Abbeyford Remembered (14 page)

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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

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Lloyd was down from his horse in an instant and striding towards her. “Ach, me darlin', what have you been doin' to yourself?”

Her head rose in defiance. “I've been nursing the sick, it's my duty, Lloyd. Our duty. We cannot leave these people to die alone – out here in the jungle.”

“If you don't leave – and now,” Captain Richmond's voice was insistent, “you will all be dead!”

“I may already have the disease on me,” Carrie said calmly. “ Do you wish me to be the cause of an epidemic in Calcutta?”

The Captain shrugged, whilst Lloyd murmured, “But I should get you away from here.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Lloyd,” Carrie snapped, impatient with all the arguing. “ Of course I shan't get the disease now. I must have an immunity to it. Good grief, haven't I nursed enough sickness with my own brothers?”

But their problem was solved for them in an unexpected way. That night the Indian servants who had not fallen sick fled the camp, and by the morning Carrie and Lloyd found themselves the only two healthy people in the camp. By evening the sick had died, and so there was now no reason for them to remain in camp.

“Leave everything,” Captain Richmond, who had again come to visit them, insisted. “ Just come home with me and we will engage more servants and workmen for you in Calcutta. No need to tell them you've had the disease here. They'll come back with you in due course.”

“Aye, maybe you're right at that,” Lloyd Foster agreed, though there was a reluctance in his eyes.

Back in the comfortable surroundings of the house in Garden Reach, Carrie found herself once more cosseted and waited upon. Neither she nor Lloyd contracted cholera and after a few days Captain Richmond insisted that they should use their enforced holiday to become acquainted with some of the Europeans in Calcutta.

“Many of the wealthy merchants are anxious to meet you, Foster,” he told Lloyd. “They look upon your railway as a means of transport which will bring greater profits for them, and they wish to show you their hospitality.”

So, thought Carrie, it still went on, even out here in India. Men using one another for their own ends. Even though her feelings towards her husband had mellowed considerably through his goodness to her, she could never forget how he and her own father had used Jamie Trent's grandfather – who was her own grandfather too, she remembered suddenly – a drunken, defenceless, old man – to gain possession of his land for the railway.

“Ah, well, dat's good to be sure, but I should be getting back to me railway …”

“Oh, surely not. You've not yet found all the men you need, have you?” He glanced sideways at Carrie. “Besides, your wife deserves a change of scene from the nightmare of that camp!”

Lloyd's eyes rested upon his wife. “Well, you're right there, I'm thinkin'.”

So they allowed themselves to be swept once more into the social life of the wealthy Europeans in Calcutta. But Carrie was not taken in by it. All this wealth, she thought, and there's people starving in the streets below, dying of dreadful diseases and living in squalor. She sighed. Life, it seemed, was unequal the world over.

“May I have the pleasure of this dance, Mrs Foster?” Captain Richmond was before her, his eyes challenging, his smile mocking. They were attending a ball given by one of the European merchants in Lloyd Foster's honour.

“Thank you, Captain.” She gave him her hand and forced herself to smile charmingly at him.

They moved into the dance.

“May I be permitted to say how beautiful you are looking tonight,” Jeremy Richmond murmured.

“Why, thank you.”

Her ball gown was pale pink satin, decorated with tiny bows. The neckline was low and the wide, swinging crinoline emphasised her tiny waist.

As the dance ended, Captain Richmond said, “ May I be allowed to escort you home? Your husband has become involved in a lengthy game of cards, I believe.”

“Do you not play, Captain Richmond?”

“Occasionally, when it suits me.”

When he needed to, more like, Carrie thought wryly, just like Lloyd, he would use his gambling instincts to swell his pockets.

Aloud she said, “ Thank you, but Lady Benjamin, who lives next door to your house – to your
friend's
house, I should say – has offered me a place in her carriage. Her husband, too, is involved in the same card game as Lloyd.” She was glad to have a ready-made excuse, thankful for the kindness of Lady Benjamin. She saw the Captain's anger spark in his eyes, saw his mouth tighten. He took her hand in his and bowed low over it.

