Stormspell (8 page)

'He feeling more himself.' she declared, setting a rack of toast on the table. 'He even get up to go to the bathroom. Doctor Francis going to be real pleased with him.'

Ruth looked down at her plate, propping her head on one hand. 'You've been a great help,' she conceded flatly. 'I'm sure Daddy much appreciates it.'

'I think so.' Celeste was complacent. 'I think he trust me to know what's what. He ain't even seen Mr Howard for himself yet today, so I knows he don't worry none.'

Ruth looked up at this. 'What do you mean? He hasn't seen Mr Howard for himself? Where is Daddy?'

'He ain't up yet.' retorted Celeste, pouring her coffee. 'You sure you don't want no eggs?'

Ruth pushed back her chair. The night before she had insisted her father returned to his bed. and once again she had slept on the couch. But it was unusual for him not to be up. particularly in the circumstances. and her mouth was dry as she left a startled Celeste and hurried along the hall to his room.

To her relief, her father's eyes were open, but the strain of the last two days had left its mark upon him. He looked drawn and grey, and when he would have struggled up in the bed. she urged him down again.

'You look tired.' she said, and it was an understatement. 'I think you should stay where you are this morning. Celeste and I can manage.'

Professor Jason shook his head. 'Celeste,' he said, obviously finding it an effort to articulate. 'Celeste can mange. Just make sure she gives Howard his tablets. Francis will be over later today to check on his progress. I may stay in bed until he arrives.'

Ruth sighed. 'All right. Would you like some breakfast? I can easily fetch you something.'

'Perhaps some coffee.' conceded her father weakly. 'Nothing to eat. And would you pass my tablets from the table beside you?'

Ruth handed him the bottle, and watched as he shook two out on to his palm. Then she poured him a glass of water from the jug he kept covered on the table beside the bed. and raised his shoulders slightly while he swallowed them.

'Thank you. my dear.' he said, offering her a faint smile as he fell back on the pillows. 'And now I think I'll rest. If I'm asleep when you bring the coffee, just leave it beside the bed.'

Celeste looked disturbed when Ruth related the conversation to her. 'Your daddy, he overwork himself yesterday.' she declared. 'He stay in bed all day. You and me. we'll look after Mr Howard, hmm?'

Ruth looked uncertain. 'Daddy said—'

'I don't want to know what your daddy said.' retorted Celeste shortly. 'What he don't know about won't hurt him. Now you finish your breakfast, and then go and fetch me Mr Howard's tray. I got plenty to do. 'stead of running round after some fool man!'..

Ruth opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. Why not? she thought, dismissing the stirrings of her conscience. She couldn't expect Celeste to do everything, and her father shouldn't expect it either. Besides, he need never know.

None the less, it was with a sense of duplicity that she delivered her father's tray to his room, knowing that when she left there she intended going into Dominic's bedroom. However, her father was asleep, as she had expected, and it was easier to be defiant when she wasn't observed.

It was a little unnerving opening Dominic's bedroom door. Somehow she never quite knew what she might find on the other side, and her breath eased out more evenly when she found him propped against the pillows. The plate of eggs Celeste had provided lay scarcely touched beside him. but some orange juice and coffee had been drunk, and some toast had also disappeared from the tray.

'Hi,' he greeted her in some surprise as she came into the room. 'I wondered where you'd got to. Don't you care about your patient now he's on the mend?'

Ruth's cheeks were pink as she surveyed his teasing face, so much less haggard now than on the previous day. Two days' growth of beard had left a stubbly bristle on his chin, but in spite of this dishevelment. he was still a distractingly attractive man. After her own introspection, she was doubly aware of him in a way she had not been before, and the memory of their last encounter coloured her reactions towards him.

'How—how are you?' she ventured, approaching the bed with caution. 'You've been very sick. We've all been very worried about you.'

'Have you?' His lips twisted. 'And I thought you'd abandoned me.'

'Oh. no.' Ruth linked her fingers together. 'It was just—what with Doctor Francis being here, and—and Daddy--'

'You decided to keep out of the way. Having done your bit, you wanted no part of the blood-letting!'

'It wasn't like that.' Ruth moved her shoulders unhappily. 'Anyway. I'm glad you're feeling better.'

