grate, hugged herself, and shivered.
Coals. Coals, fire, yes . They’d never done that before, only lit the grate at night.
He wished to say thank you, and could not say it. He nodded briefly.
She picked up the coat where he’d dropped it and offered it to him. As she held it out, he put his hand on the badly made collar, ran his finger down it, pointed at the clumsy buttonholes.
“Donderstan,” she said, looking up at him with a helpless expression.
He gritted his teeth and shivered. All right. Try again . He touched her sleeve, moved his forefinger up the underside of her arm, where the tiny stitches were invisible, neat and elegant, if plain, as her black dress and white collar were plain. Then he traced the same seam on the coat.
She looked from her own arm to the coat. She shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Doono.”
He gave it up, pulling the coat out of her hand and gesturing for her to leave, so he could dress. She just stood there. He took her by one shoulder, turned her, and pushed her toward the door.
“No.” She set her feet against him and turned back. “Thamus dress.”
Course dress yes, remove she, any female respectability understand . But she stood stubbornly. The Ape came clattering in with a pail of coals. Christian drifted back a little, away from him, prudent. The fire lit, they jabbered together, the Ape shrugged and nodded at whatever she said, gave Christian a carefully neutral glance, and closed the solid door as he left, blocking out the hall.
Christian stared at her. Not think… God’s sake… not suppose dress here full view she !
But she did. She walked right up to him and took hold of the buttons on the robe and began to flick them open as if she’d done it every day of her life.
Christian grabbed her wrist and thrust it away with an indignant sound. He gestured at the door, and gave her another light shove.
“Tha ish lark?” she asked.
He took a deep breath, straining for words. “Hunh…”
She didn’t seem to realize the depth of his disposition toward her—that he would go so far as to try to speak, to allow her to hear it. “Lark?” she said again, with her hand on the bell-lever.
He realized suddenly that she meant to call the Ape. “No!” He shook his head. “No.”
“Sikrunus.” She laid her hand on her breast. “Ver per-yence.”
A deep shiver went through him. He kept himself at a guarded distance from her.
“Nuse,” she said. “Thow. Nurs.”
Nurse.
Oh, dashed nurse, was it ? His nurse. And she supposed that just because she imagined herself a nurse, he would let her undress him as if he were some invalid child, did she?
Maddy was secretly relieved when that familiar ironic smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. Clearly he was probing her position; if Larkin and Cousin Edward came back and found him still in the dressing robe, she would look as if she had no authority over the situation. While Cousin Edward’s approval of her new responsibility was so precarious, she desperately wished to avoid any impression that Jervaulx was becoming more unmanageable rather than less under her influence.
It was more difficult than she’d expected, to keep plainly in mind that he acted out of adult reasoning which might not be obvious to her. This interest in the seams on her dress and his coat while he stood shaking with cold baffled her. She wished to get him into good warm clothing, with his hair drying in front of the fire—and then later this evening, after Larkin took her place, she intended to examine into the true nature of the therapeutic baths.
This time, when she picked up the shirt and went forward, Jervaulx stood still, allowing her to approach him. Maddy had dressed her father a thousand times; she had her own routine—a system that required him to sit down, which Jervaulx did docily enough when she motioned toward the bed, though he grimaced a little as he did it.
She began again to unbutton the robe. By the
Coals. Coals, fire, yes . They’d never done that before, only lit the grate at night.
He wished to say thank you, and could not say it. He nodded briefly.
She picked up the coat where he’d dropped it and offered it to him. As she held it out, he put his hand on the badly made collar, ran his finger down it, pointed at the clumsy buttonholes.
“Donderstan,” she said, looking up at him with a helpless expression.
He gritted his teeth and shivered. All right. Try again . He touched her sleeve, moved his forefinger up the underside of her arm, where the tiny stitches were invisible, neat and elegant, if plain, as her black dress and white collar were plain. Then he traced the same seam on the coat.
She looked from her own arm to the coat. She shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Doono.”
He gave it up, pulling the coat out of her hand and gesturing for her to leave, so he could dress. She just stood there. He took her by one shoulder, turned her, and pushed her toward the door.
“No.” She set her feet against him and turned back. “Thamus dress.”
Course dress yes, remove she, any female respectability understand . But she stood stubbornly. The Ape came clattering in with a pail of coals. Christian drifted back a little, away from him, prudent. The fire lit, they jabbered together, the Ape shrugged and nodded at whatever she said, gave Christian a carefully neutral glance, and closed the solid door as he left, blocking out the hall.
Christian stared at her. Not think… God’s sake… not suppose dress here full view she !
But she did. She walked right up to him and took hold of the buttons on the robe and began to flick them open as if she’d done it every day of her life.
Christian grabbed her wrist and thrust it away with an indignant sound. He gestured at the door, and gave her another light shove.
“Tha ish lark?” she asked.
He took a deep breath, straining for words. “Hunh…”
She didn’t seem to realize the depth of his disposition toward her—that he would go so far as to try to speak, to allow her to hear it. “Lark?” she said again, with her hand on the bell-lever.
He realized suddenly that she meant to call the Ape. “No!” He shook his head. “No.”
“Sikrunus.” She laid her hand on her breast. “Ver per-yence.”
A deep shiver went through him. He kept himself at a guarded distance from her.
“Nuse,” she said. “Thow. Nurs.”
Nurse.
Oh, dashed nurse, was it ? His nurse. And she supposed that just because she imagined herself a nurse, he would let her undress him as if he were some invalid child, did she?
Maddy was secretly relieved when that familiar ironic smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. Clearly he was probing her position; if Larkin and Cousin Edward came back and found him still in the dressing robe, she would look as if she had no authority over the situation. While Cousin Edward’s approval of her new responsibility was so precarious, she desperately wished to avoid any impression that Jervaulx was becoming more unmanageable rather than less under her influence.
It was more difficult than she’d expected, to keep plainly in mind that he acted out of adult reasoning which might not be obvious to her. This interest in the seams on her dress and his coat while he stood shaking with cold baffled her. She wished to get him into good warm clothing, with his hair drying in front of the fire—and then later this evening, after Larkin took her place, she intended to examine into the true nature of the therapeutic baths.
This time, when she picked up the shirt and went forward, Jervaulx stood still, allowing her to approach him. Maddy had dressed her father a thousand times; she had her own routine—a system that required him to sit down, which Jervaulx did docily enough when she motioned toward the bed, though he grimaced a little as he did it.
She began again to unbutton the robe. By the
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