“Some other time, ma'am.” His words seemed like a veiled threat.

Lloyd did not return that night and when there was still no sign of him the next morning, Carrie became alarmed.

She sent word to Lady Benjamin to see if her husband had returned and was informed that Sir Hugh had come home at about two in the morning.

Where, then, was Lloyd?

The servant, whom she had sent on the errand, bowed low once more. “Lady say to tell you, Missus, that Master go with Captain. Where, she don't know, but he go.”

“With Captain Richmond?”

“Ya, Missus.”

“Very well, thank you.” Now she was even more anxious.

About mid-morning she heard hoofbeats and ran to the window at once. Captain Richmond was dismounting in front of the house, but he was alone.

Carrie bit her lip as she waited for the Captain to be shown into the room.

“Ah, my dear Mrs Foster.”

“Where's Lloyd?” she asked without preamble.

“Your husband, ma'am?” The insolence was more apparent now. “I should not have thought you would be particularly worried about your
husband
!”

Carrie gasped. He moved closer, so close she could feel his rapid breath upon her face. “ What do you mean, and how dare you speak to me in that – that manner?”

“Oh, I dare, Mrs Foster, because I found out a few things about the beautiful, aloof Mrs Foster last night.”

He grasped hold of her shoulders. “ Your dear husband was drunk and he started rambling, talking about his life – his married life with you. Oh, he loves you, that's not in doubt. What is in doubt, Mrs Foster,” his words were lined with sarcasm. “ Is
your
feeling for
him
. From his sometimes incoherent mumblings I managed to piece the truth together. At least, I think it's the truth. That's why I'm here, Carrie my darling, to find out about you, and your so-called marriage.”

“Let go of me this instant, or – or I'll scream!”

“Much good it would do you.
My
servants would not come to your rescue.”

“So it
is
your house?”

“Of course. I could scarcely tell you that, though, could I, or you would have refused to accept my hospitality?”

“Yes, I would.”

“See how well I know you already, my dearest.”

Carrie began to struggle but the years of refined living had robbed her of some of her strength. Under Lloyd's protection she had had no need to fight for survival.

Not until now.

“Where is Lloyd?”

“Mr Foster is on his way back to the railway site. I packed him into a gharry and bade three of my servants drive him back.”

“He went – without telling me?”

The Captain laughed maliciously. “ He had no choice, ma'am. He was dead drunk. By the time he is sober he should be back with his beloved railway.”

“There are no navvies there since the cholera.”

“Oh, that was taken care of days ago – a party were sent out and should be well settled into camp by now. All that was missing was their master. So I thought that should be rectified.”

Carrie grew more angry and a prickle of fear ran down her spine. “ Then I, too, must return to the camp.”

“Ah now, I have other plans for you, my dear.”

“You presume, sir. Whatever your plans are they shall not include me!”

His grip, from which she had been unable to wriggle free, tightened so that his fingers dug into her flesh. “ You have kept me at arm's length, so cool and remote, playing the lady. And I thought it was because you loved your husband. But you don't, do you, Mrs Foster? ‘If only she loved me', he said last night. ‘Why couldn't she love me instead of that Trent fellow?' ”

“Oh!” Carrie cried and began to struggle violently. But the more she wriggled, the tighter he held her.

“Ah, now that seems to have struck a chord, doesn't it, my dear Mrs Foster?”

“You are insufferable. Let – me – go!”

“Who is this Trent? Is he your lover?”

“It's – none of your damn business.”

“Aha!” His eyes glinted with satisfaction. “So the ladylike mask begins to slip a little, eh?”

“I've never pretended to be a
lady
, as you put it. But Lloyd has money and he wanted to buy me clothes, and …”

Jeremy Richmond was laughing. “Lloyd Foster has money? You're living in a fool's paradise, my dear. He owes me five hundred, and God knows how much more to others interested in his damn railway.”

Carrie was suddenly still, horror-stricken by the Captain's words, for she knew he was not lying.

“But – but you're not interested in his railway, are you?”

“No,” and his voice grew hoarse with suppressed emotion. “But I am interested in his
wife
!”

