Honorable Doctor, Improper Arrangement

by Mary Nichols

  ‘Oh, that was Papa’s idea. He said it would cheer me up.’

  ‘And has it?’

  ‘Seeing you again has.’ She looked about her as Kate and the Viscount passed them on their way into the dining room. ‘Are you going to take me in to supper?’

  Out of courtesy, he offered her his arm and they followed Kate and the Viscount. Finding themselves moving towards the same table, he was left with no choice but to introduce them. ‘Mrs Meredith, may I present Lady Isobel Redfern. Isobel, this is Viscount Cranford and Mrs Meredith. Mrs Meredith has been helping me with my charity work.’

  Robert bowed and the ladies bobbed to each other. Kate became aware that the other woman was eyeing her up and down, making her feel uncomfortable. ‘What brings you to London?’ she asked, as they sat down together, more to make conversation than because she wanted to know.

  ‘Why, this dear man,’ Isobel said. ‘I have come to take him back where he belongs. Charitable work is all very well, I applaud those who can do it, but it should not take over one’s life, should it?’

  ‘We are at one there,’ Robert said, a ghost of a smile flitting across his features.

  Kate and Simon remained silent as the other two conversed cheerfully about the weather and the ball and Paris. Kate realised her grandmother had been right; the doctor was renewing his suit with his one-time love and it left her feeling unaccountably sad, while Simon was wishing Isobel anywhere but where she was.

  Then they returned to the ballroom, where the musicians were tuning up again. They bowed to each other and the Viscount took Kate off to dance with her, leaving Simon with Isobel, who hung on to his sleeve and insisted on perambulating around the room with him, chattering about nothing at all.

  It was two o’clock in the morning when the Viscount took Kate home. He helped her alight from his carriage and accompanied her to the door. She had told everyone not to wait up for her and she expected the house to be quiet. He paused on the step to say goodnight to her and it was then they heard the sound of screaming coming from the nursery suite.

  Kate bounded up the stairs without even bidding Robert goodbye and dashed along to the boys’ room. Joe was standing upright on his bed, yelling at the top of his lungs while Joan tried vainly to quieten him and grab the bedclothes, which were heavily stained and smelled dreadful. He was fighting her off with surprising strength for one so young. ‘He won’t let me see to him,’ Joan said, seeing Kate come into the room. ‘And he’s messed the bed.’

  As soon as Joe saw her he stopped crying and held out his arms to her. Joan just had time to snatch up a clean towel and wrap it about him before he was picked up and crushed against the beautiful silk rosebuds on Kate’s evening gown. ‘There, there,’ she said, soothing him. ‘I’m home now. Let’s get you cleaned up and back into bed, shall we?’

  Joan suddenly caught sight of the gentleman right behind her mistress and her mouth fell open. ‘Oh…’

  Alerted by her cry, Kate swung round to face Robert, who stood in the doorway. His face was a picture of disgust. ‘Put the boy down, Katherine,’ he said. ‘Leave him to the servants.’

  ‘I cannot do that, he is upset. Please go downstairs and I will join you in the drawing room in a minute when I have cleaned him up.’

  He looked as though he was about to argue, but became aware of the servant staring at them and the lad in the other bed, his brown eyes peeping over the bedclothes and taking everything in; one did not quarrel openly in front of children and servants, who liked nothing better than to gossip. He turned on his heel and left the scene.

  Kate put Joe down on a chair and helped Joan strip the bed and remake it, then while Joan fetched a bowl of warm water to wash him, she stripped him off. By the time he was clean and been put into a clean night-shirt, he was almost asleep again. She put him back to bed and stayed a few minutes, singing softly to him until his eyes closed. Joan took the soiled linen away and Kate went down to the drawing room.

  Robert was sitting in an armchair reading the Gazette. He put it down and stood up when she came in. ‘He’s gone back to sleep, the poor little mite,’ she said.

  ‘Katherine, I am appalled. I did not know that having those children in the house meant that you were reduced to the condition of nursemaid. Whatever were you thinking of, picking him up in that disgusting state…’

  ‘He woke up and I could not be found. Next to his mother, I am the only stable person he knows and in his eyes I had failed him. I had to reassure him and giving him a cuddle is the only way.’

