Nurse for the Doctor (16 page)

And then she was asleep.

In the morning, it was Carlos de Palheiro—apart from the doctor—who was the first visitor to the
casa
. He came, driving himself in a sleek, silver-colored car, and it was the first time Josie had seen him controlling the wheel of a moving vehicle.

She had just emerged from the sick-room, and was pacing up and down at the head of the drive, when he appeared. She was feeling a little sleepy but in need of air at the same time; the doctor had just ordered her off to bed. Carlotta was to take over while she was asleep, but Josie was not ready to go in yet.

The marquis descended from the car with lightning speed, and came striding over to her. As she hardly dared to look up at him she could feel, rather than see, his eyes searching her face.

“You are tired,
querida
,” he said quickly, and even then she did not dare to lift her eyes. And he continued more formally: “You must get some rest! How long is it since you were in bed? Not since the night before last?”

“I had a
siesta
yesterday afternoon,” she replied. And then she added, feeling as if a magnet were drawing her eyes to his: “It won’t hurt me to miss a little sleep. I am used to it.”

“You may be used to it,” he returned, rather shortly “but you are not the type who can afford to miss it.” And then as if he suddenly remembered the object of his very early morning call: “How is
Tia
Amelie?”

“She had quite a good night, and the doctor is fairly satisfied with her this morning. But, of course, she is old, and any shock at her time of life is—well, it could be serious. Quite apart from the injury to her ankle, I mean.”

“I understand.” He stared rather grimly at the flagged floor of the terrace. “Is it permitted that I see her as early as this?”

“The doctor is with her now, and he may be some little time, but when he comes down perhaps you would like to have a word with him. After that you will almost certainly be able to see her.”

He nodded. Then he looked at her again.

“In the meantime I will wait here.”

“I”—her voice sounded a little shy—“I was going to have some coffee before going upstairs to my room. I wonder whether you—whether you would like some, too,
senor
?”

“I would love some.” His dark eyes were giving her that curious feeling as if the mystic darkness of them were reaching out and enfolding her, almost like a caress. “And the name is Carlos,” he added. “It is absurd that you should call me
senor
.”

“But I could hardly call a marquis by his Christian name,” she returned, smiling for the first time that morning, and with rather whimsical amusement. “If I did so it would be even more absurd than
senor
, considering my position.”

He uttered an exclamation that sounded like “Bah!” and was very impatient.

“
I
shall call you Josie,” he told her, “considering that Michael Duveen does—and will you please not talk nonsense about your position. At the moment you are behaving like an angel in helping us out in this way, and neither I nor my aunt will forget it.” His eyes seemed to flame a little. “I shall certainly not forget how readily you overlooked the fact that you were all dressed up—and so enchantingly—for an evening’s entertainment and got down to the task of being of service to someone who is very dear to me.”

What with the growing power of the sun, the confusion resulting from lack of sleep, and the warmth of his voice, Josie felt herself flushing uncontrollably, and feeling almost as warm as she looked.

“It was nothing,” she assured him. “Absolutely nothing.”

“It was a great deal. And I’m glad you told me about Duveen. Very glad.”

For a moment she stared up at him. Did he mean that he was glad because in future he would cease to worry about any competition where his sister was concerned...?

And then the doctor came bustling out of the house, a little man with brilliant dark eyes and a rotund body, and when he caught sight of the marquis he greeted him with an expression of pleasure, and none of the subservience Josie might have expected from him.

“Ah!” he exclaimed. “You are early abroad,
senor
!
And the good lady, your aunt, is surprisingly better this morning. Surprisingly better! She is tough, is Dona Amelie, and it wouldn’t amaze me in the least if in a few weeks from now she was hobbling about with a stick.” The marquis looked grave.

“Then it is likely to be quite a long job, Doctor?”

The doctor made a little expressive movement with his plump shoulders.

