The Gilded Fan (Choc Lit) (25 page)

Damnation!
Nico had hoped to find at least a message from Midori waiting for him at his house upon his return from the Baltic, but so far there hadn’t been anything. Not even the shortest of missives, and no word from Harding, either. Not that he’d expected there to be, as the man was only to contact Nico in case of an emergency, but still …

‘Surely she must have tired of living in a Puritan household by now?’ he muttered. Any fool could see she wasn’t suited to such a life. Perhaps she had tried to send a message, but it hadn’t got through? As he’d mentioned to the
Heeren
 
XVII
, the news that filtered through from England wasn’t good. Nico couldn’t help but wonder what was happening to Midori and the others, caught up in a civil war. Did they have enough to eat; were they suffering hardship? He’d heard some of the ports were blockaded, so it was a possibility.

‘I must find a way to help them and get her out of there,’ he muttered.
And a way to make her trust me again and marry me.
Because he knew now he wanted her enough to tie himself down for life. He’d never felt this way about a woman before, but he’d thought long and hard about it. Women had come and gone in his life; none had been important. But Midori was special.

He sighed and left his home again. He would put his affairs in order, perhaps make some investments with the help of
Mijnheer
Schuyler and rent out the house here in Amsterdam, then buy provisions, charter a ship and sail to Plymouth.

And then, somehow, he had to persuade Midori to leave England, because he wasn’t coming back without her.

The year had started well for Plymouth.

Hopton had made several attempts on the town, but was rebuffed. When the Earl of Stamford was reported to be marching towards Exeter to relieve that town and those beyond, Hopton wisely decided to move on. He and his Cornishmen left on New Year’s Day.

‘Excellent! Now we can come and go as we please again,’ Uncle Marston was heard to comment.

For Midori the year’s beginning had not been as auspicious, however. She was called to her uncle’s study one gloomy January afternoon, wondering why, as she’d already had her daily session with him.

‘You wanted to see me, Uncle?’

‘Indeed. Tell me, what is this?’

Midori was surprised to see her uncle holding up the fan she’d given Temperance all those months ago. He looked for all the world as if he was grasping a viper, the way he held it between two fingers and at a distance from himself. ‘Why, it’s an old fan,’ she replied cautiously, wondering how it had come into his possession.

‘I found Temperance with this and she tells me you gave it to her.’

‘Yes, I did. As you can see it’s not really serviceable any longer, so I saw no harm in letting her have it.’

‘You saw no harm?’ Uncle Marston looked incredulous. ‘After all these months of careful teaching on my part, have you learned nothing? This, this … object is a gaudy, unsuitable item for a young girl to have. You must have known that, and yet you try to corrupt my daughter by “letting her have it”?’

‘I didn’t mean—’

Her uncle cut her off, his disappointment and anger almost palpable. ‘I thought better of you, Midori. I thought by now you’d come to value the teachings of Christ the way we do, or at least respect the fact that this is how we live, but I see now I was wrong. I wash my hands of you, really I do.’

Midori wanted to rail at the unfairness of his words. She had worked so hard to gain acceptance here. She desperately wanted to belong to a family and have friendship and security, and still her uncle wasn’t satisfied. However, she knew if she protested now, she might lose everything. Much as it went against the grain, she had to acknowledge he had the right to chastise her in this way for what she considered a minor transgression. In short, she had to swallow her pride.

‘No, please, Uncle Marston, tell me what I might do to make amends. I swear I’ve been listening to you and I had forgotten all about that fan. I gave it to Temperance at the very beginning, before I understood your teachings properly. It won’t happen again. Indeed, I see clearly now that it’s a vain item.’

Her uncle drew in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, his high colour fading. ‘Very well, as you seem to be truly repentant, I’ll tell you what I propose. I realise I have no authority over your belongings as such, but it would show Temperance at least the error of her ways if you were to burn this. I will tell her to pray to God while you’re doing so. She must pray for strength to fight temptation, pray for guidance before acting on impulses like the one that made her accept it in the first place. She ought to have known better. Will you do this for me, please?’

‘Yes, Uncle, if that is your wish. I’m very sorry, please forgive me.’

