The Daughter of the Manor. Бетти Нилс

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      ‘As I said, let me know if you are worried about anything.’ He glanced at Leonora. ‘Forewarned is forearmed.’

      ‘Obliged to you for coming,’ said Sir William. ‘I’m sure there’ll be coffee downstairs for you. Busy, are you?’

      The doctor, who had been up all night with a premature baby, replied that no, he wasn’t unduly so.

      ‘Probably a good deal easier than a city practice,’ said Sir William, blithely unaware that the doctor’s practice extended for miles in every direction. Some of the outlying farms were well off the main roads, and the lanes leading to them were, as often as not, churned into muddy ruts.

      Downstairs Lady Crosby was waiting for them in the drawing room, looking anxious.

      ‘Fetch the coffee, Leonora; Nanny has it ready. Come and sit down, Doctor, and tell me if Sir William is ill or if it’s just a bad cold.’

      ‘Flu, Lady Crosby. He will need to keep to his bed for a few days and take the antibiotic I have prescribed. He should be perfectly all right within a week, provided he keeps warm and quiet; he isn’t as young as he was.’

      He smiled at her and she smiled back. ‘Sixty-one— I’m a good deal younger.’ Lady Crosby, who had been a very pretty girl, wasn’t averse to a little admiration and her smile invited it.

      She was disappointed and a little put out; she had been spoilt and pampered for most of her life, only during the last difficult years she had had to forgo the comforts and luxuries she had taken for granted. She loved her husband and daughter, but took their care and attention as her right. The expected compliment from the doctor wasn’t forthcoming. All he said was, ‘I’m going to Bath; perhaps your daughter might come with me and get the prescription I have written up for Sir William. I shall be returning within the hour and will give her a lift back.’

      Leonora, coming in with the coffee, heard the last part of this and said, in her matter-of-fact way, ‘Oh, there is no need for that. I can take the car—I might hold you up.’

      ‘Nonsense, dear,’ said her mother. ‘Why take the car when you can get a lift? Dr Galbraith is coming back to the village. You’ll probably have time to pop into that wool shop and see if you can match my embroidery silks…’

      She poured the coffee. ‘Have you taken a tray up to your father, dear? I dare say he would like a hot drink.’ She smiled charmingly at the doctor. ‘We shall take the greatest care of him, Doctor.’

      He glanced from mother to daughter; Leonora had inherited her mother’s good looks on a more generous scale; he fancied she had inherited her father’s forthright and strong-willed nature. It was no life for a girl such as she—living with elderly parents and, he suspected, bearing the burden of the household management in the down-at-heel, still beautiful house. Still, he remembered, she was engaged; presumably she would marry shortly. Not that he had liked the man.

      Leonora, wrapped up against the weather, got into the car presently. He was glad to see that she had found a decent hat and her gloves and handbag were beyond reproach. Not that he cared in the least about her appearance, but with her striking looks she deserved the right clothes.

      Glancing at her profile, he set himself out to be pleasant and had the satisfaction of seeing her relax. Gradually he led the conversation round to more personal matters, putting a quiet question here and there so casually that she answered freely, unaware that she was talking about things that she had kept tucked away at the back of her head because neither her mother nor her father would want to hear about them, and nor would Tony: small niggling doubts, little worries, plans she had little hope of putting into effect.

      They were on the outskirts of Bath when she said abruptly, ‘I’m sorry, I must be boring you. I expect you get enough moaning from your patients.’

      ‘No, no, talking never bores me, unless it is the kind of chat you encounter at parties. I’m going to park at the Royal National Hospital. There are several chemists in Milsom Street; fetch the prescription and come back to the car. There’s a quiet restaurant by the abbey—I hope you’ll take pity on me and have lunch.’ When she opened her mouth to refuse he said, ‘No, don’t say that you have to go home at once; you would be too late for lunch anyway, and I promise you I’ll get you home within the next hour or so.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘I have an afternoon surgery…’

      ‘Well, that would be nice; thank you. I don’t like to be away from home for very long because of Father…’

      He had stopped the car by the hospital and got out to open her door. ‘I’ll be fifteen minutes. If I’m longer than that, go and wait in the entrance hall…’

      He watched her walk away. She was just as nice to look at from the back as from the front. He smiled a little as he went into the hospital.

      When she got back he was there, waiting for her. ‘We’ll leave the car here; it’s only a few minutes’ walk. You know Bath well?’

      The restaurant was small, quiet, and the food was excellent. Leonora, savouring a perfectly grilled sole, thought she must remember to tell Tony about it; it was a long time since they had been out together for a meal—he was happy to stay at home with her, he always told her, and she spent hours in the kitchen conjuring up a meal he would like from as little of the housekeeping money as possible.

      She wished that he were sitting opposite her now instead of Dr Galbraith and despised herself for the mean thought. After all, he had no reason to give her lunch and she had to admit he was a pleasant companion. All the same, she had the sneaking feeling that behind that bland face there was a man she wouldn’t care to cross swords with.

      They talked as they ate, exchanging views on Bath, Pont Magna and its inhabitants, and the various houses in it.

      ‘I used to go to Buntings when I was a little girl,’ Leonora told him. ‘It’s a lovely old house. Are you happy there?’

      ‘Yes. It is the kind of place where you feel instantly at home. I expect you feel that about your own home?’

      ‘Oh, yes. It’s badly in need of repairs, though. Some rich American wanted to buy it last year, but Father wouldn’t hear of it. His family have lived in it for a very long time. It would break his heart to leave.’

      ‘I can understand that. It is a delightful house. Rather large to look after, though.’

      ‘Yes, but quite a few rooms are shut and Nanny and I can manage the rest.’

      She frowned and he said smoothly, ‘Nannies are marvellous, aren’t they? Shall we go? I must get you back before someone wonders where you are.’

      Less than an hour later he stopped the car at her home, got out to open her door and waited until she had gone inside. He had beautiful manners, she thought, and hoped that she had thanked him with sufficient warmth.

      Her mother was in the drawing room. ‘There you are, dear. Have you got those pills for your father? He’s rather peevish so I came down here to have a little rest—I find looking after someone ill so very tiring. We’ll have tea soon, shall we? Perhaps Nanny could make a few scones.’

      Leonora said, ‘Yes, Mother,’ and went to look for Nanny.

      In the kitchen Nanny asked, ‘Have you had some lunch, Miss СКАЧАТЬ