Saints and Sinners

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Saints and Sinners Page 27

by Karen V. Wasylowski


  “Wait. What are you doing?” Martha huffed and shoved, attempting to shoulder her way around Mark… but to no avail. He was too big. It was like moving a mountain.

  “Have you lost your senses? Who is she?”

  Although she was not visible standing behind Mark, her voice was loud and clear. And loud. “I am a trained nurse, sir, charged with the health and wellbeing of this nursery, that is who I am! And, until I hear otherwise from my employers, I will remain so! Now I will thank you all to leave my room. This is very upsetting to my patient.” Another soft snore filled the silence.

  Furious but confused, Matthew fully intended to tell her off, but instead pressed his lips closed. Bloody hell.

  “You looked the exact same way when Mama would reprimand us for rude behavior,” Mark commented, and Matthew began to chuckle.

  Clarissa exploded.

  “I cannot believe this! Are you going to allow a servant to speak to you in that manner? If you were in my employ, young woman, I should take a whip to you.”

  “Madam, reduced as my circumstances may have become, I still have some standards. There could be no incentive in the world that would compel me to be in your employ. It is clear your governess placed too great an emphasis on superficial physical appearance, and not enough on common courtesy.”

  “Well! I have never before been so rudely treated. Matthew, don’t just stand there! Say something!”

  “The moment I hear say her say something untrue I shall be certain to give her a piece of my mind.”

  “Completely useless, as usual.” Clarissa turned back toward – well – Martha’s general vicinity, irritated that she couldn’t see the wench behind Mark’s back. Instead, she jabbed her finger in the air to emphasize each and every word. “And you, I shall see you are sacked!”

  “Sacked? You can’t sack me, I’m your husband’s brother.”

  “You know perfectly well to whom I speak! Oh, this family is driving me mad!”

  “What are you shouting about, Clarissa?” Anne Marie had heard the rumpus down the hall and now hurried inside, the family physician in her wake. “We’re receiving complaints from nearby villages.”

  “I demand you sack this person immediately!”

  “Certainly not. He’s one of my dearest relations, you know that.”

  “Not Mark!” Clarissa screamed. “The woman he apparently feels compelled to protect. She’s standing behind him!”

  “Oh, I see. I was beginning to think you’d lost your mind completely.”

  “Well, if I haven’t by now it wouldn’t be for your family’s lack of trying!”

  “That is just silly, Clarissa, we’re a perfectly pleasant family; and, I certainly shall not sack a servant just because you became confused. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find a qualified nanny, let alone a trained nurse, to care for one’s children in one’s home? It is practically unheard of. Why, she’s even finer than Bridget was. Oh. Wait. Please don’t anyone tell Bridget I said that.”

  “Mark, there you are.” Lucille Armitage appeared in the doorway behind the physician. “Hello, everyone. What in the world are we all doing in this tiny room?”

  Marked slapped a hand to his forehead. “Oh, damn me – the opera. I’d completely forgotten. Under the circumstances, Lucille, I don’t believe…”

  “Oh no you don’t.” She squeezed around the doctor, Father Ted, Anne Marie, Matthew, Clarissa and grabbed Mark’s arm, surprised by the pretty young nurse standing behind him. “Oh. How do you do. Excuse me. Mark, you promised Lord Prescott and Lord Llewellyn that you would attend tonight.” She turned to the group behind her. “I don’t believe it unfitting if one begins to emerge from our great national mourning, do you? Besides, it is a depressing opera. No one attending will actually be enjoying themselves.”

  “Excuse me,” in the jostling for better positions the doctor had been pushed further and further to the back by the others. “I say, might I be allowed to examine my patient, please? I would like to be home by nine o’clock at the latest.”

  “Oh yes, of course.” Anne Marie pulled the man forward to the child’s bedside where Martha remained hidden behind Mark, holding Amanda’s hand. “Sir Avery, this is our nanny, Clarke. Mark, move your foot. She is a former nurse. And, your other foot as well, Mark.”

