The Brideship Wife

by Leslie Howard

  “Hear! Hear!” Reverend Burk said, raising his glass to me. Lady Persephone echoed the sentiment. I felt Reverend Crossman’s eyes on me as he raised his drink with the others, and I desperately wanted to sink into my seat, but I sat erect, my chin up, and pretended to be the woman of conviction that Hari just described as the wind howled outside.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I awoke in the night feeling as though I had dropped through a trapdoor into Dante’s nine circles of hell. The third circle, to be exact. I had heeded the captain’s advice and hadn’t eaten much at dinner, but clearly that wasn’t enough. I gripped the headboard of my bed, trying desperately to brace myself against the endless plunging and lifting motion of the ship. I was thankful that I had snapped the bed’s side plank into place before retiring despite thinking it childish earlier. It was all that held me from being tossed painfully from my bunk onto the cabin’s cold wooden floor.

  The howling gale brought with it a pungent seaweed-smelling dampness that seeped through wall cracks and permeated the cabin. My hot, dry lips tasted of salt, and my stomach cramped painfully as bile began to percolate up my throat. Sliding from my bed onto the floor, I crawled towards the washstand in Hari’s room in the faint glow of the moonlight. I grasped the lovely porcelain washbowl that I had so admired and I retched, my stomach desperate to rid itself of its contents.

  “Sorry, Hari,” I croaked, sure I’d woken her, but she didn’t respond.

  As I clutched the bowl, I regretted my cynical view of Reverend Burk’s long-winded supplication and prayed that the dreadful motion of the ship would stop. I vomited again until there was nothing left.

  I didn’t know how much time had passed, but eventually the endless gyrating motion that consumed my world subsided and my gut ceased its violent purging. My white flannelette nightgown was damp and clung to me. Slowly, I stood and looked over at Harriet’s motionless body. How could she sleep through all of that—the storm, my sickness?

  I ignored the shivers that ran over me and went to her bed. Even in the poor light, I could see that she was deathly pale.

  “Harriet?” She didn’t move. I scanned the bedside table and saw the remains of two spent vials of her medicine. Oh no, I thought. What has she done? I put my ear to her chest. Her breath came in short, shallow puffs. For a moment I was lost in panic. I couldn’t lose my sister. “Hari, wake up.” I shook her. She moaned but didn’t stir. “Harriet,” I said louder, gently slapping her cheek.

  Her eyes fluttered open.

  “Thank God,” I murmured.

  “Wha—? What are you doing?” She was groggy and confused, but awake.

  “You took too much of your medicine.”

  “No, no—one, jus’ one.”

  “You took two vials—two, not one.”

  “I—I can’t h-have taken two.” She struggled to sit up and sort through the items on her table, stopping when her hands landed on the two empty vials. “I can’t afford to take two! I don’t have enough.”

  “Enough for what?” I asked. “Hari, you were barely breathing.”

  Pushing me aside, she threw back the covers and got to her feet. She staggered across the room to her trunk and rummaged through it until she found a velvet drawstring bag. “Six left, only six. What am I going to do?” She sank to the floor, a stricken look on her face.

  “It will be all right,” I said, wrapping us both up in the blanket from the bed. Her shoulders were shaking. I thought at first that she was cold, but then I realized that she was crying. I was shocked. Hari never cried. On many occasions, she told me that she didn’t believe in giving in to one’s emotions.

  “What’s wrong, Hari?” I asked, rubbing her back.

  “I need my medicine. I can’t do without it. It’s the only thing that calms me.”

  “You’ve never needed anything like this before. What exactly is it? Did Dr. Randolph prescribe it?”

  She nodded. “It’s laudanum, and if I don’t get more, I won’t be able to hold myself together. What will Lady Persephone say?” She gripped my hands. “You must help me get more, Charlotte. You must.”

  The fevered look in her eye frightened me. I had heard of laudanum. Mama’s friends had talked of it. Some called it “wife’s best friend”—they couldn’t get through their loveless marriages without it. But they also spoke of women who had overindulged to the point of ruining their health. What had it done to my poor sister?

