Daughter of Darkness

by Janet Woods

  Jeffrey was given to showy gestures, she realized, when the rapier slashed towards the officer’s discarded coat and neatly severed every button. As a demonstration of swordsmanship it was without par. As a warning, it worked.

  Hugh Macbride’s eyes narrowed warily. ‘I’ll do as you ask, but I beg you. Do not leave me without uniform.’

  ‘Your clothing will be left at the edge of the clearing.’ Taking the pistol from her hand Jeffrey indicated the cottage with it, his eyes flint hard. ‘We will leave your horse on the track to the road. You owe your life to my sister-in-law’s indulgence in this matter, but let me warn you. If you ever set foot on this estate again you’ll draw your last breath before you leave. Is that understood?’

  Hugh bowed his head in defeat. Walking into the cottage he closed the door behind him, his eyes smouldering with embarrassment.

  Due to his extreme youth it was inevitable Jeffrey would crow about his part in the rescue of his sister-in-law. Just as inevitable—word reached Hugh Macbride’s men before he did. They said nothing when their bloodied officer rejoined them in a foul humor. But when they reached Dorchester and the officer was taken to a surgeon for attention, the tale was told, then retold with gleeful malice at the tavern. From there the story boarded a coach to London. By the time Hugh Macbride emerged from the surgeon’s house, his face crisscrossed by stitches, his treatment at the hands of a young noblewoman whom he’d sought to seduce was well on the way to becoming public knowledge.

  Meanwhile, the hapless victim—having been interviewed by the earl and rigorously interrogated by Lady Edwina—was now being subject to the scrutiny of her mother-in-law.

  It was a case of instant dislike for both parties.

  ‘She does not have the refinement of her mother,’ the mistress of the house said. Her fingers hovered over a dish of tiny almond biscuits. Selecting the largest she popped it into her mouth and flicked Willow a disdainful gaze. ‘My mother tells me your accomplishments are indifferent. Marietta had the sweetest singing voice and her embroidery was excellent.’

  ‘She must indeed have been a wonderful woman,’ Willow muttered, bored to tears with this litany of perfection she was being presented with. ‘Pray tell me she had faults so I may compare myself with her in, at least, one way.’

  ‘If you insist.’ Caroline’s mouth tightened into a thin cruel, line. ‘Your mother was a flirt. That is… until your father came into her life. After that, she never flirted again.’

  ‘That’s enough!’ Edwina got to her feet. ‘It does you no credit to speak ill of the dead, Caroline, especially when that ill concerns the innocent child of that person.’

  ‘Innocent indeed?’ Caroline scorned, counting Willow’s sins off on her fingers. ‘First she traps the heir to Lytton estate in marriage. Now she becomes involved in a situation with an officer, which not only causes Jeffrey to risk his life, but brings shame on the family name. I do not consider that to be the action of an innocent child.’ A sigh deflated her back into the pillows and reduced her voice to a whine. ‘For pity’s sake take the scheming creature from my sight. She’s not welcome here.’

  ‘Then I will not inflict my presence upon you any longer.’ With all the dignity she could muster Willow rose to her feet. She had done nothing to be ashamed of. She engaged her mother-in-law’s glance coolly. ‘My respects, mother-in-law.’ Making a parody of a curtsy she slowly exited the room, her head held high. Only the spots of color glowing in her cheeks gave indication of her inner turmoil.

  Following after, Edwina felt proud of Willow’s courage and control.

  Once outside, the control deserted Willow, however. Tears sprang to her eyes and her teeth bit into her trembling bottom lip. ‘What have I done to deserve such dislike?’ she whispered.

  ‘Nothing, my love.’ Edwina pulled her close, and oblivious to the tears staining her dress she led Willow towards her quarters. ‘It’s herself Caroline despises, and others she blames for it. Come, we’ll take tea together. You will tell me again exactly what took place this morning. As much as I love my grandson, I fear the young rapscallion has a talent for embroidering the truth.’

  Despite her tears, Willow laughed. ‘Jeffrey is a fine, brave, boy. Already, I’m growing fond of him.’

  ‘And he you.’ Lady Edwina’s dry remark brought consternation to Willow’s face. ‘Jeffrey is at an impressionable age. Puppy love can be painful. Be careful how you treat him, my dear.’

