Katie briefly spied a large mahogany bed before Alice closed the door. It was very quiet. James was now staring at the fire with the same concentration he had applied to the Japanese screen.
‘Nice room,’ she said, then could have kicked herself.
‘The Palace has been very kind to us. They have taken Grace in until she convalesces, and moved my accommodation here’, he said, pointing to another door leading from the sitting room.
‘Oh,’ Katie said, ‘so that’s your bedroom?’ And could have kicked herself twice as hard. James turned a dull beet red and kept staring at the fire.
After what seemed like hours of silence, Alice returned. ‘I didn’t know what to say,’ she said. ‘How can one explain Katie? So I’ve simply told her you are a friend with much medical knowledge, and we wish her to meet you. She’s quite excited. Do come along.’
As Katie followed she wasn’t excited, just troubled. Could she help Grace?
Chapter Five
Grace
In the high mahogany bed, piled with pillows, lay Grace O’Reilly. She was a girl – really a young woman – of extraordinary beauty. Katie recognized her at once. The long red hair, the ruffled nightdress, now overlaid with a paisley shawl. But most of all it was the eyes – enormous and glistening with a sad and frightening knowledge. When she saw Katie, she pulled her shawl close and withdrew into the pillows.
James shot Katie one of his special killer looks. ‘You should have changed before you came,’ he said.
‘Oh yeah, I should have packed a suitcase for this trip,’ Katie retorted.
Alice came quickly to Grace’s bedside. ‘I am so very glad you are able to make this acquaintance,’ she said. ‘I know it is very late, but we wanted you to meet the moment our guest arrived. Perhaps James has spoken to you of our mutual friend, Katie?’
‘No,’ James muttered. ‘I’ve managed to keep Katie to myself.’ Alice ignored him.
‘Katie comes to us from – well, let us just say from very far away.’
Katie nodded stiffly. Here was the girl she’d found in her bed, in New York City, in the middle of the night. But that had been a vision, a sort of time communication. This was the real thing. ‘Nice to meet you,’ Katie said.
Grace had travelled widely and frequented some of the finest drawing rooms of Europe. She tried to rise to the occasion. ‘And it is a pleasure to meet you,’ she said, a slight Irish lilt giving her voice a special sweetness. She was making a magnificent effort to ignore the yellow pyjamas with the green and orange frogs. ‘Hearing your voice, I believe you are, perhaps, from America? I’ve met many of your compatriots in Italy. They added much . . . much . . . vigour . . . and . . . originality to society.’ She attempted to rise from her bed, but swayed and sank back onto the pillows, gasping for breath. James sprang forward and began to mix a potion from the bottles on her bedside table. ‘Please forgive me,’ Grace whispered. ‘I am not as well as I would like to be.’
‘Grace, don’t talk,’ James pleaded in a soft voice Katie hadn’t heard before. ‘You don’t have to play hostess. Katie hasn’t come for a tea party. She has come to help you.’ He looked Katie straight in the eye. ‘She’s come to help us.’ He finished preparing the draught, and held it to Grace’s lips. ‘This will soothe you,’ he said. ‘Please drink this and, with your permission, Katie will ask you a few questions. We’ll explain everything in the morning. Is it acceptable to you, Grace, if Katie tries to help?’
Grace stroked James’s face and ruffled his hair. ‘I didn’t know you had an American friend, James,’ she murmured in her sweet voice. ‘You are growing up so quickly.’
James turned red again, and Katie interrupted. ‘I’m really Princess Alice’s friend. James, well, he puts up with me.’ She smiled at him, all the while searching her mind for the right questions. How did the doctors in New York act? Mimi had millions of doctors and healers and analysts. She should be an expert on this. ‘Can you describe your symptoms?’ she finally asked, immediately thinking ‘Dummy! Dumb question!’
Grace pulled her shawl tight. ‘Really, I am feeling much better,’ she protested weakly.
James took her hand and looking at her, tried to act stern. ‘As I said, this isn’t a tea party, Grace. If you want help, you need to tell the truth.’
Grace looked at her counterpane for a moment, pondering, deciding. She looked at Alice, who was smiling and nodding encouragement, and then she looked at Katie for a very long time, until she seemed to reach a decision. ‘I’d like to speak to your friend alone,’ she said.
