Agnes Or The Art 0f Friendship Read online

  “Oh, you must be the doctor!” she exclaimed idiotically, having no idea what his name was.

  “Yes; Dr Cooper. Miss Newbolt sent me word that I should call here. Who is it who wishes to consult me?”

  “It is Sir John Armitage, Dr Cooper. He has recently been brought back to England from Africa, where he was fighting. I understand he was wounded and, subsequent to that, contracted dengue fever. He looks exceedingly unwell and we – his mother and I – would be most grateful if you would take a look at him.”

  “Good Lord! Yes, I had better. Where is he – upstairs?”

  They stood now in the tiny hall and the stairs rose before them only a couple of yards away.

  “Yes; you will find him in the bedroom to the right at the top of the stairs; I believe Lady Armitage is with him.”

  “Thank you; I will go up at once. You are?”

  “Miss Helman, Lady Armitage’s companion.”

  “Ah! I daresay her ladyship may need something to calm her nerves if her son is unwell. Were you about to go out, Miss Helman?”

  “Only for a walk. I will wait in the saloon if you think you might need to have a word with me when you have examined Sir John.”

  The doctor looking gratified by this offer, Agnes returned to the saloon but not to her sketch. She walked over to the window and looked out upon the road where she could see the doctor’s groom walking his horse up and down.

  It was not much above fifteen minutes later when Lady Armitage came into the room.

  “I have left Dr Cooper with John,” she explained. “He made it clear he would rather speak to my son on his own – without his mother fussing around.”

  “I expect there are things he wishes to ask him which he is afraid you might find distressing,” Agnes said.

  “Oh, how awful this is!” Lady Armitage exclaimed. “Where is Paul, do you think? He was not up there.”

  “I daresay he has gone back outside. Would you like me to fetch him?”

  “Yes, yes, I think that would be helpful. I asked John what he had arranged when I first went up there – before the doctor arrived – but he told me I should not trouble my head about it. How can I not? And we cannot leave Paul to engage a valet, can we?”

  “Not to engage him, no, I should not think so, but I suppose he can be trusted to find a few candidates and then I should imagine it will be up to Sir John to choose one.”

  “But I will have to pay him!” Lady Armitage exclaimed with a great sense of ill-usage.

  “Sir John must have some money of his own – he will have earned some as a soldier.”

  “I suppose so, but it will have been a paltry amount.”

  “Possibly, but – forgive me, my lady - there must be some money coming in from the estate, is there not? Will that be paid into Sir John’s account?”

  “Yes, I should think so; certainly it is not paid to me.”

  “Perhaps we should leave Sir John to attend to his own affairs,” Agnes suggested tentatively.

  “He has already proved himself to be incapable of managing properly. He bled us dry!” her ladyship exclaimed, flushing angrily.

  “He may have learned his lesson now. After all, I presume he was not gambling in Africa.”

  “He may well have been, in which case the estate will be even more heavily mortgaged. I am persuaded that he will be quite unable to give it up now.”

  “You must not despair, my lady. He cannot, in any event, be playing when he is lying in his bed,” Agnes pointed out.

  There was a hesitant knock upon the door heralding the arrival of the doctor, who had come to report on the patient’s condition.

  Agnes rose, intending to leave her employer to speak privately to the medical man, but Lady Armitage waved her back to her seat.

  “I have no secrets from Miss Helman. How did you find him, doctor?”

  “He is exceedingly weak; his muscles have wasted almost to nothing due to his inactivity but I can find nothing organically amiss with him. His wound, although healed, is tender to the touch but, at least at present, he shows no sign of any fever. He is still young and it is my belief that with good food and fresh air he can recover his strength.”

  “How are we to give him fresh air when he cannot walk?” Lady Armitage asked.

  “I understand you have a groom, my lady; he will be able to carry Sir John downstairs and put him in a chair in the garden on a fine day – and carry him back upstairs later. Once he has been eating well for a period he will be able to walk by himself. I have told him to stretch and given him some simple exercises to improve his muscles.”

  “What can he eat?”

  “I understand you gave him a mixture of arrowroot and water just before I arrived. He had emptied the bowl although he complained that he disliked it. I think you could begin to give him proper food: beef, milk and vegetables will all do him good, as will a glass or two of red wine. He is an invalid at present but that is at least partly on account of having lain in the hold of a ship for some months with only very inadequate nourishment.”

  “I see. Where is his wound?”

  “It is in his side, between his ribs on the left. It was caused by a sword or machete – or something of that nature – and went deep. Fortunately it did not pierce any vital organs so it should not have any lasting effects.”

  “Did he mention engaging a valet?”

  “Yes, and I promised that, when I visit Tunbridge Wells in the next few days, I will call at a suitable agency and ask them to send over a few likely candidates. He seemed determined that your groom, who had lifted him earlier, should not be obliged to make a practice of it since he is quite old and not in the best of health himself.”

  “Thank you – that is exceedingly kind,” Lady Armitage said on a sigh of relief.

  “Not at all, no trouble at all,” the doctor replied, looking embarrassed. “We must all do what we can for our wounded soldiers, my lady.”