“But, my dear Marquis, I ask you! A lady of her age, and to tumble down a flight of stairs such as the one in this house. The shock alone could have killed her, and as it is we have to be thankful for a miracle. She will require very careful nursing for a while, and this young lady here has promised me that I can count upon her until it is possible to replace her. Not,” with a rather comical look at Josie, “that I would replace her at all if she would consent to remain altogether.”

Carlos looked at Josie.

“That is impossible, isn’t it?” he said. “You would not wish to take it on?”

“I—” Josie hesitated. “It isn’t that I wouldn’t like to take it on, but I am not exactly a free agent.”

“Dr. Duveen no longer requires a nurse.”

“No.” And she looked him straight in the eyes.

“Then, perhaps if we approached him—if we approached Mrs. Duveen—? And you feel that it would not be too great a strain—?”

“It wouldn’t be a strain,” she answered. I would willingly stay,” and once again she lifted her eyes to his face so that he could see how unwavering was the expression in them.

He was silent for a few seconds, and then he turned to the doctor.

“We will see,” he said. “This is something that cannot be decided this morning, but we will see.”

When the doctor had driven away in his car Josie looked a little uncertainly at the man she was once again left alone with.

“Shall I ring for the coffee?” she said. “Unless you wish to go straight up to your aunt?”

“No, I would like some coffee,” he replied, and walked with her through to the patio that is the heart and core of all Spanish houses of this type. There they relaxed in comfortable wicker chairs, with the warmth of the morning falling pleasantly about them, the glossy leaves of orange trees shining like satin in the sunlight, and the all-pervading perfume of roses filling the air like incense. Josie thought how good it was to be there alone with him like this, and although she was physically weary she was suddenly very light at heart. For when real love opens like a flower all around one there is a certain all-pervading peace in the mere presence of the beloved—or so she had recently discovered.

The marquis did not offer her a cigarette because she so seldom accepted, but he stared at the tip of his own rather thoughtfully.

“This is something I had not, as you might say, bargained for,” he said, frowning a little. “This accident to
Tia
Amelie. I have made plans to return to Madrid, and it was my intention that you should all accompany me there. That is to say, Mrs. Duveen and Michael, Miss Petersen, and, of course, Maria—and, naturally, yourself. But now you will have to be left behind.”

Josie felt as if the sun were no longer shining on the leaves of the orange trees, and causing them to glitter like water, and she no longer knew a sensation of peace removing all the fret from her soul. She suddenly felt as if a cold hand clutched at her heart.

Left behind...

Carlos lifted his eyes and looked straight at her.

“Can you endure it?” he asked.

His choice of words, just then, should have struck her as odd; but it didn’t because she was still feeling almost shocked. She heard herself answering a little incoherently:

“Endure it...? Why, I—why, yes, of course! If Dona Amelie wants me—and Mrs. Duveen is agreeable. And, in any case, I would have been going home to England, because, as you said, Dr. Duveen no longer requires a nurse, and there would have been very little point in my coming with you to Madrid. I mean”—as he stared at her oddly—“I mean I would have been rather superfluous...”

“Would you?” Leaning forward with his cigarette burning away between his fingers.

“Yes. At least, I—” His expression was so incomprehensible that she couldn’t go on, and she felt all at once completely confused. “That is...”

“London is a long way from the Costa Brava,” he reminded her.

Yes.”

“A very long way!” And then he ground out his cigarette beneath the heel of his shoe. “But this is no time to talk to you like this ... You badly need sleep, and I must go upstairs and see
Tia
Amelie. But while you are marking time here on the coast with an invalid you might like to remember sometimes that virtue is not always its own reward. There are other rewards ... And they can be made sweeter by waiting.”

CHAPTER XIV

Less
than a week later the party at the marquis’s villa moved on to Madrid. Before they left Michael came to say goodbye to Josie.

He looked at her a little ruefully as they shook hands.

“You know, Josie,” he said, “I asked you to marry me, but you thought so little of my proposal that you didn’t even bother to say ‘Yes’, or ‘No’. Don’t you think I’m the sort of person to be taken seriously?”

