A Sudden, Fearful Death

Both Hester and Kristian waited for her to continue, but she did not. Left as it was it sounded bare, and a little trite, hot like Callandra at all.

"Does…" She looked at Kristian directly. "Does Jeavis disturb you?" This time her eyes searched his face.

"I dislike being suspected," he answered frankly. "But I know the man is only doing his duty. I wish I had some idea what actually happened to poor Nurse Barrymore, but hard as I think, nothing conies to me."

"There are innumerable reasons why someone might have killed her," Callandra said with sudden ferocity. "A rejected lover, a jealous woman, an envious nurse, a mad or disaffected patient, all sorts of people." She finished a little breathlessly, and without looking at Hester.

"I expect Jeavis will have thought of those things too."

Kristian pulled a slight face. His eyes never left Callandra's. "I hope he is pursuing them with equal diligence. Do you wish to speak to me about something? Or did we merely bump into you?"

"Just… chance," Callandra replied. "I am-on my way to see the chaplain."

Kristian bowed very slightly and excused himself, leaving Hester and Callandra alone in the corridor. Apparently without realizing it, Callandra watched him until he turned the corner into a ward and disappeared, then she looked back at Hester.

"How are you, my dear?" she asked with a sudden gentleness in her voice. "You look very tired." She herself looked exhausted. Her skin was pale and her hair wilder than ever, as if she had run her fingers through it distractedly.

Hester entirely dismissed her own feelings. There was obviously some deep trouble in Callandra and her whole concern- was how to help. She was uncertain as to whether she should even acknowledge that she was aware of it, much less ask what it was. Something in Callandra's manner made her feel it was private, and in all possibility that was part of its burden.

She made herself assume a casual expression.

"I'm tired at the moment," she acknowledged. There was no point in a lie; it would be unbearably patronizing. "But the work is most rewarding. Sir Herbert really is a brilliant surgeon. He has not only skill but courage."

"Yes indeed," Callandra agreed with a flash of enthusiasm. "I hear he is high in line for appointment as medical adviser to someone in the Royal household-I forget whom."

"No wonder he is looking pleased with himself," Hester said immediately. "But I daresay it is well deserved. Still, it is a great honor."

"Indeed." Callandra's face darkened again. "Hester, have you seen William lately? Do you know how he is doing-if he has learned anything… pertinent?" There was an edge to her voice and she looked at Hester with a nervousness she failed to conceal.

"I haven't seen him for a day or two," Hester replied, wishing she knew what better to say. What troubled Callandra so much? Usually she was a woman of deep sensitivity, of empathy and a great will to fight, but for all that, there was an inner calm in her, a certainty that no outside forces could alter. Suddenly that peace at the core of her was gone. Whatever it was she feared had struck at the root of her being.

And it concerned Kristian Beck. Hester was almost sure of that. Had she heard the rumors of his quarrel with Prudence and feared he was guilty? Even so, why would that cause her anything but the same grief it would bring everyone else? Why should it disturb her in this quite fundamental way?

The answer was obvious. There was only one possibility in Hester's mind, one reason such a thing would have disturbed her. Her mind flew back to a bitter night during the siege of Sebastopol. The snow had been deep, muffling the hills in white, deadening sound, laying a biting cold upon everything. The wind had got up so it bit through the thin blankets the men huddled in, shuddering with cold. Everyone was hungry. Even now she could not bear to think of the horses.

She had thought herself in love with one of the surgeons-although what was the difference between being in love and thinking yourself so? Surely an emotion is the same whether it lasts or not-like pain. If you believe you hurt, you feel it just the same.

It was that night that she had realized he had been so terrified on the battlefield that he had left wounded men to die. She could still remember the agony of that discovery now, years after she had ceased to feel anything for him except compassion.

Callandra was in love with Kristian Beck. Of course. Now that she realized it, she wondered how she had ever failed to see it. And she was terrified that he was guilty.

Was that merely because of Jeavis's suspicions over the half-heard quarrel? Or had she learned something further herself?