White Water (4 page)

‘But mayhap he doesn’t know of it,’ protested Ellie. ‘’Tis a secret, you see, passed on to my ma by her ma and passed on to her by — ’

‘That’s enough Ellie,’ said Beth. ‘I know you mean well, but I’m that weary I’ve no time for such tricks.’

Ellie turned to her brother. Ben was three years older than she was and at most times a loyal champion.

‘You tell her, Ben,’ she pleaded. ‘How you hang the toad by his leg until he dies and the life stuff drips out of him on to the patient. You heard ma tell it, Ben. You tell her.’

Ben shook his head. ‘’Tis no use, Ellie,’ he said as kindly as he could. ‘And Beth’s had bad news of her own a few moments since. Her own sister is sick of the plague and like to die.’

Ellie looked at Beth in dismay. ‘So many folk dying!’ she said. ‘I’m afeared. If Harriet dies will we all die?’

‘Don’t say such things,’ said Beth. ‘Heron’s a big place and you’re well away from the infection. But now I must get on with some baking for if my sister dies I’ll be bound to see to her poor old husband, for he’s been crippled these past five years and can’t care for himself.’

‘You mean you’d leave us?’ asked Ben. ‘Leave Heron?’

‘Happen I’ll have to,’ said Beth resignedly. ‘’Tis all I can do for my poor sister and that’s little enough. I could scarce leave her old fellow to starve to death. Still, we’ll wait and see. Pass me the rolling pin, Ben, and Ellie — that toad goes out! This very moment and no ifs or buts! And don’t pull that face. You look just like your mother when she was a girl. Now where are the currants? Oh dear, I’m all at sixes and sevens.’

*

An hour passed and Harriet’s screams grew thankfully less frequent as the pain in her head subsided. Her temperature remained high, however, and her delirium increased. She spoke in a rambling voice, quite unlike her own, and for Maria, sitting beside her, the high-pitched murmuring increased her distress. She wondered if Allan would reach Heron in time and secretly hoped he would not. It was a poor sight to see the once beautiful girl in such a condition, her body marred by the dusky blotches which sprinkled the fair skin of her breasts and shoulders and began to appear on her face and neck. Her bloodshot eyes were wide and staring and from time to time she shivered so violently that her limbs jerked uncontrollably and her teeth chattered. She had bitten her tongue and blood oozed from the corner of her mouth and ran along the cracked skin of her lips. Maria wetted the small towel and wiped it away. Was it her imagination or had Harriet’s breathing changed? It seemed more rapid and the shivering increased. Harriet tried to speak but her voice was no more than a painful croak and Maria leaned over her to try and hear what she said.

‘What is it, child?’ she asked gently. ‘Are you cold? Or thirsty? Is it Allan you speak of? He will be home directly, never fear. We have sent for him. Take a sip of wine to ease your throat.’

Harriet struggled to speak and Maria helped her to sit up a little and raised the flagon to her parched lips. Harriet managed a mouthful before she caught sight of her arm, and gave a moan of fear. Her pale wrist was speckled with three dark spots. Harriet understood their significance and stared at them, transfixed with horror.

Maria held her hand, patting it reassuringly. ‘’Tis nothing,’ she told her. ‘Three little spots!’

But now Harriet rubbed at the marks, uttering shrill cries of alarm. The sound, like an animal in distress, chilled Maria’s heart. The girl turned her head slowly and became aware of the tokens on her right shoulder and then she looked down at her body and saw her speckled breasts.

She began to claw frantically at her skin, trying to rid herself of the offending spots, and she summoned deep reserves of energy so that her movements were forceful and her nails tore into the skin, streaking it with blood. Dimly, Maria was aware of hoofbeats outside and her heart sank. God forbid ’tis Allan, she whispered, but she knew it was very probable.

She pleaded frantically with her daughter-in-law, aware of Allan’s imminent arrival. ‘Stop that, Harriet! No, you must not. D’you hear me, child. Oh, stop. I beg you.’

But the demented girl fought off her restraining hands and then there were footsteps on the stairs and Allan ran into the room.

‘Help me, Allan. For pity’s sake, help me,’ cried Maria.