  She continued to cry, rocking listlessly back and forth. I pulled her close. “There, there. We’ll figure this out. Don’t worry.”

  Even as I said the words, I wasn’t sure they were true. I had no idea how to get laudanum and, when it came down to it, I was frightened by what it had done to her tonight. The ghostly image of her lying on that bed wouldn’t leave me for a long time. All I did know was that my sister was in desperate need of help.

  I cradled her until she fell back to sleep, then at dawn, I dressed, pocketing the empty vials, and ran to find Dr. Carson.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dr. Carson didn’t appear surprised when I knocked on his surgery door. “Are you poorly after the storm last night?” he asked, inviting me in.

  The middle-deck room was small and dark with one window, a porthole that gave off a heady smell of mouldy dampness. I noticed it was just above the waterline and bolted closed against the swells and the grey, turgid water that threatened to swamp it. A lattice of small drawers, each labelled with a brass plate, covered one whole wall. I squinted, trying to read some of the labels, hoping that one of these little wooden cubicles housed the drug I sought.

  “No, I’m fine,” I replied. “It’s my sister.”

  He sat and gestured to an old wooden chair on the other side of his desk. “Please, take a seat,” he said in a lilting Welsh accent. “What can I do for you, Miss Harding?”

  “Please call me Charlotte.” I squirmed in my chair, uncertain how to begin. “My sister’s regular doctor, Dr. Randolph, put her on some medication prior to our departure, and I’m afraid she doesn’t have enough to see her through the voyage.”

  “What is she taking?”

  “This,” I said, holding out the two empty vials. “Laudanum.”

  Dr. Carson grew very serious as he took the vials. “Laudanum is a powerful drug made by combining opium and alcohol, and I take great care in who I give it to. It’s very effective for pain in the short term, but over time it’s highly addictive.”

  “Harriet says it calms her nerves. She hasn’t suffered an injury, so I can’t begin to understand why her doctor would have prescribed this for her in the first place.” I remembered the way Dr. Randolph had helped Harriet into the carriage that rainy day. He’d seemed so attentive, but had I misread his intentions?

  “I’ve heard that it is becoming quite commonplace with physicians who administer to the wealthy,” Dr. Carson said. “But in my opinion they are playing with fire.”

  “How so?”

  “The drug opium slows the heartbeat. Breathing becomes shallow. Heart attacks are not uncommon. Overdoses are often fatal. Those addicted can rarely focus on anything other than their next dose and the first symptoms of withdrawal are enough to make those trying to quit give up.”

  As he described exactly what I had just witnessed in Harriet, my throat felt dry and I swallowed hard. “May I be frank?”

  “Please.”

  “My sister has been taking a full daily dose of laudanum for nearly a month now. I believe she’s addicted. I’m terrified of what will happen if she continues to take it… but I’m also afraid of what might happen if she suddenly stops. She just needs enough to see her through the voyage, then we can get her proper help. Would you be able to prescribe her a few more doses? I’ll monitor her closely.”

  His shoulders drooped and he slumped forward on his desk, as though the ills of the world hung heavily on him. “Miss Charlotte, you need to understand that accidents happen all the time on ships. This is dangerous work. There’ll be broke
n bones, cuts, and coal-fire burns. There’s no knowing what lies ahead, but I do know that the poor crewmen will suffer, and laudanum is the only drug I have to help them. I have none to spare.” He raised his head and looked at me hard. “I won’t lie to you. Withdrawal from the drug will be one of the hardest things your sister will ever do, but she will survive.”

  “Couldn’t we try to wean her off of it? Do you have enough for that?” I couldn’t bear the thought of going back to Harriet empty-handed.

  “It’s possible,” he said after a moment. “But you will have to get her to commit, and it’s not easy to cut back. The addiction is powerful. As long as they have a full dose available to them, most addicts will give in to the pull of the drug.”

  “I’ll convince her, and I’ll get her to turn over the last of her supply to you so she can’t backslide,” I said, my resolve building. Yes, this was what I could do for Harriet. “Of course, we would pay you so you can buy more laudanum. I wouldn’t want the crew to be without. But my sister is also in great need.”