James immediately shook his head. ‘I really don’t think . . .’
Alice interrupted. ‘Well, I do. I think that is a splendid idea. They can begin to become acquainted.’ She pressed Katie’s shoulder and then managed to escort James from the room, without even touching him.
Silence fell. As Grace watched the retreating figures, Katie had a chance to get a really good look at her. Despite Grace’s beauty, and her illness, there was still a lot of gentle fun in her face. She didn’t look anything like her puffed-up, vain father, handsome as he was. ‘Do you look like your mother?’ Katie asked, and then almost tripped over her own tongue. ‘I mean, I know that’s a stupid thing to ask. Really wrong. I mean, I know your mother’s dead and you might not want to talk about her, and then you are so ill, and . . .’ Katie stopped talking and looked towards the door. She was afraid Grace would ask her to leave.
Grace stretched out a pale thin hand. ‘Really, my dear, it’s cruel to make me laugh, it only makes me cough. But you are such an original. Fancy James finding a bold, bright girl like you? No, I’m not going to ask you any questions. James is scrupulous in his relations, and the Princess is above reproach. If you are their friend, then you will be mine. But I need to talk quickly now. James has given me that potion to make me sleep. I’ll have to talk while I still make sense, and am brave enough to say what I must.’
Without thinking, Katie sat down on the edge of the bed. She wasn’t self-conscious any more. ‘Tell me,’ she said.
Grace took a sip of water to steady herself. ‘Our lovely mother; do you know what our mother died of?’ Grace asked.
Katie searched her memory. ‘She died, I think, when your little brother Riordan was born. Is that right?’
Grace nodded. ‘Yes, that was hard enough, the birth. But she was so weakened. You see, she was already frail. I know now, it wasn’t just the childbirth, or the worry about father, or her homesickness for Ireland and family. She was suffering from the disease we never talk about. It was consumption. That is what really killed her.’
Katie looked at Grace’s emaciated figure, the pale skin and the hectic flush in her cheeks. She knew now, she’d really known the first time she’d seen her. ‘It’s tuberculosis,’ she said. ‘Where I come from, we call it tuberculosis.’
Grace sank further into her pillows. ‘Whatever you care to call it, it’s a terrible, agonizing, wasting disease. And I know I have it, like our mother. And I believe, that like my mother, I am bound to die.’
Katie felt the tears well up in her eyes. Grace raised a languid arm and brushed the drops from her cheeks. ‘Don’t cry,’ she said. ‘I am trying to reconcile myself to death. The hardest part will be leaving James and Jack and little Riordan. Just look at James. How kind and sweet James is, that he would bring you to me.’ Grace smiled sadly, shaking her head. ‘And it shows how desperate he is to keep me. I hope you will not be offended, but Miss Katie, you are barely out of the nursery. Not much more than a child.’
Crying was not useful, and with effort Katie stopped. ‘I’m not a child,’ she protested. ‘I’ve had lots of life experience.’
Grace smiled again. ‘Perhaps,’ she said, ‘but you are younger than me. How can you possibly help?’
Katie walked to the window and, pulling back the pale blue curtains, looked out. It was a dark, clear night. She could hear Grace behind her, coughing slightly, her breath shallow and irregular. Grace was right. Ho
w could she help? She wasn’t a doctor. And even if she was, she knew that in this time they wouldn’t have the medicines she needed to treat Grace. What could she possibly do?
Grace spoke to her in a low, drawling voice. The drops James had given her were taking effect. ‘Don’t fret, my dear. It was sweet of you to come at all. And I’m so happy to meet a friend of my wee James. Our father pushes him so in his profession. James is young, and yet he has to play the learned doctor, and look after little Riordan . . . such a tearaway, Riordan. James has little time for friends, aside from our brother Jack. And there’s Princess Alice. So lovely . . . so kind . . . Princess Alice . . .’ Grace’s head lulled back, her eyes began to flutter.
‘What’s that stuff that James gave you, Grace?’ Katie asked.
‘Laudanum,’ Grace murmured. ‘Tincture of laudanum. It is soothing, the laudanum . . .’ Her eyes closed and her breathing became deep and even. She was asleep. Katie came to stand beside the bed. She smoothed Grace’s long red hair back from her face and tidied the blankets and linens around her. Katie knew James and Alice were outside the door, hoping, depending on her.
