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Authors: Pauline Ash

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BOOK: Seaside Hospital
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“I want you to talk to little Michael’s mother, Nurse,” Sister said. “In spite of the publicity the press is giving to the child’s recovery, we’re not out of the woods yet. I want you to find out what’s bothering her, because we can’t let anything interfere with that child's chances. Besides, there’s the question of what will happen to him when we discharge him.”

That was worrying them all, for his mother had admitted that she had been living in hotels, and would not disclose where Michael had been living.

“I told Sister,” she said, when Lisa tackled her ab
o
ut it. “I stayed near the hospital hoping for news, and as soon as I heard he was so ill, I came. Now he’s on the mend. What more does she want to know?”

“Michael’s asking for his father,” Lisa reminded her.

She shrugged. “His father won’t come, because of all this newspaper publicity. He held me back. He forbade me to come. He said he must see his mother first. That’s why I didn’t come before.”

She sat half-turned from Lisa, so that she would not reveal how near to breaking down she was.

“Surely something could be done,” Lisa murmured. “Could I go and see him, try to persuade him to come?” she asked, without much hope.

“You’d never be allowed to get near him.”

“What’s his name?” Lisa pressed.

“Trent Holland.”

“Where does he live? In London?”

“No. He’s staying in Barnwell Bay,” was the surprising answer. “That’s how
I
m
anaged to see him that day. He’s here on business. If you must know, he was down here for the races, and he’s still at the Royal Hotel.”

Lisa’s hopes died. If the man was so near and still hadn’t come forward to see his son, what hope had she?

And then an idea struck her. When she got her next free time, she wrapped the brooch in its velvet case, addressed it to Mr. Trent Holland and had it sent up to his room at the hotel.

Almost at once she was asked to go to a suite on the first floor. There she found a man of much the same type as Ellard Lindon: smartly dressed, assured in manner, with a lean, good-looking face and cold gray eyes.

“Where did you get this?” he demanded, taking in the details of her nurse’s uniform and her serene, lovely face.

“It was found,” she said carefully, “near the seat on the front where you had been sitting talking, the day that little Michael was run over and nearly lost his life. I’ve only
just ...
come by it. The person who found it didn’t know what to do about it.”

“It could have been turned in to the police,” he coldly reminded Lisa.

“Would you have wanted that?” she countered. “Mr. Holland, I work in the children’s ward. We nearly saw that little child’s life flicker out. His mother’s there with him now, but he wants his daddy. Won’t you go to him?”

“Oh, if that’s what you’ve come for, why didn’t you say so at first?” he said harshly.

Lisa looked steadily at him, unconsciously pleading with her lovely eyes. Then, when it seemed to her that her visit had been useless, she looked down at the brooch in its case and reflected that though it might have been a good way to get it back safely to him for Jacky’s sake, the gift itself might have been a bitter reminder of the quarrel he had had that day, and its return to him might have done more harm than good.

With a sigh, she turned and walked sadly to the door. She left the hotel in despair. She had failed, and her failure might well reflect on other people’s efforts to get this man to his son’s bedside. At least she could understand now how Trent Holland could have acted so unfeelingly. How could any woman devote herself to such a cold, hard man?

Lady Frenton’s party to raise money for Randall’s clinic was a brilliant affair. Jacky, in a gold and green dress, mingled with the guests like a gorgeous butterfly.

Lisa had received a call from Sir Jules asking her to attend the party. He wanted to discuss the jewelry thefts. So Lisa had finally consented to attend with Derek.

The first person Lisa saw when she and Derek walked in was Randall Carson, looking extremely handsome in his white tie and tails, and talking to Thalia.

It was not long, however, before Lisa saw Randall striding toward her. “I wanted to tell you,” he said, as they started to dance, “how much I appreciate what you’ve done for the Holland child. Did you know that the father had come after all?”

Lisa looked up, her face radiant. “Oh, I’m so glad, so—” and she had to bite her lip because her jubilation brought her very near to tears. Perhaps, she thought, Trent Holland was not so unfeeling after all. But
...
the things some people would do when money was at stake!