  ‘I’ll try to be considerate of his feelings, Grandmother.’ Willow smiled, grateful for the timely warning. ‘My regard for him will be that of a sister.’

  The maturity with which she spoke reassured Lady Edwina. She hoped Gerard would be equally solicitous of Willow’s feelings when he returned. Unless he’d very much changed, she couldn’t see any reason why he wouldn’t be.

  At Sheronwood, three new cases of smallpox appeared.

  Lady Rosamond sent word to Lytton House via a manservant, who stood some distance from the gatekeeper and relayed the message by word of mouth. ‘The mistress is putting the place in quarantine. No one’s to be allowed in or out.’

  ‘You’d best be getting back there then,’ the gatekeeper said nervously.

  ‘Not bloody likely,’ the servant exclaimed. ‘I’m not sick and I don’t aim to get sick. I’m off to London. I hear tell there’s plenty of opportunities there for the likes of me.’

  ‘Not without money, there ‘aint.’

  ‘The Marquis Lynchcross will provide the means.’ The man gave a sly wink. ‘I know things he wouldn’t want to become public knowledge.’

  ‘Such as?’ Despite his fear of the disease the gatekeeper’s curiosity got the better of him. He allowed the servant to sidle closer and listened to what he had to say. After a short while the man’s eyes widened in shock. ‘Does your mistress know about it?’

  ‘Not her, she’s as deaf as a post. Anyway, nobody visits that part of the house since the estate manager declared it unsafe, except for that hard-faced cow of a housekeeper.’ The servant grinned. ‘It took half a bottle of brandy to loosen her up enough to find out what was going on, but it’s going to be worth it. The marquis will be glad to pay me off, just you wait and see.’

  A week later a boat fished the body of the man from the Thames River in London. His throat had been cut.

  The cadaver was taken to the morgue where it joined two other bodies taken from the river that day. Without identification, the three corpses were piled on a cart and conveyed to Guys Hospital for dissection by the student surgeons. The morgue keeper jingled the coins in his pocket as he walked happily towards the tavern. It had proved to be a lucrative day.

  Chapter Three

  Autumn -1754—Winter

  Smallpox!

  Even though she and Kitty had survived a mild case in Ireland, the word sent a thrill of dread through Willow. ‘Can it be caught twice?’

  Edwina shrugged. ‘Doctor Tansy says there’s evidence of immunity.’

  They were walking in the garden. Autumn had lingered through October and the day was clad in an amber-hued haze. Leaves drifted about their shoulders like russet snowflakes before falling to the ground to be crunched underfoot. The mellow stone walls of Lytton House shone pink, the mullion windows flamed reflections of sunlight. Willow couldn’t believe some of its occupants would be dead before the disease ran its course.

  Everything looked so normal. In the orchard workers were picking the last of the fruit for storage, children gathered baskets of chestnuts in the grounds. Honey was being collected, herbs picked for drying. To her left, a thin stack of smoke spiraled towards the sky from a bonfire. She shivered. If the contagion spread the bonfires would be kept stoked with the soiled bedding and clothing of the infected. Nothing could be left to chance.

  ‘It’s essential the servants are given no cause to panic,’ Edwina said. ‘Ambrose is going to summon them to the great hall and put into action the plan suggested by Doctor Tansy. The diseased will be isolated in one wing
. Those who have survived earlier contact will care for those who succumb. A notice of quarantine will be posted on the gate. Deaths must be recorded, the corpses sewn securely into canvas sacks and left at the gate for the cart to pick up.’

  ‘It didn’t work at Sheronwood,’ Willow pointed out, shuddering at the scenario her Grandmother painted. ‘The servants deserted, leaving Lady Rosamond and those already sick to die alone.’

  ‘Sheronwood lacked a master, and Rosamond was too weak to enforce her will.’ Edwina sighed. ‘Thank God young Edward was with us.’

  ‘But now we have the infection the Sheronwood heir is still in danger.’

  ‘Daphne de Vere is young enough to produce another heir should the need arise.’ Edwina frowned in distaste as she added absently. ‘Though rumor has it her husband practices the French fashion.’

  ‘What is that?’

