A Mother's Sacrifice (33 page)

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Authors: Catherine King

BOOK: A Mother's Sacrifice
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‘Aye, you might be right.’
‘Why don’t you take some more, then?’
‘Don’t be daft, woman. Give it a chance to work.’ He lifted the candle again to look at her. ‘I’ve been away from you too long, that’s all.You are a bonny lass, I’ll say that for you. Come a bit nearer, so I can get a good look at you.’
Reluctantly she took a small step forward. ‘Mind the candle grease, Noah. I’ve got nothing on.’
But he kept looking at her, moving the light up and down and across her body.
She saw the corners of his mouth turn down and felt fear rising in her chest. ‘Hurry up, Noah. I’m all goose-pimply.’
‘I reckon you’ve been eating too much of my best beef.’
‘I told you, I’m not used to all the meat you have here.’
‘But even your titties are bigger. And you’ve got a right belly on you now.’ He pulled aside her arms and held the candle closer. ‘Right little pot belly that is. If you were one of my porkers I’d say you were well in pig.’ He laughed and she made an effort to laugh along with him. But she felt herself blushing.
Then he stopped laughing and his face went very still.‘You’re not, are you? By the Lord in heaven, you are! That’s a babby in your belly!’
She managed a nervous smile.There was absolutely no point in denying it now. ‘It’s what you want, isn’t it? Aren’t you pleased?’
His face darkened. ‘Well, I would be if it were mine. But it’s not, is it?’
Her voice was shaky. ‘Of course it is.Who else’s could it be?’
‘Don’t give me that. I haven’t had schooling like the gentry but I know what I have to do to get you with child. Same as my breeding bull.’
He reminded her of his prize bull. Thick-set and strong, waited on hand and foot, and easily riled if he was crossed. And she knew also that, when he was called on to do his duty, the bull was capable of missing his target in his greed to get at the cow. Just like Noah.
‘But I’m not one of your milkers.’ She laughed nervously.
He looked surprised at this and she realised that he did think of her in the same way as his cattle. He had married her for a reason. She was his wife for one purpose only.
‘No, you’re not!’ He had raised his voice. ‘Because if you were I’d know who had seeded you!’
‘You, Noah. Only you,’ she protested.
‘You little whore! Was it one of the village lads who help Seth in the fields?’ He grabbed her arm and yanked her towards him. ‘Let’s have a proper look at you.’ He did. He searched every inch of her naked body and then hit her across the face with the back of his brawny hand. ‘In calf, and not by me. I should have known better. I said you were a witch! Bewitched me right and proper, you did. There’s no wonder you wanted to wed me so soon. Aye and I thought it was because you wanted me.’
He laughed again, this time harshly and without mirth. ‘By the Lord, they say there is no fool like an old fool. Well, I’ll show you that you can’t make a fool out of old Noah. Just because my father came from peasant stock it doesn’t mean I can’t think for myself. Huh! I thought you were a harlot when you came over to accept my offer. On your own you were. And I was too besotted with the thought of you that I couldn’t stop myself. You would have let me bed you that afternoon, wouldn’t you, you deceitful little trollop? How far gone were you then? I’ve seen in church how big the lasses get with their bellies and I can count. My cows, my ewes and my old sow: I know how long it takes them and I know it for the womenfolk. That babby was in your belly afore we were wed. What I want to know is who put it there!’
She reeled from the blow and steadied herself on the wall. The air was chilly and without her chemise she felt exposed to his anger.Why had she ever thought she could deceive him? But she would have got away with it if he didn’t have his affliction. Well, she didn’t have to tell him who her baby’s father was and she wouldn’t! He would as likely kill the child when it was born if he knew the real father.
‘Well? Answer me!’
She remained silent.
‘Don’t tell me there were that many you don’t even know!’
‘Of course not,’ she retaliated. ‘There was only one.’
‘So you admit it then?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, you don’t have to tell me who if it happened last summer. It was that poacher, I’ll be bound. A gypsy! My wife has been with a gypsy!’
‘His father was from the Riding! And his mother was an Irish lady!’ she protested.
