∗ ∗ ∗
When she came round she was lying on a sofa, her legs raised slightly by the cushions.
As she struggled to remember what had happened, Saul’s voice from somewhere behind her right ear announced curtly,
‘I’ve sent for the doctor; he should be here soon.’
She panicked then, trying to sit up and assure him that she was perfectly all right, both at the same time. The resulting wave of sickness that engulfed her warned her of the folly of trying to do anything too abruptly. She felt extraordinarily weak and shaky, so much so that she said nothing as Saul sprang forward and eased her gently back on to the settee.
‘What… what are you doing here? I thought you were in America.’
‘I was,’ he agreed tersely.
‘Fanny’s going to marry Tom Bishop.’
What a ridiculous thing to be telling him when there was so much between them, Lucy thought wanly, closing her eyes against the mockery she was sure she would see in his. She wanted to get up and run away from him as fast as she could, but she simply did not have the strength.
‘You shouldn’t have called the doctor,’ she told him, ‘I’ll be all right in a moment. It was just the shock…’
‘Of seeing me?’
She could hear the derision in his voice and it hurt. She could feel the tears burning behind her eyes.
‘Lucy, I…’
The rough urgency in his voice made her open her eyes, but even as she did so they both heard the car outside, and he swore abruptly, striding towards the door.
‘This will be the doctor,’ he told her from the doorway. ‘Don’t try to move.’
He was back within seconds, the doctor behind him, but it was not plump, old-fashioned Dr Hartley, who she remembered from her childhood; it was a much younger man, who she realised must be his new partner.
‘Well, young lady. What have you been doing to yourself?’
‘She fainted,’ Saul told him quickly before Lucy could speak. She saw the doctor frown.
‘What happened? Did you have a fall? Bump into something?’
Saul was looking at her, and she licked her lips nervously, icy cold fingers of dread stroking chillingly up her spine. The darkness welled sickeningly around her again, and as she succumbed to it, grateful this time for its blanketing protection, she thought she heard Saul swear, his voice sharp with an anxiety she knew very well could not be for her.
This time when she came round she was in bed in her old bedroom at the Manor. The doctor was sitting in the window staring out of it, but as though some sixth sense alerted him to her recovery he turned and smiled reassuringly at her.
‘Don’t panic. There’s nothing really wrong with you… just a small vitamin imbalance, I suspect. Something that’s relatively common in pregnant women, although in your case…’ He frowned, and dread turned her heart over inside her.
‘You’re going to have to take things easy—especially in the last weeks of your pregnancy—no physical or mental exertion of any kind. You’re not married I take it?’ he asked bluntly.
Lucy shook her head.
‘Mmm… Anyone who can look after you?’
‘My aunt and uncle…’ Panic overwhelmed her as she demanded huskily, ‘My baby…’
His expression softened slightly. ‘You and your baby will both be fine, just so long as you’re sensible,’ he assured her. ‘But being sensible means not worrying—not rushing about exhausting yourself—especially in the last few weeks of your pregnancy. This particular deficiency can result in a premature birth—something we doctors like to avoid.’
He saw that she was looking thoroughly alarmed and added soothingly, ‘However, I’m sure you’re going to behave sensibly and there won’t be any problems. We’ll need to get you into hospital for a couple of days to check just how bad the deficiency is, so that we can decide how we’re going to tackle it—in mild cases, oral vitamin supplements are enough; in more serious ones we prefer to give intravenous shots.
‘My baby…’ she asked anxiously.
‘Will be fine,’ he repeated. ‘Just as long as you behave sensibly. Now, are you actually staying here, or…’
‘At the Dower House,’ Lucy told him tiredly. Her fainting attacks and constant tiredness were now taking on a more sinister meaning and she shivered a little despite the warmth of the quilt covering her.
‘Mmm. Well I’d prefer not to move you from here for today. I’ll come back and see you this afternoon—let you know what arrangements I’ve made with the hospital. Is there anyone at the Dower House who…’