Page 9

It is rare that Linette Tresilian finds herself at a loss for words. One of her many failings (so she has been often told), is her inability to keep her mouth shut as a lady should, but at this precise moment she finds herself struggling to force the words from her tongue.

It had been no mean feat to ready Dr Evans’ house for the new doctor’s arrival. It took a week alone to clear it of decades of clutter, to sort and remove the old man’s personal effects, then another week still to clean it top to bottom, to polish the floorboards, redecorate where needed. Then, of course, there was the ordering of fresh linens and curtains, the restocking of the larder, a whole life erased in order for a new one to replace it. Indeed, such a monumental task had been a painful one, not just for herself but the servants, too.

‘It has been destroyed,’ she says again, as the two men sitting before the fireplace simply continue to stare. ‘The windows. The door! Even from outside I could see the wreck in the hallway. I can only assume the rest, but if the exterior is any indication …’

Linette must take a breath, and in that gasped beat her cousin stands. He must clutch the cushioned arm of the chair to support his weakening frame and the new doctor (it must be him, for no one else is expected), half-rises from his own to support him. But Julian, with a grimace, waves him down again. ‘What do you mean?’

She releases her clutch from the door frame. She was gripping it so hard the wood has marked narrow gullies on her palms.

‘The gatehouse, of course,’ Linette says, quite unable to keep the waspishness from her voice. ‘What else would I speak of?’

A look of displeasure crosses Julian’s pale features, as it always does when she speaks in so forthright a manner.

‘Linette,’ he scolds, and gestures to the man at his side, standing too now, looking most perplexed. ‘We have company.’

‘So I see,’ she says, casting her gaze to said company, just long enough to mark how young the new physician is. She was expecting someone far older, Dr Beddoe’s age at the very least. ‘How do you do, Dr Talbot.’

‘A pleasure,’ he returns.

‘I regret to say it is not,’ she answers fast. ‘Certainly under such circumstances.’

‘Linette,’ Julian says, ‘pray, it is late. What are you saying?’

Has she not just indicated? Dear heaven, her cousin is no more attentive of her when they do converse than when they do not! Swallowing down a sigh, Linette rubs the fading marks on her hands.

‘The gatehouse has been destroyed.’

Julian is silent a moment, licks port-stained lips. Then, ‘Ring for Mrs Evans. She will have to make a room up.’ He turns to the new doctor, proffers an apologetic smile. ‘I hope you do not object, but it seems you must stay here at Plas Helyg, at least for tonight. Don’t you agree, Cousin?’

It would hardly matter if she did or not; the decision, it seems, has already been made. Dr Talbot, for his part, still looks perplexed, but he shields this with a polite smile.

‘I am sorry indeed to hear this news. But I could not prevail upon your hospitality without her ladyship’s express permission.’ He looks at Linette. ‘Do I have it?’

She blinks, not expecting this polite recognition; it softens her somewhat.

‘I fear there is not much else to be done.’

And so Enaid is rung for, the situation explained, instructions given.

The housekeeper ducks her capped head. ‘Dr Talbot may have the green room. It is already made up.’

Her voice shakes, and no wonder. But Julian does not notice, only turns to the younger man once more.

‘I’m sure you have as many questions as we do but I know you’re very tired. Perhaps you would like to retire now? Things will be clearer in the morning, I have no doubt.’

Another gracious smile has stitched itself upon Julian’s lips. The new doctor is shaking the hand Linette’s cousin proffers.

‘Thank you.’

‘Of course.’ Julian dips his dark head. ‘Linette, stay. Mrs Evans, if you will?’

The old woman conceals it well, but Linette sees plain the anguish in Enaid’s eyes, understands all too well the cause of it. She wants to reach out and squeeze her hand to comfort her but Linette knows that here, now, she cannot.

‘This way,’ Enaid says in a voice so quiet it is bare above a whisper. The new doctor looks between the two women, marking it seems their mutual unease, but without a word he makes toward the door and Linette steps aside to allow him room to pass. At the threshold hers and Dr Talbot’s eyes meet; she senses him take her measure, feels the familiar knot of indignation tighten her stomach.

What, exactly, has Julian told him?

Enaid pulls the door shut behind them. The fire cracks, licks the grate with a violent spitting flame. Sensing her discomfort Merlin presses against her leg and she lowers her hand for him to lick.