Dear Tiberius; (aka Nurse Nolan) (21 page)

devoted Fiske had a place that was just as secure in her heart. And during recent months she had made many new friends, including quite a few of the staff at the clinic in
V
ienna, and most notable of all Dr. Wern himself.

For Dr. Wern she had conceived a schoolgirl
’
s admiration, perhaps a touch of adoration. He had given her back so much—all that really made life worth living. She was able to walk again; life could be completely full for her! He had delightful manners and he was kindness itself. She had known from the first that he understood her. She felt safe and secure with him.

Then, when the question of her convalescence had arisen, it was he who had persuaded her father to allow her to be brought to this enchanting retreat in the mountains. Frau Wern, who ran the little hotel that catered for the odd winter sports enthusiast as well as summer visitors, was his mother, and his two sisters, Gretel and Lise, helped her. Frau Wern was a woman whose capacious proportions were only outdone by her capacious heart, and Miranda had loved her from the instant they met. The compliment was returned, and Gretel and Lise combined nowadays with Frau Wern to spoil Miranda and make such a tremendous fuss of her that sometimes Lucy was
a
little inclined to wonder whether the spoiling might not go too far, and Miranda become a little difficult to manage in the future.

Not that she begrudged Miranda happiness of any kind. The child had suffered too much and happiness was her natural birthright, but Lucy did hope she wasn
’
t going to develop a faintly willful tendency.

This afternoon the set of her mouth and a spark in her eyes betokened a mind made up on at least one subject, but Lucy decided to treat the matter lightly—for the time being, at any rate.

“
You ridiculous infant,
”
she said.
“
Naturally your father

didn
’
t want you to die, and he isn
’
t the sort of man to wear his heart on his sleeve. His type doesn
’
t do that sort of thing.
”

“
Rupprecht doesn
’
t wear his heart on his sleeve, either— but he
’
s different!
”

“
Who gave you permission to call Dr. Wern, Rupprecht?
”
“
Everyone does here. It
’
s his name—so why shouldn
’
t
I
?
”
Lucy smiled as she looked at her. Miranda regarded her earnestly.

“
You do like him, don
’
t you?
”
she asked seriously.
“
Dr. Wern,
I
mean. Really like him, Noly! Because it
’
s important that you should! I
’
ve got plans....
”

“
Oh, yes
?”
Lucy murmured, and the look of amusement increased in her eyes as she studied the flowerlike face. But Miranda appeared impatient.

“
You mustn
’
t think I
’
m joking, because I
’
m not. This is something I
’
ve thought about for weeks, and I don
’
t want my idea to be spoiled.
”

“
Perhaps you
’
ll tell me what it is you want me to do?
”
Lucy asked.
“
Then maybe I can be a little cooperative.
”

“
I want you to marry Dr. Wern!
”

Lucy
’
s face became instantly grave. She looked away from the watchful-eyed child at a group of pines in the middle distance, casting shadows like blue pencils on the whiteness of the snow. Above them the sun still shone brilliantly and it was still deliciously warm.

“
You do, do you?
”
she murmured at last.
“
But supposing Dr. Wern doesn
’
t want to marry me?
”

“
He does—I know he does!
”

But Lucy persistently looked away from her.

“
I
think you
’
re an absurd child,
”
she said at last. Miranda made an impatient movement.

“
Well, if you won
’
t, Noly, I
’
ll wait until I grow up and
...
marry him myself!
”

Lucy
’
s face instantly broke into smiles, and her deep-blue eyes beamed gay approval.

“
Now, that certainly is an idea!
”
she exclaimed.
“
A really excellent idea, if Dr. Wern doesn
’
t mind having to put up with a waiting period! But, in the meantime—and unless you want to earn his disapproval—you
’
ll come back with me into your bedroom and get dressed, and then I
’
ll tuck you in a chair out here.
”

Whereupon Miranda—who would have done anything to avoid earning anything in the nature of disapproval from Dr. Wern—went with her meekly.

When Lucy h
ad got her warmly dressed and tucked in one of the long wicker lounging chairs, she went downstairs into the lounge of the hotel. At least half a dozen cuckoo clocks were all striking the hour at the same time, and Frau Wern was busy rearranging a bowl of mixed spring flowers that she had found under the snow—aconites and snowdrops, and some deep blue gentians. Lucy caught their fragrance as she went toward her.