  “Mrs. Clarke? Yes, I remember you from St. Anthony’s. Trained with Nightingale, did you not? Exemplary professionals. Very good. Now, let us see to the child. Are you sleeping, little girl?”

  Amanda waved her hand around the room, indicating all the inhabitants. “You cannot be serious.”

  As the physician examined Amanda, Mark touched Father Ted’s arm. “Where is Papa?”

  “Downstairs. His face was flushed, so Uncle Wills insisted he rest. Poor old Wills is physically holding him down and suffering the worse abuse for it.”

  “Mark!” Bunny stomped her foot. “Lord Prescott is going out of his way to impress you; the least you could do is be impressed!”

  “All right, all right, I’m coming.” By now Jamie and Harry had arrived and were standing outside in the hallway with the Mary’s. They waved a greeting to Mark.

  “Dear lord, is there anywhere in this house a man can have a bit of privacy without the entire family assembling as well?”

  “Haven’t found it yet,” grumbled Andrew, peeking around the door frame.

  Mark raked a hand through his hair bringing into his sight the blood on his sleeve. “Good lord. Jamie, do you have a clean evening shirt for me to change into, perhaps a neck scarf as well?”

  “Of course, Mark. Come with me.

  At the door, he turned for one more look at Martha, his mind set. She was everything he’d wanted in a woman without ever knowing, without ever hoping. Now that she was found he’d not lose her again. “Matthew! Matthew, I’m speaking to you!”

  “What is it?”

  “Make certain Mrs. Clarke is treated with the utmost respect.”

  Chapter 36

  “Fitz, wake up.”

  “What!” Fitzwilliam jerked up into a sitting position, very nearly rolling off his comfy chaise and onto the floor before he caught himself; looked about. “Oh. It’s only you. You scared the drool right down my chin. Hand me a cloth, would you? What are you doing here?”

  Darcy pulled a handkerchief from his coat and handed it over, watching his friend carefully, looking for any telltale signs of lingering illness. As far as he could see, though, the old fellow was again healthy as a horse. “I was in the neighborhood.”

  “So, on a whim, you decided to scare the shite out of me at eight in the evening?”

  “There was a time when we would just be heading out the door at eight in the evening, eager for a night of depravity.”

  “When were you ever depraved, Darcy? As far as I remember you were merely elegantly wicked once or twice.”

  “I had my moments. You should be in bed, instead of cramped on this old thing.” Darcy lowered himself slowly as he spoke, his knees aching from the cold.

  “I dislike the direction of your comments. Sorry, rosebud, but you hold no attraction for me.”

  “’The lady doth protest too much’.”

  Fitz grunted. “You realize I was in the midst of a wonderful dream involving smoking cigars, drinking brandy, and enjoying a table filled with hot buttered breads, minced pies, roasted goose, smoked hams, venison, puddings, cakes, rich sauces, sweets…”

  “No vegetables?”

  “No, I said it was wonderful. Best of all there were no children around nagging me about my excesses.”

  “It’s a wonder you have the courage to go on with life, considering the hell you live through every day.”

  Fitzwilliam finally gave way and began to chuckle. “All right, all right. Just why are you here?”

  “This is very serious. I promised Beth and Meg I would discreetly discover if something is bothering you. They’re at the house with Kathy and Lizzy, all the women worried to death because
Meg said she heard you weeping last night. Truthfully, tell me, Richard, and be brave – was your Madeira improperly chilled?”

  “Bosh!” Fitzwilliam pushed up from the settee in search of his pipe. “My daughters should mind their own affairs. Honestly, women these days seem to have completely forgotten that they are the weaker sex. Meg and Beth would do better to find husbands than bother me incessantly.”

  “That they are still unmarried is your own fault.”

  “Me? Why am I to blame for everything?”

  “They are independently wealthy thanks to your investing for them over the years, have dozens of clever, interesting friends, are welcomed in the finest circles. They want for nothing. They have no need of husbands.”

  “I should be shot.” Fitzwilliam finished packing his pipe and sat. “Bloody hell, Darcy, they are women! They should want children.”

  “Why? They have you.”

