Sandra Heath Read Free Page A

was always simply called Nurse, even by those for whom she had never performed such a role.
    Charlotte sighed. “Well, that was my original intention, but she has at long last decided she is too old to continue, and anyway Russell insists upon Dr. Hartley, who aspires to be something of an accoucheur.” Charlotte winced once more as the baby moved. “Oh Lord, he or she is very active tonight.”
    “Would you like me to bring you a glass of water?”
    “Water? At a New Year’s Eve ball? Heaven forfend.” Charlotte smiled, and signaled a footman to bring glasses of champagne.
    “Russell’s finger will wag if he catches you with champagne.”
    “My dear husband is a great trial to me at the moment. Do you know, he even attempted to make me stay in this morning instead of joining everyone for the walk on the cliffs?”
    “Well, it was rather cold,” Henrietta said, putting her fan in her lap in order to take the glass with her left hand.
    Charlotte looked anxiously at her bandage. “How is your poor wrist? I do hope it isn’t too uncomfortable. It was a very unpleasant fall.”
    “I’ll survive, even if I did nearly go over the cliff. I vow your skill with dressings is nothing short of miraculous, and as to the finishing touch of my diamond pin ...” Henrietta smiled, and raised her wrist so the light caught the little diamond brooch securing the bandage.
    Charlotte chuckled. “Miraculous? Oh, I wouldn’t go that far, but I have to say I’m usually quite good.” Her smile faded. “I still can’t really understand how you slipped like that. One moment we were all walking along the top of cliffs, the next you were sprawling on the ground and had almost gone over the edge!”
    Henrietta shivered as she recalled those dreadful moments. “There must have been a little patch of ice,” she said, although privately she was only too aware that someone in the party had stumbled awkwardly against her. She didn’t know who it was, and because she was sure it had been entirely accidental, she didn’t intend to cause any distress by mentioning it.
    “Ice? Yes, I suppose so. Anyway, you survived the incident. Now I come to think of it, you’ve been disaster prone ever since you arrived here.”
    “I wasn’t exactly safe and sound in London,” Henrietta replied. “My horse bolted in Hyde Park and I almost fell through a trapdoor at a fabric warehouse.”
    Charlotte was horrified. “Oh, Henrietta, how dreadful! Bad luck certainly seems to dog you at the moment, doesn’t it? There was that runaway carriage that almost ran you down while you were traveling here, then the piece of falling masonry on Christmas Eve, to say nothing of the shellfish supper that so disagreed with you and you alone.”
    “Don’t forget the lace snapping on my walking shoe,” Henrietta teased.
    “Oh, you may think it amusing, but yes, given everything else, the broken lace should be included.”
    Henrietta was patient. “Charlotte, it was only a broken lace. They do break, you know. I even recall it happening to you on occasion.”
    “I suppose so,” Charlotte admitted, then glanced at her again. “Why you and dear Amabel walked all the way to St. Tydfa’s churchyard when you could easily have ridden, I really don’t know.”
    Henrietta ignored the acid reference to Amabel. “After all the rich Christmas food, we felt in need of the exercise, although, to be truthful, we did misjudge the distance.” Henrietta recalled how, after climbing the long flight of steep stone steps from the lych-gate, she and Amabel Renchester had rested in the church porch before commencing the long walk home. The steep churchyard steps were slippery because yew trees shaded the overnight frost from the winter sun. Her lace had suddenly snapped, and she’d fallen very heavily, tumbling down at least ten steps before she managed to halt the fall by grabbing a low-hanging branch. She’d only suffered bruises and the indignity of having to hire a