The Ragged Heiress (11 page)

Lady Boothby rose from her seat by the open window. ‘You may rest assured that Mr Froy will have everything he needs while he is under our roof, doctor.’

‘Absolutely,’ Sir John agreed. ‘Although perhaps he should be removed to the hospital?’

‘With all due respect, Sir John,’ the doctor said, closing his medical bag with a decisive snap of the brass locks, ‘I think you are forgetting that the natives are still celebrating Nyepi. Nothing will move on the island until tomorrow, and then in my experience things will only gradually get back to normal.’

‘This is all my fault,’ Lucetta said, choking back a sob. ‘I did this to him and I am so sorry.’

Eveline covered her face with her hands and wept.

‘Come now, Eveline,’ Lady Boothby said briskly. ‘Giving way like this won’t help anyone. But I’m glad to see that someone has learned a lesson from this.’ She cast a contemptuous glance at Lucetta and then turned her attention to the physician. ‘What do you suggest we do for the patient?’

‘My advice would be to take Mr Froy back to England as soon as possible. If Mrs Froy can book a passage for the family on the
Caroline
, which I believe is due to sail tomorrow evening that, in my opinion, would be the best course. A long sea voyage would be most beneficial. I believe that in his home surroundings, with the best medical attention that London has to offer, the patient has an excellent chance of making a full recovery.’

Lady Boothby nodded her head sagely, as if this pronouncement coincided with her own experience of medical matters gained in the charity hospital. ‘Exactly so. I think that makes excellent sense.’

Eveline dropped her hands to her sides. ‘Are we really going home?’

‘It would seem to be the most sensible course to take, ma’am. I’m sure that your daughter will help you to take care of Mr Froy,’ the doctor said, eyeing Lucetta sternly.

‘I’ll do anything I can,’ Lucetta murmured, staring down at her tightly clasped hands as she struggled with her conscience. The prospect of seeing Sam every day during the long sea voyage made her heart sing, but guilt weighed heavily on her soul.

The doctor picked up his medical bag, nodding to Sir John and Lady Boothby. ‘I’ll call again in the morning, but if Mr Froy’s condition should deteriorate, please send for me.’

‘I’ll sit up all night with him,’ Lucetta said hastily. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

The doctor patted her on the arm and for the first time that evening his lined face cracked into a half-smile. ‘The apoplectic fit could have occurred at any time, my dear. But another seizure could prove fatal. I strongly advise you to sail for London on the
Caroline
.’

Captain Sharpe rose from behind his desk as Eveline and Lucetta were ushered into his day cabin. ‘Good morning, ladies. This is a pleasant surprise.’ He pulled up two chairs. ‘Please be seated.’

‘Thank you, Captain,’ Eveline said, perching on the edge of the chair with her hands folded primly in her lap. ‘I came to inform you that in the light of my poor dear husband’s present condition, I will be taking over his business affairs.’

Lucetta took a seat beside her mother feeling slightly in awe of the stranger who seemed to inhabit Mama’s frail body. She barely recognised this determined woman whose whole demeanour had changed overnight. This was not the fragile invalid who took to her bed at the slightest upset or the first hint of a headache. This was a woman hell bent on snatching her husband back from the jaws of death and woe betide anyone who attempted to gainsay her.

Captain Sharpe seemed similarly nonplussed. He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. ‘I was sorry to learn of Mr Froy’s indisposition, ma’am. I trust he is on the road to recovery?’

Eveline eyed him coldly. ‘I won’t beat about the bush, Captain. I understand that the
Caroline
is sailing for England this evening.’

‘That is so, ma’am.’

‘The doctor says that my husband should return home at the first possible opportunity.’

Lucetta held her breath, crossing her fingers. She wanted this for Papa but even more for herself and Sam. She knew it was selfish of her, but the desire for his company filled her soul with an urgent need that was frightening in its intensity.

‘And you require berths on the
Caroline
?’ Captain Sharpe said, visibly relaxing.

Eveline inclined her head. ‘Yes, Captain. Is that possible?’

‘It can be arranged, ma’am. We have a full complement of passengers but I will be pleased to allocate my own cabin to you and Mr Froy. We can accommodate
Miss Froy and your maid, but I am afraid they will have to share.’

‘I don’t mind in the least,’ Lucetta said earnestly.

Eveline shot her a withering look. ‘Thank you, Lucetta. I think we might take that for granted.’

Captain Sharpe mopped beads of perspiration from his brow with a pristine white handkerchief. ‘Is there anything else, ma’am?’