  “Yes, yes, indeed,” she agreed, clearly surprised that the doctor should judge her son the sort of person who deserved his country’s gratitude.

  Agnes, watching this little scene with some amusement, reflected that, if Sir John had been fighting a few years earlier in the Napoleonic Wars, even his mother would surely have considered him deserving of admiration and respect but, because he had been engaged in what she no doubt considered a pointless skirmish at the other end of the world, her regard for him had in no whit increased.

  “Meanwhile, he could take a bath.”

  “Yes, but how can he take a bath when there is no one to lift him into or out of it?”

  “No, no, I had overlooked that for a moment,” the doctor conceded, beginning to fidget and clearly wishing to be on his way. “But I daresay he would appreciate being provided with a bowl of hot water and some soap.”

  When the doctor left, Lady Armitage sighed heavily and rang the bell, telling Jess, when she answered it, that she had better see to providing Sir John with the wherewithal to wash – and perhaps give him some help in the matter.

  Jess, who was not much more than fourteen – and therefore cheap to employ – looked horrified at this suggestion. She had not, when engaged, been informed that looking after a man’s personal needs would form part of her duties.

  “She and I can do it together,” Agnes said.

  “You? What do you know of such things?” Lady Armitage asked, shocked.

  “More than you might suppose, my lady. My father was exceedingly ill for a long time before he died and I was the one who saw to washing him and changing his clothes. Between us, I am sure Jess and I can manage.”

  Chapter 11

  Jess set a pot of water to boil and she and Agnes went upstairs together.

  Bidden to come in, they advanced towards the man in the bed but were unaware of the grimness of their expressions until he said, “You look as though you are approaching the scaffold. What have you come to tell me? Must I vacate this room too?”

  “No, of course not,”
Agnes replied. “The doctor thought that you might wish to wash and that you would likely need help until you are a little stronger; that is what we have come to do.”

  “I hardly think it needs two of you or have you come to support each other? Indeed, since I am by no means unaware of my disgusting condition, I think it would be best if you simply provided the water and the soap and left me to do the best I can myself.”

  “Dr Cooper doubted that you had the strength just at present,” Agnes explained in a soothing voice. “He also recommended a bath,” she added as though the threat of such a drastic measure might reconcile the patient to the less brutal version provided by a bowl and sponge.

  “Yes, he told me that too – and I don’t doubt it would be an excellent notion - but I do not see how I can until I have a man to help me. You two, well-meaning as you are, are obviously not capable of getting me into it – although I suppose that if you placed it beside the bed I could roll down – but, even if we were to adopt that method, I do not see how I could get out just at present and, while it would certainly be more comfortable to be clean – and no doubt infinitely more pleasant for you when you bring me a glass of water - I cannot see that it would do me much good to remain in a rapidly cooling bath until I am strong enough to climb out by myself.”

  “I wondered whether you would consider asking Paul to help once more. It may, after all, be some days before you manage to employ a valet.”

  “I am sure he would be perfectly willing,” Sir John said. “He seems to be the one person in the world who is pleased I am not dead but I do not like to ask it of him. He is an old man and not strong. It would be no good if we were both to fall in and be unable to get out.”

  “No, indeed. The other alternative is that I could go up to the big house and ask my friend if we could borrow a couple of their manservants for the purpose. She was eager to offer any assistance she could.”

  “Really? You surprise me. I suppose she offered it as a favour to you for I doubt whether a woman who turned me down would wish to help. I am persuaded she has a very low opinion of me.”

  “She does,” Agnes agreed, not mincing matters for, while she was perfectly prepared to help him with his illness in any way she could, she had no particular desire to spare his feelings. “But she is an excessively kind person and would not, I am convinced, allow her personal dislike of a man to interfere with a charitable impulse.”

  “I cannot tell you how it chafes to be described as a man in need of charity and I own I am exceedingly loath to ask either her or her parents for assistance but, since doing so can only injure my pride - whereas relying upon Paul may injure him - I believe you had better do so.”

  Agnes nodded and said, “I will go this afternoon but in the meantime we will employ the bowl. Jess, pray fetch the hot water, soap and a sponge.”

  Jess bobbed a little curtsey and retreated.

  “You are going to help?” Sir John asked, raising an eyebrow, seemingly as surprised and disapproving as his mother.

  “Yes; why not?”

  “Cannot the maid do it?”

  “Yes, but she is very young and has no experience of such things. We will do it together the first time so that she will know how to go about it in future. Have you any objection?”

  “Yes, a great many, not least that you too are very young and have surely not been employed by my mother as a nurse.”

  “I have some experience of tending to sick men though,” Agnes said, explaining her credentials much as she had to his mother scarcely five minutes earlier. “I nursed my father for some months before he died.”

  “Oh, that is all right then. I suppose one of his parishioners pierced his side with a sword, after which he contracted a disagreeable tropical disease.”

  “How very biblical you make it sound. Is that how you were injured?”

  “Yes; it was a horrible great thing with a curved blade; I’m surprised he didn’t carve out a chunk of flesh at the same time; indeed, I rather think he did, which is why it is still painful.”

