She pretended not to see the slightly panicky expression on Theo’s face before she went out the door. His news that Byron had arrived with schoolbooks was exciting, but she felt a twinge of disappointment that Adam had not come himself. Just in case, though, Cathy paused in the corridor to peek into a shell-edged mirror. Her hair was pinned up into a soft pouf, and she looked pretty yet studious in a high-necked shirtwaist of lace-trimmed batiste paired with a long, fitted gray skirt. Hurrying into the lobby, she saw Byron coming through the main door.
“Hello!” He set a large crate of books on a marble-topped table and expelled an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Someone has sent you a very heavy gift.”
“How lovely! It’s kind of you to deliver it.”
As she reached out her hands to him, Byron’s eyes swept over her delicate form, lingering on her big brown eyes and warm smile. “I should have fought harder to marry you myself,” he murmured with a rueful smile. “Would I have had a chance?”
Her smile softened. “Although I completely adore you, dear Byron, I’m afraid the answer is no. And I think you know the reason why.”
Cathy could see him wondering if he should ask more questions about her reasons for being at the Ocean Breeze, but before he could speak, she lifted the lid from the crate and began to take the books out. There were several copies of A Course in Spelling and a full dozen Geographical Readers. She counted six arithmetic books, and then, on the bottom, there were twelve new leather-bound volumes of Little Women, including Cathy’s own which she had inadvertently left behind at Tempest Hall. An envelope was tucked inside that book, and she opened it.
Cathy, I know I should wait for your list, but I’ve discovered it’s bloody difficult to find texts for this age level on the island. The search continues. I hope it’s not too much to ask that your students share some of these.
How fortunate they will be to read Little Women with you as their teacher.
Until this evening, I remain - Yours, etc., Raveneau
She felt herself blush helplessly, and longed to touch the pad of her thumb to the signature which he had scrawled with careless elegance.
After a moment, Byron cleared his throat. “I have something else in the carriage. Adam has sent you a blackboard and easel.”
“Indeed?” Reluctantly, she slipped the note back into the book and followed him outside. There was a large, flat rectangle wrapped in brown paper on the seat of the open landau. And, to her surprise, Cathy saw both little Paul and Alice, crouching together under the hulking baobab tree. Paul was scratching with a twig among some rocks and leaves while Alice watched him protectively.
The sight of Paul always stirred up her emotions. She couldn’t help thinking back to the very first day they’d arrived on the island, when Adam had been rather cool to her and they had encountered Gemma Hart in Bridgetown. Just the memory of Gemma’s knowing gaze could still make her feel sick inside. And, too often, lying awake in the middle of the night, she relived every horrible, humiliating moment of their encounter at Tempest Hall. The image of Paul, coming out from behind his mother’s skirts, was seared into her memory.
Repeatedly, Cathy had told herself that he was an innocent victim in this drama, but just the thought of him caused a visceral reaction. Why was he here again? Why wasn’t his father looking after him? Before she could put these questions to Byron, Alice turned and saw her mistress.
“Woof!” she cried joyfully and trundled toward her.
“Ah, girl, it is so good to see you,” Cathy said with feeling. She bent and began to pet the old Labrador as Byron started toward the carriage.
Just then, Paul screamed in fear and pain. Trembling, he struggled to his feet and held out his arm, shrieking and crying at the same time. Alice was the first one at his side, closely followed by the two adults.
“What happened, Paul? Was it a thorn?” Byron hoisted him into his arms and wiped the child’s tear-soaked face with a handkerchief.
Suddenly, Alice began to bark urgently at the base of the tree and Cathy hurried over. “What is it, girl? What do you see?”
The dog reached out with one paw and gingerly touched a few leaves just enough to expose a wriggling wormlike creature perhaps six inches long. Byron came, too, still carrying Paul.
“It looks like a centipede,” he said, bending closer. Alice continued to bark and Paul’s shrieks grew louder.
“Why, it’s enormous! Adam warned me about them at Tempest Hall,” Cathy said, trying to get a closer look. “He said the Bajans call them ‘forty legs,’ and although their bites sting and can make you sick, they’re not fatal.”
“It bite me!” Paul sobbed.