‘Yes, indeed there is, Captain. As I’m sure you are aware, at least half my husband’s consignment of cargo is stuck at the bottom of a gorge in the north of the island. It must be retrieved and loaded before we sail.’

Captain Sharpe’s mouth opened and closed several times, reminding Lucetta forcibly of a goldfish that she had once owned. It had swum round and round in its glass bowl until one day the cat decided it was hungry enough to go fishing and had gobbled it up, leaving a sad little fishtail in evidence of the evil deed. She clenched her fists in her lap as a bubble of near hysteria rose in her throat. She willed her mother to accept the fact that fate had intervened and the wretched furniture was as good as lost.

‘I’m afraid I cannot delay the ship’s departure, ma’am.’

‘I might remind you that my husband has shares in your company,’ Eveline said coldly.

‘I am well aware of that, Mrs Froy, but I’m afraid what you ask is impossible. The natives have only just commenced work again after Nyepi, and I’m afraid it would take more than a day to retrieve the goods.’

‘Then I insist that you defer sailing until such time as the cargo is complete.’

Lucetta glanced anxiously at Captain Sharpe and her heart sank. She could tell by his expression that his reply was going to be in the negative.

He shook his head. ‘That is impossible, I’m afraid, Mrs Froy. We sail on the tide this evening and I have orders to pick up another cargo in Java.’

Lucetta jumped to her feet. ‘Mama, surely it is better to take half the merchandise and get Father safely home?’

‘Leave this to me, Lucetta,’ Eveline said, rising from the chair. She faced up to Captain Sharpe, even though he was the taller by a good head and shoulders. ‘My husband will report your intransigent attitude to the board of governors when we get home, Captain.’

‘That is his prerogative, ma’am. But, if you so wish, I can arrange for the remainder of the cargo to be shipped by the
Caroline
’s sister ship. The
Louisa
should be in Sydney by now and is due to arrive here in about a month’s time.’

Eveline met his gaze with a look of pure steel. ‘That really isn’t good enough. Do I have to remind you that you were supposed to take the whole shipment back to London?’

‘With respect, ma’am, I cannot challenge the orders I receive from the company’s agent in Bali. If Mr Froy was well enough he would acknowledge that profit comes before everything, and he would appreciate that fact.’ Captain Sharpe’s voice deepened and his bushy grey eyebrows snapped together over the
bridge of his bulbous nose, which was suspiciously red at the tip.

Lucetta glanced anxiously at her mother, expecting her to collapse beneath a look that might have quelled a mutiny at sea, but to her astonishment Mama did not seem in the least perturbed. In fact she seemed almost to be enjoying this battle of wills.

‘Don’t think you can browbeat me, Captain. My husband’s profits depend on shipping the whole consignment back to England.’

‘Then what do you suggest, Mrs Froy?’

‘I’ll agree to your terms providing I can be certain that the rest of the cargo will be retrieved, restored and made ready to be taken on board the
Louisa.
And I want someone trustworthy and resourceful left in charge of the entire operation.’

‘I’m sure the company’s agent will be only too happy to oversee matters, ma’am.’

‘No, Captain. I want Mr Cutler to stay behind and take full responsibility for a valuable cargo.’

‘Mama, please,’ Lucetta cried, clutching her mother’s arm. ‘Don’t do this.’

‘Be silent, Lucetta. This doesn’t concern you,’ Eveline said, focusing her full attention on Captain Sharpe. ‘Do you agree to my terms, sir?’

‘You drive a hard bargain, ma’am, but you leave me little choice. Mr Cutler will remain in Bali as you request and I will make him responsible for the retrieval, storage and shipping of your goods.’

‘Thank you, Captain Sharpe,’ Eveline said graciously. ‘I knew we could come to a civilised arrangement.
Lucetta, we must return to the consulate immediately. There is much to do.’

Lucetta stared at her mother in disbelief. The heat in the cabin was intense and she was finding it difficult to breathe. Her mother’s pale oval face swam before her eyes and she felt herself falling into nothingness.

‘She’s coming to. Fetch Sister Demarest.’

Lucetta opened her eyes and saw a fresh young face hovering above her. For a moment she thought she was dead and that she was looking up at an angel, but then she realised that the halo was merely a white cap with sunlight reflecting off its starched surface, and there was an almost overpowering smell of disinfectant in the air. She was dimly aware of the sound of scurrying footsteps and the soft murmur of female voices. She licked her dry lips and tried to speak but she was weak, so very weak that the words would not come. Where was she, and – even more frightening – who was she?