  The doctor straightened. “I’m forgetting my oath. The crew and passengers on this ship are both my patients, and I must do all I can to help you.”

  Relief washed over me like a wave, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding.

  “But I don’t want your money,” he said, then paused, deep in thought. “Let me propose something. I recall from the captain’s dinner that you have some experience with veterinary medicine. I desperately need another set of hands. If you assist me on my daily rounds with the crew, I would be willing to use some of my supply of laudanum to help wean Harriet off the drug. She could reduce her daily dose to zero in a few weeks’ time and I will restock when we stop in Bermuda. What do you say?”

  I knew Harriet would balk at the idea of me working on board the ship, but I would have agreed to anything in order to help her. “Yes, I’ll be happy to. Thank you, Dr. Carson.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” he said. He searched the drawer of his desk and handed me a tiny container. “This is a half dose. Go give it to your sister, then come right back. Bring me any of her unused vials. Your new job starts in one hour.”

  * * *

  Harriet was sitting at her dressing table brushing her hair when I entered our cabin. In the mirror, I could see that she had dark circles under her eyes and a yellowish tinge to her skin.

  “Hari, look what I’ve brought you.” I opened my palm to reveal the vial in my hand.

  She quickly came to me. She held the tiny glass cylinder up to the light of the window so she could see the amber liquid inside, then searched my face. “You found more. Where?”

  “Dr. Carson. I explained your plight, and he’s willing to help. Go ahead, this is today’s dose.”

  Hari didn’t hesitate. She pulled the stopper and swallowed the tincture. Her cheeks immediately flushed red, but her eyes remained flat, the whites tending towards grey. “This isn’t the same. There’s not enough.”

  “It’s half your usual dose. Dr. Carson is going to help wean you off.”

  “But why? I’m perfectly fine taking it. The only problem is when I run out.”

  I drew her to the chairs and we sat down opposite each other. “You know that’s not true,” I said quietly. “Last night, you scared me, Harriet. I thought I might have lost you. And you… you were… I’ve never seen you so distraught.”

  She looked away, clearly uncomfortable at the recollection.

  “You have to try to quit, Harriet,” I continued. “The drug is dangerous. From what Dr. Carson told me, laudanum is used to manage severe short-term pain. Why did Dr. Randolph prescribe it for you in the first place?”

  “It was to relax me, make me more likely to conceive. That’s what Dr. Randolph said. I was desperate.” She closed her eyes. “After three years of marriage, I had not been pregnant once, and it was all Charles would talk about. ‘My uncle won’t make me his heir and pass the title on until the line of succession has been established,’ he told me time and again.”

  “Did you ever think the problem conceiving could be with Charles?” I asked. “Did he ever see a doctor?”

  Harriet let out a harsh laugh. “How little you know of men. A man would never admit to that. Don’t be ridiculous.” Seeing my face, she softened. “I know you’re just trying to help. I’m sorry for being such a witch lately.”

  “I know you don’t mean it.” I remembered something Wiggles said to me a long time ago when my father was caught up in the fever of his latest project and I had complained of his dismissive behaviour. “Sometimes we take our frustrations out on those we love the most,” I told Hari now. “They’re the only ones we can truly trust.”

  “It’s always been me giving you advice. When did you get to be so wise?”

  “If you think me wise, then listen to me now. You need to take this opportunity. You don’t want to permanently ruin your health, do you?”

  Harriet frowned, studying the floor. “You’re right. I can see what it’s doing to my physical condition, but when I’m on it I haven’t a care in the world. When it wears off I feel anxious for more. It’s as if it is a living thing inside me that’s taken over my body and my will. How can I possibly mange without it?”

  “Dr. Carson and I will help you manage your doses so the panic isn’t unbearable. Don’t worry. The first thing we need to do is give the last of your supply to Dr. Carson.”

  Harriet stiffened. “No! You can’t leave me with none. What if I can’t do this? I need some of the drug just in case.” She had the eyes of a cornered animal.

