A Warriner To Tempt Her. Virginia Heath

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       Chapter Four

      The next two days seemed to go far slower than days ever had before. Being stuck on the sofa with no purpose made Bella’s anxiety worse. She fought it, of course, by reading or painting or sewing—anything to stop the debilitating melancholy which constantly threatened to suffocate her. Logically, she knew keeping active helped to ward off her demons. Dr Bentley’s assessment of her mental state and the invasive treatment he suggested had terrified her, and whilst she was fairly certain he was a quack at best, there was only so long her family would allow her to get over it all herself. Her way. They had moved to Retford, at her insistence, to give her the summer away from London to sort herself out. If she couldn’t, then the threat of more dreadful water treatments, and perhaps even Dr Bentley’s cure for her blatant hysteria, loomed on the horizon because she couldn’t go on like this.

      She had to get better. There really was no other option and sitting around all day embroidering handkerchiefs was not helping her recovery or stopping her mind whirring. Her big brain needed proper stimuli, something meaningful, and her big heart needed to focus on others rather than herself.

      * * *

      On the third day, when her father announced he was going into town, Bella insisted on accompanying him, although he did not take much persuading. Both her parents saw her desire to leave the house as a positive step forward and delighted in seeing tangible evidence of progress, although they never, ever discussed it.

      The lack of communication about the incident made it harder. Her parents, or more specifically her father, had decided from the outset it was better for everyone if they pretended it had never happened, as if blithely ignoring that dreadful night in Vauxhall Gardens would somehow erase it from existence. Yet how could it? Bella could still see his eyes boring down into hers. Still smell the fetid odour of the man’s filthy clothes and body. Still feel his hands groping her bare skin, pawing at her breasts and between her legs. Feel that part of him pressing against her flesh insistently. And all of it whilst pinned powerless beneath him in the dark bushes, unable to scream. Unable to run. All around her were the sounds of the laughing crowds and the fireworks and she was at the mercy of a monster.

      In that dreadful instant, she had learned that the world was not the safe, cossetted place she had always believed it to be. Darkness and evil lurked, waiting for the unsuspecting. The trusting. The good-hearted. She had stopped to give a poor beggar some coins and he had wanted something else entirely. He’d almost taken it...

      ‘Will you read to us again, Bella?’

      One of the three children currently in the cosy infirmary thrust a book into her hands. She stared down at the colourful picture book and grinned. ‘But I have already read you this one, not an hour ago.’

      ‘Yes, but we love that book, don’t we?’ Three pairs of angelic eyes pleaded with her. ‘Especially the way you read it. We love the way you do all of the voices.’

      ‘Very well.’ At least entertaining them gave her some purpose, even though she would much prefer to be doing something more...practical and, frankly, medicinal. Although a part of her enjoyed reading this particular Orange Blossom book, as a certain handsome doctor made an appearance in it, delivering a newborn foal to the horses on behalf of the stork and then a baby to Captain Galahad and Miss Freckles. As the book had been illustrated by Dr Warriner’s older brother Jamie, she was convinced Dr Sensible was based on the local physician. He certainly looked like him. Floppy dark hair, piercing blue eyes behind studious wire spectacles. Kind blue eyes. Eyes which she had noticed gazed longingly at her sister. Why did his obvious interest in Clarissa hurt, when every man had always preferred Clarissa and Bella no longer liked men? And whilst Dr Warriner was a brilliant scientist and she admired him for that, and whilst she might want to convince herself he was kind, trusting and noble, he was still a man. Another man who fancied her sister. No matter how many times she thought about it, it still stung. If it wasn’t so ridiculous a concept, she might even have described her initial reaction as jealousy. Which was impossible when one considered Bella now couldn’t bear the thought of being with a man. Any man. Even a brilliant and handsome doctor, with eyes as blue as the ocean. All in all, it was better to not think about it, despite her brain’s inability to stop.

      * * *

      Bella had read the book from cover to cover. Two of the children had drifted off to sleep by the time she quietly closed the book. The third, a usually boisterous lad by the name of Tom, stared listlessly at the ceiling. His cheeks were almost scarlet. Earlier, he had complained about a bit of a sore throat and had a slight cough. Now he was glassy eyed and still. Despite promising her father and the matron she would confine herself to the chair, something about the look of the boy did not sit right. She limped towards his cot and laid a hand on his brow. His skin was on fire.

      She hobbled across the ward to pour a bowl of cool water and dunked a clean square of linen into it. After placing it across Tom’s fevered brow, Bella quickly found a maid and told her to summon the physician. All her reading told her the rapid onset of a high temperature did not bode well and signalled something nasty.

      Back at his bedside, she sat and used the cold flannel to cool the boy’s skin. ‘The doctor is on his way, Tom. Are you in any pain?’

      ‘My throat.’ His voice was so hoarse he winced as he whispered and frightened tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.

      ‘Let me see.’ His mouth was so swollen that seeing was impossible. Remembering the spare medical tools Dr Warriner kept in the cabinet, Bella rummaged through them and returned with the ivory tongue depressor she had seen him use before. ‘Say ah, Tom.’

      The boy did as instructed, with some difficulty, but Bella saw the swollen and infected tonsils. To her untrained eyes they appeared very infected indeed, which suggested quinsy. The high temperature and general malaise confirmed the diagnosis. The poor lad must be in agony and his rapid fever was a worry.

      ‘Dr СКАЧАТЬ