over an atlas. ‘Would you be very kind,’ she said to him, ‘and find Lieutenant Lloyd Williams for me?’
‘Of course, my lady,’ said the man, closing the book. ‘What’s the message?’
‘Ask him if he would come down to the basement for a moment.’
‘Are you all right, ma’am? You look a bit pale.’
‘I’ll be fine. Just fetch Williams as quickly as you can.’
‘Right away.’
Daisy returned to her rooms. The effort of seeming normal had exhausted her, and she lay on the bed. Before long she felt the blood soaking through her dress, but she hurt too much to care. She looked at her watch. Why had Lloyd not come? Perhaps the sergeant could not find him. It was such a big house. Perhaps she would just die here.
There was a tap at the door, and then to her immense relief she heard his voice. ‘It’s Lloyd Williams.’
‘Come in,’ she called. He was going to see her in a dreadful state. Perhaps it would put him off her for good.
She heard him enter the next room. ‘It took me a while to find your quarters,’ he said. ‘Where are you?’
‘Through here.’
He stepped into the bedroom. ‘Good God!’ he exclaimed. ‘What on earth has happened?’
‘Get help,’ she said. ‘Is there a doctor in this town?’
‘Of course. Dr Mortimer. He’s been here for centuries. But there may not be time. Let me . . .’ He hesitated. ‘You may be haemorrhaging, but I can’t tell unless I look.’
She closed her eyes. ‘Go ahead.’ She was almost too scared to be embarrassed.
She felt him raise the skirt of her dress. ‘Oh, dear,’ he said. ‘Poor you.’ Then he ripped her underpants. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Is there some water . . . ?’
‘Bathroom,’ she said, pointing.
He stepped into the bathroom and ran a tap. A moment later she felt a warm, damp cloth being used to clean her.
Then he said: ‘It’s just a trickle. I’ve seen men bleed to death, and you’re not in that danger.’ She opened her eyes to see him pulling her skirt back down. ‘Where’s the phone?’ he said.
‘Sitting room.’
She heard him say: ‘Put me through to Dr Mortimer, quick as you can.’ There was a pause. ‘This is Lloyd Williams. I’m at Ty Gwyn. May I speak to the doctor? Oh, hello, Mrs Mortimer, when do you expect him back? . . . It’s a woman with abdominal pain and vaginal bleeding . . . Yes, I do realize most women suffer that every month, but this is clearly abnormal . . . she’s twenty-three . . . yes, married . . . no children . . . I’ll ask.’ He raised his voice. ‘Could you be pregnant?’
‘Yes,’ Daisy replied. ‘Three months.’
He repeated her answer, then there was a long silence. Eventually he hung up the phone and returned to her.
He sat on the edge of the bed. ‘The doctor will come as soon as he can, but he’s operating on a miner crushed by a runaway dram. However, his wife is quite sure that you’ve suffered a miscarriage.’ He took her hand. ‘I’m sorry, Daisy.’
‘Thank you,’ she whispered. The pain seemed less, but she felt terribly sad. The heir to the earldom was no more. Boy would be so upset.
Lloyd said: ‘Mrs Mortimer says it’s quite common, and most women suffer one or two miscarriages between pregnancies. There’s no danger, provided the bleeding isn’t copious.’
‘What if it gets worse?’
‘Then I must drive you to Merthyr Hospital. But going ten miles in an army lorry would be quite bad for you, so it’s to be avoided unless your life is in danger.’
She was not frightened any more. ‘I’m so glad you were here.’
‘May I make a suggestion?’
‘Of course.’
‘Do you think you can walk a few steps?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Let me run you a bath. If you can manage it, you’ll feel so much better when you’re clean.’
‘Yes.’
‘Then perhaps you can improvise a bandage of some kind.’
‘Yes.’
He returned to the bathroom, and she heard water running. She sat upright. She felt dizzy, and rested for a