‘Don’t try to talk,’ the disembodied face said, smiling. ‘You’ve been very poorly but you’re on the mend now.’

‘That will be enough, Nurse Hastings.’

The smile faded and the young nurse drew back respectfully as Sister Demarest arrived at the bedside. She thrust a thermometer under Lucetta’s tongue and took her pulse, all done efficiently but in stony silence. ‘You are lucky, young lady,’ she said at last, in a cool clipped voice. ‘Nurse Hastings, give the patient a bed bath and then she may be able to take a little gruel.’

‘Yes, Sister.’

Nurse Hastings scuttled away to do her bidding and Sister Demarest stood over Lucetta, staring down at her with an impassive expression on her sculpted features. ‘Are you able to tell me your name?’

Lucetta tried to focus her eyes on the face above her, but there seemed to be an impenetrable fog in her brain. She felt panic rising in her chest as she tried to remember who she was. She must have a name. Everyone had a name, so why couldn’t she remember hers? She closed her eyes and opened them again, hoping that perhaps this was a bad dream, but nothing had changed. She shook her head as hot tears spilled from her eyes and ran down her neck to dampen the pillow beneath her head.

‘Never mind,’ Sister Demarest said in a softer tone. ‘It will come back to you. Rest now.’ She glided away, moving gracefully as if she were skating on ice.

After a futile attempt to raise herself onto her elbow, Lucetta realised just how weak she was. She could barely lift her hand to brush the tears from her cheeks, but with an effort she managed to turn her head very slightly from side to side. She could see uniform rows of beds with pale-faced women lying as stiff as corpses beneath crisp white coverlets. It dawned on her then that she was in a hospital but how she came to be here and why, were two of the unanswered questions that both terrified and confused her.

Nurse Hastings bustled up to the bedside carrying an enamel bowl, a sponge and a towel. ‘Here we are again, miss. I’m sorry I don’t know your name, but we
call you Daisy between ourselves.’ She set the bowl down on the bedside cabinet. ‘I’ll just pull the curtains, Daisy, and then I’ll give you a nice wash. You’ll feel heaps better then, and maybe you could manage to eat some gruel.’

Nurse Hastings chattered away cheerfully as she performed the bed bath routine efficiently but gently and with respect for her patient’s modesty. Lucetta was suddenly aware of her wasted limbs and emaciated body. Had she always been so stick-thin? She really could not remember.

‘There we are, Daisy,’ Nurse Hastings said, slipping a clean cotton nightgown over Lucetta’s head. ‘You’ll feel better in no time. I’ll just get rid of the slops and then I’ll bring you your breakfast. Hold your arms up so I can get them into the sleeves, there’s a good girl.’

As obedient as a small child, Lucetta did as she was told and then fell back on the pillows completely exhausted by the effort. ‘Wh-where am I?’ she whispered.

‘You’re in the London Fever Hospital. You’ve been here for almost three weeks and your brothers have been very worried about you. They’ll be so pleased to know that you’re on the mend. Now you rest, while I go and get that nice hot bowl of gruel.‘

Lucetta absorbed this information in silence as she watched Nurse Hastings draw the curtains with swift bird-like movements. She hurried off taking the bowl and towel with her and her small feet made pitter-pattering sounds on the bare linoleum.

Brothers! The idea of having brothers seemed so alien to Lucetta as to be impossible. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

It was pitch dark and all around her people were shouting and screaming. The deck was wet and slippery and tilted at an alarming angle.

‘Abandon ship.’

‘Oh, my God. We’re sinking.’

‘Get out of me way, girl.’

She was being pushed and jostled by frantic people wearing nothing but their night clothes. Children were crying and clinging to their mother’s skirts. Dazed and disorientated, Lucetta tried to push her way back towards the captain’s cabin where she had left her parents before retiring to the small cabin she shared with Gertie, but it was impossible to go against the surge of panic-stricken passengers. The deck lurched beneath her feet and then tilted crazily. She was slipping and sliding towards the ship’s railings as people jumped overboard in order to avoid being crushed by the weight of those being thrown against them. There was nothing she could do to save herself. She tripped and would have fallen but someone grabbed her by the arms and she found herself lifted off her feet and tossed into the air. For a few brief seconds she was flying upwards but then she plummeted down into the inky black waters. She was going down, down, down. She couldn’t breathe. She was drowning.