‘Of course. Perhaps I was a little hasty in my condemnation. I sometimes forget how far you have come and that you don’t see things quite the same way.’ He came around the desk and awkwardly patted her on the head. ‘Let us put this behind us and move forward.’

Midori was very happy to do so, but as she and Temperance watched the fan burn later, she felt as if she were burning a part of herself. Bit by bit, the old Midori was being eradicated, but there seemed no other way of surviving in England. She must banish all thoughts of her past and embrace her new way of life without reservations, whether she wanted to or not. Even if she wasn’t a Christian, she had to live according to their rules if she wanted to stay here. It was a sobering thought.
But what choice do I have?

Soon after, her uncle had more important things to worry about than whether his niece was behaving or not. Midori and Daniel returned from one of their secret outings to find the house in an uproar. Aunt Hesketh immediately rounded on Midori.

‘Where have you been? This is all your fault!’

‘What is, Aunt?’ Midori looked around to see what household calamity she could possibly have caused now, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

‘Yes, what’s amiss?’ Daniel added, anxiously.

‘Your mother is ill. A putrid throat and persistent cough, enough to shake the rafters. And it’s all because of her.’ Again Aunt Hesketh looked accusingly at Midori, who frowned as she tried to figure out the connection.

‘Midori isn’t ill,’ Daniel protested. ‘She couldn’t possibly have passed anything on to my mother.’

‘I know that.’ Aunt Hesketh cast him a withering glance. ‘But if she’d been here to do her share of the chores this week, instead of gallivanting about the Lord only knows where every morning …’ Daniel flushed bright red, since Midori had been out training him, but his aunt seemed not to notice. ‘Then Emma wouldn’t have insisted on going down to the harbour by herself yesterday to choose the fish needed for pickling and salting. In this inclement weather, it was too much for her.’

‘I thought she seemed a bit tired last night.’ Daniel looked contrite, then took a deep breath. ‘Why didn’t you accompany her then? Or send the maid with her?’

‘We were busy, no one could be spared. I told her it could wait for another day, but she would insist.’

Daniel and Midori went to see his mother together and were not cheered by what they found. Aunt Marston was lying in the canopied tester bed looking flushed and exhausted. The hangings on either side were drawn to keep out any draughts, and a roaring fire warmed the room, the heat almost stifling. It was clear from the beads of perspiration on her face that Aunt Marston was suffering from a very high temperature. Despite this, she was racked by chills so severe her teeth chattered in between the coughing bouts. Her thin body struggled visibly each time these spasms shook her and Midori and Daniel exchanged a worried glance.

The physician, when he arrived at last, pronounced Aunt Marston to be suffering from congestion of the lungs.

‘She needs hot poultices,’ he declared and charged an outrageous fee for this advice. He also recommended various other potions, which they obtained from the apothecary, but these didn’t seem to have any effect. During the night the sick woman’s condition worsened and everyone was kept awake listening to the incessant hacking cough. Midori finally dressed herself in her warmest clothes and went to see if she could be of assistance in the sickroom. Aunt Hesketh was there, as well as Uncle Marston, and they both turned grave faces in Midori’s direction.

‘Is there anything I can do?’ she whispered. ‘I have some skill with healing herbs.’

‘No. She’s already had a syrup of hyssop and it didn’t help. It’s in God’s hands now,’ Aunt Hesketh replied.

‘But I helped the surgeon on board the ship, so I learned a thing or two. Surely, it would be worth a try?’

‘You’ve done more than enough already, now go to bed,’ her aunt hissed.

Midori looked to her uncle, but he seemed lost in a world of his own. ‘Uncle Marston?’

‘What?’ He blinked at her, a confused look in his eyes. ‘Have you come bearing more soup?’

‘Well, no, but I can fetch some if you like.’

‘Won’t do any good,’ Aunt Hesketh cut in. ‘She’d only cough it back up.’

Midori stared at the figure in the bed and her heart sank. The scene reminded her so much of her mother’s deathbed – the wan face with blue-tinged lips, the frail body and the thin hands on the coverlet. And that cough. Midori could almost feel the pain it must be causing her aunt. If only they’d let Midori help, she might be able to ease the suffering, but without permission she couldn’t do anything.

‘The flowers … want them here … so pretty …’

‘What’s she saying?’ Her uncle frowned and leaned closer, trying to catch his wife’s words.