“Of course I do,” Josie assured him, but as she looked at him she wondered how she could make it clear to him that emotionally—even by comparison with herself—he was a little retarded. Before his accident he might have been in love with the girl who changed her mind about him—and whose name she had never learnt—but somehow she couldn’t be convinced about it. He had recovered so quickly. And she knew that it would have taken little encouragement for him to make love to her, but she did not wish a man to make love to her who had no real idea what he wanted out of life. No doubt he had more than once made love to Maria in the sensuous magic of Spanish moonlight; but moonlight is a thing of fantasy, of which dreams are spun, and love that endures has to face up to the sunlight as well, and be far more tenacious than gossamer. Love that goes on enduring has to put up with all sorts of atmospheric disturbances, and where mortals exist those disturbances are fairly certain.

Somehow she couldn’t see Michael putting any woman first in his life—not even Dona Maria, when the time came. And for that very reason, even if her heart hadn’t been utterly secure, she could never have listened to him seriously.

She was a serious person. Her life could only be lived happily with another who felt as she did about most things, not just the physical sufferings of humanity. And at least Michael had those at heart.

She tried to smile and treat the matter lightly—without hurting him—as she said: “If I’d said ‘Yes’ I think you would have had a shock—when you thought about it afterwards. You would probably have found it hard to forgive me.”

“Josie, how can you say such a thing?” he rebuked her, frowning. And then he laughed suddenly, a little regretfully, however. “You may be right, nevertheless! It wouldn’t have been a shock to find I’d got to marry you, Josie—but it mightn’t have worked out well for you! Enchanting though I find you, at times, I mightn’t have wanted to have you around all the time. Although, on the other hand—perhaps I’m missing something that would have made me very happy.”

He took her hand and held it, looking at the delicate, and yet extraordinarily capable fingers.

“You’re not—you haven’t lost your heart to Carlos, have you, Josie?” he asked, with sudden curtness. “Not so seriously that you can’t get it back again?”

Josie let her fingers stay very quietly in his.

“The important thing about giving anything as peculiarly personal as a heart away to anyone is that you should do so without any hopes of getting anything in return,” she said, her voice very low, although her eyes were clear as she gazed at him. “In some cases the mere act of giving is enough.”

“But not in your case, Josie! You’re young, and lovely, and you deserve things—lots of things. You’ll have to find yourself a husband one day, but de Palheiro is not, I’m afraid, for you. I’ve watched him, and I believe he’s strongly attracted to you—perhaps there’s a sort of affinity, or something of the sort, between you—but there is also Sylvia Petersen. My dear, I hate to say this, but—she’ll get him in the end You must be prepared almost any day now for news of an engagement. And I wouldn’t say that if I hadn’t—well, inside information, as they say in racing circles.”

“No, I’m sure you wouldn’t,” Josie returned, in the same quiet voice, and very gently she drew her hand away from his. “But I’ve been expecting that announcement ever since we arrived here, so it won’t really be a shock, will it?”

“It could be,” Michael replied, and bit his lip. “Why did I pick on you to nurse me, Josie? You’d have been happier left behind at Chessington House.”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t.” She shook her head. “It’s been wonderful—seeing Spain.”

“And giving away your heart. I wish you could get it back, Josie.” He turned away. “
I
shan’t announce my engagement to anyone for some considerable while, so if you ever need me, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

And when he left her alone she felt as if someone who really had her interests at heart—even though he didn’t dwell upon them all the time—had gone away from her when she needed him most. For a short while she was dismayed by a sharp sensation of acute loss that actually brought her near to tears; tears because the future was going to be such an empty thing...

When the marquis went away he did so without taking a particular farewell of her. One afternoon he called to see his aunt, announced, while Josie was still in the room, that it might be some time before he saw either of them again, and when he finally took his departure had no more than a smile for Josie, a warm pressure of the hand, and a recommendation that she looked after herself and his aunt.