That momentary hesitation had proved that it was not easy for him to touch on the subject of Alaine's departure. What the happenings of that afternoon had meant to him she would never know. The shock of his father's illness might, momentarily have swept all else from his mind, but now it could only be part of the pain he was suffering so clearly reflected in the drawn lines of his face and the deep shadows of fatigue, beneath his eyes.
"I shall not go back with Tony," Felicity asserted firmly. Then, with somewhat less assurance, added, "I shall leave St. Edwin's as I've arranged. I'll have to go on nursing but I think I ought to make a change. I'd like to get to some seaside or country hospital-somewhere out of London." Even as she spoke she knew she was taking the biggest gamble of her life. Now, she really stood at the parting of the ways and by deliberate intent she had taken the road which would separate her from Guy.
"I wonder-dare I ask you?" Guy looked straight at Felicity and his unspoken need of her assurance was more than she could resist.
"Of course-ask me anything. Is there something you want me to do for you?" She smiled encouragingly, aware again of that urge to go to his side, to take his hands within her own and beg his confidence and make him understand her longing to be of help.
"I was wondering-" he began tentatively, then paused, obviously finding it difficult to frame his request. "When you leave at the end of the week-if by then my father is well enough to go home, would you go back with him? Just for a few weeks," he interposed quickly as if fearful of her answer. Her hesitation must have been obvious and no doubt in an endeavour to forestall a refusal he went on. "The old man is so fond of you, it would make things so much easier for him to have you there, he'll definitely need a nurse for some time after his return, and I, also should have much more confidence knowing you were with him."
Weir Court in summer! Felicity nearly laughed aloud, the thought was so ridiculous and irrelevant. Here she was actually thinking of the hills, the fields and meadows, when the real issue was something which touched the very foundations of her whole future. Wasn't she giving up St. Edwin's her friends, her prospects, all in order to forget this man, and now he dangled this temptation before her eyes and with all her soul she longed to stretch out and grasp it. But after all, could just a few weeks make any difference? Guy wouldn't even be there, just perhaps an occasional day or so ... her heart-beats quickened as she found her resolution weakening, and torn with her conflicting doubts Felicity returned Guy's questioning glance, scarcely as yet daring to frame her answer.
"I'm sorry-I should not have asked-" he began, but Felicity quickly interrupted.
"But, of course, I'll do as you want, I'd love to go down to Weir with your father." The words seemed to Felicity to have issued from her lips without conscious volition, but having spoken them she knew no regret. Guy's obvious relief and pleasure entirely robbed her of any lingering doubts she might have harboured as to the wisdom of her decision.
"I can't tell you what a load that is off my mind." He rose and crossed to Felicity. "I can't thank you enough-but I do know that my father will make up for my deficiencies in that direction." He smiled as he held out his hand to assist her to her feet. "You look desperately tired. The spare room is opposite my father's. Go and lie down, sleep as long as you want. I'll square Matron in the morning."
Felicity was glad of Guy's supporting hand; the food and drink had refreshed her but even mow she felt almost dazed with fatigue and as she stood the room seemed to swing around her.
"You certainly are exhausted." He firmly linked an arm beneath hers and led her along the corridor. At the bedroom door he paused. "You'll find a dressing-gown of mine in the cupboard ." Again there was that note of hesitation. "Tony apparently forgot his, left it hanging behind the cabin door, so it's the one I lent him-wrap it round you and get some sleep." He released his hold and letting his hand slide down her arm held her fingers for a moment between his own, his expression showing his solicitude, and a smile-almost tender-playing at the corners of his lips. "Sleep well-and thank you with all my heart."
Later, when she sank into the sweet unconscious state of sleep, she could still feel the touch of his hand and see that tender smile-but it was different. In her dreams she had almost reached fulfilment, yet even as she lifted her face for his kiss and felt his warm breath against her cheek, the illusion was shattered and she woke to find a beam of morning sunlight caressing her upturned face, while a playful breeze from the opened bedroom window gently billowed the curtains and fanned the golden tendrils of her hair.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Felicity slipped the airmail letter she had been reading back in its envelope and resting her hands idly on her lap looked across the sweeping lawns of Weir Court. The flower borders were now a riot of colour and even from where she sat on the terrace the sweet scent of roses assailed her nostrils, and all the country sounds she loved, the call of birds, the lowing of cattle, the hum of bees as they flew from flower to flower were as music in her ears.
The weeks she had spent nursing Colonel Brenton recalled the care-free days of her childhood with her parents and Tony in Somerset. He was an easy and charming patient, never failing to show his gratitude for her attention and never lacking in courtesy and consideration. The severe attack he had suffered had enfeebled him considerably. He was unlikely ever to regain his former strength, but his progress was encouraging and, without grumbling, he had resigned himself to the inevitable. Felicity glanced at his recumbent figure lying on the long dicker chair at her side. He was sleeping peacefully, and with gentle care, fearful of disturbing him, she tucked the rug more closely across his knees. Recently she had grown more and more fond of him, he seemed to have taken the place of her own father and she found herself listening to his opinion and seeking his advice. Her complete absorption in her work and her ingrained love of country life soon banished the misgivings she had harboured when she had first returned to Weir Court; it seemed impossible to be anything but content and her troubles had been thrust resolutely aside. Indeed there was very little now to trouble her. Both Tony's and Alaine's letters from California positively exuded joy, and Alaine was ecstatic about both her home and her surroundings. Felicity sometimes wished she could have seen that home so vividly described by her brother and now by Alaine. She would have loved a peep at the white house and the orange groves on the hillside. Perhaps one day she'd get her wish.
Felicity no longer felt any regret for having left St. Edwin's. Fate had placed her here and like a straw in the wind she felt satisfied to be blown willy-nilly as Fate decreed. St. Edwin's would have seemed strange without Diana but now, her flirtations over, Diana was engaged to Philip and it was only a matter of weeks before she would be giving up her career to follow him to the Midlands, where he intended to settle down and practise.
Guy's presence at Weir Court was her only problem, but his visits had been rare and although his attitude towards her had been friendly, she was never sorry to see him leave. Now that the formality demanded by hospital etiquette no longer existed it made it more difficult than ever for her to adopt a casual and composed air, and the anticipation of each visit caused her both trepidation and doubt. Colonel Brenton's demands upon her attention had made it easy for her to refuse Guy's suggestions of riding or walking. How much she had longed to accept he'd never know, but the one thing she tried to avoid at all costs was any prolonged tete-a-tete.
The creaking of the wicker chair caught Felicity's wandering attention, Colonel Brenton had stirred and, fully awakened from his doze, he was pulling himself up in his seat. In a moment Felicity was at his side, arranging the cushions more comfortably. "You've been sleeping-enjoyed it?" she teased, then went on, "Now how about a hot drink-tea or something?"
"The unorthodox hours at which you young women drink tea quite stagger me." The twinkle in his eye belied his words. "Around half past eleven, isn't it? How about a glass of port and a biscuit. Sounds far more attractive to me."