'Oh, yes, much better.' He inclined his head, running probing fingers over the bandages that covered the lower part of his arm. 'Thanks to you. I hear that you saved my life.'

Ruth caught her breath. 'I—hardly—'

'That's not what I heard. That doctor—Francis— he said that if you hadn't alerted your father—'

Ruth shook her head. 'You'd probably have come round and summoned help.'

'I don't think so.' He ran an exploratory hand over his bare chest, and she averted her eyes from the curiously disturbing gesture. 'I don't remember much at all of what happened that night.' He frowned. 'How did you know I was out of bed?'

'Didn't Daddy tell you?' Ruth reached for the tray and endeavoured to appear busy, gathering the plates together, and checking the contents of the coffee pot. 'You—you called out. You must have been delirious.'

'And you heard me?' he asked, leaning forward, so that the sheet that was covering him slipped lower to display an absence of any pyjama trousers. His long-fingers curved gently round her arm, just above her wrist. 'Thanks.'

Ruth could hardly breathe. She couldn't swallow, and her lungs felt constricted. His face was so close to hers, she could have touched it by turning her head, and the scent of his warm flesh was disruptive.

'I—it was nothing.' she articulated chokily, but he didn't let her go, and short of making a silly scene she was obliged to humour him.

'I don't agree.' he averred, smoothing his thumb against the inner veins of her wrist, and she found the action aroused almost as much emotion as his words of two nights before. 'I think I owe you a lot. Much more than I can ever repay.'

Ruth's knees shook. 'Re—really, it's not necessary for you to—to feel this way.' she stammered, alarmed at the sensation of weakness he was evoking. She wanted desperately to turn her head and look at him. and she guessed if she did so. he wouldn't draw away. But she was too afraid. It was obvious he didn't remember what had happened two nights ago. and she was too timid to promote the same kind of intimacy.

The situation was rapidly becoming untenable, and with a shrug of his broad shoulders he released her to lounge back against the pillows once again. The action drew the sheet back into place, and the lean suppleness of his hips was again concealed from her. Ruth released the breath she had been holding and gathered up the tray, praying her trembling hands would not betray her. The cutlery rattled a little as she hurried towards the door, but it didn't disgrace her. and she was almost through the aperture when he spoke to her again.

'Do you think I could borrow a razor?' he enquired. rubbing a hand over the stubble on his chin. 'I'd like to make myself look more human, but as you know. I didn't bring any luggage."

'Oh. I—I'm sure my father has a razor you could borrow,' she murmured, glancing apprehensively along the hall, as if afraid Professor Jason might overhear her. 'I—I'll get Celeste to bring it to you,' she added, reaching for the handle of the door, but once again he arrested her.

'I'd rather you brought it,' he said, his voice soft, and curiously gentle. 'Not that I have anything against Celeste, you understand me? She's been of great assistance. I know.' He grinned ruefully, running significant hands down the outline of his legs. 'Believe me. I know.' He shrugged. 'I just find you better to look at.' he explained, and Ruth nodded her head vigorously as she hastily closed the door.

In the hall, she composed herself before walking its length to the kitchen. She had never known anyone who could disconcert her so easily, and his provoking words left her feeling both shaken and excited. It was not exactly what he said, she realised, but the way that he said it, and her heart still pounded from the recollection of his thumb upon her wrist. She didn't understand why so simple an action should arouse so urgent a response, but it did inspire the speculation of how it might feel to have Dominic caress the more intimate parts of her anatomy—like her shoulders perhaps, or her waist, or maybe—and she blushed at the thought—her breasts.

She thought Celeste looked at her rather searchingly-when she went into the kitchen with the tray. She guessed the other woman had noticed the heated colour in her cheeks, which she had been unable to disguise, unaware of that fact that there were other indications of her agitation. Her eyes were sparkling, but she didn't know that, and her lips were parted in eager anticipation. Celeste's wide mouth curved a little knowingly as she took in this evidence of her young charge's excitement, and she rested her hands on her broad hips as she commented:

'You been talking with Mr Howard? What he been saying to you? Why you looking like the cat that been at the cream?'

Ruth put down the tray on the table and thrust her trembling hands behind her back. 'I don't know what you mean.' she protested, trapping them in the folds of her skirt. 'I just collected the tray, like you asked me. What's wrong with that?'