“Oh, let’s get out of here, Lisa! I want to talk to you. I wanted to talk to you in the grounds last night, but apparently I came at the wrong moment,” Randall said savagely.

They left the ballroom and went through into a small book-lined room, which was empty and quiet. Randall took her by the shoulders. “Lisa, that chap Frenton. What does he mean to you? If you’re going to marry him, then I’ll understand, only tell me!”

“I’m not going to marry him!” Lisa said wildly. “He jilted me, but his father wants us to marry, and I don’t love him any more, but he won’t believe me.”

“Is that really true, Lisa?”

“You mean because you saw him kissing me? I was furious with him for that, but he just won’t believe I don’t still care for him.”

“And yet you came tonight, knowing that?”

Lisa looked oddly distressed. “I had a reason for coming,” she said hesitantly. “Nothing to do with Derek.”

There was an awkward silence. Suddenly the door was wrenched open, but the person who was about to come in stayed outside, holding the door still slightly open, and began to talk to someone near at hand. “Well, there’ll be trouble this time. It’s not just a brooch or clip, it’s a bracelet, all rubies. And the thief is in this house.”

Randall looked slowly down at Lisa, whose face was ashen, and he was just in time to catch her as she slumped against him.

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Lisa opened her eyes to find she was on a couch in the corner of the little room. Randall was bending over her, holding a glass to her lips. Just beyond him she could see Thalia Frenton, in her filmy dress of three shades of pink. Lisa’s first confused thought was that she had never seen Thalia look quite so radiant. She was almost good-looking tonight.

“How are you, Lisa?” Thalia asked gently.

“I’m all right now,” Lisa said, struggling to get up, but Randall pushed her back gently and made her finish the stinging liquid in the glass.

“There’s certainly some color in your cheeks,” he observed, “but I think you’d better rest for a little while.”

He stood up and looked at Thalia.

“I think I’d better go now, Randall, if you don’t mind,” she said. “There isn’t much time, and I don’t want—” She broke off and bit her lip, looking uncertainly at Lisa.

“It’s all right, my dear girl,” Randall said heartily. “You run along, and every wish in the world for your happiness. Off you go, and don’t think another thing about it. I’ll fix everything with your mother.”

“Tell her I’ll write,” Thalia murmured, and flashing him a brilliant smile, she suddenly leaned forward and brushed his cheek with her lips before hurrying away.

Randall turned to Lisa, a faint smile still touching his mouth. “There’s one young woman happy,” he murmured. “Now, let’s talk about
you,
Lisa. What made you faint just now?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Lisa said evasively, longing to tell him the truth, yet feeling that she had no right to presume on his kindness since she had come to the conclusion that he wasn’t in love with her. “It was the heat of this room, I expect.”

“In other words, you don’t want to tell me. Oh, very well, it doesn’t matter,” he said, though he sounded unaccountably displeased.

“Randall, it isn’t that,” she said, anxiously. “It’s just that—oh, did I dream it, or did someone start to open the door and come in, just before I passed out?”

“They did,” he said rather g
r
imly.

“Who was it?”

“It was Sir Jules’s secretary. Did you hear what he said?” She bit her lip and turned away. Something had been said about a valuable bracelet—a ruby bracelet—being stolen, and that there would be trouble about it this time. The question as to whether Jacky had stolen it flashed through Lisa’s mind, but try as she would, she could not bring herself to reject the idea. But would Jacky be so foolish as to steal something else, so soon, after Lisa had undertaken to get the brooch back to Trent Holland, its rightful owner?

Lisa didn’t know. Passing a weary hand over her head, she struggled to her feet. Somehow, she determined, she must get to the ballroom, find Jacky and ask her about it outright.

“Sure you feel like making a move?” Randall asked, watching her closely.

“Yes, I’m all right now. I—I expect Derek’s looking for me.”

“Then don’t let me keep you from him, although you assure me you’re not engaged to him any longer,” Randall said coldly.

He walked beside her back to the ballroom. There was no commotion, she saw to her surprise. She wondered whether they were keeping the theft quiet until afterward, in order to save the party from being spoiled. Puzzled, she looked around. Jacky, her brilliant smile lighting up her little face, was dancing with Derek. Randall saw them almost as soon as Lisa did, and he smiled down at her.

