The William Monk Mysteries_ The First Three Novels - Anne Perry [421]
She smiled at him. “I would be less than honest if I remained here once you are perfectly well. Then how could you recommend me, should anyone ask?”
“I shall give you the very highest recommendation,” he promised. “When the time comes—but it is not yet. And what about your friend who wishes for a position? What have you found for her?”
“Nothing so far. That is why I was looking concerned just now.” It was at least partially true, if not the whole truth.
“Well, you had better look a little harder,” he said seriously. “What manner of person is she?”
“A soldier’s widow, well-bred, intelligent.” She looked at his innocent face. “And I should think most unlikely to take kindly to being given orders.”
“Awkward,” he agreed with a tiny smile. “You will not find it an easy task.”
“I am sure there must be something.” She busied herself tidying away three books he had been reading, without asking him if he were finished or not.
“And you haven’t done very well with Mrs. Carlyon either, have you,” he went on.
“No—not at all. We must have missed something.” She had related much of her discussions to him to while away the long evenings, and to help put it all in order in her own mind.
“Then you had better go back and see the people again,” he advised her solemnly, looking very pink and white in his dressing robe with his face scrubbed clean and his hair a trifle on end. “I can spare you in the afternoons. You have left it all to the men. Surely you have some observations to offer? Take a look at the Furnival woman. She sounds appalling!”
He was getting very brave in offering his opinions, and she knew that if Monk and Rathbone were right, Louisa Furnival was the sort of woman who would terrify Major Tiplady into a paralyzed silence. Still, he was quite correct. She had left it very much to other people’s judgment. She could at least have seen Louisa Furnival herself.
“That is an excellent idea, Major,” she concluded. “But what excuse can I give for calling upon a woman I have never met? She will show me the door instantly—and quite understandably.”
He thought very gravely for several minutes, and she disappeared to consult the cook about dinner. In fact the subject was not raised again until she was preparing to leave him for the night.
“She is wealthy?” the major said suddenly as she was assisting him into bed.
“I beg your pardon?” She had no idea what he was talking about.
“Mrs. Furnival,” he said impatientiy. “She is wealthy?”
“I believe so—yes. Apparently her husband does very well out of military contracts. Why?”
“Well go and ask her for some money,” he said reasonably, sitting rigidly and refusing to be assisted under the blankets. “For crippled soldiers from the Crimea, or for a military hospital or something. And if by any chance she gives you anything, you can pass it on to an appropriate organization. But I doubt she will. Or ask her to give her time and be a patron of such a place.”
“Oh no,” Hester said instinctively, still half pushing at him. “She would throw me out as a medicant.”
He resisted her stubbornly. “Does it matter? She will speak to you first. Go in Miss Nightingale’s name. No self-respecting person would insult her—she is revered next to the Queen. You do want to see her, don’t you, this Furnival woman?”
“Yes”, Hester agreed cautiously. “But …”
“Where’s your courage, woman? You saw the charge of the Light Brigade.” He faced her defiantly. “You’ve told me about it! You survived the siege of Sebastopol. Are you afraid of one miserable woman who flirts?”
“Like many a good soldier before me.” Hester grinned. “Aren’t you?”
He winced. “That’s a foul blow.”
“But it hit the mark,” she said triumphantly. “Get into bed.”
“Irrelevant! I cannot go—so you must!” He still sat perched on the edge. “You must fight whatever the battle is. This time the enemy has picked the ground, so you must gird yourself, choose your weapons well, and attack when he least expects it.” Finally he swung his feet up and she pulled the blankets over him. He finished with fervor. “Courage.”