“Absolutely. Except for a bruised coccyx. That’s the tailbone. She went down rather hard, I’m afraid. But there’s no real damage, and the babies are perfectly fine.”
Gideon heaved a sigh of relief, then asked, “So I can take her home?”
The doctor paused and turned to face him. “There’s no reason why you can’t, but she must have bed rest for the remainder of the day. No harm’s been done, but I do think she should start her maternity leave. Immediately.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Gideon responded as they began to walk along the corridor again. “I’ve been trying to persuade her to do that for several weeks now We’re going up to Yorkshire on Saturday, but perhaps we ought to leave tomorrow. Her problem is that she’s a workaholic …” His voice trailed off.
“I know that, and I’ve just had a long talk with her about it. I told her to put her work on hold for the moment. I think you’ll find she’s now most amenable about leaving for Yorkshire tomorrow.” Dr. Addney chuckled. “Although she did say she was going to take her laptop with her.”
“Naturally!” Gideon exclaimed and laughed with him.
“Well, here we are,” the doctor said, pausing at one of the doors.
Gideon entered and hurried over to the bed, relieved that Evan looked exactly the same as she had this morning, except somewhat paler. She was sitting up in the bed, surrounded by pillows, obviously none the worse for the fall.
“Gideon!” she exclaimed. “Don’t look so upset! I’m all right.” She beamed at him, her large, gray-blue eyes full of love for him.
“I’ve been so worried,” he whispered as he bent over, put his arms around her, kissed her cheek, then stroked her dark head. “Actually, I was quite beside myself. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you and the twins, Evan. I love you all so much.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to us, Gideon darling. The three of us are perfect. Truly. And I love you, too. So will the boys, once they … pop out.”
Watching them, Charles Addney felt a flush of pleasure. How wonderful it was to see two people as much in love as they were. It did his heart good to know that they had managed to find each other in this dangerous and uncertain world. He closed the door quietly behind him and left them alone with their happiness in each other.
“How on earth did you manage to fall?” Gideon asked. He was sitting on the side of the bed, holding Evan’s hand, gazing into that face he had come to know so intimately in the past year and now loved so much.
She shook her head, gave a small laugh. “I don’t know, darling. Just clumsy, I suppose.”
“Clumsy? You? Never. You’re the most graceful person I know, have ever known, actually. Your mother said it was a fluky accident, so come on, tell me what exactly happened.”
Evan pursed her lips together, her eyes narrowing slightly as she wondered how best to explain. She wasn’t sure herself how she had managed to fall in the way she had. Clearing her throat, she explained, “I was standing by my desk, talking to Angharad … Oh, have you met her? She came to the hospital with Mom and Linnet.” Her dark brows lifted questioningly.
“Yes, I’ve met her,” he murmured, staring hard at her. “Are you saying she was in the room with you?”
“Oh yes, she’d come over to the store to see me. It was very unexpected, I didn’t even know she was in England.”
Gideon felt his hackles rising, and he sat up a little straighter, looking intently at Evan. “So, she was in the room. You were talking to her from behind the desk. And then what?”
“I reached behind me, pulled the chair toward me, the typing chair I use at my desk. I was quite sure it was right behind me, and I sat down. But it had rolled off to one side, and naturally I fell on the floor.”
Gideon nodded but said nothing. He couldn’t help wondering if Angharad had caused the accident. But how could she have? She was at the other side of the desk. Evan had just told him that. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help thinking she was responsible in some way for Evan’s nasty spill.
“When you fell, did she come to help you?” he wondered out loud.
“Yes, she came over to me, but she was really terrified, you know, that I might have badly injured myself, and so she just stood there, asking me if I was okay. I’d felt a stab of pain in my abdomen, so I brought my legs up, holding my stomach. Then Ruth appeared with the water I’d asked her to bring me earlier, and Mom and Linnet were with her. Mom ran over, got down on the floor next to me, and I told her to call the doctor.”
Evan now lay back against the pillows, her expression one of bafflement as she murmured, “I just don’t know how I could have been so careless, falling like that.”
