He shook his head, drifting into sleep almost as soon as I took away his bowl and cup.
I debated leaving him for a while and going to my own room. I hadn"t had a change of clothes for days, and a bath would have been heaven. But I was afraid to leave him alone. I didn"t want to address the reasons why.
And so I settled back in my chair, falling asleep myself to the rise and fall of his even breathing.
I woke sometime later with night creeping through the window and the lamps unlit. As I stirred, I could sense movement from the bed, and an instant of panic swept over me.
Then I realized that Peregrine had pushed himself back on his pillows and was asking if there was any of that soup left.
I got up and drew the drapes across the window, then found and lit the lamp. Susan had brought me a spirit lamp to keep the soup from thickening, and I heated it a little before giving him the cup to drink.
His hand was steadier now, and I left him to hold it for himself.
Over its rim his eyes were speculative, and I was suddenly nervous.
"If they told you what I"d done," he asked, "why did you allow yourself to be shut in here with me? I don"t remember much about the events leading up to my removal to the asylum. Dr. Hadley kept me heavily sedated. But I have nightmares all the same. If they are true, then I"m a monster."
"It"s Dr. Philips now," I reminded him. "Dr. Hadley is dead. As for my agreeing to care for you, I hardly expected a man with terminal pneumonia to present a problem. I"ve had to deal with men raving from pain and from night terrors. I"m stronger than I look. And my father would tell you I didn"t have the good sense to be afraid." I hesitated, and then asked, "Have you tried to harm anyone since the-the events that put you in the asylum?"
He moved restlessly among the bedclothes. "I"m not a lunatic."
"I never suggested you were-"
There was a determined knock at the door, and I went to open it. Mrs. Graham stood there in the pa.s.sage. I thought her eyes were nearly as darkly circled as my own.
"Timothy tells me that my son is going to live. Is that true?"
I thought she was glad, and was on the point of telling her that he would.
But she went on with a coldness in her voice that I was sure Peregrine could hear from his bed, "I shall inform the director of the asylum to send someone to fetch him at once."
"I don"t think he"s ready to travel-"
"Nonsense. He survived his journey here and he will survive his journey back where he belongs."
She turned on her heel and walked away.
I shut the door slowly, not wanting to see the look on Peregrine"s face.
He said, "There"s an end to it," in a clipped voice. I did turn then and caught the expression of despair before it was smoothed away.
His keepers came for him the next morning.
It was the first time I"d ever seen a patient of mine manacled before he was taken away. Yet Peregrine Graham was too weak to walk down the stairs unaided. It took two stalwart warders on either side, and still he was in danger of falling to his knees. Yet somehow he managed it, and I wondered if it was sheer pride.
There was no one in the pa.s.sage, by the stairs, or in the hall to bid him farewell. I threw a blanket around my shoulders and went out to the ambulance they had sent for him. In the end, I put the blanket around him on the bed to which he was chained, for there was nothing to cover him against the cold.
The driver waited impatiently, and I could see clearly what it was he was thinking-that I was wasting pity on a man who should have been hanged, if his family hadn"t had the money or position to send him to an asylum for the insane instead.
I went back into the house and slammed the door, unwilling to watch the ambulance pull away and turn back the way it had come.
Timothy appeared at the head of the stairs.
"He"s gone, then."
"An animal would have been treated better," I snapped without thinking about the fact that I was a guest here and should hold no opinions about circ.u.mstances of which I was ignorant.
"He is is an animal," Timothy said. "You saw him ill and weak. Not in his full strength." an animal," Timothy said. "You saw him ill and weak. Not in his full strength."
"I"m a nurse," I said, trying to rein in my anger. "Not a keeper. I look at a patient, not a prisoner."
"As you did with Booker."
"Yes."
"Which says much about your capacity for compa.s.sion."
Timothy turned away and was gone.
I went back to the room to clear away the bedding and the spirit lamp and what was left of the broth, but Susan was there before me.
She said, "I"ll boil these sheets, Miss, and see that everything"s put away."
I thanked her and went about collecting my own things.
"We was all amazed that he didn"t die. Mrs. Graham said it must be your fine nursing that did it. To tell truth, I don"t know how you could bear it!"
"He was ill. A nurse doesn"t ask who her patient is, or if he"s acceptable in Society."