‘Not so much a lady if she let that cripple have his way with her!’ He stared at her, his sneer turning into a look of hatred. ‘Aye, it was that poacher right enough. He turned your head and you, you little whore, you let him bed you afore me. Afore me! Me, who you were promised to as a babby!’ The back of his heavy hand came down across her face again, making her head spin.
‘Noah!’ She wiped her hand across her brow and looked at the blood on her fingers. ‘Stop it. I am with child.’
‘Not my child! I’ll have no poacher’s bastard in my house. Nay! I’ll not have you here as my wife either.’
Now Quinta was really frightened. Surely he would not turn her out? ‘But this means I am not barren, Noah. Children are all you need from me. I’ll have more and they will be yours. You can have your own sons to work the farm with you and make you even richer.’
‘But how do I know they’ll be mine? How do I know who you’ll be going with while I’m out in the fields? If you’ve done it once to me, you’ll do it again. Womenfolk! You can never trust them and I want nowt to do with any of them. They’re harlots, the lot of them.’
Argument was futile. He was an old-fashioned country man steeped in his traditional beliefs. Ironically, she thought he would have approved of the Lammas Day arrangement if it had been with him. But she dare not tell him about that. She dare not say a word. She picked up her nightgown and put it over her head. Her hands and feet were freezing so she pulled on her stockings and walked around to the bed, intending to climb beneath the blankets.
‘Get out of here!’ he shouted. ‘I’ll not have a whore in my bed.’
She stopped pulling back the covers.
‘Go on! Get out of my sight!’ he repeated.
She gathered up her clothes and boots in silence and did as he demanded. Perhaps he would have calmed down in the morning. Perhaps whatever he had taken would have, like laudanum, worn off. Well, at least he knew about her child now. And she was his legal wife so surely he could not cast her out? He had made the vows, as she had. But she could not deny that she had deceived him most cruelly and he was right to be angry.
It was pitch black on the landing and she did not have a candle. She felt along the wall to the end window where a cold draught blew in from the gaps in the surrounding woodwork. Next to that was the room her mother had slept in; the chamber where she had nursed her and watched her die.
She had hoped for more years together before the consumption took her. But mother had been too weak to fight. The years since father had died had taken her strength and, yes, it was true, she had been five and thirty when Quinta was born. Women of that age giving birth were usually more robust, with a growing tribe of children fussing round them. Perhaps Mother had given life to her at the expense of her own wellbeing. That’s what mothers do. Quinta understood that now. She would do anything to protect her unborn child. Anything.
The bed had not been aired and she climbed reluctantly into the clammy sheets, drawing her knees up to her chest under her nightgown and wrapping her cold fingers in its folds. She didn’t care what Noah thought of her. It was his fault that Patrick had been sent away from her. Her life would have been so different with Patrick by her side and she ached to feel his arms around her, caressing her, kissing her and marvelling at their child growing inside her. He would have been so proud. She was glad that Noah could not do his duty as a husband. She did not want her body and her baby to be tainted by him and she thanked the Lord for his new potion.
However, she realised that it might wear off by morning and Noah might reconsider his decision to banish her from his bed. She was his wife and men were capable of using the act of procreation as a show of punishment instead of love. It would be worse than hell for her if he forced himself upon her now. She slipped out of bed and turned the key in the door before falling into a restless slumber.
 
It was still dark when the cock crowed and the cows sheltering in the barn lowed to be milked. Quinta tensed. Noah’s foot-steps on the landing brought her wide awake.The stairs creaked and she heard him draw the bolts on the front door.The house went quiet again. She washed and dressed quickly, then hurried downstairs to get the kitchen fire going and pump water in the scullery. She had a good heat and was sizzling fat bacon on a skillet when Noah came in through the scullery.
He brushed straw from his jacket on to the floor. ‘You can stay and housekeep for me until Lady Day.’
‘What then?’
‘I’m taking you away to the High Peak.’
‘Where you went shooting? You have family there?’
‘You know well enough I’ve got nobody.’
‘Then what - what will happen to me?’
‘You’ll be out of my road.’
