Page 5 of Lady for a Season
“This is ours,” said Agnes, opening the first one to show a plainroom with three single beds neatly lined up. There was a small wooden table with a jug and a basin for washing, and a chamber pot in the corner of the room. Two of the beds had a chest at the end, the third, closest to the door, did not.
“That’s your bed. So you can go to him easily in the night,” Agnes added.
They placed Maggie’s trunk at the foot of her bed and left the room.
“That’s Edward’s room,” said Agnes pointing at the next door. “He’ll come down when he’s called for. Anyway, you must be half starved. Shall I make you a plate an’ all?”
Maggie nodded gratefully. She wondered what was behind the third door but did not want to seem nosy.
Back downstairs, Maggie caught a glimpse of the doctor in the parlour, sitting down to a good spread, attended by Eliza, who was answering his questions about provisions and firewood supplies. Maggie followed Agnes into the kitchen, where the maid put together a plate like the one she had given the driver.
“I’ll just see how Will’s getting on,” she said, sidling towards the door, no doubt keen to make every moment count with the driver.
Maggie sat at the table and ate. The bread and ham were both good quality and she had been given a large portion. The water was fresh and cold, and there was ale, too, but she drank only a little, unused to the taste.
She had just finished eating when she heard the doctor calling her name and presented herself in the parlour. It was a good-sized room, with two armchairs and a fireplace, a shelf with a few books, a small pianoforte, a table and two wooden chairs in the corner, where the doctor was sitting, Eliza standing to one side.
“Ah Maggie,” he said. “Be so good as to fetch Edward for me. I would like to see him before I go, and I need to introduce you. He will be in his bedroom.”
Maggie made her way back up the stairs and paused outside Edward’s room before knocking.
“Come in.”
The young man seated by the window was bent over a large book. The light streaming through the window illuminated his unfashionably long shoulder-length fair wavy hair, turning it golden and bringing something ethereal to his figure. She could tell by his long legs that he was tall, but there was in his posture a desire to stay small. His shoulders were hunched, his arms close to his side, his neck bent downwards. His clothing was neat and clean but by his dress Maggie would have thought him a servant. He wore a brown woollen suit with a baggy jacket and breeches, a waistcoat in a lighter brown, thick woollen stockings and sturdy shoes, like her own. His shirt was a cream colour, but he did not wear a high collar as the governors of the Hospital had done.
“I’m Maggie, I’m to be your new… companion.”
He looked up, startled at the unfamiliar voice, then unfurled to his full height, even taller than Maggie would have guessed. His head came up last, so that Maggie could see his face. His skin was very pale, and he was overly thin for such a tall man, but his eyes, when they met Maggie’s, were a rich deep blue. They reminded her of a ring she had once seen on a visiting lady’s hand and for a moment she forgot her manners and stared.
The man bowed, a slow graceful movement, not the sharp half-dips that most men gave. “Maggie. My name is Edward.” His voice came out deeper than Maggie had expected from a man of such slight build.
She bobbed a curtsey. “Edward.” It felt odd to call him by his first name, as though he were one of the children at the Hospital in her care, but, she reminded herself, hewasto be in her care, and perhaps thinking of him as a child was best.
“Doctor Morrison is in the parlour and would like to see you.”
He blinked at the name, not quite a flinch, but there was something fearful about it, there and gone in an instant.
Maggie stepped back onto the landing and he followed her down the stairs, ducking his head under a low beam before they entered the parlour.
“Ah, Edward,” said Doctor Morrison, standing up to greet them as they entered. “You have met Maggie I see. She will be your new companion. And are you well, in yourself?”
“Yes, sir.”
The doctor looked him up and down, having to lift his chin to do so, since Edward was a head taller than him. “Yes, yes, you seem well enough, I am glad to see.”
Maggie thought it an odd assessment, for Edward was pale and too thin for his height, but perhaps he had been worse in the past; the doctor must know his business.
“Well, now,” continued the doctor. “I must make hasten to Leamington, for I have been gone more than two weeks. Edward, I will return in a month’s time for your treatments. Maggie, Eliza and Agnes can answer any questions about the household that you may have.” He came to the door, where Eliza stood waiting with his hat. “Eliza, I commend you for a good meal. Good day to you both.”
“Good day, sir,” they replied in unison.
He strode out through the front door which Eliza was holding open. Maggie caught a glimpse of Agnes hastily snatching the plate and tankard back from the driver and bobbing a curtsey to the doctor as he climbed into the carriage, as though she had only been there to fulfil her housework duties. The driver winked at her, cracked the whip and the carriage drove away.
Now that the doctor was gone Maggie felt at a loss. She was to be a companion; she was to keep Edward contented and well in himself. At the Hospital there would have been the daily routine of the children being woken, washing, eating, being taught theirlessons, attending prayers and so on. What should she do here? What sort of routine was Edward accustomed to? Perhaps she should see what the garden had to offer. The doctor had spoken of healthful exercise, after all, and walking in the garden must form a part of this. She returned to the parlour, where Edward was sitting in one of the armchairs close to the small pianoforte which sat in an alcove of the room, once again holding a book.
“Shall we walk in the garden? It is a fine day.”
He rose at once without speaking and headed out into the hall. Maggie followed, glad that he was so easily compliant with her first suggestion, but at the back door he opened it and stepped back, still holding it, and stood still. Was he refusing to go out? She looked up at him, confused, but he made a small gesture with his other hand, indicating that she should go out before him, that he was holding the door open for her.