"No, Miss. I think his mother would have preferred to see him dead. It was a terrible blow to the family, to have a son of the house taken up for murder."
"I don"t understand why he wasn"t sent to prison-or hanged."
"Because he was so young and never right in his mind, Miss. And the doctor and the rector and his tutor all spoke to the magistrate. It was decided that the asylum was for the best."
"But who did he murder?"
"I don"t know, Miss. It didn"t happen here. Mrs. Graham had taken him to London, to see a specialist. He hadn"t been well, there was nausea and vomiting, and he walked like a drunken man, hardly able to keep his feet. Dr. Hadley didn"t know what else to do. When she came home from there, she was as distraught as I"ve ever seen her, and Mr. Peregrine was locked in a room at the rectory. She sent for the rector and then for the magistrate, and I never saw Mr. Peregrine again, not even when they brought him here the other night. Mrs. Nichols and I were told to stay belowstairs."
"And then what happened? After Mrs. Graham spoke to these people?"
"He was taken away. And Mrs. Graham cried for days. It was the saddest thing."
"Arthur was here?"
"Oh, yes, Miss, as grim as I ever saw him. He didn"t speak to anyone for days. Master Timothy tried to comfort his mother, he kept putting his little arm around her shoulders. Master Jonathan paced the floor until Mr. Robert came and spoke to him, and after that he was quiet. Still, he sat in his room, pale as his shirt, worrying about his mother because she was crying. I tried to tell him that she was a strong woman, she"d be all right. But he wouldn"t hear me. He was angry with everyone, because he didn"t understand what was happening. Mr. Robert explained that Master Peregrine had been taken away because he was ill in his mind, but they were too young, they blamed him for everything, especially for having to cut their holiday in London short. But Mrs. Graham was strong, she stood up to all of it like the lady she is. All the gossip, the stares. I heard her tell Mr. Robert that those were the worst days she"d ever lived through. No soldier could have been braver. I couldn"t help but admire her."
"But what about the victim, the person he murdered? Surely the victim"s family came to the inquest and gave evidence against him?"
Susan was confused. "I don"t know-I never heard they were there. And she wasn"t killed here. That"s why the inquest was in London."
"What was the finding?" I asked.
"I don"t know, Miss, I wasn"t there. But Mrs. Graham came home, her face red from crying. Mr. Peregrine was already in the asylum, had been for days, and she told us all that he"d never leave it, he"d stay where he couldn"t harm anyone else."
I was more than a little confused. "The inquest was held in London, but Mr. Peregrine had already been taken away?"
"Yes, Miss, it was decided in London that he was in no state to be shut into a prison. There was a doctor at the asylum who treated such cases, and it was his opinion that Mr. Peregrine should be brought to him straightaway. That doctor, and Dr. Hadley, here, the rector, the tutor, the local magistrate, they all sent depositions to London, asking that Mr. Peregrine remain in that asylum where he could be cared for properly. I heard Mrs. Graham tell Dr. Hadley it was a great kindness. She said she couldn"t have faced her husband in heaven, if she"d let his son go to the hangman. But I don"t think it would have come to that. I don"t think they"ve hanged anyone his age in a hundred years. Not at Maidstone, they hadn"t."
I shivered at the thought. "How old did you say he was?"
"He wasn"t even fifteen when it happened and not well, in the bargain. If he"d been taken away and put into prison, it would have been a terrible burden for the family to carry, wouldn"t it?" She collected the bundle of sheets. "I"ve said enough, more than I should."
I handed her the pillow slips that I"d been removing, and asked, "You aren"t going to have to do all these by yourself, are you?"
"No, Miss, thank you for asking. There"s a laundress comes to see to the washing and ironing."
After Susan had gone, I stood in the empty room and thought about the man who had lain so ill in that bed.
Perhaps it wasn"t the first time Peregrine Graham had attacked someone. But that was neither here nor there. His brothers had had to grow up in the shadow of his crime of murder, and it must have been exceedingly difficult. While Peregrine had for the most part been civil and seemed perfectly sane, as far as I could judge, who knew what lay beneath the surface? I had glimpsed the force of his anger once, and that had been enough.
It was to his credit that Peregrine acknowledged what he"d done. He hadn"t tried to pretend to me that he was an innocent man, or that he didn"t deserve his fate. He knew very well that he must return to the asylum, and he went back peaceably. But his family, knowing his history better than I did, must have spent a good many uncomfortable nights while he was under their roof.
