to me this Red Room. My baquets will arrive tomorrow and I will wish to install them immediatement.”
“This way,” said Jennifer, and led him down the hall.
Dupin’s black eyes surveyed the room. It was indeed red, thought Jennifer. Except for the lack of a bed it might have been Madame’s bedchamber. Why no one had told the woman that this violent scarlet made her appear completely colorless, Jennifer did not know. But on reflection, she decided that perhaps such information had already been given to her employer and promptly discarded. It would certainly be no easy matter to tell Mrs. Parthemer something she did not wish to hear.
“This room will do nicely,” observed Dupin. “And the sitting room Madame mentioned?”
Jennifer opened the door to the adjoining room. By the standards of Seven Elms it was small, but to her it seemed rather cavernous.
“Excellent,” cried Monsieur. “Here we shall have the footmen remove the furniture and line the floor with the pads I have brought.”
Jennifer’s face reflected her bewilder-ment.
“This will be my crisis room,” Dupin informed her. “I see that you have not the knowledge of the master’s work. Into this room will be brought those patients who are having the convulsions.”
“Convulsions?”
Dupin nodded. “It is so. Sometimes one must get worse before she gets better. But it will be all apparent when we have the demonstration.”
“I do not believe that I shall be present for the demonstration,” she replied. “I have my duties to the children.”
“I shall see that you are free to come,” Dupin said and Jennifer, heart dropping, knew that further protest would be useless.
It was not until later, when Betty took Monsieur Dupin off to his room and relieved her of Peterkins, and Jennifer was thoughtfully preparing for bed, that she found herself wondering about Monsieur Dupin’s interest in her.
It might be attributed to the same motive as that which had animated the Earl of Linden, but somehow Jennifer doubted that. For all his dark good looks Monsieur Dupin was a practical man. And lust would never be allowed to interfere with his more profitable activities.
No, she thought as she tied her nightcap, blew out her lone candle, and crawled shivering under the featherbed, there was some other reason for the Frenchman’s interest in her. And whatever it was she did not like it.
Well, there was little point in trying to figure it out at that moment. It had been a long and somewhat difficult day, and with a sigh she closed her eyes and settled down to sleep, the last thing in her consciousness the vision of the friendly face of the Viscount Haverford.
Chapter Five
The morning air was quite invigorating and Jennifer drank it to its fullest. Out here, away from the constant strain of being always at Mrs. Parthemer’s beck and call, she could feel almost free.
As the little mare moved swiftly along, Jennifer’s thoughts went backward to her encounter with Lord Haverford. He had been so friendly, so at ease. How well he had managed to draw her out. And how well the children had taken to him.
Unconsciously she pulled up on the reins as though pulling up on her unruly thoughts. The little mare danced skittishly. “Sorry, girl,” said Jennifer with a wistful smile. “I was woolgathering. You’re doing just fine.”
She set herself, then, to focus on the beauty of the countryside. All around were trees and flowers in bloom. Their fragrance filled the air. From the distance came the song of a bird, in lilting notes proclaiming its joy at the fresh beauty of the day.
And then she heard the sound of a horse approaching from behind her. Someone else evidently liked an early morning ride. Or perhaps, she thought, suddenly, per-haps one of the children needed her. This caused her to turn in the saddle and instantly she colored up. It was not some groom from Seven Elms come to fetch her, but the blond and handsome Lord
“This way,” said Jennifer, and led him down the hall.
Dupin’s black eyes surveyed the room. It was indeed red, thought Jennifer. Except for the lack of a bed it might have been Madame’s bedchamber. Why no one had told the woman that this violent scarlet made her appear completely colorless, Jennifer did not know. But on reflection, she decided that perhaps such information had already been given to her employer and promptly discarded. It would certainly be no easy matter to tell Mrs. Parthemer something she did not wish to hear.
“This room will do nicely,” observed Dupin. “And the sitting room Madame mentioned?”
Jennifer opened the door to the adjoining room. By the standards of Seven Elms it was small, but to her it seemed rather cavernous.
“Excellent,” cried Monsieur. “Here we shall have the footmen remove the furniture and line the floor with the pads I have brought.”
Jennifer’s face reflected her bewilder-ment.
“This will be my crisis room,” Dupin informed her. “I see that you have not the knowledge of the master’s work. Into this room will be brought those patients who are having the convulsions.”
“Convulsions?”
Dupin nodded. “It is so. Sometimes one must get worse before she gets better. But it will be all apparent when we have the demonstration.”
“I do not believe that I shall be present for the demonstration,” she replied. “I have my duties to the children.”
“I shall see that you are free to come,” Dupin said and Jennifer, heart dropping, knew that further protest would be useless.
It was not until later, when Betty took Monsieur Dupin off to his room and relieved her of Peterkins, and Jennifer was thoughtfully preparing for bed, that she found herself wondering about Monsieur Dupin’s interest in her.
It might be attributed to the same motive as that which had animated the Earl of Linden, but somehow Jennifer doubted that. For all his dark good looks Monsieur Dupin was a practical man. And lust would never be allowed to interfere with his more profitable activities.
No, she thought as she tied her nightcap, blew out her lone candle, and crawled shivering under the featherbed, there was some other reason for the Frenchman’s interest in her. And whatever it was she did not like it.
Well, there was little point in trying to figure it out at that moment. It had been a long and somewhat difficult day, and with a sigh she closed her eyes and settled down to sleep, the last thing in her consciousness the vision of the friendly face of the Viscount Haverford.
Chapter Five
The morning air was quite invigorating and Jennifer drank it to its fullest. Out here, away from the constant strain of being always at Mrs. Parthemer’s beck and call, she could feel almost free.
As the little mare moved swiftly along, Jennifer’s thoughts went backward to her encounter with Lord Haverford. He had been so friendly, so at ease. How well he had managed to draw her out. And how well the children had taken to him.
Unconsciously she pulled up on the reins as though pulling up on her unruly thoughts. The little mare danced skittishly. “Sorry, girl,” said Jennifer with a wistful smile. “I was woolgathering. You’re doing just fine.”
She set herself, then, to focus on the beauty of the countryside. All around were trees and flowers in bloom. Their fragrance filled the air. From the distance came the song of a bird, in lilting notes proclaiming its joy at the fresh beauty of the day.
And then she heard the sound of a horse approaching from behind her. Someone else evidently liked an early morning ride. Or perhaps, she thought, suddenly, per-haps one of the children needed her. This caused her to turn in the saddle and instantly she colored up. It was not some groom from Seven Elms come to fetch her, but the blond and handsome Lord
Similar Books