He flinched at the sight that met his eyes — Harriet was half out of bed, screaming hysterically, her body running with blood from countless self-inflicted weals.

‘Help me hold her. Oh, what is to be done with her? Should we tie her down? Allan — Ah!’ She winced in sudden pain as Harriet lashed out at them, and a powerful blow caught her across the side of the head and sent her staggering off-balance. As she fell, she struck her head against the corner of the four-poster.

‘Mama!’

Allan turned his attention momentarily from Harriet to Maria and in a flash the girl pulled free of his grasp and ran out of the room.

‘Are you hurt, Mama?’

She shook her head dazedly. ‘Harriet — go after her,’ she gasped, and he left her and ran out on to the landing. Already, the girl was at the bottom of the stairs. She ran straight into Ellie, who was turning the corner carrying an armful of freshly ironed linen. The little maid took one look at the dreadful sight, dropped the linen and fled back to the kitchen, white-faced and speechless with shock.

Beth could get no sense from her so she hurried out into the hall in time to see Allan run out of the front door.

‘Now what’s amiss?’ she demanded and, looking after him, drew her breath sharply and crossed herself. ‘Tis the end, poor child! ’Tis the way they go, some of them. Some die slow and others burn themselves out in a flash.’ Ellie, who had crept out after her, burst into tears and clung to Beth, who put a comforting arm round her.

‘Harriet! No!’ shouted Allan, for the girl was running in the direction of the river. She reached the top of the steps which led down to the lower garden. She turned abruptly and her expression was strangely calm. Allan hesitated as she held up a hand to warn him.

‘Harriet,’ he stammered. ‘Come back to bed. Come with me. Oh, my dearest, take my hand. Let me hold you. Let me care for you. You shan’t die.’

For a moment it looked as if she would comply. Her lips parted in a travesty of a smile and then she glanced down at her ravaged body.

‘Come to me, Harriet,’ he repeated gently. ‘All will be well, I swear it. Don’t run away from me.’

She looked up and he saw that tears glinted in her eyes. ‘I’m ugly,’ she said simply. ‘The tokens are ugly — I must wash them away.’

Allan took a step towards her and held out a hand. ‘I shall wash them away for you,’ he said. ‘Come back to the house and we shall make you clean. You will be pretty again, I promise.’

With her hands, she brushed at the blood on her breasts then raised her fingers to look at them curiously. Allan took another step towards her and she glanced up at him with a strange smile on her face. ‘I’ll wash them away,’ she repeated. ‘Aye, that’s it. I’ll wash them away.’

Only ten yards separated them, but before Allan could shorten the distances she turned suddenly and stumbled down the steps. As he ran after her, he heard the splash as she went into the river and when he reached the bottom of the steps he saw her standing waist-deep in the water. She was splashing water up over her body and she glanced up at him with a crazed expression. She flung wide her arms and laughed. Then the laughter died in her throat, her arms fell slowly to her side and she looked at him with sad eyes.

‘Oh dear God!’ cried Allan, plunging into the water, struggling to reach her before she collapsed. As he reached her she closed her eyes and fell lifeless into his arms.

*

It was past midnight when Harriet’s body was finally laid in the straight wooden coffin which rested on two trestles in the bedchamber she had shared with Allan for so short a time. Maria and Melissa had laid her out and now stood beside her, looking down into the sweet face, perfectly composed in death. The long white robe hid the lacerated body and white chalk successfully concealed the dark spots on her face. A white bonnet covered her soft brown hair and her eyes were closed and long lashes fringed her smooth cheeks. The candlelight was kind to her.

‘She was a bonny girl,’ said Melissa. ‘She looks so serene now. Allan will feel better when he sees her this way.’

Maria sighed heavily. ‘Poor Allan. He took it very hard. When I found them he was sitting on the steps, cradling her on his lap. He was talking to her — trying to reassure her that she was still beautiful. Her head was against his shoulder and her hair was wet. I thought she was still alive.’

‘Poor little girl.’