  Sometimes, Edwina forgot Willow was married only in name. She’d be ignorant of such practices. Still, she surmised, what Daphne had managed once with her husband she could manage again. All men could be enticed to do their duty, even those of an effeminate nature. However, it was not her job to educate Willow in such matters. Gerard would not thank her for it if she did. She must remain pure in mind and body until he decided otherwise. Edwina wondered where Gerard was at that moment. It had been two months since she’d received his last letter. ‘Gerard survived smallpox in his infancy,’ she mused. ‘He will not be in danger when he arrives home.’

  ‘He’s in England? You’ve heard from him?’

  ‘Not of late. He is en-route I should imagine.’

  ‘Perhaps he’ll decide to stay in London.’

  Exasperation gripped Edwina when Willow smiled. The girl reveled in the freedom of country life. Ambrose and Jeffrey adored her. Most of the household was aware she disguised herself as a boy, rode astride, fenced, hunted for rabbits in the forest and behaved in an unfeminine fashion when she thought she wasn’t being observed. The servants talked of little else. All admired her spirit and turned a blind eye to it.

  ‘Your smile is too smug,’ Edwina warned. ‘Your husband will not be as indulgent with you as his brother and the earl. He’ll have your respect.’

  ‘That he’ll have to earn.’ Her eyes snapped with defiance at the thought of being told what to do by a husband she hardly knew. ‘I will not be dominated by a man who insults his wife by totally ignoring her for several years.’

  I do not doubt that, Edwina thought. Gerard will have to learn how to compromise. The sparkling confidence in Willow’s eyes made her smile. And you will not have things all your way missy, and that will do you no harm.

  Linking arms, she gazed up at the house. ‘I pray God spares the Lytton family and all who serve them from this dreadful disease, be they believers or sinners.’

  God, it seemed, was not disposed towards granting favors that day—nor for some time to come.

  ‘I forbid you to do this, Willow.’ Shocked, Edwina gazed at her ward. More shocking than her actions, was the large white apron worn over a plain servant’s gown. ‘Nursing the servants is not a fitting occupation for a lady.’

  Taking one end of a vinegar-soaked sheet, Willow ignored her words, handing the other end to the idiot girl, Nellie. She secured it across a doorway. ‘The servants are dropping like flies, Grandmother. If they’re to survive they need help—if they’re destined to die they need comfort.’

  Over the past five weeks the disease had swiftly cut a swath through Lytton House. A third of the servants had died. Most of the family had already been exposed to the disease and had some immunity. The exception was Caroline Lytton, who was locked in her room with her maid, No one was allowed in. Her meals were left outside, the windows kept tightly shut.

  Edward de Vere had been mildly infected. Willow had nursed him back to recovery herself after his nurse succumbed to the disease. The boy’s fevered body had stirred her to such pity she’d forgotten her own comfort and resolved to relieve the suffering the disease forced on its victims. She’d swiftly earned the respect of the staff who were suffering extreme fatigue. Knowing the servants could not work indefinitely without rest she’d developed a rotating system of duties, restricted to those which were strictly necessary.

  ‘When I inform Ambrose of what you are about he’ll be as shocked as I.’

  ‘I have the earl’s permission,’ she said calmly. It wasn’t exactly the truth, the earl had merely given her permission to nurse Edward, heir to Sheronwood. Ambrose Lytton set his own fine example by working as long and as hard as any man on the estate. Jeffrey trod in his father’s footsteps. Father and son left before the sun was up, returning exhausted after dark. Although they never discussed it with her, she suspected they shared the more grisly tasks associated with the disease.

  Knowing Lady Edwina was at a loose end without her company, Willow kissed her on the cheek. ‘It would help me much if you could be company to young Edward during his convalescence, Grandmother. I’ve left him in the charge of a young scullery maid.’ She pressed two fingers against her brow to ease her tiredness. ‘I could do with her strong arms.’

  Emotion overwhelmed Edwina. She was a useless old woman. Willow was wearing herself out, and she was doing nothing but criticize when she should be helping. ‘It was indeed a fortunate day when Gerard brought you to my door,’ she choked out. ‘Words cannot express how I feel about you.’

  ‘Then do not try.’ Willow knew that if she started weeping nothing would stop her with the tragedy surrounding her. She couldn’t afford to break down.

