‘But how will you hear me if this wind keeps up?’
He pressed his lips together thoughtfully. ‘There is a way. You’re strong enough. And sensible.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ll show you how to fire the gun.’
Alarmed, Quinta exclaimed,‘You don’t mean for me to shoot him?’
‘Of course not. Aim in the air. It is bound to alarm him and it will warn me that something is wrong.’
Quinta warmed to the idea of giving Farmer Bilton a fright. A taste of his own medicine, she thought. ‘Where is your gun?’
‘It’s safe in the cowshed for now.’
‘I’d have to keep it in the kitchen.’
‘Leave it here, just inside the door.’ He smiled. ‘I don’t want you blowing a hole through the roof.’
Quinta relaxed a little and smiled back. ‘Do you think I could?’
‘I think you could do anything you wanted.’ He sounded as though he really believed that and she was flattered.
She became flustered and said, ‘Well, if I am to be a farmer’s wi—, that is, I mean country women ought to be able to shoot as well as their menfolk.’ She felt a blush rise to her cheeks.
He stared at her. ‘I should get back to work.’
Impulsively, Quinta reached forward and put her hand on his arm. ‘Thank you for rescuing me from that awful man. Will you teach me how to fire the gun tonight?’
‘If you wish,’ he replied.
‘After we’ve eaten, then.’
‘Very well.’ He continued to stare at her. ‘I must go.’
She nodded and returned to her pigeons. Patrick had never been far from her thoughts since mother had left. It had been nearly two weeks now and it seemed like months.
Chapter 13
Despite their early start, the journey had been slow and it had taken all morning for Laura and George to reach town. They had a long wait by the spring at the crossroads for sacks of flour from the miller to deliver to a baker. But it was a pleasant enough day and they had cold pie to sustain them.
The sergeant had cut short his greying beard and hair and, sitting opposite him, Laura studied his weathered face. His eyes were almost lost in crow’s feet and wrinkles but they were the same blue as his son’s. They shared the same broad forehead and straight nose, too.
At the crossroads they’d moved position to accommodate the sacks and this clearly pained the sergeant greatly. ‘I wish I could do something to ease your discomfort,’ Laura fretted as they settled for the remainder of their journey.
‘Your company cheers me, madam; that, and the notion that my son and your daughter will marry.’
‘You sound very sure.’
‘I know my son.’
‘I am not convinced that my daughter will be won over so easily.’
The sergeant smiled. ‘We shall see.’ He paused. ‘If we are to be companions for a week or more, will you call me George?’
‘Very well. Our hopes are that we shall soon be family. I am Laura.’
‘Laura. That’s a pretty name. I shall be much in your debt for your help.Will you allow me to purchase you a new bonnet?’
‘Oh no, sir, that is not at all proper.’
‘I was thinking of it as a gift for the ceremony that we wish for.’
‘Oh, well, yes, I suppose that would be acceptable, but I do not need another bonnet. However, new ribbons would be very nice.’
‘We shall seek out a draper’s shop after I have called at the bank.’
Laura had never been inside a bank before and anticipated her visit with interest.
‘I have business there first,’ George went on. ‘Then we shall go to the Crown for our lodgings. Patrick told me it is the most respectable inn in town and near to the surgeon’s house.’
When they arrived in the marketplace, he arranged with the carter for Laura’s box to be taken straight to the inn and they walked slowly to the High Street. The inside of the bank was wondrous indeed, with a hushed atmosphere, reminiscent of church, a great deal of wood panelling around the walls and a long polished counter. A mature gentleman in a long frock coat talked with the sergeant for several minutes.
Laura’s attention was diverted by other customers, especially the ladies who wore pretty summer gowns with matching bonnets and parasols. They were not the gentry that she knew from Swinborough Hall. She guessed they were the wives and daughters of forge-owners and other such manufactories that they had passed on their journey. The town might be dirty but it seemed to be prospering.
But Laura was weary and had coughed twice while she waited, causing attention she did not wish for. It sapped her strength and the medicine was not curing it. She asked George if they might go straight to the inn as soon as he had finished his business. She had stayed at inns as a young maid when she had travelled with the old Squire’s children. It was the only time that folk had served her instead of the other way round.
Exhausted by her journey, she was grateful to be shown to her own small chamber on the first floor. It overlooked the courtyard at the back and Laura would have enjoyed watching the comings and goings if she had not been so tired. She took off her cape and gown, laying them carefully over her box on the floor, and climbed gratefully into bed. She luxuriated in the softness of the feather mattress for a few minutes and then drifted into a short sleep, to waken later, refreshed and hungry.
Her box was unpacked and stowed when a tap at the door brought in the innkeeper’s wife with a tray of food and drink. ‘The gentleman - Sergeant Ross - told me I should let you rest, madam,’ she informed her. ‘He said to join him at breakfast.’
‘Thank you. Where will that be?’
‘It’s just along the landing. We have a private dining room at the back.’
Laura ate and drank, took a draught of her medicine and went back to bed.
In the morning a young girl brought her warm water to wash in and she felt stronger. She dressed her hair in front of the looking glass, wiped down her gown and buffed her boots. George was already at his breakfast and they murmured pleasantries to each other as she sat opposite him. He sliced cold baked ham, forked it on to her plate and poured ale from a pitcher into metal tankards. Laura sawed at a fresh crusty loaf and helped herself to butter. Her appetite was small but she enjoyed what she could manage.
‘You are quiet this morning,’ George commented.
‘I am thinking of my daughter, alone with your son.’
‘He will take good care of her.’
‘It does not seem any time at all since I was holding her in my arms as a babe. I hope I have done the right thing.’