Maria put out her hand and gently stroked Harriet’s cheek. ‘Still downy, this poor little face. Allan used to call her his little swan.’ Her lips trembled and she turned to Melissa. ‘If only I knew where he had gone. He was so strange. At first he would not part with her body but carried it into the house and sat in the bedchamber with her. I thought she would — I thought her limbs — ’ She broke off and Melissa nodded without speaking. ‘I thought we
must
take her from him but I couldn’t find the words. My head ached from the fall and I felt sickly. Then Hugo came back — ‘twas a mercy he did. He argued with Allan and then he — Allan — laid her on the bed and ran out of the room. He rode off, no one knows where. Oh Melissa, he looked so strange.’

‘Tis natural enough,’ said Melissa. ‘Such a terrible shock, poor lad.’

‘But Allan is — ’ she hesitated, biting her lips, afraid to put her fears into words.

‘He’ll be back, you’ll see. He’ll ride out his grief and return to us.’

‘I hope so. Jon said he rode like one possessed.’

‘He’ll be back,’ Melissa’s tone held conviction.

‘I hope I was kind to her,’ Maria said suddenly. ‘I think I was. Such a pitifully short life. I hope she was happy.’

‘Indeed she was,’ said Melissa. ‘A husband who adored her, an affectionate family, a comfortable home. Of course she was happy. How could she be otherwise?’

‘But to die before she had a child. Such a grievous loss, never to know a child’s love.’

Melissa was silent, thinking fleetingly of her own son, Oliver, now a young man of twenty-four. He had left home ten years ago to go to sea and she had not seen him since. They had an occasional letter and these she treasured, reading them again and again, trying to picture her quiet son, wondering how he survived the rigours of a sailor’s life. Nightly she prayed for his deliverance from danger and for his eventual safe return.

Maria fussed with the dead girl’s gown, twitching the folds into place and tucking the hem more securely under the small feet. ‘She looks very beautiful,’ she said. ‘Tomorrow I shall search for white flowers, some to tuck into her hands, others to circle her head. What d’you think Melissa?’

‘I like it. Flowers lend a certain delicacy.’

‘Aye. I think so.’ She sighed again. ‘And Beth is to leave us tomorrow. Did you know?’

‘Beth? Why, no.’

‘Her sister is also stricken and leaves a crippled husband.’

‘Sweet heaven! And this is a mild outbreak! Where will it end? But how will you manage without her?’

Maria turned to her hopefully. ‘I meant to speak with you on the subject. I wondered if I might have Minnie here if Maggie would come to you.’

‘Maggie Ball at the bakery?’

‘Aye. She has often said that she might one day give it up. She is greatly aged this past two years and might welcome the idea. Will you think on it?’

Melissa considered the idea and found it agreeable. There was a bond between herself and Maggie which no one else could share. They had both loved Simon Kendal and both had lost him. In a way Melissa admired the forthright Maggie for her independent spirit and ready humour. Melissa smiled wryly. ‘I dare say Maggie would rather come to Heron and be near her beloved Allan. To her he is almost a son.’

Maria shrugged. ‘Minnie would never recover if she did.
She
has been trying to find a way back here since the day she moved to Ladyford.’

They both laughed. Maria moved the candles nearer to the head of the coffin and Melissa looked at her curiously.

‘I know,’ said Maria. ‘I fidget. ’Tis foolish but I want to satisfy myself I have done all that I can for her. I cannot quite believe that she is dead and beyond the small comforts of life.’

‘Her soul is on its way to God,’ said Melissa. ‘The passing bell rang long and loud. She is at peace now. Let her be.’

Maria took a deep breath and smoothed her own skirts. ‘You are right. ’Tis no use fretting over the dead. ’Tis the living need our help. Tomorrow, if Allan is not returned, I must send Matt in search of him.’

‘And I will speak to Thomas about Maggie and most likely ride into Ashburton to see her. You will need help with the funeral feast with Beth gone. How strange to lose Beth after all these years.’

With a final glance at Harriet, they moved quietly to the door and out onto the landing. The rest of the household were already asleep and the only noise was the wind in the chestnut tree. It was too late for Melissa to return to Ladyford so she would sleep at Heron. She took the proffered candle from Maria and kissed her lightly.

‘Sleep easy,’ she told her. ‘You have done all that you could.’