‘It’s nothing, she’s delirious,’ Aunt Hesketh said curtly.

Midori could see her uncle was, for once, unsure what to do. There was great affection between him and his wife, as was clear to anyone who saw them together. Now he was having trouble grasping the fact that his wife was likely dying. Midori put a hand on his arm to gain his attention. ‘Would you like me to bring you something, Uncle? Some mulled wine, perhaps? You must have been sitting here for ages. And you can’t expect to pray for Aunt Marston’s recovery if you take a chill yourself.’

He turned to look at her as if he hadn’t really seen her before. His eyes focused slowly on her face and he managed a small smile. ‘Yes, thank you, Midori. That would be kind.’ He slowly slid down on to his knees by his wife’s bedside. ‘And of course I must pray. It’s the only thing to be done now. You are so right.’

She slipped out of the room and padded down to the kitchen with a heavy heart. She didn’t think any god could save her aunt now.

Aunt Marston only survived one more night. Temperance took the bad news stoically. She didn’t cry, but clung hard to Midori’s arm.

‘It was God’s will,’ she repeated several times, as if imprinting the words on her memory. Midori knew it was what her father had told her, but wasn’t sure her cousin believed this quite as wholeheartedly as Uncle Marston did. She knew from her own experience how lost and bewildered Temperance must be feeling. So she did her best to keep Temperance’s thoughts busy in other ways.

Daniel retreated behind a façade of outward calm, and Midori wished there was something she could do to help him, but she knew the only thing that would heal the pain was time. And even that would only take the edge off it.

Aunt Hesketh kept shooting angry glances in Midori’s direction. ‘Punishment will be meted out where it’s due by the good Lord,’ she muttered.

‘For heaven’s sake, Aunt.’ Daniel, uncharacteristically, spoke up in Midori’s defence, sending his aunt an icy glare. ‘My mother would have caught a chill whether Midori had accompanied her or not. And you know full well she’d never have allowed Midori to go on such an important errand by herself. She always chose the fish personally, to make sure she wasn’t cheated and given inferior goods, even I know that.’

Aunt Hesketh looked surprised at her nephew’s outburst, but walked away without replying. She didn’t speak to Midori again until after the funeral, and even then it was only to issue orders.

Well, it wasn’t my fault!
But Midori decided now was not the time to pick a fight, so she did her best to ignore her aunt’s bad-tempered behaviour.

Early February 1643

Nico was pleased to find Plymouth harbour seemingly unaffected by the war as yet. He personally oversaw the unloading of the provisions he’d brought and rented a secure warehouse near the quay to store them in. Then he went to call on Harding to enlist the man’s help in finding suitable men to guard his goods.

As he walked in the direction of Harding’s house he gazed at everything around him. Nothing about the town appeared to have changed noticeably. The people didn’t look as if they had suffered any real hardship, despite the war that was now going on all around them, but there were hardly any smiling faces and he missed the contented expressions of the people of Amsterdam.

He couldn’t help but wonder how all this had affected Midori.

‘It’s good to see you, sir.’ Harding grinned in welcome. ‘Have you been to see your relatives yet?’

‘No, I’ve only just arrived. Do you know how they are?’ Nico thought to himself that forewarned was forearmed. ‘I assume there haven’t been any disasters as you haven’t sent me a message.’

‘Well, I heard tell one of the ladies died recently …’

Nico felt his insides twist as he waited for Harding’s next words. Had something happened to Midori? Or had his words to the
Heeren XVII
been some kind of self-prophecy?
Dear Lord, but I wasn’t wishing my stepmother dead!

‘… but it were one of the older ones, so I’m sure Mistress Midori is fine.’

‘You don’t know which one?’

‘Sorry, no.’

‘I’d best hurry up there to see, then. Will you be so kind as to find me guards for the warehouse, please?’

‘Of course, right away, sir.’

Nico was glad nothing had happened to Midori, but the thought of any member of that family dying made him sad. Despite his long absence, he found he still cared about them, more than he liked to admit.

‘I suppose it would serve me right if Kate
has
died,’ he muttered, regretting the lie he’d told, but there was no taking it back now. He lengthened his stride to find out.