Carrie, her face only inches from his, said, “ Well, Captain, now your cards are finally on the table, let me tell you this. Husband or no husband, I would never – ever – be interested in you. Now, will you kindly release me or I shall create the biggest commotion ever heard in Calcutta.”

For a moment they stood locked in a battle of wills, then with a short laugh he let her go. “I can wait, my love. Now I know the truth about you – and your marriage – I can bide my time. But,” he added, and there was menace in his tone. “You shall not escape me. I shall follow you wherever you go – to the ends of the earth if necessary. You shall not escape me – not now!”

He turned and was gone from the room. Carrie sat down, suddenly finding that she was shaking from head to foot. The revelation of her husband's financial state, the Captain's abhorrent advances and his threats, had badly frightened even Carrie's stout heart.

“Lloyd,” she said aloud to the empty room. “I must go to Lloyd. I must tell him. He will protect me.”

She managed to hire a gharry – a box-like vehicle without springs drawn by a scrawny horse – and soon Calcutta was behind her. As Fort William grew fainter in the distance, Carrie breathed more freely. They travelled for a distance of some thirty miles, passing all the places she had stayed alongside the railway as slowly it had stretched across the countryside during the last eighteen months. The horse was exhausted, but the railway bed was in sight.

As they drew closer, it seemed to Carrie that there was a great deal of shouting and yelling going on. Indian workers were running in all directions, their arms waving, their voices raised in a high-pitched babble. She narrowed her eyes against the glare of the sun. The work in progress was a cutting through a low hill and the railway track had already been laid so far into the cutting, but it stopped dead, hidden by what looked like a landslide.

She jumped down from the vehicle and, picking up her crinoline skirt, she began to run towards the workings. She grabbed an Indian running in the opposite direction. “ What has happened?” she demanded, but she had learnt so little of the language that she could understand nothing of his incoherent jabber.

She hurried on, down the embankment, slipping and sliding in her anxiety. She could see Mr Thompson, the new engineer, near the fall, directing the workers, his voice loud and clear, his arms waving directions.

“Mr Thompson, Mr Thompson, what has happened? I'm Mrs Foster – Lloyd's wife.”

He turned. His clothes and face were covered with dust, his face streaked as rivulets of sweat ran down his cheeks. Wearily he passed his hand over his forehead.

“Lloyd, where is Lloyd?” Her voice was shrill with fear. She saw him glance towards the pile of rubble, and her heart contracted. “Oh, no!” she whispered.

“There's six under there, ma'am. And I'm pretty sure one's your husband. We're getting to them as fast as we can but …” His voice died away, then more briskly, he added, “ If you'll excuse me, ma'am. I must help.”

“Of course,” she said and stood watching, feeling lost and helpless as the men dug and scrabbled at the fall.

How long could anyone live under that, she thought, supposing they even survived the first fall? It was sand and stone mostly. They'd suffocate. It would fill their mouths, their nostrils, their eyes …

She gave a small cry of anguish and clasped her arms about her body in a gesture of self-comfort.

After half an hour they retrieved the first body, then swiftly three more were found – all dead.

One of the party of rescuers gave a cry as another body came into view and Carrie's head jerked up. She saw them pull Lloyd's huge frame from beneath the sand and she stumbled forward.

“He's still breathing, Mrs Foster,” Mr Thompson said, “ but only just!”

They carried him a short distance from the fall and laid him down gently. At once Lloyd began to struggle to rise.

“No, no, lie back,” Carrie insisted, kneeling beside him and cradling his head in her lap. He began to cough and splutter, gasping and wheezing. She brushed the sand and dirt away from his face.

“Carrie, Carrie, is that you?” his voice was a strangled whisper.

“Yes, now lie still. We'll get help.”

“No, no time,” he whispered desperately. “I can't breathe – I can't breathe.” He began to choke.

He drew rasping breath then said, “ Carrie, you must get home. Go straight home to England. Don't stay – here. He's dangerous. Get away!” She knew he meant Captain Richmond. “ Do you hear me – now?”

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