yRing for the Nurse(20)

"They are engaged, darling, didn't you know?" Diana asked with a burst  of satirical laughter, then, becoming serious, added, "I wouldn't  trouble your head about it, you'll never really know. You've done what  you thought best for your patient and that is as far as a nurse is  supposed to go," she ended practically.

"It's been a relief to tell someone," Felicity admitted, then went irrelevantly, "How did you know Guy Brenton was leaving?"

"I heard in theatre this morning, can't remember who told me."

"There must be a grape-vine system at St. Edwins, I never knew news get around so fast anywhere."

"I suppose you won't be sorry to see the back of him, will you? It must  have been awful nursing him, Philip says it's marvellous how you've  managed." Diana spoke with admiration.

"I'm sorry he's going," Felicity acknowledged. "It's odd, but you know I've enjoyed nursing him."

There was a moment's silence during which Felicity was uncomfortably  aware of her friend's searching glance. "I've often pulled your leg  about Guy Brenton-we all did-I mean before the accident-tell me the  truth, Felicity-you know you can trust me-do you seriously care about  the man or something?"

"I like him-admire him-more than anyone." There was, despite her effort at nonchalance, a note of intensity in her voice.

"Good heavens!" At any other time Felicity would have been driven to  laughter at Diana's expression of mixed awe and horror. "You-you  seriously mean that?" She broke off, searching vainly for words. "You  really care about him, and I never guessed for a moment." She relapsed  into silence.

"I know it must sound crazy but don't misunderstand me. I'm not a  schoolgirl harbouring a secret passion, it's just that I once believed I  could never care for any man again, that Peter was, and always would be  the only man in my life. I know now that isn't true. I loved Peter, but  I was so young and Guy Brenton has shown me that I could forget."

"I think I begin to see." Diana spoke with slow deliberation. "Of  course, that's different, one day you are bound to care for someone and  if it has taken Guy Brenton to open your eyes, that's all to the good-I  got you all wrong at first-I might have known you would hardly have run  the risk of giving Alaine her ring back if you'd been keen on him  yourself, that would have been too quixotic! Oh well, if he has managed  to open your eyes to the future and helped you to bury, the past, then  handing him his love back on a platter was the feast service you could  render him in return."

"Yes-but-" Felicity bit back the words. What was the use, she scarcely  understood her own emotions, so surely it was a problem no one could  share. Perhaps had she found the courage to delve into her heart it  might have made a difference; she scarcely knew, but if Guy Brenton  loved and needed Alaine, then at whatever the cost to herself she knew  she would have stopped at nothing to further that end.





CHAPTER NINE



It had been all very well for Felicity to dismiss her doubts by the  simple expedient of refusing to face them, but when the following  morning she returned to duty and entered Guy Brenton's room, memory  returned in an over whelming flood and it was only by exerting all the  control at her command that she was able to meet him again face to face  without giving any sign of her emotional upheaval. She had not had the  courage to probe her innermost feelings and now she was paying for that  temerity. In spite of all her defences she could no longer deny that Guy  Brenton stirred within her some feeling deeper than mere admiration or  friendship. The whole-hearted, blind devotion she had felt for Peter  could never return, the past three years at St. Edwin's had weaned her  forever from the romantic dreams of her girlhood, but she had to admit  to the quickened beat of her heart and that sense of pleasurable  excitement which a mere smile from Guy Brenton could so readily evoke.  It was fortunate that he, seated in his armchair and engrossed in the  morning paper, was unaware of Felicity's chaotic thoughts as with hands  that were not quite steady, she made the bed and set about tidying the  small room. With studied care she kept her face averted, fearful of  betraying her discomfiture and exerting all her control not to rush from  the room. Her fingers felt like thumbs and even screwing back the cap  on a tube of toothpaste became a skilled operation and it was hardly  surprising that in removing the blade from the razor it cut clean into  her finger. The momentary pain brought her to her senses; tying her  handkerchief tightly round the bleeding finger she took a determined  grip on herself. This was quite ridiculous! She shook out a towel with  vindictive force and folded it neatly on the rail. Peter might have  become but a memory but that didn't mean that she had or was ever likely  to fall seriously in love again. She liked Guy Brenton immensely, she  was quite prepared to admit that, but to imbue their relationship with  any deeper emotion was utterly ridiculous. A deep sigh escaped her as  she decided to put an end to these absurd daydreams, she couldn't  imagine what had possessed her to harbour even for a moment such  romantic and unreal ideas.                       
       
           



       



"A very heartfelt sigh, Nurse, what is the trouble?" Guy Brenton queried, lowering his paper.

"Nothing-nothing at all." Felicity stooped to retrieve the waste-paper  basket from beneath the dressing-table. "I-I must have been dreaming,"  she added with a certain degree of truth.

"What's the matter with your finger?" he asked, catching sight of the unwieldy bandage. "Come here, show me what you have done."

"Just a scratch-that's all." Felicity dropped the basket and with an  instinctive action hid her hand behind her back. "I-I just caught it on  the edge of the razor-there isn't anything to be seen."

"Come over here." There was a ghost of a smile on Guy Brenton's lips,  but nevertheless his voice held a hint of command which Felicity had no  course but to obey. She advanced with obvious reluctance feeling, as she  held out her hand for his inspection, like a naughty child caught  red-handed stealing the jam! "It's quite deep, get me a dressing for  it."

"Really, it's nothing," Felicity protested, but as she attempted to turn  back to her interrupted task his voice arrested her again.

"Do as I tell you-go on, hurry up," he added as she made no move to go.  "I'll fetch it myself if you don't." The amusement in his voice  minimized the threat, but Felicity, sensing the uselessness of further  argument hastily went in search of the dressing tray.

"Put it down there where I can reach," Despite the handicap of a useless  arm, Guy Brenton, with Felicity's help, cut a small strip of dressing  and placed the bandage in readiness. "Here, give me your hand." Again it  was a somewhat difficult procedure but with her right hand available  and his left, they managed a presentable job. "Well, how's that?"  Holding her injured hand he viewed it speculatively. "A somewhat  amateurish appearance, but assuredly sterile!"

Uncomfortably aware of the close contact of his fingers on her wrist,  she smiled her thanks. It seemed an interminable time before he released  his hold, and when at last, her hand freed, she was able to turn away,  it was with a feeling of infinite relief. It was quite absurd how that  touch had caused the blood to pound in her veins, not only absurd but  almost frightening, and the incident had not done anything towards  calming her already chaotic thoughts.

"Don't go for a moment, I want a word with you." Arrested by his words,  she paused in the doorway, tray in hand. "Put that down for a moment and  come here, there is something I have to ask you."



A numb sense of fear held her in grip as she obediently replaced the  tray on the table and turned to her companion. What had he to ask? What  question lay behind that impassive expression? Unconsciously her eyes  turned towards the cupboard, he was walking alone now, he had  demonstrated to Sister that morning how quickly he had found his feet.  Had he remembered the ring, had he looked for it, had he missed it?

"What's the matter? You look like a scared rabbit." He stopped, then  added with a touch of irritation, "It always annoys me the way you  nurses behave as if I were some terrifying monster-you at least, so far,  have spared me that, I can't stand that cringing attitude."

Relieved at least for the moment of her own particular fear, Felicity  was stung to retort. "You ask for it, you terrify people out of their  wits!"

"That's not reasonable, apparently I have never terrified you."

"No," she admitted a trifle doubtfully. "You haven't, but then I just refused to allowed myself to be bullied."