Part 9 (2/2)

*I'm very sorry,' I said to the doctor. *She is ...' I trailed off unable to make an adequate excuse.

*She is disappointed and frustrated,' said Dr Frank. *Intelligence is the curse of women in our times. Be careful, my dear. You have more than your fair share.'

I shook hands and followed my companions. We were all shown out by a small woman in a neat ap.r.o.n who smiled and said how nice it was to have visitors.

*Is she?' said Bertram urgently in my ear.

*She's wearing a nurse's watch,' I responded, but I could understand why he had made the mistake. There was something too bright, too cheery in her manner. I could only imagine that such a bearing came of being daily positive in the face of human suffering.

The final door was opened by our original gatekeeper. He was as large and looming as my initial impression. One of his ears was broken into what I believe is commonly referred to as a cauliflower and his nose was askew. He stood close to the open door and, despite myself, I shrank back slightly. I was startled to see his lips curve upwards. He was enjoying dominating us by his presence.

Mr Bertram rose to the occasion and slipped him a coin. Then he ushered us out as casually as if we were all leaving a tearoom. It was quite the best response.

*What an awful place,' he said when we were safely back in the carriage. *Dr Frank clearly does his best, but the atmosphere! You were very brave, Beatrice.'

*Yes, I was,' said Beatrice pulling at her gloves. *Not that I accomplished much. There is a story there, but I have not yet made up my mind how to get at it.'

*You're not thinking of going back?' asked Bertram in alarm.

*No, but I think I might try and get an interview with one of those Lunacy Commissioners. Do you think they exist? Or was he fobbing us off?'

*I don't understand,' I said. *I thought this topic had been the subject of investigation for you for some time?'

*It has.'

*But didn't you do any research?'

Beatrice Wilton's lips almost disappeared her smile was so thin. *And what would you suggest?'

*Don't newspapers have cuttings libraries? Or even libraries.'

*How very interesting to meet a housekeeper who is so well informed. Perhaps you would like to tell me what my next step should be.'

*Well, I think,' I began without thinking. Beatrice interrupted me with a high, t.i.ttering laugh, *Really, Bertram, this girl is too much. You must school your servants better! And, Ursula, please do not presume to tell me my job. A journalist must follow her instincts. A good nose, as we say in the industry, is the best form of attack.'

I felt my eyebrows shoot up and my tongue longed to comment, but I caught sight of Bertram's face. *I'm sorry, if I gave offence,' I said as politely as I could manage, though the words nearly choked me. *I merely wish to be of a.s.sistance.'

My gracious apology earned me a curt nod. For the rest of the journey she conversed with Bertram in a low voice. My help was clearly not needed. When we arrived at the hotel Miss Wilton turned to me. *You may have the rest of the afternoon off. Your presence is not required until dinner. Sadly, etiquette decrees I must not dine alone with Mr Stapleford, no matter how much of a gentleman he may be.'

I looked past her at Bertram, who was staring at his shoes. *Sir?' I asked.

*You and Merrit could take this opportunity to fraternise. This is London, after all, and neither of you are needed,' said Beatrice.

*Fraternise?' I asked, a.s.suming one of my mother's minor expressions of haughtiness.

I thought it had done the trick for the woman had the grace to blush. But she was made of stronger stuff. *I'm sure it is very difficult for you to maintain the same level of decorum as Mr Stapleford and myself. I a.s.sumed you would relish the opportunity to spend time with someone of your own cla.s.s.'

Merrit! My own cla.s.s! My eyes were blazing so hard I could almost feel the heat. *I take my orders from Mr Stapleford, miss,' I said in a low, level voice, which if she had known me better would have had her running for the hills.

Bertram snapped back to the present. *I shall escort Miss Wilton upstairs. If you could wait for me in one of the smaller salons, I would be grateful for a word.'

I nodded. At last he was coming to his senses. However, when he finally joined me in the overly pink and frilly room, so not what one would expect in a modern establishment, his expression was one of fury.

*What the h.e.l.l do you think you're up to, Euphemia? Miss Wilton is deeply distressed over your behaviour. She has had to go and lie down. I have sent for the doctor. She has a weak heart, you know!'

I stammered for a moment trying to find words to express my feeling of injustice.

*How dare you try to tell her how to perform her profession!'

*But it doesn't make sense,' I finally exploded. *She knew nothing about the Lunacy Act. If she was investigating how the mentally ill are treated surely she would have some idea how the asylum worked?'

*She explained that! She said she needed to make Dr Frank think she knew nothing so she could catch him out.'

*Catch him out at what?'

*I don't know,' said Bertram. *I'm not a journalist.'

*She was asking questions about how one might get a family member committed.'

*Yes, she was. That must be it. That must be what she suspects.'

*You don't think she might have had someone in mind?'

*No,' said Bertram. *There is no insanity in her family. She has a.s.sured me of that.'

*That wasn't what I meant.'

*Then I don't follow you, Euphemia.' Bertram straightened his shoulders and curled his lip. His whole att.i.tude was one of challenge.

I will always wonder if I had spoken then if things might have been different, but Rory's warning played in my mind. I also knew of no manner possible in which I could convince him that Miss Wilton, for all her riches, was in her own way a gold-digger and Bertram was the prize. As it was I took refuge in half-truths. *I'm sorry,' I said. *I'm very concerned over Mrs Wilson. She and I have never been the best of friends, but with her in hospital so ill and us so far away not knowing how she is faring ...' I swallowed hard. *I apologise if I have distressed Miss Wilton. I am not myself.'

Bertram read my bright eyes as being on the verge of tears instead of the anger and disappointment I was suppressing. His face lit up. *Of course,' he said. *I sometimes forget you are only a woman and do not have the male strength of mind.' He added quickly. *I mean that as a compliment. You are the most capable young woman of my acquaintance, but you are still ill and shocked from the attack that terrible night.'

*My head does hurt and I am more than usually fatigued,' I said honestly.

*I should have told you earlier. I rang up Stapleford and I have reports that Mrs Wilson is doing as well as can be expected. She is not yet fully conscious, but there is a policeman on hand to take her statement as soon as she recovers.' He paused. *I must say I was quite impressed with the efficiency of that.'

*They may be concerned that her attacker will not wish her to regain consciousness,' I said.

*What a horrible thought!'

*But a very realistic one,' I said sadly.

Bertram pondered for a moment then exclaimed, *But that means that you also could be in danger!'

*Possibly, though I have made it clear to the police I did not see the attacker clearly.'

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