  The hug they exchanged said it all. Despite her precautions, Caroline succumbed to the disease two days later. Her death was mercifully swift, her high fever causing convulsions which stopped her heart before the disease ran its course.

  Summoned by Lady Caroline’s terrified maid, Willow did her best to nurse her mother-in-law whilst she comforted Lady Edwina. One lucid moment occurred in the hour before Caroline died, one in which she begged Willow to come closer.

  ‘I’m sorry Marietta,’ she whispered, her eyes glazed with fever. ‘It was always you Ambrose loved. The marquis… I did not expect him to compromise you when I enlisted his help.’ A cough rattled in her throat, but the glass of water she held to Caroline’s lips was pushed away. ‘He made me pay. He threatened to inform Ambrose of my part in the affair if I did not… did not… ?’ Her voice rose to an anguished wail. ‘The crippled child was God’s punishment.’

  ‘Hush.’ Willow exchanged an appalled glance with Edwina. ‘Do not fret about the past.’

  Caroline seemed desperate to cleanse her soul of guilt. ‘Ambrose was unaware the marquis fathered the infant, but I knew he’d eventually suspect.’ Her face twisted into a grimace. ‘I smothered her with a cloth’

  Edwina gave a shocked cry.

  ‘When Ambrose found out I’d killed the child he began to pity me. He always loved you. Her hand clamped around Willow’s wrist with surprising strength. ‘Forgive me, Marietta!

  At Edwina’s nod, Willow whispered the words Caroline needed to hear. Shortly after, she lapsed into unconsciousness.

  ‘We’d better send word to Ambrose.’ Ashen-faced, Edwina rose to her feet. ‘Is there no end to my daughter’s wickedness?’ she whispered. ‘Her soul will surely burn in hell.’

  Lady Edwina seemed to have aged ten years in as many minutes. Willow understood the ramifications of Caroline’s confession. Made on the deathbed, it was therefore the truth. The earl would have no choice but to call out the Marquis.

  ‘Perhaps it would be better if the earl was left in ignorance,’ she suggested, checking that the maid was not within earshot. ‘I see no benefit for any of us in telling him, only grief.’

  ‘You can forgive her for the wrong she did your mother?’

  ‘Her wrongdoing was the catalyst for my existence,’ she said simply. ‘If the confession is revealed, will it bring the crippled child or my mother back to life? I’d rather carry the burden of her sin than compound
it with the downfall of Ambrose. The earl’s no match for my father. Let this be our secret.’

  ‘It will be as you say.’ Color returned to Edwina’s cheeks. She gazed down at her daughter with more compassion. ‘No wonder she was troubled. I will stay and pray until death claims her. It will not be long.’

  ‘May God hear your prayers, Grandmother,’ Willow murmured, stooping to kiss the woman’s cheek. ‘For I must admit he pays scant regard to mine.’

  A sudden cold spell signalled the end of the epidemic. Tired to the marrow, Willow gazed out at the thick frost crusting the grounds. The two servants still confined to bed would be out of quarantine tomorrow. No new cases had been reported. Caroline’s body had been taken away with the rest and buried in the family plot without pomp or ceremony. The earl had shown little emotion. Jeffrey, now accustomed to the sight of death, had accepted the news with a weary resignation that made her heart bleed for him. The heat had gone from the bonfires, the flickering flames had become a spiral of acrid smoke that coiled upwards to join the clouds.

  ‘Thank God it’s over.’ Drawing a shawl round her shoulders Willow gave orders for the house to be scrubbed from top to bottom with vinegar, then made fragrant with bunches of dried lavender and rosemary.

  They’d just completed the task, when one of the maids came to fetch her. The girl’s eyes were heavy with fatigue. ‘Mister Jeffrey has the sickness. The master said to come at once.’

  A thrill of despair ran through Willow’s body. Dear,God, she prayed, hurrying after the maid. Do not take Jeffrey from us. He has hardly lived. Take me if your appetite has not yet been satiated, but not Jeffrey. Please, Lord

  Ambrose looked like death itself. Grey-faced and hollow-eyed, she had never seen such anguish in a man. It would be useless asking him to get some rest whilst his son needed him. ‘You must have had the symptoms for some time,’ she scolded, coaxing the youth into swallowing an infusion of meadowsweet. ‘The rash is already advanced. Why did you not tell me you were unwell?’