‘You mean to hide me away?’
He didn’t reply at first. He just grunted at her and gave a kind of half-laugh. ‘I mean to rid myself of you.’
‘But you can’t just cast me aside. I am your wife.’
‘Aye, and we have a way of dealing with unfaithful wives where I come from.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’ll see.’
‘But, Noah, I shall be having my child soon.’
‘Aye. The babby’ll be welcome to somebody. There are not many womenfolk up there. The living is too raw for most of ’em.You’d best start getting used to it so when you’ve done in the house, take yourself off to the barn and start plaiting straw.’
Plaiting straw? She didn’t think any farmer did that these days. ‘What for?’ she demanded.
‘For a halter. Have you never heard of a straw halter?’
‘No, I have not. There is perfectly good rope and leather strapping in the stable. Please do not make me do this, Noah.’
‘You have said enough, madam. I am master in this house and my word is final.’
But Quinta did not feel inclined to accept his last word. He was a gentleman of the parish. She was his wife and he was treating her as a lowly servant girl. ‘I understand that this is my punishment, sir. Must I do it every day? The barn is cold at this time of year and working wet straw will make my fingers too sore for needlework.’
He raised his right arm across his body and glared. ‘You will do as I say, woman! Would you have me strike you again to gain your obedience?’
She squared her shoulders and faced up to his threat. ‘You are no gentleman, sir. I am your wife and I am with child.’
He did not lower his arm and his eyes glittered with anger. ‘And I am the wronged one here.You are a cheat and a harlot.’
She noticed his fist was clenched and knew he was capable of beating her. She looked at the floor.
‘That’s better,’ he growled. ‘You’ll be silent and serve my breakfast. Then get out of my sight.’
That afternoon, as she put straw to soak in a bucket of ice-cold water, she thought that he could have given her worse punishments. It was a small price to pay if she did not have to be a wife to him, although she was fearful of the future. Did he mean to abandon her and her child in the isolation of the High Peak? Or would he make her leave her baby behind when she returned? Well, she would never do that. She would refuse to be parted from him and Noah could not force her. But she wondered bleakly where he was taking her and whether other Peak dwellers were as pitiless as Noah.
The light failed early and he came out to the barn with a lantern to inspect her work, grunting wordlessly at her progress.
‘When do you plan to leave?’ she asked nervously.
‘We’ll set off just as soon as I’ve turned round here. Seth can run the farm as well as me, now.’
‘I should like to come indoors now.’
‘You can return tomorrow, at dawn, to light the range and do your chores.’
‘Surely you are not expecting me to sleep out here?’
‘It is good enough for my labourers at harvest-time.’
This was too much for Quinta to take. She stood up and brushed the straw from her skirt. ‘I am not a labourer and the nights are cold. I shall not stay.’
Her response surprised him and he blinked in the glow from the lantern. ‘Where’ll you go then?’ he scorned.
‘Miss Wilkins will take me in. She was very kind to Mother.’
He gripped her arm roughly. ‘You will not leave this farm until I take you away.’
‘Then treat me like your wife until then!’
‘You are no wife of mine!’ He pushed her away.
She stumbled and retaliated angrily, ‘And you have not been a husband to me!’
He was still for a moment and she went on quickly, ‘What will Seth say in the village when I tell him you have banished me to the barn?’
‘He is a loyal servant, which is more than you are.’
‘Does his loyalty extend to the alehouse on Saturday night?’
‘You are a witch! You will not poison his mind against me!’
‘I do not have to. Your actions do it for me.’
He was silent for a moment. Then he snarled, ‘I shall be well rid of you, madam.’ He grabbed her arm again and pushed her roughly towards the barn door. ‘Get inside and make sure I catch no sight or sound of you except at mealtimes.’
She retreated to her mother’s chamber and was thankful that it was away from Noah. Its warmth was welcome after an afternoon in the damp and draughty barn. It gave her time alone to think and she became anxious about her baby’s future. She recalled what the sergeant had told her mother about Patrick’s birth. His mother had been sent away. The child, when it was born, had been taken from her and farmed out.

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