“You weren’t careless, sweetheart. It’s as you said it was, a freak accident. Thank God you didn’t injure yourself. Now, let’s get you dressed. Dr. Addney says I can take you home, but you have to rest all day. And tonight. We’re going to Pennistone Royal tomorrow evening instead of on Saturday.”
“But I—”
“No buts, Evan. I’ve made the decision. The doctor told me you should start maternity leave now. So I’m afraid it’s no more Harte’s, not until well after the twins are born.”
“Oh, don’t say that! I hope there’ll be lots more Hartes. Well, one Harte in particular,” Evan said, smiling at him.
“I certainly hope you’re referring to me.”
“Of course I am, silly. Who else do I love but you?”
Little things kept coming back to her, things she had forgotten long ago. And yet they had been significant when they happened. Now they were coming to the fore, clear and vivid as they took shape again. And each memory was shaped and defined by one thing, Angharad’s jealousy and envy of her.
Evan lay under the duvet in the bedroom of Gideon’s flat. Their bedroom now, since she had moved in with him. They had wanted to live together once she had become pregnant; this aside, Gideon’s sister, Natalie, had returned from her sojourn in Sydney, and because it was her flat Evan was occupying, moving out had become mandatory.
“And why not live with me, your future husband?” Gideon had asked, adding, “Come live with me and be my love, and we will all the pleasures prove.”
“What lovely words.”
“Yes. But they’re not mine, Evan. They’re Christopher Marlowe’s, written in the sixteenth century. However, they truly do reflect my sentiments entirely.”
And mine as well, she thought now, pulling the duvet up around her shoulders, making herself comfortable. Both Dr. Addney and Gideon had impressed upon her that she should rest all day and evening, and she knew they were correct. She was all right, no harm had been done, but she’d had a bit of a shock. Rest was the best medicine, just as they had said.
Angharad.
The name hung there, floating in midair before her eyes.
Evan had not failed to miss the distaste in Gideon’s voice when he had mentioned her sister. And she completely understood why he had sounded that way. With the platinum blond hair and all that awful red clothing, she had looked flashy and a little bit cheap. Especially when contrasted with their mother, perfectly groomed and turned out in a mélange of soft beiges, and Linnet, in her smart black Chanel suit with its pristine white-satin collar and cuffs.
She couldn’t help thinking that Angharad and Elayne had been adopted on the spur of the moment, after her mother had had the hysterectomy. Why hadn’t they waited, her parents, let their emotional turmoil settle? Gran had always asked that, had been right as usual.
Once again, Evan cringed inside at the thought of all that dreadful red. Pretty though Angharad was, she had never looked worse than she did today It was the hair as well; it did not suit her, was totally inappropriate. Her coming to the store dressed like that was embarrassing. And how mean-spirited she had been.
Then it came, a sudden flash of memory of a Christmas long ago. In Connecticut. She had been seven or thereabouts, Angharad around three and a half and very jealous of her, competitive even then. I
t was the Christmas that Evan’s grandmother had given her a puppy, a beautiful chocolate brown Lab with unusual green eyes. They had named him Hudson, after the river.
“Gran, Gran, I can’t find Hudson! He’s disappeared,” Evan wailed, worry ringing her face as she ran into the big family kitchen where her grandmother stood at the long oak table cooking for the holidays. Glynnis was making stuffing for the turkey, giblet gravy, applesauce, and all sorts of other good things to eat.
Glancing over her shoulder at Evan, she said, “I saw him trotting after Angharad a few minutes ago. Try the solarium, lovey. Perhaps you’ll find them there, playing with his tennis ball.”
Evan raced down the corridor in the direction of the solarium. When she came to the doorway, she was stunned to see Angharad pushing the puppy out into the snow and then locking the outside door.
“Angharad! What are you doing?” Evan shrieked, her shoes clattering against the terra-cotta flagstones as she flew into the solarium. “Hudson will die out there. It’s too cold for a puppy. He’s only nine weeks old!”
Evan pulled Angharad away from the door, glaring at her and exclaiming, “You’re very bad. Bad.” Frantically turning the lock, she ran outside, seeking the puppy. He was nowhere to be seen, and her eyes filled up with tears.
