The Mapping of Love and Death Read Online Free PDF Page B

from Canada?”
    “James is home?” She reached for her mug again. “Well, that is a surprise, given that he hates sailing in what he calls the ‘iceberg months.’ I thought he wouldn’t return until summer, and then perhaps not until next year.”
    “No, he’s back, and they say—them downstairs—that he’s back for good. There’s talk of the London house being opened up for him, and Lady Rowan is said to be very happy because his lordship is going to retire.”
    “Well, I never.” Maisie leaned back in her chair. “I don’t visit for a few weeks, and look what happens. I wonder how things might change around here.”
    “We all wonder. It’s like the changing of the guard—out goes one lot, and in comes another.”
    “I doubt it will be that bad. Lady Rowan loves Chelstone and hates going up to town now—even for the season.”
    “You watch. Next thing you know, James will be matched up, mark my words.”
    Maisie laughed. “He’s about thirty-six now, Dad, and he’s been engaged three times already. He won’t be easily pressed into marriage.”
    “Another one who lost his heart nigh on twenty-odd years ago.” Frankie shook his head and looked out of the window across the fields.
    “Well, that’s as may be.” Maisie stood up, rinsed her mug under thecold tap, and set it on the draining board. “Now then, I think I’ll nip up to see if I can have that word with Maurice’s housekeeper.”
     
    I s that Maisie?” Maurice’s voice could be heard calling from the conservatory as Maisie spoke with the housekeeper in the entrance hall.
    “One minute, Dr. Blanche.” Mrs. Bromley, the housekeeper, scurried away, returning a few minutes later. “He wants to see you now, Miss Dobbs. I was just about to bring him in from the conservatory—he does like to sit there until it’s dark, and even though it’s warm and we’ve plugged it up so there’s no drafts, I do worry about him. The nurse comes in at about eight o’clock—she should be here any minute—and makes sure he’s comfortable for the night, so you’ve time for a little chat. He’s been waiting for you to come home.”
    Come home. Even though she had her own flat in London, even though she was London born and bred, when she came to her father’s house, to all intents and purposes she was considered to be home. Maisie smiled. He’s been waiting for you to come home. It was true, she always felt a sense of belonging at Chelstone, and particularly when she reflected upon the hours spent with Maurice at The Dower House.
    Together with Mrs. Bromley, Maisie helped Maurice into a wheel-chair, then to his favorite chair alongside the fireplace in his study. As he sat down, she noticed how frail he looked. His shoulder blades seemed sharp against the fabric of his dressing gown, and his eyes milky, sunken like those of an old dog.
    “Maisie, I am so happy to see you.”
    “And you too, Maurice.” She leaned towards him, and they kissed on both cheeks. “I wish I had known that you were so poorly—I thought you were getting well again.”
    He lifted a hand towards the chair on the opposite side of the fire-place, Maisie’s usual seat; then he shook his head. “I did not want you to be worried, so I asked that you not be alerted to my ill health. I am sure that as soon as summer comes, I will be as fit as a fiddle.” He coughed, reaching into the pocket of his woolen cardigan for a handkerchief, which he held to his mouth. Maisie could hear the rasping in his chest, the wheeze as he caught his breath. “I beg your pardon.” He paused before continuing. “I saw the light from your torch as you came along the path. I’m glad you’ve come. Now then, Maisie, what is it you want to discuss? Give an old campaigner something to chew on; I’m fed up with being the resident invalid.”
    Maisie pulled an envelope from her pocket, slipped out Michael Clifton’s postmortem report, and passed the pages to Maurice, who squinted to see the