The Victorian Chaise-Longue by Marghanita Laski

Author:Marghanita Laski [Laski, Marghanita]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781906462277
Publisher: Persephone Books
Published: 2014-06-17T04:00:00+00:00

‘MILLY has dropped off,’ said Adelaide with relief in her voice, ‘so I think that perhaps – ’

‘I am not asleep,’ said Melanie wearily. Her eyes were wet with tears again when she opened them to see Adelaide and the Vicar standing beside her couch. She caught at his black frock-coat. ‘Do not go,’ she entreated, ‘please do not go until I have spoken with you.’

‘I did promise Miss Milly,’ said the Vicar. ‘So I think, if I may, Miss Adelaide? Just a few minutes? I promise not to tire her.’

‘We had better sit down again, then,’ said Adelaide with deliberate bad grace, and Melanie, still grasping Mr. Endworthy’s coat, threw all she had of passionate entreaty into her eyes.

With a rush of thankfulness she saw the response in his. She let her hand fall from his coat now, at last assured that his understanding was hers. ‘If you will forgive me, Miss Adelaide,’ he said gently, ‘I think I should talk to Miss Milly in privacy.’

Adelaide stiffened and said sharply, ‘Milly has no secrets from me.’ Why is she so frightened? Melanie wondered. She doesn’t know. I am sure she doesn’t know.

‘No one who recalls the many sacrifices you have made,’ said Mr. Endworthy to Adelaide, ‘can doubt the perfect understanding that exists between you two. But there are

times when even sisterly understanding – ’ He spoke very quietly and Melanie could not properly hear what he said. Was it ‘a soul and its Maker’? Was it ‘a soul so near its Maker’? What had Mr. Endworthy said?

‘Then I shall leave you, since you insist,’ said Adelaide, coldly unconvinced. She came past the Vicar to bend over Melanie and adjust her pillow, and, as she bent, Melanie heard, hissed into her ear, ‘Remember. You promised.’ Then before Melanie’s bewildered eyes could question her, she had swished about and gone, the door closing softly behind her.

To Melanie’s surprise, Mr. Endworthy looked at her quickly, then went behind her head to the door. She heard him open it and close it again, heard, as she had not heard when Adelaide shut it, the click of the latch. ‘These doors do not always shut properly,’ said Mr. Endworthy as if to himself, coming back past the chaise-longue. He set Adelaide’s chair beside it, then sat down and took Melanie’s hand, still drooping over the side of the couch, between his. ‘Now what is it?’ he said.

It was vital that it should be rightly said, impossible to know how to begin. Melanie gazed imploringly into Mr. Endworthy’s eyes, and involuntarily she began to tremble. ‘Now, now,’ said Mr. Endworthy gently. She opened her mouth and closed it again, and the dreadful shivering went on. ‘There now,’ said Mr. Endworthy, and he pressed her hand soothingly with his own soft white cushiony sexless hand. ‘Try to be calm, my dear,’ he said. ‘You will never tell me what troubles you unless you can calm yourself first.’

‘But it’s so important,’ Melanie whispered. She sighed once heavily, needing the breath, and after that the trembling ceased.

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