Frau Wern looked up and beamed expansively.

“
The little one is well?
”
she asked, as she always did when she came face to face with Lucy.

Lucy smiled, with a glint of amusement in her eyes.

“
She is extremely well at the moment, and getting slightly out of hand.
”

“
Nein, nein
!
”
Frau Wern exclaimed, as if that was altogether impossible. She waved a snowdrop under Lucy
’
s nose and the latter sniffed ecstatically.
“
The little Miranda is merely beginning to feel new life flowing back into her veins, and for that we must rejoice. And
I
have another cause for rejoicing!
”
She bent toward Lucy and whispered impressively into her ear.
“
My son arrives in time for dinner, and that is why I make the place look gay with flowers!
”

Lucy was a little taken aback.

“
Dr. Wern—arriving in time for dinner?
”

“
Ja
.
”
The snowdrop was tucked into the bowl and Frau Wern stood back to regard it.
“
Is it not an occasion for some sort of celebration? We will have the singers up from the village tonight, and Gretel is in the kitchen preparing all sorts of surprises for the dinner.
”
She beamed even more expansively.
“
I
am always happy when my son comes.
”

“
I
’
m sure you are,
”
Lucy murmured understand
i
ngly in her gentle voice, and Frau Wern spared her a glance of complete approval. She was like a fragile flower, this English young woman, but she undoubtedly had the right ideas about all that was most important in life, and she had been good to the little Miranda. No wonder the somewhat awe
-
inspiring Sir John was so insistent that where Miranda went Nurse Nolan went also.

“
Such an evening we will have!
”
Frau Wern promised, and Lucy smiled at her and went on her way to the little room that opened off the lounge, with its antlered walls, where afternoon tea was always set out for her at this hour, although it was never provided for anyone else.

As she lifted the cream jug and stared at it thoughtfully she decided that Miranda, at least, would be excited by this news that Dr. Wern was coming to the Hotel Arlberg.

As she dressed f
or dinner that night Lucy was in a curious mood, letting her mind, dwell on past events as if she was looking backward down a vista. There was the moment when she had first been summoned by telephone by Sir John, all the way from London, to look after his daughter, and the hopelessness of her thoughts when first she saw that daughter. The weeks when she had been devoting all her time to Miranda, and regarding the father as if he was some kind of an inhuman monster—and those later weeks when he had asked her to stay on as companion for Miranda, and she had felt just a little differently toward him—he had, perhaps, been
slightly
human at that phase!

And then, after she met him in London with Lynette Harling, and Kathleen likened him to Tiberius—how had she felt about him at that stage? Was she beginning to fall in love with him then? Had he already at that time become
Dear Tiberius
?

She sighed as she examined the dresses in the wardrobe and decided that as it was to be in the nature of a gala night, something a little more festive looking than usual would be expected of her, and she selected a dress of wine red silk with a thickly pleated skirt and a halter neckline. The richness of the color emphasized the creamy whiteness of her skin and the glossy darkness of her hair, and under the electric lights the tan she had acquired so recently became subdued to a most attractive ivory pallor.

As she removed the dress from its hanger and shook it out slightly, a faint perfume that had clung to it since she had worn it last stole out and disturbed her with recollections of that particular occasion. It was while she was still in Vienna, only about a week after Miranda
’
s successful operation, and just before Sir John returned to England. He had surprised her considerably by asking her if she would dine with him at his hotel—they could regard it, he said, as a celebration dinner because Miranda was doing so splendidly—and afterward he had produced tickets for a concert of Strauss music.

Lucy had enjoyed the evening so thoroughly that it was now one of her imperishable memories, and the perfume stealing out from among the folds of her dress brought every moment of it back to her: Sir John looking so distinguished, and so
unmistakably English in his evening dress, and with the gray, anxious look gone from his face, regarding her as if he found it a pleasure to have her opposite him at his flower-decked table in the dining room of his hotel
—
one of Vienna
’
s most recently constructed, and therefore, more lavish erections. The flowers on the table chosen by him for the occasion were very dark red carnations, like the dark red of her dress, and Lucy had been strongly tempted to rescue one from the well-filled vase and keep it as a souvenir of this night, when for the first time they had really ceased to be merely employer and employee.