CHAPTER SEVEN
WHEN WE GATHERED in the dining room for our noon meal, Mrs. Graham was profuse in her apologies for using a guest so poorly, and added her grat.i.tude for saving her son"s life. I wasn"t sure I believed the latter. The Grahams could decently mourn the dead, and admit that they"d loved him. Even if they choked on the words. in the dining room for our noon meal, Mrs. Graham was profuse in her apologies for using a guest so poorly, and added her grat.i.tude for saving her son"s life. I wasn"t sure I believed the latter. The Grahams could decently mourn the dead, and admit that they"d loved him. Even if they choked on the words.
How would my own parents feel if I were taken up for murder?
A sobering thought that made the Grahams" dilemma strike home. And yet I couldn"t forget that they had protected themselves-at whose expense?
"My training wasn"t solely for the battlefield, Mrs. Graham. I was taught to work with the sick as well," I reminded her.
"We heard almost nothing from the sickroom except the endless sound of his coughing. Did-was Peregrine able to speak? I worry that they were treating him well, that he"d had proper care."
I knew what she was fishing for. She could have come and asked him about his care herself.
"He was hardly able to speak more than a few words," I told her. "He asked where he was, and if the war was still going on. He asked what year it was...." I let my voice trail off, as if I were having trouble remembering anything else. I most certainly couldn"t tell her that he believed she or Robert had killed his father.
She seemed to be surprised that he didn"t know what year this was. "But surely they tell him-" She stopped, then went on in a different direction. "Well. He"s always been troubled in his mind. Even as a child. At least he doesn"t appear to be any worse-violent, difficult to manage."
"I don"t think he had the strength to be difficult."
We had just finished our pudding when Dr. Philips came to the door and asked to speak to me.
While I was playing angel of mercy, Ted Booker had tried again to kill himself, and it had been necessary to strap him down to a bed and keep him at the surgery.
"I don"t know what will happen to him. I feel I"ve failed him in some fashion. He wants to see you. Meanwhile I must contact the clinic and tell them to hurry. Booker can"t wait six weeks for s.p.a.ce. Not now."
"He"s asking for me? I"m surprised he remembers me at all."
"I expect his wife may have told him. Will you come?"
Mrs. Graham protested, but this time it was more form than substance.
I went to fetch my coat and stepped out into the still, cold air.
"When I heard that Peregrine was ill," Dr. Philips said as I preceded him down the walk, "I offered to come. They told me you were managing very well. I wasn"t surprised. I"d already witnessed a little of your skills."
I turned my head to look at him. "But-I kept wondering why you hadn"t at least overseen what I was doing."
"I"m sure Mrs. Graham would have sent for me if she"d believed he was truly in danger. It was a compliment that she trusted to your training."
I opened my mouth to tell him just how ill Peregrine Graham had been, how I"d lain awake hour after hour, worried as he struggled to breathe. And then I stopped myself in time. What good would it do to make him wonder why Mrs. Graham had turned him away?
It hadn"t yet begun to snow, and I made some remark about how heavy the clouds were. Dr. Philips told me snow was unlikely. The awkward moment pa.s.sed.
We walked in silence to his surgery, cutting through the churchyard. I told him about the rector"s carpentry.
"He"s quite good with his hands. I could wish him a stronger force-he"s sometimes of two minds about what should be done when he ought to be taking a stand."
"Perhaps he"s chosen the wrong profession."
"You haven"t heard his sermons. They"re quite good as well," the doctor a.s.sured me. "It"s solving problems of a practical nature where he"s something of a paradox."
I wondered if he was thinking about the rector"s views on Ted Booker.
The doctor"s housekeeper met us at the door and let us into the surgery, saying as I entered, "You"re the young woman who knew Arthur."
"I did, yes."
"We all mourned him. Such a shame."
What do you say in response to that? I smiled, and she took my coat before leading me back to the small room where they had put Ted Booker.
He lay on the bed, his eyes closed, but he opened them when Dr. Philips said quietly, "She"s here."
I saw such misery in their depths. My heart went out to him. But I said in my brisk voice, "What"s this I hear about you doing yourself a harm?"
He looked at the doctor, and both Dr. Philips and the housekeeper withdrew, shutting the door softly after them.