‘I’m such rubbish!’ she cried, ‘I don’t know anything.’ She looked at Grace’s thin hands and thought about the way she’d laughed at James and ruffled his hair. She tried to give her three brothers the love they’d lost when their mother died. They needed her. There must be some way Katie could help. Though Katie still didn’t know what to do, it dawned on her that she knew what not to do. While she might not be able to cure Grace, she could keep Dr O’Reilly from actively killing her. With a final look at the sleeping Grace, she squared her shoulders and went out to meet her friends.
‘James, you should stop giving Grace the laudanum,’ she said. ‘It’s addictive, and, like, really dangerous.’
‘But laudanum is the primary medicine in the treatment of a fatigue like Grace’s,’ James said defensively. ‘My father might not be the finest doctor in England, but I can’t refute his administration of laudanum.’
‘It’s just covering up the disease, not curing it. All you’re doing is doping Grace,’ Katie argued. ‘And it’s silly to call it fatigue. Look at Grace, lying in there, gasping for breath. James, you need to call a spade a spade.’
For a moment James looked like he might push Katie right out of the door and back into her own time, but Alice stepped in.
‘Jamie, you wanted Katie here as much as I. And now you must listen to her. And, Katie dear, James and I know how serious this illness is. Do you believe we would have disrupted your life for something trifling? You understand James’s character, so you will appreciate how hard he is trying. He has been reading, researching – suggesting every known method possible to treat Grace.’
Alice could always put them both in their place, gently but firmly. Katie spoke quietly to James. ‘I am sorry,’ she said. ‘It was rude of me to butt in like that. I guess I just wanted to start helping as soon as I could.’
‘Apology accepted,’ James said stiffly. ‘And since we have summoned you here, we might as well make use of you.’
Katie knew from past experience that this was as close to reconciliation as she would get from James. ‘I think – though I’m not sure – that Grace needs a good nutritious diet. We need to take her off all these drugs. Keep her off anything like that. Please tell me your father isn’t bleeding her?’
‘Father has been discussing the idea with his colleagues. Also cupping.’
‘Well, you have to stop him. James, I know your father has the most gorgeous side-whiskers, and says wildly flattering things to the Queen, but really, his medicine! He’s not exactly the world’s greatest doctor.’
‘Now, Katie,’ Alice reproached her. ‘You should show more respect for the senior medical adviser to the Queen.’ But they all knew Dr O’Reilly had obtained his position through social, rather than medical, skill.
‘I think your advice is good, Katie,’ James said, ‘not exactly ground-breaking medicine, but sound and practical.’ Katie felt a rush of warmth, as praise from James was high praise indeed. ‘Bringing my father to your point of view is quite impossible, though,’ James added. ‘He is stubborn, and will continue to keep Grace in bed, starve her, and dose her with laudanum and alcohol.’
All three were silent. Overruling the Queen’s own doctor was a daunting task. ‘If I could somehow be near Grace a lot, then I could make sure she gets the things she needs,’ Katie suggested. ‘I’d open the windows, get her the right food, take her for walks . . .’
James scowled. ‘We’ve made such a stupid mistake,’ he said. ‘We called you here, but we forgot something. You don’t even exist in this time. You have no family here, no background, no position. What would people think of a strange American girl who simply appears from nowhere – it’s not as if you could roam around the Palace giving medical advice.’
‘It is a problem,’ Alice nodded. ‘Entrance into the Palace circle comes either through service or social pedigree. I don’t mean to sound snobbish, but you have neither, Katie. Where would you fit in?’
They looked Katie up and down, her tall lanky frame, currently clad in yellow flannel pyjamas, her bushy black hair, her funny foreign accent. Everything about her shouted out ‘not one of us’. How could they possibly make her belong? Alice’s face was full of concern ‘Don’t look so crestfallen, Katie. To us you are as family . . . it’s just my family is quite particular . . . and . . .’
‘It’s OK, Alice,’ Katie cut in. ‘This isn’t anything new. I’m kind of a freak in my own time too.’
James snorted, and they lapsed into silence.
