ever pretended it, it would be short-lived and to serve some purpose of her own.
Hester watched her, and remained seated where she was, silently.
Louisa was looking out of the window at the sun on the grass. The light on her race betrayed no age lines yet, but there was a hardness to the expression she could not have noticed, or she would not have stood so. And there was a meanness in her thin upper lip.
"You wish me to allow it to be known in those social circles I frequent that I admire nursing as an occupation for a woman, and might have followed it myself, were I not married?" she asked. The humor of it still appealed to her, the amusement was there in her face.
"Indeed," Hester agreed. "Since quite obviously you could not do it now, no one can expect you to prove what you say by offering your services, only your support."
Laughter flickered over Louisa's mouth. "And you think they would believe me,, Miss Latterly? It seems to me you imagine them a little gullible."
"Do you often find yourself disbelieved, Mrs. Furnival?" Hester asked as politely as she could, given such a choice of words.
Louisa's smile hardened.
"No - no, I cannot say I can recall ever having done so. But I have never claimed to admire nursing before."
Hester raised her eyebrows. "Nor anything else that was an ... an extending - of the truth?"
Louisa turned to face her.
"Don't be mealymouthed, Miss Latterly. I have lied outright, and been utterly believed. But the circumstances were different."
"I am sure."
"However, if you wish, I shall do as you suggest," Louisa cut her off. "It would be quite entertaining - and certainly different. Yes, the more I think of it, the more it appeals to me." She swung around from the window and walked back across towards the mantel. "I shall begin a quiet crusade to have young women of breeding and intelligence join the nurses. I can imagine how my acquaintances will view my new cause." She turned swiftly and came back over to Hester, standing in front of her and staring down. "And now, if I am to speak so well of this wonderful career, you had better tell me something about it. I don't wish to appear ignorant. Would you care for some refreshment while we talk?"
"Indeed, that would be most agreeable," Hester accepted.
"By the way, who else are you approaching?"
"You are the only one, so far," Hester said with absolute veracity. "I haven't spoken to anyone else as yet. I don't wish to be blatant."
"Yes - I think this could be most entertaining." Louisa reached for the bell and rang it vigorously.
Hester was still busy recounting everything she could to make nursing seem dramatic and glamorous when Maxim Furnival came home. He was a tall, slender man with a dark face, emotional, and made in lines that could as easily sulk or be dazzlingly bright. He smiled at Hester and enquired after her health in the normal manner of politeness, and when Louisa explained who Hester was, and her purpose in coming, he seemed genuinely interested.
They made polite conversation for some little time, Maxim charming, Louisa cool, Hester talking more about her experiences in the Crimea. Only half her attention was upon her answers. She was busy wondering how deeply Maxim had loved Alexandra, or if he had been jealous over Louisa and the ease with which she flirted, her total self-confidence. She did not imagine Louisa being gentle, yielding with pleasure to other than the purely physical. She seemed a woman who must always retain the emotional power. Had Maxim found that cold, a lonely thing when the initial passion had worn off, and then sought a gentler woman, one who could give as well as take? Alexandra Carlyon?
She had no idea. She realized again with a jolt of surprise that she had never seen Alexandra. All she knew of her was Monk's description, and Rathbone's.
Her attention was beginning to flag and she was repeating herself. She saw it in Louisa's face. She must be careful.
But before she could add much more the door opened and a youth of about thirteen came in, very tall and gangling as if he had outgrown his strength. His hair was dark but his eyes were heavy-lidded and clear blue, his nose long. In manner he was unusually diffident, hanging back half behind his father, and looking at Hester with shy curiosity.
"Ah, Valentine." Maxim ushered him forward. "My son, Valentine,