“Your partner seems to have forgotten all about you,” he said. “Shall we dance instead?”

“No. No, I don’t think I quite feel up to it. You go and dance with someone, Randall.”

He would not leave her, and he kept looking at his watch. Lady Frenton, looking bothered and rather angry, approached him later, but by that time Randall was looking completely satisfied and smiled almost gaily at her.

“Randall, there you are! I’ve been looking for you,” she said, staring at Lisa with a frown.

“What can I do for you, Lady Frenton?” Randall said.

“You’re looking very pleased with yourself! Have you been with my daughter, Thalia? If so, where is she now? I want her! I want both of you!”

For a second Randall looked startled, and then, with a final glance at his watch, he said, “Thalia couldn’t wait to tell you about it. She had to go.”

Lisa, completely mystified, saw Lady Frenton’s face change; it suddenly became pinched and rather old.

“Go? Go where?”

“She seemed to think you would know where she had gone,” he said, “but I understand that there will be a letter for you in the post. She’s very happy, Lady Frenton,” he finished gently.

Lady Frenton looked up searchingly into his eyes. “It’s that Paul Winters,” she said at last in a bitter voice. “That’s it, isn’t it? She’s eloped with him. On this day of all days, when I wanted to announce her engagement to—” She broke off, biting her lip, and Lisa realized with horror that Lady Frenton had been going to push Randall into an announcement of an engagement to Thalia, in return for all her financial help for his clinic.

“You did this!” Lady Frenton said, staring at Randall angrily. “You helped her, didn’t you?”

Before Randall could answer, Sir Jules came up to his wife, and with a brief “Excuse me,” drew her away. As they went, Lisa heard him say, “The bracelet’s gone, but I don’t want a fuss made, understand? Carry on as if nothing has happened.”

And then Randall swept her onto the dance floor, with a murmured, “Let’s dance.”

Thalia and her elopement faded from Lisa’s aching head, and all that remained was the shattering thought that somehow this theft of the bracelet was no ordinary one. There was something about it that caused Sir Jules to want it kept a secret—and if Jacky had indeed taken it, there was danger for her, great danger.

A little later on, Sir Jules asked Lisa to dance with him. The way he looked at her, when he asked her, made her heart start to pound.

“All right, lass, don’t panic,” he said. “I’ll own I want to talk to you about something, but that’s not the only reason I asked you to dance with me.”

“What other reason is there, Sir Jules?”

“Why, because I like you, lass, and because you look a real little beauty in that blue frock. Aye, I like girls to look feminine. I’ve no patience with these tight black skirts they wear. Give me a nice blue or pink, lots of frills and such.”

“Why, Sir Jules!” Lisa laughed, but she was still uneasy, because behind his smile the kind eyes were serious. “And what was the other reason?”

“Why, lass, see here, in this house you can’t talk without being interrupted, like last time you were just going to tell me something interesting. I reckoned they wouldn’t interrupt us while we’re dancing.”

“I don’t remember what I said.”

“Then I’ll refresh your memory. I think you were going to tell me something about this person you’re shielding who took my wife’s clip and then got cold feet and asked you to return it.”

“I think I told you all I meant to, Sir Jules.”

“Then I’ll have to try and get you to tell me some more now, won’t I, lass?” he said gently. “Think of me as your friend. I am, you know. I don’t want to get you into trouble, nor the one you’re so keen on. I just want to help and to clear all this trouble up.”

“You could do that, Sir Jules, if you were to ask Lady Frenton to keep her valuable things under lock and key.”

“Maybe, but that wouldn’t help you. The one you’re shielding would look elsewhere for things to steal,” he said bluntly. “It’s not my boy, is it?”

Her head shot up. “He said you thought it was him. How could you think that of your own son?”

“I could,” he said steadily. “It wouldn’t mean I’d love him less, but the boy’s a fool and lazy into the bargain. If he’s not guilty, then all I can say is, I’m very glad to hear it. Who is it, then? Yourself? ... Nay, lass, I know it isn’t you, I just wanted to shock you into coming straight out with who it was,” he said contritely.

BOOK: Seaside Hospital
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