Читать книгу White Jade - V. J. Banis - Страница 11

CHAPTER SEVEN

A real nurse, I supposed, would know the routine that ought to be followed, but I was in ignorance. Should I go directly to Jeff’s bedroom, careful to remember that he was Mr. Linton, whom I had met just once before, for an interview? Should I wait until summoned? Or make myself at home? Would I eat with the family or with the servants?

I was on very thin ice and I knew it. My knowledge of medicine was limited to what I had learned in health courses in school and a few phrases I had picked up from my pharmacist friend, Jerry, and from a quick read at the library. If anyone knowledgeable tried to talk medicine with me they would know at once I was a fraud.

I was counting mostly on the brevity of my stay and on Mary Linton’s tendency to dispense with practical matters, and her obvious dislike for me, which would surely preclude any unnecessary conversation.

David’s presence in the house was an added complication, and he was anything but scatter-brained. I could only hope he was not medically inclined.

Mrs. Evans returned shortly to tell me, “The mistress would like to see you, in her study, if it’s convenient. Shall I wait and take you down?”

“You won’t have to wait. I’ve finished unpacking.” I felt as ready as I’d ever be to face Mary Linton.

And don’t go getting your back up, my girl, I warned myself as I followed Mrs. Evans, she is your employer, if only for a few days, and on top of that she’s a dangerous creature. A little servility and some playing dumb will see you through, if you just don’t get riled and start behaving foolishly.

I knew as soon as I came into the study that I had made my first gaffe.

“Miss Channing,” Mrs. Evans announced and quickly slid by me to disappear down the hall.

He was there as well, standing by the fireplace. His height and the width of his shoulders seemed to dominate the room and even the heavily carved mantle shrank in his presence.

Mary Linton sat in a velvet covered chair, smoking a cigarette in a long, jade holder. She looked surprised at my appearance.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“No, only...I somehow expected one of those starched white uniforms and a peaked cap.” She blew a cloud of smoke into the room.

My throat felt dry. How incredibly stupid of me. I was supposed to be a nurse, wasn’t I?

“I don’t ordinarily wear them for house jobs of this sort,” I said hastily. “It’s been my experience that everyone, especially the patient, is more at ease if I dress in normal fashion.”

“In any event,” he said from the fireplace, “you look so lovely as you are it would be a shame to bundle you up in starched white.”

I felt my face redden. It was an excessive remark, and patronizing. I was dressed rather plainly, in a pale blue shirtwaist, and I did not regard myself as “so lovely.”

“If you’d prefer that I wear a uniform,” I stammered, speaking to Mary.

She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “No, that’s of no consequence, I’m sure. Have you seen my husband yet?”

Her manner toward me was cold and aloof, more imperious than before. My instinct was to match rudeness with rudeness but I restrained myself and remained placid and servile.

“No, Ma’am, I thought I ought to wait for our interview.”

“He’s been worse since you were here—when was that?”

“Has he had a doctor?” I asked quickly.

“Of course,” she said coldly. “Doctor Mallory, from in town, has been up. He diagnosed it as the flu. I suppose you’ll want to consult with him.”

Indeed I did not. He would know in an instant I was no nurse. “I don’t think that will be necessary at present,” I said. “I know the usual procedure to follow with the flu. If it changes, of course, I’ll want to talk to him then.”

She sighed and put out the cigarette, looking quite bored. “Well, I’ve instructed the servants to cooperate with you where they can, unless there is something particularly unusual that you’ll need.” She cocked an eyebrow.

“No, except that I’d like to have charge of his food, if I may.” She looked a little surprised by that and I hastened to add, “My training put a great emphasis on the importance of diet in the recuperative process.”

“If there’s to be a special diet, we ought to get the cook in here and—”

“No, not a special diet, just whatever everyone else is having.” I was floundering and think she was beginning think the same thing. I dared not look at the tall man across the room. “That is, I’ll look over what she prepared for each meal and pick and choose for him.”

“Very well.” She hesitated a moment before saying, “I’m not versed in the etiquette for these situations. In your other positions, did you ordinarily eat with the family?” She asked this in a way that indicated she hoped I had not.

I was no more versed in the special etiquette than she was, but I had my preferences. “Sometimes I ate with the help,” I said. “But, really, I prefer to eat in my room, if that’s not too much trouble.”

“Isn’t that rather monastic?” David asked. In some odd way he seemed amused by the interview.

“Since I’ll be in the kitchen anyway, supervising Mr. Linton’s meals, I could easily prepare a tray for myself each time. If someone could bring it up for me.”

“Not necessary,” he said, in a tone of voice that said he had reached a decision and the matter was entirely settled. “My sister and I have little company at dinner and we shall welcome yours then. Of course if you prefer to have your other meals in your garret room, you may.”

“Thank you.” I thought of several remarks I would rather have made. Handsome or not, he was the most insufferably overbearing man I had ever known. It was true, I had always wished Jerry, the pharmacist, had a little more backbone, but there was such a thing as too much backbone.

Mary stood from her chair, stretching her long, sleek figure lazily, like a cat. She wore a pants suit in pale green silk. It looked elegant and costly. There was no denying, she was a stunningly beautiful woman. Even had she not been blessed with a vast fortune, I would well understand Jeff’s throwing me over as he had. The thought did nothing, however, to increase my fondness for her.

“Mrs. Evans will take you up to my husband’s room.” She touched a button that brought the housekeeper a moment later, fluttering into the room like an errant moth.

I thanked Mrs. Linton for her time and was on my way out of the room when David spoke again. “One moment, Miss Channing.” It was a command and I stopped as ordered, turning back to him.

“I’m a little under the weather myself,” he said. “I seem to have acquired a sharp pain here, over the left eye. Can you recommend something for it?”

“Aspirin,” I said evenly. “And perhaps some rest.”

“Aspirin? I should have thought by this time medical science had come up with something more in the way of pain killer.”

“I’ve no doubt they have.” I willed my heart to stop pounding. “But I have no license to prescribe medicines.”

“I see.” He nodded and I realized I had spoken too quickly. As a nurse I would know for a fact about pain killers, whether I could prescribe them or not.

“I have great faith in aspirin,” I said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a patient I should see.”

He excused me and I went out in Mrs. Evans’ wake. I felt as if I had survived an inquisition. And it would probably not be my last. For whatever reason, David Morgan had not been satisfied with our interview. That pain had come up too quickly, too gratuitously, to be anything but a test.

And I could not but feel I had failed it.