They could see it then, two tiny marks on his pudgy wrist. It was already beginning to swell around the edges of the bite. Something inside of Cathy stiffened up, and she took charge. “Byron, follow me. We’ll take him up to my room.”
Paul’s cries were subsiding as Byron followed her up the back stairs with Alice laboring in his wake. When they reached Cathy’s suite, she opened the door and quickly drew back the counterpane on her bed. The windows were open, and a soft, warm breeze lapped at the mosquito netting.
“Just set him down right here, and then I want you to go and ask Mrs. Ford, the cook, what to do for a centipede bite.” She turned to Paul and sat down beside him on the edge of the bed. “I don’t want you to worry about a thing, darling. You’re going to be just fine.”
“Ooh-ah,” he whimpered.
“That’s his monkey,” Byron said from the doorway. “I’ll fetch him from the carriage while I’m downstairs.”
When they were alone, Paul looked around the testered bed and the pretty room, and his tears began to flow again. “I want Papa!”
Cathy instinctively learned toward him with her arms open, and to her surprise, he came immediately into her embrace, resting the weight of his damp curly head on her breasts. His little hands clung to her. Although her restrictive upbringing had allowed her very little experience with babies or small children, she felt something warm and sweet blossom deep inside her heart. Tightening her arms around him, she turned her cheek against his brow, inhaled the sweaty-baby scent of him, and rocked slowly back and forth.
Just as they both began to relax, Byron burst back into the room with Ooh-Ah in one hand and a basin with supplies in the other. “Is he all right? Good God, Adam will murder me if he’s not all right!”
It seemed that Mrs. Ford had matter-of-factly prescribed soap and water, followed by cold compresses to be changed every few minutes. She had even sent some of her precious ice to chill the wet towels. While Cathy proceeded to administer first aid, Paul refused to leave her lap, and he even kept his face turned against the fresh bodice of her shirtwaist.
At one point, seeing Byron’s distraught expression, Cathy whispered, “Your friend cannot blame you for anything that happened today. If he is so attached to this child, perhaps he should look after him himself rather than relegating his care to you.”
He blinked. “He’s been an amazing father, but he can’t be in two places at once.”
“What in the world does that mean?”
“Nothing. Never mind. But I’m his best friend, and I would lay down my life for this child.” Pausing, he bit his lip. “Perhaps I should place a telephone call to him. You have a telephone here, don’t you?”
“Yes, but there isn’t one at Tempest Hall, so it won’t do you any good.”
Byron’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, right. Well, I was thinking he might be in Bridgetown.”
“Byron, unless you have an itinerary of his movements, I hardly see how you could reach him there by telephone.” Cathy’s face softened as she looked down at her tiny patient. Drawing the icy towel back, she examined the wound. “I think it’s better already!” she told Paul. “The swelling is nearly gone. I’ll bet it barely hurts at all now!”
He stared at it, too, then snuggled back against her. “Caffy?”
“Yes, darling.”
“Will you be my mummy?”
Suddenly there seemed to be a lump in her throat. “But you already have a mummy, sweetheart, and she loves you very much.”
“Mummy sick, Papa say.” Gravely, he looked up at her face and experimentally patted her cheek.
Slowly, she nodded, then began to rock back and forth again. Byron put Ooh-ah into the crook of his little elbow, but Paul didn’t seem to notice. Soon, he was asleep.
A little while later, Byron took the sleeping Paul from Cathy’s arms and carried him down to the landau. Alice sat next to the child, guarding him and gazing sadly at her mistress as the carriage rolled away from the hotel.
Feeling emotional, Cathy sent her class home a bit early and had a long bath. The realization that Adam was going to arrive to take her out for dinner soon was a bit surreal. Reclining in the warm water, she began to shiver with nerves as she thought of being alone with him and the possibility that he might touch her or even attempt to kiss her. As memories flooded back of their wild nights in his bed at Tempest Hall, her nipples tightened and the pulse between her thighs throbbed. For a long moment, she lay still, her eyes closed against the feelings that she seemed powerless to control. Then, with a sigh, she sat up and began to wash with lavender-scented soap purchased long ago in Paris. The sooner she put some clothes on, the better off she’d be!