  “You can do it, Hari. I will help you every step of the way. Trust me. Now, where are the other vials?”

  “They’re in my chest, in the velvet purse,” she said finally.

  I went over to her trunk and found six vials, just as she said, and when I turned back, she was watching me, or rather watching the vials.

  “It will be okay, Harriet. I promise.”

  “How much will this cost?” she asked.

  “He doesn’t want any money.” I filled Hari in on the bargain I had struck with the doctor.

  “You can’t be serious—traipsing after him on the lower decks. A woman of your breeding should never step into the crew’s quarters. It would be a disaster if Lady Persephone heard of it, especially after the weak impression you made at the captain’s dinner. No, go back and tell the doctor I won’t allow this. We will buy the medicine from him and that’s that. I have sufficient funds.”

  As if to prove it, she slowly rose and went to her dresser, where she pulled out several coins.

  “He won’t take the money, Harriet.”

  “Of course he will. Everyone wants money. I won’t be a charity case.”

  She thrust the money into my hand. As I fingered the coins, an idea came to me. “Fine, I’ll do as you ask. But first, I’m going to change into my walking outfit and take a tour of all three decks. I need the fresh air after being sick last night.”

  Harriet nodded her assent, then returned to her bed. “I’m afraid I can’t join you. I don’t want Lady Persephone to see me like this.”

  I lifted a blanket over her. “I’ll return a little later with something for you to eat. Rest for now.”

  She finally closed her eyes, and I stayed for a few minutes watching the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, comforted in the knowledge that her breathing seemed normal once more.

  I quickly dressed in one of my older, simple cotton day dresses with a full skirt that allowed ease of movement. If Harriet did leave her room, she would never go to the second or third decks. I could help Dr. Carson, and she need never know. It would be only for a few weeks. As I tucked the laudanum into my pocket, I tried not to doubt Hari’s commitment to this new plan. Or my own. Harriet was right—it wouldn’t do for those in our circle to know I was Dr. Carson’s assistant and socializing with the lower classes. After all I’d been doing to try to salvage my reputation, I was taking a risk, but I had no ot
her choice. I tried to ignore my queasy stomach. With luck, I would never be found out.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “This is everything,” I said, handing Harriet’s vials over to Dr. Carson.

  “You’re doing the right thing, Miss Charlotte,” he said, meeting my gaze. Then he produced a large skeleton key from his pocket and went his desk. “One day your sister will thank you.” Once he had locked the vials away, he pulled an aging frock coat on over his yellowing white shirt. “Let’s get started.”

  I hesitated. “About my work with you…”

  “Yes?”

  “Could we keep it between us? It’s just that it would be frowned upon by our circle of friends, if you know what I mean. I admire what you do, but there are certain… expectations I have to meet.”

  He gave me a world-weary look. “I know too well what you mean. I promise to keep this arrangement between us.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Now, what would you like me to do?”

  “You can carry my instruments,” he said, handing me a black leather bag. It was much heavier than it looked, and I had to carry it with two hands. He gathered up two other bags himself. “Your job will be to hand me items as I need them, but first you will clean each instrument with a disinfectant. I’m one of the new breed who believes in absolute cleanliness.”

  I nodded as if I knew what he was talking about, then we set off. He walked briskly, and it was all I could do to keep up with him as he headed to the staircase that led to the engine room deep within the ship’s bowels.

  “The worst injuries are the burns,” he called over his shoulder. “They’re the most likely to get infected and kill the patient. We are off to see Sam, the coal stoker. Nasty burn. Hope you have a strong stomach.”

  The heat and roar of the engine room hit me like a solid wall. I caught my breath and pressed back against a rough wooden post for support, taking in the hellish scene. Flames flared from the huge open furnace, casting sepia-orange light across the walls and low ceiling. The air, heavy with black, choking coal dust, made my lungs ache and my throat so dry I couldn’t swallow. The sharp odour of male sweat mixed with old stale leather and unwashed linen was so thick I could almost taste it.