  ‘Ugh! That is why we have nursemaids. I cannot remember my first wife behaving in that way towards my daughters and they are none the worse for it.’

  ‘Perhaps she did it when you did not see her. I cannot imagine any mother not wanting to hold her children.’ She paused, wondering what he expected of her. Not a biddable and malleable just-out-of-the-schoolroom débutante, she hoped. Her children would be cuddled and listened to and not banished to their own part of the house. On that she was determined. ‘May I offer you some refreshment before you go?’

  ‘No, thank you, it is very late.’ His nose curled in distaste. ‘You need to take that gown off and throw it away.’

  ‘Throw it away? What a monstrous waste that would be. Susan is very good at cleaning. She will have it looking like new in no time.’

  ‘Katherine, as my wife, you will never have to make economies like that. If you do not want to throw it out, then give it away.’

  ‘Very well.’ It was not worth arguing about, she decided. He was only concerned that looking after the children would prevent her being ready for the wedding and the changes to her life that were bound to occur after that. And the children would soon be gone and then everything would go back on an even keel. But it wouldn’t, would it? Her life would never be as smooth or as happy as it had been in the last few weeks. She would have to do as Simon suggested: harden her heart in order to function. But was that fair on Robert? He did not deserve that.

  She opened her mouth to say something, then shut it again because he was taking his leave. He bowed and made his way to the door, making no attempt to touch her or kiss her hand, his face still registering distaste. After he had gone she sank into a chair and burst out laughing. She laughed until the tears ran down her cheeks and then suddenly she was crying and tears of another sort streamed down her face.

  She could not go through with the wedding, she really could not. Robert was not the man she had hitherto believed him to be. In her heart of hearts, she knew she could never be happy with him. He did not think the same way she did; what was important to her he dismissed as of little moment, and his top-lofty attitude to those beneath him she found repugnant. Simon was different. Simon understood…

  Chapter Seven

  Unexpectedly it was little Joe that left Kate first. ‘His baby sister has died,’ Simon told Kate when he called two days later. By dint of always appearing to have something else to do, he had avoided Isobel, who was staying at her father’s home in Park Lane, but he was unsure how long he could keep it up, especially with his aunt still in town. ‘His father has returned home and they have moved into more salubrious accommodation and they want their son back.’

  Her heart leapt at the sight of him; she wanted to throw herself into his arms and sob out her problems. But he was part of the problem. She took a deep breath and forced herself to sound as businesslike as he did. ‘Will he be looked after properly?’

  ‘It is to be hoped so. In any case, we cannot legally keep him from his parents. Nor would I wish to, but I will visit them from time to time.’ He was sticking strictly to the business of the children, trying to be once more the self-contained man he had been before he met Kate, hard though it was. He remembered his warning to Kate to harden her heart, and he must do that too. ‘I have arranged to take him home tomorrow, if that is convenient.’

  ‘May I come with you?’

  He should not have been surprised; it was typical of her. ‘Why? I am
persuaded you would find it disturbing.’

  ‘Doctor Redfern, you forget I saw that other awful place in Seven Dials and nothing could be worse than that. I should still like to see Joe safely home.’

  ‘Your concern does you credit, but there is little you can do if you do not approve.’

  ‘I know.’ It was said with a sigh. ‘But I should still like to come.’

  ‘Very well,’ he said, calling himself all kinds of a fool even as he agreed. ‘I will call for you and the boy at ten tomorrow morning.’

  ‘We will be ready.’

  When he arrived promptly the following morning she was ready in a plain grey cotton dress and straw cottager hat, with Joe, face washed, hair brushed, new shoes polished, beside her. She carried a small bag of spare clothes and toys she had made up for him.

  Simon, who was himself dressed very simply in a brown frock coat and plain brown pantaloon trousers, helped them into the gig and climbed up beside them. As they travelled Kate talked to the child, repeating what she had told him the evening before, that he was going back to his mama, who was waiting anxiously to have him home again. He was to be a good boy and not to run away again and much else in like vein, all designed to prepare and reassure him.