And after the concert—which had seemed so wonderful there in that romantic, ancient city on the Danube that the echoes of it seemed to linger in Lucy
’
s ears even yet— because for once the night was fine and sparkling with stars, they had walked through the quiet streets to the cathedral square, and then taken a taxicab out to the clinic. And during that drive to the clinic Sir John had told Lucy how grateful he was to her for all she had done—both for him and for Miranda, as he put it—and had expressed the hope that one day he would be able to repay her adequately.

“
When Miranda is really on her feet again, and all is well with her, I plan to take her for a long sea voyage, perhaps a trip around the world in one of the ships of our own line. For me it will be a matter of combining business with pleasure, but for Miranda it will be a reward for all that she has had to endure over this dreadful past year. And if you could be persuaded to come with us...?
”

Lucy felt her heart turn over.

“
Perhaps by that time,
”
she suggested rather faintly.
“
Miranda will no longer desire me to be always at her elbow.
”

“
Nonsense!
”
he exclaimed, almost sharply.
“
Miranda will always desire you to be at her elbow.
”

“
It
’
s kind of you to say that
,
Sir John,
”
she told him,
“
but we are looking rather far ahead, aren
’
t we? Miranda is only just out of the wood, and by the time she is fit enough for a sea voyage a great many things may have happened—
”
your marriage to Lynette Harling, for instance,
she said to herself,
may have taken place
“
—and we all may feel a little differently about—well, about things....
”

“
I don
’
t quite follow you,
”
Sir John said, a puzzled frown knitting his d
a
rk brows together.
“
What sort of things are we likely to feel different about?
”

Lucy felt as if she was suddenly in deep water, and she wondered how best to get out of it. She cast around rather wildly in her mind.

“
Such things as
..
.
as marriage!
”
she found herself stammering awkwardly, and then wished that she had kept silent.

“
I see,
”
Sir John exclaimed, his voice suddenly very quiet.
“
Well, yes, I suppose you
’
re right—that would make a difference.
”

Lucy huddled into her corner of the cab, Kathleen
’
s second-best fur coat, which she had loaned to her for occasions such as this, hunched around her shoulders over the wine dark evening dress, while Sir John, she could feel, stiffened on the seat beside her. She could not think why. She could only think that he resented this direct reference to his strictly personal affairs, and that he was annoyed with her. Although Lynette had shown her that magnificent ring that was the symbol of their engagement, perhaps the engagement was intended to be a strict secret between the two of them, since it had not yet been publicly announced, and Lynette had only been betrayed into showing the ring to Lucy because s
he
felt it would be a most effectual warning to her to entertain no vague dreams on her own account, and keep well away from Lynette
’
s preserves.

In any case it had worked. Lucy had suffered acutely since the night she had been shown that ring!

Sir John observed in the coolest of accents, while the taxicab slid between the gates of the clinic,
“
In any case, we can discuss all this when the time arrives. But, believe me. Nurse Nolan, I do fully sympathize with your point of view. Naturally one cannot commit oneself when one is about to accept new ties, and of course it was only an idea on my part. Probably it wouldn
’
t really be a workable one.
”

He helped her out of the cab, and while above them the Vienna stars spangled the deep night sky, she gave him her hand, and he looked down at her with a polite, strangely distant smile on his face. In the same bright, starry light she noticed how beautifully chiseled his lips were, but his black brows almost met in a line above his remote eyes.

“
Good night, nurse,
”
he said,
“
and thanks for your company tonight.
”

Lucy whispered back.
“
Good night—and thank you!
”
and then the taxi was conveying him back to the more
populous part of Vienna, the door behind her was standing open, and someone was waiting for her to enter.

The next day Sir John was returning to England. When would she see him again...?

So, as she shook out the red dress so many weeks later in her bedroom at the Hotel Arlberg, and these memories came drifting back to her, a bleak look descended over her face.

Since she saw Sir John last he had written to her punctiliously at regular intervals—although it was his secretary who had answered some of her own letters—but she felt that they were aeons apart. Much, much farther
apart than the miles that separated them in actual fact.

