Victoria and the Nightingale Read Online Free Page A

but the housekeeper didn’t sound as if she entirely understood.
    Victoria was groping her way through the confusion that clouded her brain.
    “How—how is he?” she asked huskily, remembering.
    Mrs. Grainge went across to the dressing table and
    started busying herself by altering the position of one of the cut-glass perfume bottles, and lifting the heavy silver-backed hand mirror from the tray. She replaced it after a moment, during which she had had time to make up her mind.
    “I don’t think Sir Peter has had any news from the hospital yet,” she said. “But he’ll tell you all about it when he does.”
    She returned briskly to the bedside.
    “Now, what would you like for breakfast?” she asked, the smooth and amiable mask on her face again. “I’m not going to let you get up yet, because I think you need a rest, and Dr. Brown wanted you to stay in bed until he’d seen you again. But I do think you need a good breakfast. What about scrambled eggs and some grapefruit beforehand? And coffee? Or would you prefer tea?”
    “Tea, please.” But Victoria struggled up on her pillows and felt certain that she ought to get up at once and satisfy herself about Johnny’s condition. After all, he was surrounded by strangers, and he was not the type to make friends easily. “I ought to see Johnny—”
    “After breakfast, if the doctor allows it.” Mrs. Grainge was quite firm, but she smiled pleasantly. “You must think of yourself as well as the child, you know.”
    “But he’s had a dreadful shock, and I’m the only one he knows. I ought to be with him.”
    “You can safely leave him to us. And believe me, he’s not at all unhappy.” Mrs. Grainge unhooked a dressing gown from off the door, and laid it across the foot of the bed in readiness for Victoria to slip into. “Miss Islesworth lent you this, and there are a lot of other things belonging to her in the wardrobe that you can wear if you want to. I’m afraid your own clothes are in a very bad condition.” For the first time that morning she looked at the girl in the bed with real sympathy in her eyes. “That was a dreadful accident you were involved in, and there’s a lot of blood and oil on your things.”
    “Blood and oil?” Victoria began to feel faint again. “But Johnny and I were practically unhurt....”
    Mrs. Grainge spoke quickly.
    “There, there, perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned it! And in any case, we can’t be absolutely certain that it’s blood. It could be marks from the road.” She was startled by the expression in Victoria’s eyes, and she hurried out of the room. “I’ll get your breakfast,” she muttered as she went.
    As soon as she was alone Victoria made a supreme effort and eased herself out of bed. Every bone in her body felt like an aching tooth, and she felt a little dizzy when she stood up. But her head was comparatively clear again.
    She slipped into the dressing gown, and it was the first time in her life that she had donned anything so luxurious so early in the morning. It was a white silk sheath, and when it was fastened round her she realized that the fit was perfect. She and Miss Islesworth must be almost the same build.
    She opened the door of the wardrobe and saw the clothes that had been put there for her. They, too, were unlike anything she had ever worn before. Under normal circumstances she would have been thrilled by the thought of wearing them. But now she was consumed by the urgent desire to dress and face the world, and she wasn’t at all sure how she was going to manage on her own.
    She moved slowly and painfully across the thick carpet until she stood in front of the dressing table, and she looked at herself in the mirror. Her reflection startled her. She had no color at all, and her eyes looked enormous. Normally they were blue—a dreamy, delightful blue; but with distended pupils and darkened irises they could have been black.
    Her small, heart-shaped face looked wan and pinched, and the