With a brisk knock on the outer door, Bernardo DuQuelle entered. ‘Princess Alice was lucky to escape the party,’ he said. ‘Really, what I have to endure in the name of diplomacy. The music! I loathe Liszt! Still ringing in my ears. But Napoleon III says the Empress is entranced by his work, and of course, the Queen adores anything Germanic. And then there’s the endless debate on Russia, despite the late hour. All they can talk of is “teaching Russia a lesson, and protecting the Ottoman Empire.” Do you truly think the English care a fig for the Turks? It is almost a relief to return to the problem of Katie. How shall she be enabled to help Grace – an exciting challenge I’d say.’
Katie had a sinking feeling he’d been outside the door listening all the time.
‘We cannot have her lurking behind screens or doubled over in Chinese chests this time.’ DuQuelle tapped the knob of his walking stick against his chin. ‘We’ll have to make her into someone. Someone important enough to have free reign of the Palace – though looking at her just now, I don’t think that importance will stem from the worlds of fashion or beauty.’
Alice pursed her lips slightly. DuQuelle’s banter was easy, but always left her with an uneasy feeling. Still, she spoke to him with great courtesy. ‘Do you have any ideas, M. DuQuelle?’
‘Ah, Princess, I do indeed. Have any of you ever heard of Lewis Tappan Esq.?’ They all shook their heads. ‘That’s a good thing,’ DuQuelle continued jauntily. ‘Few people will have heard of him, and even fewer met him; but Lewis Tappan is a power to be reckoned with. He is a prominent American, in the fields of commercial trade, finance and credit. An important figure in Boston and New York.’
‘How can this Lewis Tappan help me?’ Katie asked. Bernardo DuQuelle waved his walking stick in the air, as if painting an imaginary picture.
‘Let us pretend that Lewis Tappan is on the Grand Tour, with his family. He has a wife, rather prim and sickly, two strapping sons, and an equally strapping daughter. Ah, the New World, it does raise them big and strong.’
‘But what does this family have to do with me?’ Katie asked again.
‘Imagine the Tappan family, visiting Florence, the cradle of the Italian Renaissance. No American on the Grand Tour of Italy would miss Florence.’
Katie sighed. DuQuelle would answer her questions only when he was ready.
‘There the illustrious Tap
pans meet the beautiful Grace O’Reilly,’ he continued, smiling at his own narrative. ‘They are taken with Miss O’Reilly. Who wouldn’t be? Particularly Miss Tappan, the strapping daughter. They become inseparable, the best of friends in that charming way of young girls. So it only seems natural that when Miss Tappan visits England, she would want to be with her dear friend Grace.’
‘But I haven’t seen this girl in the Palace,’ James said. ‘And Grace has never mentioned her.’
‘She is standing before you,’ DuQuelle replied.
‘Me?’ Katie cried.
‘I understand,’ Alice exclaimed. ‘Katie will pretend to be Miss Tappan, Grace’s dear friend, come to England to visit.’
James spoke up. ‘I’m not certain I approve of this plan,’ he said. ‘We all know Katie is courageous, but she can be foolish and she takes risks. To have her so exposed at the absolute centre of English life could put her in danger.’
‘But Grace is at the centre of English life,’ Katie protested. ‘She’s tucked up in bed in Buckingham Palace. If I’m to help, I have to be here too.’
‘Katie is right,’ Alice chimed in. ‘I don’t wish to see her in any danger, but she will need to stay close to Grace. And she isn’t foolish, James – she’s just a bit impetuous.’ Alice smiled at her friend. ‘James and I will be near, ready to help at a moment’s notice; and of course Bernardo DuQuelle has abilities far beyond anything . . .’ Alice trailed off, slightly embarrassed, while James glared at the floor.
Katie looked up at Bernardo DuQuelle. Could they trust him enough to adopt his plan? The lids drooped over his eyes as he examined the head of his walking stick, humming a tune from La Traviata. She noticed that his dark curls were carefully arranged across his creased, white forehead. Did he dye his hair? Did his sort even get grey hair? What was his age? Fifty? One hundred? One thousand? He looked old, but did he even age? Everything about him provoked unanswered questions. They were indebted to DuQuelle. He had once even saved Katie’s life. But they knew he was dangerous. They didn’t understand him and his motives were questionable. Was it really a good thing to have him nearby? The silence became strained.
The Chronicles of the Tempus Page 26