  “Perhaps you’re right for once.” Fitzwilliam puffed on his pipe. “I have been too good to them, I see it now. The daily whippings should never have ceased.”

  “Now, tell me what has you so low, keeping in mind I’ve known you for over sixty years, Fitz, and you cannot fool me.”

  “Where do I begin?” Fitzwilliam hesitated, poured them both a glass of whiskey. “I suppose I occasionally dwell on my old memories.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Well, pardon me if it I’m not at death’s door. Surely memories pester you at night as they do me. Some are wonderful. Some terrifying. Either way I find myself pacing occasionally, unable to rest. You must know what I mean.”

  “Not at all. I sleep like a log.”

  "You really know how to annoy a person, don’t you?”

  “I have my moments. Continue.”

  “All right. I suppose I may slip into a sort of melancholia some days, miss my children racing through the house, watching them grow and discovering the wonder in the world around them. And the laughter. I dearly miss all the laughter, and the squabbles, and the family gatherings. Do you recollect my explaining to the boys how babies are made, when all they really wanted to know was where their step-brother Harry was born?”

  “That fiasco,” Darcy grinned. “George raced to speak to me straight away after that lecture of yours. Evidently you left off the naughty parts. Very confusing to him, and when I explained the true details he was horrified, put him off females for a full year.”

  “Really? I thought I gave a marvelous presentation, even provided a diagram of the female reproductive system using a stick to draw on the ground. Of course, Amanda did say I’d somehow gotten one or two points of the female anatomy backwards. Quite embarrassing.” Fitz leaned his head back and smiled, puffed on his pipe. “I was always suspicious that was the real reason Ted entered the priesthood.”

  “Poor children. What we’ve done to them. Anything else bothering you?”

  Fitz sighed and turned away.

  “Oh, spit it out for heaven’s sake.”

  “I miss her, are you satisfied! More and more every day. Damn, it’s horrible that she’s gone, I actually hate her at times for leaving me. I miss making love to my wife, I miss our fights, our laughter, our friendship. I miss that oneness a couple creates together. I’m only half a person without her.” He swiped at a threatening tear. “Damn life to hell. I thought we’d have so much more time together, you see. That is why I hate that bed. Sometimes I can feel her still beside me, can feel her breath on my cheek, her hand in mine. When I turn and she’s not there, it devastates me.”

  “Understandable.”

  “Glad you approve of my misery.”

  “What else?”

  “Bloody St. Timothy’s bum, Darcy. You’re like a damn dog with a bone. Well, all right, if you must know, I have also begun having nightmares again of my army days, the battles, the butchery, the troops running wild, the looting, raping, the horror and terror, arms and legs everywhere, dead friends. Good God. The screams of wounded horses…”

  “Enough. Sorry I asked. Well, the girls begged me to speak with you, so now we can tell them I have.”

  “Why do women put such importance into feelings?”

  “Damned if I know.”

  “Are we done, then; because, all that talking has given me an appetite.”

  “Fine by me, I already told your butler to send a tray up for us. Gratified you can still scrape together a bit of hunger.”

  “I may be feeling a bit low, Darcy, not dead.”

  “That’s my little soldier.” Darcy took out his own pipe and began to pack it from Fitzwilliam’s tobacco pouch. “Is it true about Father Ted? I thought he would be here at least through spring. What’s happened?”

  “And yet he continues to depress me. Yes, Darcy, Father Ted is leaving earlier than expected. Seems he is to set off for America within a few weeks. At least the children have relatives there on his mother’s side of the family, uncles, a few cousins, a native or two among the Algonquins. Amanda’s grandmother was from the Abenaki people, I believe.” Fitzwilliam abruptly tapped out his pipe with so much vigor he nearly broke the stem. “America is so far. Darcy, I fear at my age I’ll never see my son again.”

  “Don’t dramatize,” Darcy sighed. Truth was, he dreaded to see the boy leave as badly as Fitzwilliam did; and, America was an immense and often dangerous country. “Could he not refuse?”

