jessie keeping up the rear.
Outside my uncle’s door Dr. Cabel turned to me. “You can’t stay long. I’ll give you a sign when I think he has had enough. Then I shall want you to slip away.”
Quietly he opened the door and we tiptoed in. Two candles were burning on the shelf over the carved fireplace.
The curtains were half drawn about the four-poster bed, shutting out much of the little light there was.
Dr. Cabel gently drew back one of the curtains and beckoned to me. I approached the bed. He was lying there with his eyes closed. He wore a nightcap which was pulled forward over his forehead. I had been warned but I was deeply shocked. I thought of him as I had last seen him; I remembered particularly those lively dark eyes. Now they were shut and he seemed only half alive. The skin was the same parchment color as I remembered—dry and wrinkled.
His hand was lying on the counterpane and I recognized the heavy signet ring which he had always worn.
“Take his hand,” whispered Dr. Cabel.
I did so. I felt the faintest pressure.
“Uncle,” I whispered.
His lips moved and there was a whisper. I thought it was: “Carlotta.”
“He’s trying to speak to you,” said Dr. Cabel.
“He thinks I’m my great-grandmother. He did sometimes.”
“Tell him you’ve come to see him. Tell him you’ve been thinking of him.”
“Uncle Carl.” I said, “I have come to see you. I hope we shall be able to talk while I’m here.”
I lifted the hand and kissed it. I noticed the smudge of brown near the thumb. He had once drawn my attention to it and called it one of the flowers of death. “Old people get them,” he had said. “It means youth is over.”
I felt overcome by emotion.
Dr. Cabel touched my arm lightly and nodded significantly.
He meant I must go.
I turned and was led out of the room.
Outside the door Dr. Cabel lifted the candle so that the light fell on my face.
“It was a shock,” he whispered. “I told you to be prepared.”
Jessie patted my arm.
“He might be a bit better tomorrow,” she said. “What do you think, doctor?”
“That’s so. He’s been told you’re here. He might remember tomorrow … I think he was pleased to see you. You’ve done him good.”
“He pressed my hand,” I said.
“And he tried to speak. That’s a good sign. Oh yes. Even though he mistook you for someone else. He was way back in the past. That was good … very good.”
“I’m glad I’ve seen him,” I said. “I think I’ll go to my room. I’m rather tired.”
“Yes, do,” said Jessie. “I’ll come along with you just to make sure everything’s all right. Doctor, light us to a candle will you.”
There were candles in various places about the house in case they were needed. I later realized that the servants placed them there an hour before dusk and collected them in the mornings.
We found two on a chest along the corridor and I said good night to Dr. Cabel, who went downstairs, and Jessie and I went to my room.
She lighted the four candles which had been put there for my use and looked round the room.
“You’ll sleep well,” she said. “You must be well nigh exhausted. Nothing for tiring you like traveling. What did you think of him? Did you expect to see him like that?”
“You had told me,” I said.
“When I think of what he was … and now lying there … it’s tragic.”
She blinked as though to hide a tear. I thought: Well, I suppose she is uneasy. If he died her comforts here would stop.
“If there’s anything you should want,” she said.
“Thank you.”
“Well, then, I’ll say good night.”
She went out. I looked at the door. I saw the key was there.
I unpacked a few of my things. The room seemed full of shadows … eerie, menacing even. I remembered vividly arriving here on that night … before I had met Gerard … before Lottie was conceived.
I locked the door and undressed. I tried to sleep but I found that impossible. There were too many memories here for my peace of mind; and I could not get out of my mind that of that poor old man lying there … the gentle pressure of his fingers … the name Carlotta … slurred, barely audible.
The sun was streaming into my room when I awoke next morning. I had slept late.
Almost as soon as I opened my eyes a maid came in bringing hot water.
She said: “Mistress Stirling said to let you sleep on. She reckoned you was worn out.”
“What time is it?”
“Eight of the clock, mistress.”
And I usually rose at seven!
I dressed and went downstairs. Jessie was in the hall in conversation with Dr. Cabel.
“How is Lord Eversleigh this morning?” I asked.
“Not so well,” said the doctor. “I think he was overexcited about your coming.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You mustn’t be. He’s delighted really … but of course any excitement is not good for him. We’ll go a little carefully. Leave him alone for today. He’s sleeping now. I’ve given him something to steady him.”
“I suppose I’d better not go in to dust round,” said Jessie. And to me: “I do it myself. I don’t want any of them girls banging around.”