When she went down to dinner after settling Miranda for the night—no need to tell Miranda who was expected that night for Miranda had already heard the news from Lise when she brought her her supper tray, and was bright-eyed with excitement and threatening to keep awake more or less indefinitely—she heard sounds of merriment escaping from the kitchen. The kitchen was quite one of the most delightful corners of the house, big and bright and filled with sun in the daytime, and warm and cosy with its enormous cook-stove, at night. It was here Frau Wern sat in the evenings after dinner and made entries in the ledgers she kept so carefully, and Gretel knitted woollen stockings and pullovers, and Lise planned menus for the following day. Although Gretel was the cook, Lise was the one who actually organized everything, and was responsible for the large amount of variety that was introduced into the deliciously served meals.

Tonight Lise wore a frilled muslin apron over her dark skirt—the traditional
Dirndlkleid
of Austrian women— and a tight laced bodice embroidered in bright colors, beneath which was a snowy cambric blouse with puffed
sleeves. She smiled at Lucy as she whisked around the tables in the dining room, adding a knife here and a fork there, and making certain that the various flower arrangements were entirely as she liked them. Lucy looked so altogether charming in the red dress that Lise—who envied no one, and was aware that she was far too comfortably fat to look well in anything of the kind—gazed at her with all her admiration in her bright eyes. And when the kitchen door opened, following another loud gust of laughter, and Frau
Wern
emerged clinging to the arm of her son, and Gretel bringing up the rear, they all three paused as if instinctively to gaze in the direction of the slim young English girl, who had already taken her seat at the table.

Rupprecht Wern bowed over Lucy
’
s hand, and something in his eyes as he did so made her lower her own rather hastily and study the thick white damask of the tablecloth. He said quietly,
“
Is it permitted that I share your table with you tonight, Nurse Nolan? Or have you a very strong preference for being alone?
”

“
Of course not,
”
Lucy answered, looking up at him and forcing herself to smile naturally.
“
I
’
d love to have you share my table, and I can only think what a tremendous pity it is that Miranda isn
’
t up to share it with us. Though she would never begin to eat anything—she would simply sit and gaze at you as if you were a meal in yourself!
”

He laughed. When he was away from his clinic, and its atmosphere of subtly lowered voices and moderation in all things, he had the same gay, ringing laughter as his mother and sisters, and the same ready humor in his eyes.

“
Then it is perhaps just as well that Miranda is in bed,
”
he said,
“
because it is most important that she should eat all that is put in front of her. But
I
have, as a matter of fact, just been up to see her, and we have had a few words together. She is developing into quite a monkey, that one,
”
and he
smiled with a strong hint of tenderness at the
corner
s of his shapely mouth.

Lucy studied him unobtrusively while Lise brought the first course of their meal, a delicious, thick noodle soup that was both delectable and comforting. Perhaps if she had never made the acquaintance of Sir John Ash—if she had never even
heard
of Sir John Ash—this man before her, sitting at his ease at the flower-decked table might have interested her much more than he did at the present time. He was a man whom almost any girl could fall in love with—if her affections were not in any other way engaged. He was far handsomer than Sir John, had far more liveliness of expression, the most beautiful teeth masculine lips had surely ever parted over, and a slight, intriguing cleft in his chin that drew one
’
s attention to its strength and purpose. His eyes were positively lustrous, and when they looked at Lucy over the cluster of snowdrops and aconites that had been hiding their loveliness under the snow only such a very short while before, and were now filling a bright china bowl in the center of their table, the luster seemed to increase, unless it was her imagination.

She felt—as she had felt more than once before—that his eyes caressed her. And when she thought about all that he had done for Miranda....

“
Tonight you will see something of our traditional dancers and singers,
”
he told her as they waited for the huge dish of salad and the main meat course to be brought.
“
My mother has decided that we shall all be very happy.
”

“
I
know,
”
Lucy answered, staring shyly at her plate.
“
I
am looking forward to it.
”

“
To the singers and the dancers? Or merely to being happy?
”

“
Why—to everything that the evening has to offer,
”
she replied, feeling herself flushing faintly as she did so, however, for there was a twinkle in his eyes as they watched her.