Rags To Riches Collection. Rebecca Winters

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СКАЧАТЬ doctor, appealed to, observed that indeed Miss Pomfrey looked charming. But his eyes when he glanced at her were cold.

      Amsterdam was everything that she had hoped for, and Piet took her from one museum to the other, for a trip on the canals, a visit to the Rijksmusee and there they had a quick look at the shops. They had coffee and had a snack lunch and, later, tea. And in the evening, as the lights came on, they strolled along the grachten, looking at the old houses and the half-hidden antique shops.

      He took her to the Hotel de L’Europe for dinner, and it was while they drank their coffee that he told her that he was to marry in the New Year.

      ‘Anna is in Canada, visiting her grandparents,’ he told her. ‘I miss her very much, but soon she will be home again. You would like each other. She is like you, I think, rather quiet—I think you say in English, a home bird? She is a splendid cook and she is fond of children. We shall be very happy.’

      He beamed at her across the table and she smiled back while the half-formed daydreams tumbled down into her new shoes. She had been a fool, but, thank heaven, he had no idea…

      ‘Tell me about her,’ said Araminta. Which he did at some length, so that it was late by the time they reached the doctor’s house.

      ‘We must go out together again,’ said Piet eagerly.

      ‘Well, I’m not sure about that. I believe we’re going back to England very shortly. Shall I let you know?’ She offered a hand. ‘It’s been a lovely day, and thank you so very much for giving me dinner. If we don’t see each other again, I hope that you and your Anna will be very happy.’

      ‘Oh, we shall,’ he assured her.

      ‘Don’t get out of the car,’ said Araminta. ‘There’s Bas at the door.’

      It was quiet in the hall, and dimly lit. Bas wished her goodnight and went away, and she stood there feeling very alone. She had only herself to thank, of course. Had she really imagined that someone as uninteresting as herself could attract a man? He had asked her out of kindness—she hoped he hadn’t pitied her…

      She was aware that the study door was open and the doctor was standing there watching her. She made for the stairs, muttering goodnight, but he put out an arm and stopped her.

      ‘You look as though you are about to burst into tears. You’ll feel better if you talk about it.’

      ‘I haven’t anything to talk about…’

      He put a vast arm round her shoulders. ‘Oh, yes, you have. I did try to warn you, but you wouldn’t allow me to.’

      He sounded quite different: kind, gentle and understanding.

      ‘I’ve been such a fool,’ began Araminta as she laid her head against his shoulder and allowed herself the luxury of a good cry.

CHAPTER SIX

      THE doctor, waiting patiently while Araminta snivelled and snorted into his shoulder, became aware of several things: the faint scent of clean mousy hair under his chin, the slender softness of her person and a wholly unexpected concern for her. Presently he gave her a large white handkerchief.

      ‘Better?’ he asked. ‘Mop up and give a good blow and tell me about it.’

      She did as she was told, but said in a watery voice, ‘I don’t want to talk about it, thank you.’ And then she added, ‘So sorry…’ She had slipped from his arm. ‘You’ve been very kind. I’ll wash your hanky…’

      He sat her down in a small chair away from the brightness of his desk lamp.

      ‘You don’t need to tell me if you don’t wish to.’ He had gone to a small table under the window and come back with a glass. ‘Drink that; it will make you feel better.’

      She sniffed it. ‘Brandy? I’ve never had any…’

      ‘There’s always a first time. Of course, van Vleet told you that he was going to be married shortly.’ He watched her sip the brandy and draw a sharp breath at its strength. ‘And you had thought that he was interested in you. He should have told you when you first met him, but I imagine that it hadn’t entered his head.’ He sighed. ‘He’s a very decent young man.’

      Araminta took another sip, a big one, for the brandy was warming her insides. She felt a little sick and at the same time reckless.

      She said, in a voice still a little thick from her tears, ‘I have been very silly. I should know by now that there is nothing about me to—to make a man interested. I’m plain and I have no conversation, and I wear sensible clothes.’

      The doctor hid a smile. ‘I can assure you that when you meet a man who will love you, none of these things will matter.’

      She said in her matter-of-fact way, ‘But I don’t meet men—young men. Father and Mother have friends I’ve known for years. They’re all old and mostly married.’ She tossed back the rest of the brandy, feeing light-headed. Vaguely she realised that in the morning she was going to feel awful about having had this conversation. ‘I shall, of course, make nursing my career and be very successful.’ She got to her feet. ‘I’ll go to bed now.’ She made for the door. ‘I feel a little sick.’

      He crossed the hall with her and stood watching while she made her way upstairs. She looked forlorn and he ignored a wish to help her. Her pride had been shattered; he wouldn’t make it worse.

      Thanks to the brandy, Araminta slept all night, but everything came rushing back into her head when she woke up. She remembered only too clearly the talk she had had with the doctor. To weep all over him had been bad enough, but she had said a great deal too much. She got up, went to call the boys and prayed that he would have left the house before they went down to breakfast.

      Her prayers weren’t answered; he was sitting at the table just as usual, reading his letters, his spectacles perched on his splendid nose.

      He got up as they went in, received the boys’ hugs and wished her good morning with his usual cool politeness. She gave him a quick look as she sat down; there was no sign of the gentle man who had comforted her last night. He was as he always was: indifferent, polite and totally uninterested in her. Her rather high colour subsided; it was clear their conversation was to be a closed book. Well, she had learned her lesson; if ever a man fell in love with her—and she doubted that—he would have to prove it to her in no uncertain fashion. And she would take care to stay heartwhole.

      The day passed in its well-ordered fashion; there was plenty to keep her occupied. The boys, fit again, were full of energy, noisy, demanding her attention and time. She welcomed that, just as she welcomed the routine, with their uncle’s return in the evening and the hour of leisure while they were with him. He went out again as soon as they were in bed, wishing her a cool goodnight as he went.

      Araminta, eating her dinner under Bas’s kindly eye, wondered where he was. Probably with Christina Lutyns, she supposed. Much as she disliked the woman there was no doubt that she would make a suitable wife for the doctor. Suitable, but not the right one. There was a side to him which she had only glimpsed from time to time—not the cool, bland man with his beautiful manners and ease; there was a different man behind that impassive face СКАЧАТЬ