“Hudson, Hudson, where are you?” she shouted. He couldn’t be far away, she thought desperately.
Angharad had come out and was standing on the steps of the solarium. “I’m not a bad girl,” she yelled at Evan. “I hate that puppy. I hate you. It’s the dog that’s bad. It wee-weed in my room. So there, Miss Big Shot!” She went back inside, banged the solarium door, and locked it.
Evan paid no attention to her. She was far too intent on finding her puppy. Then she spotted the little paw prints in the snow and began to follow them, pulling her cardigan around her shoulders, shivering in the icy wind, regretting she had not stopped to get her coat.
It didn’t take Evan long to find Hudson. The dog had sunk into a snowdrift against the terrace wall and was whimpering. Bending over the snowdrift, she almost fell into it herself as she reached down. Hudson was wet and cold, trembling with fright and still whimpering as she took hold of him and lifted him out.
“Little Hudsy, here I am. You’re safe,” Evan soothed. “I’ll soon have you warm,” she whispered against his wet hair, bundling him inside her cardigan. Holding him close to her body for extra warmth, she hurried back to the solarium.
Evan turned the knob, only to discover that the door had been locked by Angharad. The child stood on the other side of the French doors; she stuck out her tongue, then laughed.
“Open this door!” Evan demanded, banging on one of the glass panes.
“No, I won’t.” Angharad put her tongue out again, swung around, and ran away from the French doors.
Racing along the path, Evan went to the back door of the house, which led straight into the kitchen. Stumbling inside, she brought a blast of cold air with her, which made Glynnis swing around. She looked startled.
“You’re going to catch your death of cold, my girl, going out without a coat in this weather,” she chastised, then stopped when she saw that Evan had the puppy in her arms. She also noticed that the two of them were shivering.
“Goodness me, whatever happened to Hudson? He looks very wet,” Glynnis exclaimed, frowning in concern. “Here, give him to me, Evan, I’ll wrap him in this warm towel. As for you, lovey take off that damp cardigan at once and stand in front of the fire. You’ll be warm and dry in a jiffy.”
“Yes, Gran,” Evan said dutifully, handing over the puppy, then struggling out of her damp cardigan, which she laid on the hearth.
Once the puppy was dry and nestling in a bed of thick towels in his basket, Glynnis said, “Do you want to tell me what happened, Evan?”
Evan let out a long sigh. “I’m not a snitch.”
“I know that. But how did the puppy get outside in the first place?”
“I found him in a snowdrift,” Evan muttered, avoiding the question.
“Certainly Hudson can’t open doors, so somebody must’ve put him outside, Evan. That’s the obvious answer. Perhaps a little girl called Angharad, eh?”
Evan was silent.
“It was Angharad,” Elayne announced, walking into the kitchen. “I saw her shoving Hudson out into the snow, Grandma.” Elayne made a face. “She’s always jealous of Evan, and me, too.”
Glynnis nodded. “I understand. Well, please go and find her, Elayne, and bring her to me. At once.”
Elayne rushed off.
Glynnis looked pointedly at Evan. “I know you never want to confront her, but this time Angharad has gone too far.”
When Evan was silent, Glynnis said, “You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, Gran.”
Within minutes Elayne came back into the kitchen, pulling Angharad along by the hand. At five she was taller and stronger, so she was able to control the younger child, who was struggling and looked sullen.
When they came to a stop in front of Glynnis, she said in a quiet voice, “Angharad, what you did was a cruel thing, putting that defenseless little puppy out in the freezing cold. Hudson would have soon died in that snowdrift, there’s no doubt about it. You’ve been a wicked girl. I don’t often use such a strong word with you, even though you are frequently extremely naughty. However, this time you deserve it.” Bending slightly, looking into the child’s face, Glynnis said, “Now, explain why you did such a cruel thing.”
“The dog wee-weed in my room,” Angharad mumbled.
“Oh really. That’s surprising, since you usually keep the door closed. Let’s go upstairs, shall we? All of us.”
