She could have made him understand, of course, if she’d had hours to spend explaining it to him. Thomas was a shrewd judge of the effects of language upon others, and he was — despite the silly exchange between herself and Michaela — never an unreasonable man. But there was no way to make him see it quickly and efficiently, and Thomas had no patience with long rambling speeches about subjects he had had no interest in in the first place. He was staring at her, and Clara knew that he was annoyed, and she felt as if she were going to strangle. I’m getting old, she thought, and I must be losing my wits along with my other youthful charms.
“Clara,” said Thomas, “I know you’re fond of Nazareth. But it was Nazareth who asked to go directly to Barren House, you know — it’s not as if Aaron had tried to send her there. I assure you, I would not have allowed him to do that, Clara. We are only doing what Nazareth, herself, asked for.”
“I know that, Thomas.”
“Then I truly do not understand why you are so upset.”
Michaela stepped smoothly into the widening breach, certain that Clara would welcome the help.
“Mr. Chornyak,” she said, all deference and propriety, “I think what’s worrying Clara is that Nazareth must just hear this news by wrist computer, without even a human face attached. Just that little tinny noise, saying that she’s being divorced and good riddance to her, if you see what I mean.”
“I don’t see what you mean,” Thomas answered. “She detests her husband, she doesn’t want to come home, and she’s being told that she doesn’t have to put up with either husband or Household for even one more day. It seems to me that she should be dancing in the halls. But as long as the two of you understand what you mean, it really doesn’t matter whether I do or not. I have never pretended to be an expert on the emotional notions of women.”
“Yes, sir,” Michaela said.
“Well? Have you and Clara got a solution to this dreadful difficulty that I’m too thick-headed even to perceive?”
“Mr. Chornyak, I need to see the hospital anyway — I should have gone over there long ago. I might need to send one of my patients there sometime, and I should at least be familiar with the place. Unless you have some objection, sir, I could take the message to Nazareth and have a look around the facilities at the same time.”
“I have no objection at all, Mrs. Landry,” said Thomas. “If you have the free time, and you feel it’s advisable, by all means go ahead.”
“Thank you, sir,” Michaela said. “And I have just one other item to talk to you about before I go, please.”
While Michaela was quickly outlining to Thomas the advantages of the new medication that justified the expense of its purchase, Clara slipped away without saying anything more, her gratitude written plainly in the set of her head and shoulders and the shaping of her hands.
The hospital was ugly, but then hospitals always were. Michaela had never worked in a luxury ward among the wealthy, but always in places like this. She paid very little attention to its looks, concerned only to make sure that it was clean — and it was. And she was equally unimpressed by the sass from the nurses.
“Either tell me at once, without any further nonsense, where Mrs. Adiness is, or I’ll call Thomas Blair Chornyak and tell him that you’ve misplaced her,” she told them. “Perhaps with his personal assistance we’d be able to locate her.”
“Well, there’s no need to be unpleasant!”
“You’re wasting my time, nurse, and your behavior is beneath contempt. You are here to serve, not to obstruct healing, and whether you happen to fancy a particular patient or not should not be your concern. Now take me to Mrs. Adiness.”
She was as skilled at genteel tongue-lashing laced with aristocratic venom as she was at listening to boring stories; it was one of the skills that the marital academies assumed a woman might need if she married into a wealthy family where human beings were still employed as domestic servants. The nurse recognized the tone without difficulty, and had had no training in defense against it… she came bustling out from behind her narrow counter, flushed and pouting, and took Michaela to Nazareth’s bed without asking any questions about the possible source of the authority in that voice.
“There,” she announced, pointing. “There she is. Somebody to see you, Mrs. Adiness.”
Michaela stared at her fixedly until she turned and flounced off, muttering about ingratitude and who did people think they were anyway; and then she turned to look at Nazareth.
“Mrs. Adiness,” she said courteously, “I’m Michaela Landry, the nurse that your father employs for Barren House. I’m ashamed to use the word ‘nurse’ after that specimen, but I promise you I’m not here to demonstrate the depths to which my profession sometimes manages to fall. I don’t think we’ve met except in passing… How do you do, Mrs. Adiness.”
She extended her hand, and Nazareth took it briefly, saying, “Yes, of course, Mrs. Landry, I remember you. It’s very kind of you to come by.”
She looked bruised, Michaela thought. If it were possible for someone to carry bruises of spirit and mind as well as body, she would be carrying them. Thin, ugly thin… a bad color, the characteristic unhealthy look of the cancer patient… and that skewered knot of hair. Even here. Poor thing.
“Mrs. Adiness,” she said, “it’s all right for you to go on to Barren House from here; they sent me to tell you. And your father asked me to come and help you… He didn’t want you to have to make the trip by yourself.” It was an easy lie, and it cost her nothing; she made a mental note to tell Thomas that she’d said it. And it ought to have been true, because this woman most certainly was not well enough to have left the hospital by herself and made her way to Barren House all alone. From the taut look of her she would have done it, and without a word of complaint, but she had no business making an effort of that kind. Or any other effort. Michaela wanted her tucked into a comfortable bed and under her care, and she wanted it fast. And as for the news about the divorce, she would pass that on after she had this woman comfortable, and sheltered, and away from prying eyes. Not one minute before.
“Mrs. Adiness…”
“Please, Mrs. Landry… call me Nazareth. I would prefer it.”
“As you like, ma’am, and you might consider calling me Michaela if that’s not awkward for you. Now, can you dress and get your things together while I arrange for a cab?”
“A cab?” Nazareth was astonished. “The robobus goes right by here.”
“Is that how you got here?”
“Of course,” Nazareth answered, and added, “And I don’t have any money.”
“Well, I do.”
“Money of your own?”
Michaela smiled. “It’s one of the few benefits of being both widowed and a nurse, Nazareth. My brother-in-law is my legal guardian, but he is required to leave me part of my salary since I don’t live in his home. I don’t have very much money, but I can manage the price of one short cab trip.”
“I can’t let you spend your money on me,” Nazareth objected immediately, and Michaela laughed at her.
“All right,” she said. “You are the lady of the house, and I am the employee, and I’m not about to cross you. I’ll get the cab for myself and let you take the bus, and I’ll be at Barren House before you. It will be so much nicer that way, not having to be crowded in the cab.”