Into Temptation (Spoils of Time 03) (76 page)

‘Good. I just wanted to thank you, Bunny. For everything.’

‘Me? What have I done?’

‘Oh, Bunny.’ She smiled at him rather feebly. ‘A lot. Put up with me, for a start.’

‘Not a lot to put up with. I can truthfully say it’s been a pleasure.’

‘I doubt that.’ She smiled again, tried to take his hand, failed. ‘Sorry. Bit sleepy. Is – is Jenna here?’

‘Yes. She’s with Venetia.’

‘Did you – give her—’

‘Yes, I did. Everything’s under control. She’ll be along in the morning when you’re awake.’

She nodded, drifted off; then roused herself again with an immense effort.

‘I am awake.’

‘Yes, of course you are, my dear.’

Her eyes closed again, for quite a long time; then: ‘Sebastian?’ she said.

‘He’s outside. Shall I get him?’

‘Would you mind?’

He was relieved by the prospect of escape, of some kind of action.

‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘Stay there, don’t run away.’

‘Try not to.’

The nurse was very resistant to Sebastian’s being allowed in.

‘I’ve been told only next of kin,’ she said.

Lord Arden looked at her rather sadly.

‘I do assure you, my dear young lady, that gentleman is closer to her than any kin in the world. You let him in, there’s a good girl. Do her far more good than I can. Don’t worry, I’ll sort Matron out if there’s any trouble.’

Very doubtfully, the nurse allowed Sebastian in.

She was propped up quite high in the bed; she opened her eyes and smiled at him. ‘Oh, Sebastian.’

‘Oh, Celia.’ He picked up her hand and kissed it.

‘You all right?’ she said.

‘I’m fine. How about you?’

‘All right. I love you, Sebastian.’

‘I love you too, Celia.’

‘I just wanted to tell you.’ The voice was slightly slurred, but the dark eyes on his were brilliant just the same.

‘I’m glad you did.’

‘I’ve been very lucky,’ she said, ‘haven’t I?’

‘Yes, I think you have.’

‘Lovely about Clemmie. The baby.’

‘Lovely.’

‘Everything I wanted, really. Except for Lyttons.’

‘Ah.’

‘She should have given it back, Sebastian. She really should.’

‘I know, my darling.’

‘It should be ours. It should.’ She was quite agitated; he reached out and stroked her cheek.

‘I know it should. And – maybe she planned to give it back, she wasn’t expecting – well what happened.’

‘I know. Oh dear. So sad.’ Two tears rolled down her cheeks. He looked at the skin; it was very fine, almost papery, etched with dozens of tiny lines. It was a long time since he had seen her without make-up. He reached out, gently wiped the tears away.

‘Oh, my darling. Don’t cry.’

‘Sorry.’ Another silence, then, ‘So sad,’ she said again.

Sebastian sat there, looking at her, as she slept. After a while, the nurse told him he must leave.

Jenna opened the box very slowly and cautiously. Her hands, she noticed, were shaking slightly. She felt almost afraid: of how she would feel, at this last, late link with her mother. It was so very personal, jewellery, it belonged so absolutely to its owner, as intimate a part of her as perfume.

It was only a small box: she had seen her mother pack it a dozen times. It had a tray, divided into small sections, for rings and earrings, and a bigger one for necklaces and bracelets.

There wasn’t much in it; a silver bracelet that Barty had always loved, which Giles had given her when she was very young; her best watch, which Jenna had always thought was made of diamonds when she was a little girl, but was actually that odd thing called paste; a pair of gold bangles that Barty had told her were from her father. She was pleased to see those, she had wondered occasionally where they were. And, most wonderfully, a ring which Jenna knew had been her grandmother’s and which her father had had sized for her mother. It was a flower of jewels, an aquamarine set in diamonds.

‘Jonathan Elliott, your grandfather, gave it to Jeanette, he said the aquamarine exactly matched the colour of her eyes. As it does yours, Jenna. You have those same extraordinary eyes,’ her mother had told her.

Laurence had given it to Barty the day he went away to France. The last time he saw her. Jenna wondered why she had left that behind; she loved it, wore it almost all the time. She must really have left in a great hurry. Jenna slipped it on her finger; it fitted perfectly. She smiled at it; it brought her mother somehow close. She would wear it always, from now on.

That was all: she was about to close the box, when she realised there was a leather base, removable by way of a narrow piece of ribbon.