Glynnis, her face still grim, shepherded her three granddaughters up the front stairs and into the bedroom shared by Angharad and Elayne. “Now, show me where the puppy had an accident,” she said.
Angharad hung back for a second, then ran to a small, damp spot visible on the light-colored carpet. She pointed to it. “There! It’s there.”
“That doesn’t look like urine to me,” Glynnis muttered, and, kneeling down, she sniffed the spot, then looked up at Angharad, her face grim again. She said, “This spot doesn’t have a smell at all. I think it’s water.”
“Yes, it is, Grandma,” Elayne told her. “She spilled it last night.”
“I thought it was something like that,” Glynnis replied, getting up. “And now you’ve resorted to fibbing, Angharad. Well, there’s only one thing to do with a girl who lies. She’s got to be left alone to think about what telling the truth means, how important it is. Girls who lie are not fit for decent company.”
“I didn’t lie!” Angharad cried, glaring at Elayne.
“I believe you did,” Glynnis exclaimed, scrutinizing her intently. “And it’s not the first time. You’re to stay here in your room until your father and mother get back from New York with Grandpa. Then we’ll see what happens.”
She walked across the bedroom floor, beckoning to the other two girls. After ushering them out, Glynnis turned and looked at Angharad. “I’m not going to lock this door, but don’t you dare come out.”
Once they were back in the kitchen, Glynnis served Evan and Elayne large bowls of chicken vegetable soup and small chicken sandwiches. They ate their lunch dutifully and in total silence, afraid to speak. And Glynnis didn’t say a word either.
It was much later that afternoon, when she was playing with the puppy at one end of the kitchen, that Evan heard her grandmother talking to her mother. “There’s something wicked in her, Marietta,” Glynnis said. “Angharad is duplicitous, she tells lies, and she has a cruel streak.” As Marietta began to protest, Glynnis went on firmly, “She was an abandoned child … . We know nothing about her genes. Now admit that’s true, Marietta.”
“I’m not denying it,” Marietta finally answered in a low voice. “But she is pretty, and she can be very sweet, you know. Very loving.”
“Yes, most certainly she can, when you’re
giving in to her, spoiling her,” Glynnis pointed out.
Marietta did not answer.
Evan kept herself hidden, not wanting the two women to become aware of her presence.
As the memory slowly faded, Evan once again accepted that Angharad was just as envious and spiteful as she had always been. It struck Evan that her sister had come to the store today spoiling for a fight. And if they hadn’t quarreled, she wouldn’t have fallen, would she?
Evan shivered slightly and huddled deeper into the bedclothes. Then she filled with relief that she hadn’t mentioned their quarrel to Gideon. She was certain he had already spotted something in Angharad which he didn’t like. His tone of voice had given him away, and besides that he had great insight into people. Angharad would never find favor with him, of that Evan was convinced.
5
“It’s exquisite,” India Standish said, looking at the diamond tiara resting on a square of black velvet laid on the dining room table at Niddersley House. “And I would love to wear it on my wedding day …” Her voice trailed off, and there was a moment’s hesitation before she asked, “As long as you don’t think it’s too much, Grandma?”
“Do you mean too grand, India?” Edwina asked. The Dowager Countess of Dunvale gazed across the table at her only granddaughter and favorite grandchild.
“Well, yes, sort of,” India admitted. “Is it a bit over the top?” She raised a blond brow questioningly, her silvery gray eyes focused on her grandmother. “I mean, for these days?”
Edwina did not answer for a moment. Instead she stared intently at the tiara, her head to one side, her eyes thoughtful. After a moment she murmured, “No, it’s not too grand for today, nor was it ever, for any day, my dear. And it’s certainly not very elaborate … just two bands of diamonds linked by interlocking circles of diamonds, with the large circle at the front holding a diamond star in a smaller circle.”
Nodding, Edwina informed India, “It’s Victorian, you know, and it belonged to Adele Fairley my grandmother and your great-great-grandmother. That’s why it occurred to me you might like to wear it on such an important day in your life. It’s part of your family history.”
Just Rewards (Harte Family Saga) Page 4