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“Would you?” Griselda said eagerly. “Do you think so, Miss…”
“Latterly. Yes I do.”
“Come, my dear,” Co
Griselda turned to him as if he had been speaking a foreign language.
“What?”
“Don’t worry yourself. I shall attend to it all. I shall write this morning, a full letter with all that we know. If I post it today, it will go on the night train, and they will receive it in Edinburgh tomorrow morning. I will assume then that it was very quiet and she almost certainly felt nothing.” He shook his head a little. “Now, my dear, this has been a terrible day for you. I shall take you home where Mama can care for you.” His voice held a sudden relief at having thought of the ideal way of releasing himself from a situation beyond his ability. “You really must consider your… health, my dear. You should rest. There is nothing you can do here, I assure you.”
“That’s right, ma’am,” the stationmaster said quickly. “You go with your husband. ‘E is absolutely right, ma’am.”
Griselda hesitated, shot another anguished look at Hester, then succumbed to a superior force.
Hester watched her go with relief, and a sharp, sad memory of Mary saying how u
But Griselda was gone, and there was nothing she could add now. Perhaps in time Murdoch would think of the right things to say or do.
It was nearly another hour of questions and repeated futile answers before Hester was permitted to leave the station. She had recounted to every appropriate authority the exact instructions she had been given in Edinburgh, how Mary had seemed during the evening, that she had made no complaint whatever of illness, on the contrary, she had seemed in unusually good spirits. No, Hester had heard nothing unusual in the night, the sound of the wheels on the track had obliterated almost everything else anyway. Yes, without question she had given Mrs. Farraline her medicine, one vial as instructed. The other vial had already been empty.
No, she did not know the cause of Mrs. Farraline’s death. She assumed it was the heart complaint from which she suffered. No, she had not been told the history of the illness. She was not nursing her, simply accompanying her and making sure she did not forget her medicine or take a double dose. Could she have done so? No, she had not opened the case herself, it was exactly where Hester had put it. Besides which, Mary was not absentminded, nor approaching senility.
At last, feeling numb with sadness, Hester was permitted to leave, and made her way to the street, where she hailed a hansom cab and gave the driver Callandra Daviot’s address. She did not even consider whether it was a courteous thing to turn up in the middle of the morning, una
It was a gray day, with gusts of rain on the wind, but she was unaware of her surroundings. Grimy streets and soot-stained walls and wet pavements gave way to more gracious squares, falling leaves and splashes of autumn color, but they did not intrude into her consciousness.
“ ‘Ere y’are, miss,” the driver said at last, peering down at her through the peephole.
“What?” she said abruptly.
“We’re ‘ere, miss. Ye goin’ ter get out, or d’yer wa
“No, of course I don’t want to stay in here,” she said crossly, scrambling to open the door with one hand and grasp her bag with the other. She alighted awkwardly and, setting her bag on the pavement, paid him and bade him a good day. As the horse moved off, and the rain increased in strength, making broad puddles where the stones were uneven, she picked up the bag again and climbed the steps to the front door. Please heaven Callandra was at home, and not out engaged in one of her many interests. She had refused to think of that before, because she did not want to face the possibility, but now it seemed so likely she even hesitated on the step, and stood undecided in the rain, her feet wet, her skirts becoming sodden where they brushed the stones.
There was nothing to lose now. She pulled the bell knob and waited.
The door opened but it was a moment before the butler recognized her, then his expression changed.
“Good morning, Miss Latterly.” He made as if to say something further, then thought better of it.
“Good morning. Is Lady Callandra at home?”
“Yes ma’am. If you care to come in, I shall inform her you are here.” He moved aside to allow her to pass, his eyebrows slightly raised at her bedraggled appearance. He took her bag from her and set it down gingerly, then excused himself, leaving her dripping onto the polished floor.
It was Callandra herself who appeared, her curious, long-nosed face full of concern. As always, her hair was escaping its pins as if to take flight, and her green gown was more comfortable than elegant. The wide skirts had become her when she was younger and slimmer; now they no longer disguised a certain generosity of hip, but made her seem shorter than she was. However, her carriage, as always, was excellent, and her humor and intelligence more than made up for any lack of beauty.
“My dear, you look awful!” she said with anxiety. “Whatever has happened? I thought you had gone to Edinburgh. Was it canceled?” For the moment she ignored the sodden skirt and the generally crumpled gown, the hair as untidy as her own. “You look quite ill.”
Hester smiled in sheer relief at seeing her. It filled her with a sense of warmth far deeper than anything physical, like a homecoming after a lonely journey.
“I did go to Edinburgh. I came home on the overnight train. My patient died.”
“Oh my dear, I’m so sorry,” Callandra said quickly. “Before you got there? How wretched. Still-oh-” She searched Hester’s face. “That’s not what you mean, is it? She died in your charge?”
“Yes.”
“They had no business to dispatch you with someone so ill,” she said decisively. “Poor creature, to have died away from home, and on a train, of all things. You must feel dreadful. You certainly look it.” She took Hester’s arm. “Come in and sit down. That skirt is soaking wet. Nothing of mine will fit you, you’d step right through them. You’ll have to make do with one of the maid’s dresses. They are quite good enough until that dries out Or you’ll catch your-” She stopped and pulled a sorrowful face.
“Death,” Hester supplied for her with a ghost of a smile. “Thank you.”
“Daisy,” Callandra called loudly. “Daisy, come here if you please!”
Obediently a slender dark girl with wide eyes came out of the dining room door, a duster in her hand, her lace cap a trifle crooked on her head.
“Yes, your ladyship?”
“You are about Miss Latterly’s height Would you be good enough to lend her a dress until hers is dried out. I have no idea what she has been doing in it, but it is shedding a pool of water in here, and must be as cold as Christmas to wear. Oh, and you’d better find some boots and stockings for her too. Then on your way ask Cook to send some hot chocolate into the green room.”