“Leave the dust for today,” said the doctor.
“You’ll be wanting breakfast,” said Jessie to me, and I followed her into the winter parlor. There was oaten bread with ale and cold bacon. I noticed Jessie lick her lips as she surveyed it.
“You must be hungry. You must eat well while you’re here. I know what it’s like traveling. Never cared much for inn meals myself.”
I ate a little of t
he bacon and the bread. It was good. Jessie’s interest in food meant that she kept what we used to call a very good table.
“What will you do today?” I was asked.
“I’ll go for a walk, I think. Perhaps I’ll ride this afternoon. My horse needs some exercise. But I don’t intend to go far. I want to be at hand in case my uncle wakes up and would like to see me.”
“That’s an excellent idea. He may remember last night … on the other hand he may not.”
“Well, I’ll walk this morning. Just visit a few of the old haunts.”
I went to see Jethro. I told him that I had seen my uncle and he was very relieved about that.
“Why, Jethro,” I said, “I believe you thought he’d been spirited away.”
“Well, not having seen him, mistress …”
“He’s very ill evidently. This Dr. Cabel seems a very efficient man. I was only allowed to see my uncle briefly. I hope, though, that I shall be able to be with him longer today … perhaps I can have a little talk with him. He tried to speak.”
“Well, I’m that relieved, Mistress Zipporah, and I hopes I done the right thing in bringing you here.”
“You did, Jethro, and I can tell you I have felt a little happier knowing that you were here.”
He was very pleased and told me that things were much as usual on the estate. Amos Carew kept a sharp eye on everything—just as he always had—and everything was running smoothly. Lord Eversleigh never had much say in the way things were done.
I said good-bye to Jethro and returned to the Court.
I dined there with Jessie and the doctor. He seemed to have accepted Jessie’s position and after the meal he strolled out to the stables with me.
“Lord Eversleigh will probably want to see you later on. He’s still sleeping and I want to keep him like that … until he wakes naturally. We’ll see. I am so glad you have come, Mistress Ransome. It is a relief to me to have someone of the family here.”
He looked at me rather helplessly. “Mistress Stirling,” he went on, “well, the position I gather is somewhat irregular … but I’m afraid Eversleigh was always like that. He enjoyed life in his own way and it was generally rather an unconventional way. Still … this, er … Jessie is here. I gather he was quite fond of her. … He seems more at peace if she’s there about the place. He got used to her, I suppose, and she’s a good manager. The great thing is that Carl shouldn’t be worried. He needs rest. You know I feel that with the right treatment he could go on for a very long time.”
“It is fortunate that you were able to be here.”
“Well, he likes it … but you know any doctor could have done as much. There’s a very good fellow in the town, I’ve heard. I can’t do more than he would … but there is a point that I’m on the premises.”
“Well, thank you, Dr. Cabel.”
“Which is your horse?”
“The bay mare. We get on well together.”
“You ride a good deal, Mistress Ransome?”
“Yes. I always have done.”
“Good exercise.”
One of my grooms came up. He was preparing to return to Clavering.
“Master won’t be content till I’m back and tell him you’ve arrived safe,” he said.
I smiled. “Will you saddle for me, Jim? I’m taking a ride. When will you be leaving?”
“In less than an hour.”
“Well, tell them all it won’t be long before I’m sending for you to escort me back.”
“I’ll tell master that. It’ll please him.”
The doctor looked on benignly and was still there when I mounted and rode out of the stables.
It was almost as though my horse led me there, for in a very short time I could see the towers of Enderby. I rode up to the haunted patch thinking of the day I had stepped over the palings and found Gerard. I wondered if the people whom I had met at Enderby were still there and decided it might be interesting to call. I dismounted and as I did so my heart started to beat fast, for a man was leaning over that part of the palings which was firm and upright and for a moment I thought he was Gerard. Then I saw that he most certainly was not.
He was tall as Gerard had been but much more loosely built and far from elegant. He wore a small wig, hair drawn back from the face and tied at the back with a black ribbon, as worn by almost every man; his coat was wide skirted and came to just above the knees to disclose the ends of knee breeches and legs in dark brown hose and buckled shoes—his white cravat was plain, so was his waistcoat and of the same brown as the material of his coat. He had a pleasant expression, perhaps a little austere. It was an air of seriousness about him which made me think how different he was from Gerard.
“Good day,” he called.
I returned the greeting.
“Are you calling at the house?” he asked.
“Yes, I was going to.”