Jenna pulled at the ribbon, eased the base up: and saw two envelopes inside.

‘Keir, is that you?’

‘What?’ His voice was slurred, stupid with sleep. ‘Yes, who is it, is it the hospital?’

‘No. It’s me, Jenna. I’m so sorry to wake you. But I have to speak to Elspeth.’

‘Why, is Celia worse?’

‘No. That is – I don’t know. Please get her, Keir. Please.’

There was a pause; she heard a door shut, then open again, heard Elspeth’s voice, wide awake, frightened.

‘Jenna, it’s me. What is it?’

‘Can you come round? To Venetia’s?’

‘What, now?’

‘Yes. Please, Elspeth, it’s really important. I’d come to you if I could, but there’s no one to bring me.’

‘Of course I’ll come. But why?’

‘I’ve got a letter for you.’

‘A letter! Who from?’

There was a pause; then Jenna said, clearly speaking with difficulty, ‘From my mother.’

‘Think I’ll push off,’ said Lord Arden, ‘just for an hour or two. Jolly tired.’

‘Good idea,’ said Sebastian. ‘I’ll stay, anyway. Just in case.’

‘You don’t think I should—’

‘No. Not at all. They say she’s out of danger, she’s sleeping quite soundly, at least that was my last report from that dragon of a sister. Good time to go, I’d say.’

‘Glad you think so. Right-oh, then. Give her my love if you see her before I do. Tell her I won’t be long.’

‘Of course,’ said Sebastian. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s perfectly all right to go. See you in a few hours.’

‘Yes. Thank you, Brooke. Jolly good of you.’

He walked out slowly, pulling on his jacket. He looked exhausted.

In her room, Celia stirred. She didn’t feel very well. Well of course she wouldn’t. She’d had major surgery and she’d got cancer. Of course she wouldn’t feel – well. But she didn’t feel as well as she had an hour ago, or whenever it was Sebastian had been with her. It was hard to define, exactly how she felt. A bit of a headache. A bit – sick. And shaky. Literally. And dizzy. Odd to be feeling dizzy, lying down. She debated ringing for the nurse and then decided against it. She would only start fussing and checking everything and moving her about. Which hurt. She just wanted to lie still. Quite still. Maybe if she went back to sleep she’d feel better again when she woke up.

‘Shall we go now?’ said Elspeth.

‘What, to the hospital?’

‘Yes.’

Jenna debated this in silence for a moment. She was terrified of Venetia or Boy waking up, taking over this momentous piece of news, saying they must do this, that or the other. When it was theirs, their excitement, their gift for Celia. She still couldn’t quite believe it. Neither could Elspeth. They were sitting on her bed, taking it in turns to read the letter, over and over again. Izzie was there too, roused from her bed to hear about it, to see the letter, read the document for herself.

‘It’s like a midnight feast,’ Jenna whispered, and in spite of everything, probably because of everything, the heightened emotion, the seriousness of it all, they suddenly got the giggles.

Jenna had been waiting on the doorstep when Elspeth arrived in her little car, put her finger on her lips, ushered her upstairs into her room. She watched Elspeth open the letter, saw her skin change from being pale to a dark flush of excitement, and then grow pale again, watched her read it, over and over again, said, ‘Should we look at the other bit, do you think?’ Elspeth hesitated for a moment and then said, ‘Yes, I think we should. The letter’s for me, but the envelope isn’t addressed to anyone, just says what it is.’

They had looked at it, awestruck, and then Jenna had looked at Elspeth and said, ‘My God. All for you.’

‘Not all,’ said Elspeth, ‘just whoever’s still there. Which is everyone, isn’t it?’ And then, taking her cue from Jenna, said, ‘Oh my God. Oh Jenna. Oh my God.’

That was when they woke Izzie.

‘Yes,’ said Jenna, finally, ‘we should go. Definitely. Even if they won’t let us see her now, we’ll be there, the minute they do. Come on, Izzie, let’s get dressed.’

‘Am I coming too?’ asked Izzie.

‘Of course you are,’ said Jenna, ‘you’re family, aren’t you?’

They reached the hospital at two; it was extremely dark and quietlooking. Elspeth’s courage began to fail her, but Jenna took over, ran up the steps, pressed the night bell, and when no one came, pressed it again. A night porter came to the door.

‘What do you want?’