  “The doctor assured us that it did not damage any vital organs.”

  “No; I suppose I can do without a pound or two of flesh. It missed my heart by a matter of less than an inch, I understand – and somehow avoided my lung as well. The sawbones out there sewed it up but I suspect he didn’t clean it very well because it became exceedingly unpleasant for a time. It was after that that I contracted the fever – while I was still in the hospital. Several of us came down with it and about half died as a consequence. I can only suppose that the Almighty has other plans for me for there have been any number of opportunities for him to cut my life short; perhaps he doesn’t want me in Heaven any more than my mother wants me in her house,” he added bitterly.

  “If he doesn’t want you in Heaven, I suppose he could send you to the other place,” Agnes pointed out.

  Sir John gave a bark of laughter at this and replied, “He has. The journey home was a taste of hell and my mother’s reception of me a further embellishment. You, though, do not fit into the pattern for you are, I am convinced, a species of angel. Did you learn your celestial skills at your reverend father’s knee?”

  “He was always kind and would never have turned anyone from his door so, yes, perhaps in a sense; but I am not by any means an angel; it is, I think, that I am determined not to give way to prejudice. Never having met you before and not having myself been upset by your conduct in the past, I am in no position to judge you. Your mama, who is still prostrated as a result of your father’s sudden death, was almost felled by the news of what happened to you; recollect that she received the letter informing her of your illness and imminent return only a few hours before you actually arrived.”

  “Do you think I should hope that she will come round then?” he asked with a cynical twist to his lips.

  “Yes; I am certain she holds you in strong affection.”

  Sir John had no time for more than a disbelieving harrumph before Jess came into the room with the washing equipment.

  Agnes directed her to place the bowl upon the table beside the bed and invited Sir John to lie still.

  But he waved her away, saying, “I am lying still; I am, sadly, incapable of doing much else, but I will not submit to a female who is not a member of my family washing me. Go away, both of you!”

  Agnes ignored him and submerged the sponge in the water, lifting it out and squeezing it until it was almost dry. “We do not want to make the bed wet,” she explained, ignoring the patient and addressing Jess. She rubbed the soap on to the sponge and approached the invalid in a manner so forceful that she could not help thinking she was beginning to behave like Louisa.

  Jess stood just behind, holding a towel.

  “You had better put that underneath him in order to keep the sheets dry,” Agnes said, stepping back to allow the maid to come closer.

  But the patient, at this evidence of intent on the part of the women, lifted his hand and took hold of Agnes’s wrist, bending the hand holding the sponge away from him. His grip was surprisingly strong and Agnes looked down at the long fingers which encircled her wrist with some trepidation.

  “Pray let me go,” she said quite sharply.

  “I will do so when you promise not to persist with this ludicrous action. I see that you object to my laying hold of you; well, I object to your threatening to do something to me which I do not want and have already forbidden. Leave the bowl and all the rest and put another pillow under my shoulders and I will do my best by myself. But I will not, most definitely not, permit you to touch me with that sponge. Do you understand?”

  She met his eyes and saw that, not only did he mean it but, in spite of his weakness, he would fight her off if she persisted.

  She nodded and said to Jess, “Would you fetch an additional pillow, please? You can take one off my bed.”

  Jess scuttled out of the room and the Baronet removed his fingers from Agnes’s wrist.

  She looked at it closely as if
determined to find a bruise already forming and returned the sponge to the bowl.

  “Have I hurt you?” he asked, disbelieving. “I apologise. I thought I was weaker than perhaps I am.”

  “No,” she admitted. “I wanted to make you think that you might have done.”

  “Hah!” he exclaimed. “Are you, by such an admission, conceding that, on this occasion at least, I have worsted you?”

  “I only wished to help,” she pointed out in a deceptively humble tone.

  “Yes, I think you did, at first, but then, when you did not get your own way, you determined to persist. I own you did not strike me as a woman so bent on winning that she would make a competition out of such a thing. I misjudged you.”

  “Indeed you did,” she agreed cordially. “You called me an angel but I imagine you have revised that opinion now.”

  “On the contrary: I imagine angels can be alarmingly firm when barring the gates of Heaven to sinners.”

  “I suppose they are only carrying out instructions from a higher authority,” she said thoughtfully. “I believed that was what I was doing.”

  “Which authority? Him in Heaven or the doctor?”

  “Dr Cooper.”

  “Well, I don’t think he knows what he’s talking about; out here in the country I shouldn’t think he’s had much experience of machete wounds or dengue fever, so I think you’re quite safe to ignore his instructions. In any event, I think mine trump his.”

  “If you say so, sir.”

  She took the pillow from Jess and, telling the girl to lift the patient, pushed it under his shoulders.

  “There; is that better?”

  “Yes, thank you. Now go away, both of you, and come back in a quarter of an hour for the bowl and sponge. If I fall out of bed, rest assured I will shout and you are bound to hear me in such a small house.”

  “Very well; I will bring you some more water when I return,” she said, picked up the empty glass and went to the door.

  Chapter 12

  Louisa was sitting in the garden with a book in her hands when her friend was announced.