“Oh, you are a friend of the Forsters?”
“A neighbor … temporarily. I am staying at Eversleigh Court.”
“Oh?” he was clearly interested.
“Lord Eversleigh is a sort of uncle,” I explained.
“He’s very ill at the moment, I believe.”
“Yes,” I said.
“I too am calling at Enderby,” he told me.
I tethered my horse to the palings and we walked together toward the house.
“I hope they will remember me,” I said.
“I am sure they will. They have spoken of you.”
“To you?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m there often. As a matter of fact I’m Derek Forster’s brother.”
“Oh … are you … ?”
“The doctor,” he said.
I smiled. “I have heard of you.”
“Good reports, I hope.”
“Nothing to your detriment.”
“That is all a doctor can hope for.”
“When I came here before, your name was mentioned. You were not here then.”
“That must have been a little while ago. I have been here for about two years.”
Enderby looked different. A great number of trees had been cut down and there was a new lawn. It made the place brighter, less eerie. It must have been something like this when my mother’s aunt Damaris was the mistress of it. It no longer looked the dark, menacing house it once had.
The door opened and the woman I had previously met gave an exclamation of surprise.
“Charles!” she cried. “And …”
“I’ve brought a visitor,” he said.
“You won’t remember me,” I put in hastily. “I’m Zipporah Ransome.”
“But of course I remember you. You came before … oh, it was a long time ago. You’re related to Lord Eversleigh. Come in. Derek will be so pleased. And, Charles, how are you?”
She kissed his cheek lightly while she kept her eyes on me.
We went into the hall. Yes, it was considerably less gloomy.
“Derek!” she called.
Her husband came running down the stairs past the haunted minstrels’ gallery and I immediately remembered him. They had both been so friendly.
“You remember each other,” she said.
Derek Forster looked at me for a moment and I said: “Zipporah Ransome.” Then his face creased into a smile and he held out his hand.
“What a pleasant surprise! Come in. I am sure you are thirsty.”
“Not in the least,” I said.
“Oh, you must give Isabel a chance to try her elderberry wine on you,” said Derek. “She’ll be heartbroken if you don’t.”
“Will you try it?” she asked. She had such a pleasant, kindly face that I warmed to her immediately, and I remembered how much I had liked her previously when I had called with Sabrina.
“It would be lovely,” I said.
“Shall I tell them to bring it?” asked Dr. Forster.
“My dear Charles,” cried Derek, “there’s no need. It’s the order of the day. Visitors are here: Bring out
the elderberry. Mind you, it does change sometimes. The brew of the season might be dandelion or even sloe gin.”
“He’s exaggerating,” said Isabel. “What do you think of the house, Mistress Ransome? Do you see any changes?”
“It’s lighter … it’s … happier.”
She gave me a warm smile. “I know exactly what you mean.”
Soon we were sitting in the little room I remembered well, sipping the wine and nibbling the wine cakes which were, I gathered, part of the ritual.
“And how are things at the Court?” asked Derek.
“I arrived only yesterday.”
“We are flattered that you called so soon,” said Isabel.
“I remembered how welcoming you were last time.”
“We like to have visitors. It’s not exactly a social neighborhood now, is it, Derek?”
“I agree with that,” he said. “It would be so different if there were large families in the three houses … Eversleigh, Enderby and Grasslands. … I suppose there were at one time. Not anymore, though. How is Lord Eversleigh?”
“I have seen him only briefly. Apparently he had a seizure.”
Dr. Forster nodded. “He has a doctor in residence, I hear.”
“Yes, Dr. Cabel. He was an old friend. My uncle must have felt ill because he asked him to come and almost immediately afterwards he had this seizure.”
“I suppose he is fairly old,” said Derek.
“Yes … he’s old. He was confined to his room when I came some years ago. It’s wonderful that he has gone on so long.”
“We do occasionally see the housekeeper and I believe they have a very good man managing the estate.”
“Yes,” I said.
“It must be a comfort to know that he is well looked after.” Isabel went on: “The housekeeper’s daughter went to Grasslands and married Andrew Mather.”
“They’re quite a clever family,” said Derek.
“Now, Derek,” said Isabel.
“Well, they say that the housekeeper at the Court is mistress of the house, maîtresse-en-titre as it were, whereas her daughter is mistress de facto.”
“Derek!” Isabel was shocked that he should be so frank in my presence. She turned to me: “You must forgive Derek. He just speaks without thinking.”
Philippa Carr - [Daughters of England 09] Page 20