‘We want to come in,’ said Jenna. ‘We have a relative who’s a patient here and we have some absolutely crucial news for her. Please let us in.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, and even in his indignation he was obviously mildly amused, ‘but we don’t allow visitors this time of night. You’ll have to leave and come back in the morning.’

Jenna looked up at him: and her voice was suddenly lower and more authoritative, her expression autocratic.

‘Well, I’m sorry too,’ she said, ‘but this is a legal matter. If you wish, I can show you the documents. It’s of the utmost importance that we see Lady Arden at once. I wouldn’t like to answer for the consequences if we don’t. Now, do please let us in.’

The porter hesitated; he was not used to being ordered about by young girls. But this one was certainly different from most. Finally, he opened the door and let them into the hall.

‘Wait there,’ he said, ‘I’ll see if I can find a night sister.’

Sebastian had been asleep; he woke with a start, an appalling pain in his left shoulder. He sat up, rubbed it hard, stood up, and stretched slowly and carefully. His right leg had gone to sleep as well. God, he felt awful. He’d give a lot to go home, be in his own bed. But – he couldn’t go. Couldn’t leave her. Not yet. She might need him.

He decided to go for a walk. The leg was beginning to come back to life, with appalling pins and needles; his head ached too, quite badly. Maybe he could go out just for a moment, find somewhere, a hotel possibly, where he could get a cup of coffee. He walked down the corridor, looked in through the doorway, to where Celia lay; she appeared to be asleep. The nurse in the ante-room put her finger on her lips.

It would be all right, then; just for half an hour.

She felt worse; very, very faint. And a sick whirling dizziness, she felt as if she was going to fall off the bed. There was a strange feeling in her ears and an odd sound; and a pressure in them. It was all a bit – frightening, really. She was rather breathless too. Almost reluctantly, she pressed the bell.

‘Good God,’ Sebastian looked at them all, standing in the hall. ‘What on earth are you lot doing here?’

‘Sebastian! Oh, thank God. We have to see Celia, at once.’

‘Well you can’t, she’s asleep.’

‘Is she still all right?’

‘Well – ’ his voice was cautious, he couldn’t have them thinking Celia was going to recover completely, go home, be herself again. ‘She’s recovering from the operation. She’s a little better. At the moment, anyway. But – why do you want to see her?’

‘Look,’ Elspeth held out the letter. ‘If anything’s going to make her better, it’s this.’

He read it: sat down on a chair in the hall, pushed his hand through his hair, read it again; and then smiled at them, a glorious, happy smile.

‘She has to be told,’ he said, ‘she has to be told the moment she wakes up.’

‘Can we come and see her?’

‘Well, you can come up to the waiting room. They won’t let you in if she’s asleep. But – we can wait together. Or do you want to go home?’

They looked at him in horror.

‘Go home! Of course we’re not going home,’ said Jenna. ‘We wouldn’t dream of it.’

Sebastian’s expression, as he looked at her, was very sweet and contemplative. Then he said, ‘She was a very special person, your mother.’

‘I know it,’ said Jenna.

‘How do you feel now, Lady Arden?’

‘Not very well.’ She could hear her own voice, less clear. If only the dizziness would ease; it was very, very bad. And she felt a bit breathless and still very faint.

The nurse took her temperature; it was within the normal range, given that she’d had surgery. Major surgery. She took her pulse; it was a little faint, a little slow, rather than fast. But again, she was an old lady, she’d been through a lot that day. She patted Celia’s hand, said she would sit by her bed for a bit.

‘If you don’t feel better in a while, I’ll get Sister. Or a doctor.’

Celia closed her eyes; she felt horribly in danger of falling off the bed.

The nurse was just going to fetch Sister, walking rather fast; she had taken Lady Arden’s blood pressure and it seemed to be very low. She didn’t look too good either; she was a dreadful colour and appeared confused.

‘Ah, Nurse. How is Lady Arden?’ It was the man: the other one, not her husband. He looked familiar but she couldn’t think why.

‘She’s – she’s fine. But her blood pressure is a little low. I’m going to fetch Sister.’

‘Can I go in and see her? Please.’

‘Absolutely not. No. I’m sorry. Please. Wait in the waiting room.’

A crawling fear invaded Sebastian; some deep sense told him this was not good.

He went back to the waiting room, tried to smile at the girls.

‘She’s just having a few checks done.’

They nodded; only Izzie, who knew him best, recognised his anxiety. She sat down next to him, slipped her hand into his.