  “He could, I suppose. Truth is he actually seems eager to go. I always promised Amanda and the children we would return for a visit, but we never did. My fault entirely, I hate ships. Completely selfish, as usual, thought only of myself, but she rarely complained. She gave up so much for me, for the children, was so patient, so kind.”

  “But, when she did complain?”

  “It was at the top of her lungs.”

  Darcy patted his friend’s arm in commiseration just as the servants arrived with trays of food, dishes, tablecloths, the table set up for them before the fireplace. Wine was poured. The men ate for a while in peaceful silence.

  But not for long. “Darcy?”

  “Yes, Fitz.”

  “When did you learn about the boy?”

  Darcy did not feign surprise at the sudden change in subject. He wiped his mouth and nodded, pouring them both another brandy. “The first day they visited us, just before the holidays began, Amanda and Alex had traveled down from Scotland specifically because Alex was so worried about his brother. I saw the resemblance then. He is the image of you at that age.”

  “Remarkably good-looking lad.”

  Darcy rolled his eyes. “What about you? Were you surprised when Ewan and Amanda appeared on that stage together?”

  “No. I had believed the woman enceinte when she married Durand and ran off; suspected who the father was all these years – but, to actually see the boy!” He swiped away at tears again brimming in his eyes. “Weeping like a damn woman. I am becoming a doddering old fool, Darcy.”

  “What do you mean ‘becoming’?”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  More peaceful silence followed as dishes were removed and sweets were brought forward. A servant opened a box of cigars for Darcy, which he carefully looked over, studied, sniffed...

  “Only one Darcy. Those are very dear.”

  Darcy gave his cousin an icy cold stare. “What?” Fitzwilliam had the grace to look embarrassed, but not much. “All right, all right, take another if you must. Just let me jot this down.”

  “You skinflint. Now, tell me, was Matthew serious last evening, is he really going through with the divorce do you think?”

  “Yes. I tried speaking with him this morning but he’s so desperate to be free of Clarissa he’ll hear none of it; can’t say as I blame him really.”

  “Fitzwilliam.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “I realize Clarissa is a horror, but to dissolve a marriage? There are times I don’t understand the world, it moves so quickly now. Sir Cresswell’s Court has managed to change the interpretation of matrimony
from a sacrament to a contract.”

  “Spoken like an old fob, Darcy.”

  “Well, I suppose I am. They’ll seek a private, sealed bill, hopefully?”

  “Yes. However – listen to this – my brilliant son is allowing her to file under the grounds of cruelty, can you believe it? He wants to prevent her from bringing a charge of adultery into the filing.”

  “What? No, I don’t like that at all.”

  “I’ve told him as much – but, children never listen to reason.” Fitz pushed his plate away. “Now I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “Convenient since you’ve finished all the food. Have another brandy. How is Mark?”

  “Splendid – undertaking a great deal of exercising suddenly, regaining his mobility. He’s like a man possessed. Have you heard of Donald Walker?”

  “He owns a place near the docks, instructs people in their homes in physical training.”

  “Very good. Well, he has been attempting to perform his rehabilitation work at Mark’s apartment, but there’s so little room there. So, I have arranged with Gustav Ernst, an orthopedic machinist based in London, to install one of his portable gymnasiums at my home so Mark can be ensured a full recovery.”

  “Plus, you’ll be able to see him more often.”

  “Parents of recalcitrant adult children are forced to be devious at times.”

  “Actually, I was wondering more about that nurse last evening. I sensed… something. Were you able to speak with her?”

  “Interesting, that. She was the woman I was hoping to have sacked from the hospital, until I found out she’d passed away.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “It’s a long, odd story.” Fitzwilliam’s eyes sparkled. “Apparently, however, he’s now changed his mind about leaving for America with Ted, thank God. Also, I was taken to the side by our Mark and instructed to leave her be, that this was none of my concern and if I so much as squint my eyes at her he’ll tell my daughters about the secret stash of brandy I have hidden in the false bottom of my dresser.”

  “They already know about that.”

  “True. What none of them know is I have another false bottom.”

 

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