  ‘Do not be tempted to promise to visit him,’ Simon murmured under his breath. ‘You will not be able to keep it.’

  ‘I know that,’ she said sharply.

  They left the prosperous streets behind them and ventured along Maiden Lane. At first Kate thought they were going to the Hartingdon, but Simon drew up at a tenement a hundred yards short of it. Mrs Barber, who had evidently been on the look out for them, hurtled from the door.

  ‘Joey! Joey! You are come home!’ She ran up to the gig and took Joe from Kate’s lap. ‘My, aren’t you the little gentleman, eh?’ She plucked at his new clothes and then hugged him so tight, the breath was almost squeezed from his body. He looked about to burst into tears until Kate said, ‘He has been looking forward to coming home, Mrs Barber. Haven’t you, Joe?’

  He nodded, but did not speak because his thumb was in his mouth again.

  Simon had jumped down from the gig and given an urchin a penny to mind it, and now he helped Kate down and said, ‘Shall we go inside?’

  The accommodation was still only one room, still sparsely furnished with a table, two chairs and a cupboard on one side and a large bed and a cot on the other, but Mrs Barber had made an attempt to keep it clean. There was a fire in the grate and a blackened kettle sang on the hob. There were cups and saucers put out on the table; none matched, but they were clean. ‘You will take tea?’ she queried. ‘Alf would have been here to meet you, but he’s got ’isself a job down at the docks and won’t be ’ome ’til evening.’

  Kate did not fancy the tea, which she knew could only be the dust left after the good leaves had been sold, but would not for the world have hurt the young woman by refusing and Simon, in his heartiest voice, said it would go down a treat. And so all three sat at the table and drank the tasteless beverage, while Joe played on the floor with the toy lamb he had brought with him. Kate was glad that he seemed content and made no fuss when she and Simon left.

  ‘One down, three to go,’ Simon said, making light of it as they drove away.

  She smiled a little wanly. It had hurt to leave the child, even though she had prepared for it. And the doctor had changed too and that was something for which she had not been prepared. Their previous intimacy had disappeared and he was being cold and unbending. She supposed it was because she had disappointed him over the children. ‘I think of the four, he might be the hardest to part with,’ she said, maintaining the myth that it was only the welfare of the children that mattered. ‘He is so little. I do hope he will be loved and cared for.’

  ‘I will see that he is,’ he said. ‘It is a good sign that Barber has found work, though if it is on the docks, I suspect it is only casual labour.’

  ‘Mrs Barber seems very young to have a child of four.’

  ‘They married when she was sixteen and he barely twenty.’

  ‘Too young to be parents.’

  ‘Perhaps, but in their world youngsters have to grow up quickly to survive; they are older than their years.’

  ‘What are you going to do about Michael and Sarah and Annie?’

  ‘I can put Michael into an apprenticeship or, if he likes, he can sign on as a ship’s boy if he fancies a naval career. Sarah can go into the Hartingdon until she is old enough to be put into service and Annie’s mother is on the mend, so you can go to your wedding with a clear conscience.’

  She had been so concerned about the children she had not thought about her wedding for days. ‘I have told Annie she can be one of my attendants,’ she told Simon. ‘Would you ask her parents if they will consent?’

  ‘Good Lord!’ he exclaimed. ‘Has Cranford agreed?’

  ‘I have mentioned Annie is to be an attendant, I cannot see why he should object,’ she said, on the defensive. ‘She is a pretty child and well behaved and it is up to me to say whom I would like to attend me.’

  He could just imagine the furore it would cause. There would be an unholy clash of wills and he wondered who would win. It might, he told himself almost gleefully, result in the wedding being called off. But he soon sobered. Would someone so keen on the proper observance of the proprieties, as his lordship undoubtedly was, back out of an engagement once entered into? No, of course he would not, he answered himself; it would cause no end of scandal, and for someone who aspired to be of importance on the diplomatic scene, not to be thought of. Cranford must go through with it, or, if he was not prepared to do that, then the gentlemanly thing to do would be to allow Mrs Meredith to find some compelling reason for breaking off the engagement herself, but even that would cause tattle, as he had discovered for himself. He pulled himself up sharply. Whatever was he thinking of to wish unhappiness and gossip on someone who most certainly did not deserve it?