Celeste moved her shoulders indolently. 'Seems like you been a little longer than it take to collect a tray.' she declared dryly. 'Come on. you can tell Celeste. She won't go blabbing to your daddy.'

There's nothing to tell.' Ruth retorted firmly. 'He —I—he wants a razor. Do you think Daddy would mind if I lent him his?'

Celeste grimaced. 'Who knows? You going to ask him?'

Ruth shook her head. 'He's sleeping—Daddy. I mean. I suppose I could just—lend Mr Howard the razor, couldn't I? Daddy need never know.'

'And I suppose your daddy's going to think he just chewed that there hair off his face, is he?' Celeste suggested caustically, bringing a furrow to Ruth's brow.

'I never thought of that.' she confessed, tugging at a strand of night-dark silk, and Celeste sighed.

'Tell you what.' she said. 'I guess you could borrow a razor I got lying there in the cabin.' She made a resigned gesture, i don't know where it come from. I only know it there, doing nothing.'

'Oh. thank you. Celeste!' Ruth could have hugged her. Then she hesitated. 'Will—will you get it and give it to him?'

'Why can't you do that?'

'I—I've got some work to do for Daddy.' Ruth explained evasively, avoiding Celeste's eyes. 'You

don't mind, surely?'

Celeste shrugged. 'Seems to me there's more to this than meets the eye. but I'll do it. I'll give him the razor. Shave him, too, if'n he wants it.' She allowed her words to sink in. then added deliberately: 'Ain't a lot I'd refuse to do for Mr Howard, no. sir. And I've done most everything else, 'cept'n getting into bed with him.'

Her words had the desired effect, but Ruth couldn't help the bloom of colour that covered her body from head to toe. 'What—what you choose to do is your own affair. Celeste.' she declared, deliberately slowing her steps as they would have hastened her towards the door. 'I'll be in the study, if Daddy wants me. See you later."

Professor Jason insisted on getting up for supper, and Ruth faced him across the dining table with some misgivings. She was beginning to realise there was more to deceiving someone than simply doing something without their cognisance. She had to beware in so many other ways, not least in confining her knowledge of their visitor to things Celeste could have told her.

Doctor Francis had paid a fleeting visit that afternoon, but although Ruth was disappointed, he refused to stay and eat with them. 'I promised Mary I'd take her out to dinner this evening,' he said, touching her cheek with a regretful finger, 'and besides. I doubt your father would welcome my company.'

'Don't be silly.' Ruth spoke ruefully. 'You know what Daddy's like. He'll have forgotten all about your differences by now. and I know he enjoys your conversation.'

'Well, maybe.' Doctor Francis acknowledged, nodding his head. 'But I really can't stay this evening. I've spent so much time working lately, and Mary deserves a break.'

'Couldn't you bring her to supper one evening?' Ruth offered impulsively, even though her father had never made such a suggestion, but the doctor only smiled.

'Have you given any thought to what I said yesterday?' he countered, reminding her of his invitation, and she sighed.

'There really hasn't been time.' she demurred, moving her shoulders. 'Perhaps when—when Mr Howard leaves . . .'

'Perhaps.' agreed the Scotsman, not pressing her. and went to examine his patients before she could say more.

Professor Jason helped himself to a little soup now. from the tureen Celeste had placed on the table, and regarded his daughter thoughtfully.

'Did Francis tell you our patient should be ready to leave in a day or two?' he asked, causing Ruth's fingers to tighten around her spoon. 'I for one shall be quite relieved. He's disrupted our lives far too much.'

Ruth applied herself to breaking a roll, and then, realising he expected a response, she said: 'Celeste told me his arm was no longer inflamed. But Doctor Francis said he was very weak.'

'Oh. he is.' Professor Jason's lips thinned. 'And I'm not suggesting he should leave here before he's capable of doing so. Nevertheless,' he spooned soup into his mouth, 'he's a disturbing influence on the household, and obviously he creates more work for Celeste.'

Ruth bent her head. 'I could help her—'

'No.'
Her father was adamant. 'Celeste can manage. I have no intention of encouraging you to associate with that man. Whatever Francis says, you're far too young to be involved. You're not a nurse, and it's not at all suitable that you should enter his bedroom.'