  ‘I will speak to Mr and Mrs Smith,’ he said. ‘I cannot think they will be other than pleased.’

  He turned to concentrate on driving the gig. The traffic was very thick on Piccadilly, carriages, carts and cabs filled the road, while pedestrians hurried along the pavement. He drew to a stop as a little crossing sweeper with an overlarge broom stepped into the road to clear the way for a gentleman waiting to cross. And that man was Captain Feltwell. He looked up and saw them; there was a smile of malicious glee on his face as he stopped to doff his hat before crossing the road in front of them.

  Kate did not like the man and felt sure he would delight in telling Viscount Cranford he had seen her and, considering the jobation Robert had given her before about being seen about with the doctor without a chaperon, that would undoubtedly cause more dissent. She turned to look at Simon, but he appeared not to have noticed the man’s mockery and was staring straight ahead.

  They drew up outside the house in Holles Street to find the Viscount’s phaeton standing outside. Simon declined to go in for refreshment; he had no wish for a meeting with the Lord Cranford, knowing he would find it difficult to conceal his dislike of him. And the only reason for that, he told himself as he drove away, was his concern for Kate and her future happiness.

  He returned two days later to take Michael and Sarah back to the Hartingdon Home. Kate had prepared them for it and they had accepted it philosophically. It was this stoical acceptance of everything that happened to them that made Kate feel sad. ‘I hate the idea of never seeing them again,’ she told Simon. ‘And as you do not think we should correspond—though heaven knows why—do you think you could tell Papa from time to time how they go on? He can include news of them in his letters to me.’

  ‘I will if I can, but once Michael goes to sea, I doubt I shall hear anything of him again. And Sarah might go too far away for me to keep in touch with her. To be honest, Lady Eleanor does not encourage her helpers to maintain contact. Her view is that once the children have left the care of the Society, they are no long
er our concern and keeping in touch with them prevents us concentrating on the ones we are still responsible for. And I must say I agree with her.’

  ‘But I’ve still got Annie. If I can keep her until her mother is home again, I should like to do so.’

  She watched him drive the children away and went back to Annie. The child was a little tearful, knowing she would be the next to go. ‘But you will be glad to go back to your mama and papa, won’t you?’ Kate said. ‘Shall you like to go shopping with me tomorrow?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ The child brightened at once.

  Even though she had made up her mind not to go through with the wedding, which would mean going back on her promise to Annie, she could not deprive the child of the promised dress. They chose a pale blue muslin, decorated about the waist and puffed sleeves with narrow white lace. Kate also bought her a lace-trimmed petticoat, a fetching straw bonnet, some white stockings and tan leather shoes. They were on the way back from their expedition when Simon drew up beside them in his gig.

  ‘On the way home?’ he queried, noting how charming Kate looked in pale pink with a darker pink straw bonnet.

  ‘Yes, we have been shopping.’

  ‘So I see. Allow me to take you home.’

  ‘We would not wish to take you out of your way.’

  ‘You won’t do that.’

  ‘Then thank you.’ They climbed up beside him. Annie was so excited she could not stop chattering and would have pulled all the shopping out if its wrappers to show Simon if Kate had not stopped her. ‘Not now, Annie,’ she said. ‘Wait until we are home again.’

  Simon smiled. ‘You seem to have had a rewarding expedition.’

  ‘Yes. It was fun, wasn’t it, Annie?’

  ‘Oh, yes. And Mrs Kate let me choose what I wanted.’

  He accompanied her indoors to pay his respects to Lady Morland and to be shown Kate’s purchases by an eager Annie. ‘I’m going to leave them here when I go home,’ she told him. ‘Ma will bring me on the wedding morning to dress here. But Mrs Kate says I can keep them after that.’