‘She will not be persuaded into anything she does not want.’
‘No. And I do believe she will be happy with your son.’
‘We shall have them wed in the village church before next month is out.’
Laura smiled. ‘I shall look forward to that. I really shall.’
‘I sent word about you to the Dispensary last night. The apothecary replied that he has a colleague, a physician, who will see you today.’
‘He is to come here?’
‘With your leave, Laura, he is to call before noon. The innkeeper’s wife will wait on you. She is an educated lady and serves as postmistress for this town.’
‘Will you speak with him about your leg?’
‘I am to see the surgeon later this week. He has seen service on the battlefield and I shall consult with him.’
Laura had not had an interview with a medical gentleman before and wondered what she should say to him. She sat stiffly in a high-back chair waiting for him to arrive. The innkeeper’s wife showed him into her chamber. He asked if the woman might bring him in a chair from the landing and she did so, and then waited silently by the door.
The physician carried a leather bag, which he placed on the bed before drawing the chair near to her and asking a lot of questions. Laura had never been quizzed so about her habits and at first she was reticent
, glancing nervously at the other woman. This gentleman was a stranger and he was, well, a good deal younger than she. He was also very persistent. Then he asked the innkeeper’s wife to assist her in undoing the bodice of her gown and taking her arms out of the sleeves.
Mortified she asked, ‘Why, sir?’
‘I wish to listen to you breathing.’
She thought he could hear her just as well without removing her clothes and became hot and flustered. He stood up to get a towel from the washstand. ‘Place this around you, ma’am.’
Laura blushed furiously and hurriedly did as he asked while he opened his bag and took out a brass tube, flared at one end. The innkeeper’s wife whispered, ‘He comes from down south but they say he’s ever so clever.’
He put the flared end of the tube to her chest and the other end to his ear, giving her instructions to breathe in and out. Then he went round the other side of her chair and told her to lean forward while he listened to her back. He came so very close to her that she started to shake with the anxiety of not knowing what he would do next.
She was relieved when he said, ‘You may help Mrs Haig into her gown, now. Perhaps you would fetch her a little brandy, too?’
She felt better when he sat down again.
‘Do you have blood in your handkerchief when you cough, ma’am?’
How did he know? she thought. She hadn’t even told Quinta about that. ‘Sometimes.’
‘When did you first notice it?’
She thought for a moment. ‘Eastertide.’
‘So it is becoming worse. And your chest hurts when you cough?’
‘Well, yes. Can you tell me how to ease it, sir?’
‘I’ll write you a note to take to the Dispensary. You live in the country, madam?’
She nodded.
‘You must return there. Do not reside in town near to the manufactories or the coal mines. Nourish yourself well with eggs, sweet milk and poultry meat.’
‘Will my cough get better, sir?’
His face was very serious and he did not answer her straightaway. ‘It is the consumption, Mrs Haig. I believe it took a hold of you when your late husband passed away. You were weakened by your distress. The severe winters have added to your impairment. However, now your circumstances have improved there is a chance you may do so, too.’
There was hope for improvement! She felt better already.
‘But you are sick, madam, and in time your cough will become more painful. You may take one of my mixtures for that.’ He took out a bound book, wrote in it with a thick pencil, then tore out the page and handed it to her.‘The apothecary will make this up for you.’
‘I see.’ Her pleasant feeling ebbed away.
‘I am told you have a daughter. Is she well?’
‘Why, yes. She is robust and strong. I hope to see her married soon.’ Laura now prayed that this would happen. Patrick would be there for Quinta when she was too poorly to help. She wondered how long it would be before she weakened further.
He nodded. ‘Good, good. Your daughter will care for you. Should you take a turn for the worse, tell her to send for me.’
‘But I live at Top Field, on the other side of Swinborough!’
‘I have a swift horse, ma’am. How else am I to treat you if I cannot come to see you?’
‘Thank you, sir.’ Laura sat nervously twisting her fingers, while he made more notes in his book. Eventually she said, ‘Will you present your account to me here, sir?’
‘It is all settled, ma’am.Your benefactor has given me a note from his bank.’
‘Do you mean Sergeant Ross?’
‘The same. Ah, here is your brandy.You must take great care of yourself, Mrs Haig. Good day to you.’
‘Good day, sir.’ Laura took the brandy and sipped gratefully, lost in her thoughts.
‘Will there be anything else, Mrs Haig?’
She had forgotten about the innkeeper’s wife. ‘No . . . that is, yes. Tell Sergeant Ross I shall be down presently. I need some time alone first.’
Laura sat quietly in her chair, absorbing all the physician had said to her. She was very ill. She had a dreadful disease that would slowly sap her strength and, sooner or later, she would die. She would rather not have come here today and learned that, and for a brief moment she was angry with George. He had known she was sick. Perhaps he’d realised what it was, for, as a soldier, he must have seen men sicken and die from disease as much as from battle. Yet he had offered her this way of procuring the best doctoring help in the Riding. He must think more highly of her than she realised.
He had chosen to help her first when he had difficulties of his own to deal with. He was a worthy man. She hoped that the soldier’s surgeon would have better news for George than the physician had for her.
Laura had no appetite for her dinner at the inn and, although the food was cooked and served to her, it was not tempting enough for her taste.
‘This is good beef but it has been too long over the fire,’ George commented. ‘We shall take our dinner at a different inn tomorrow. Is your chamber all you would wish for?’
‘It is very comfortable.’
‘Mine, too. And we are conveniently placed for the High Street, so we shall not move.’
‘Surely we shall not be here long? When will the surgeon call on you?’
‘Never mind me. You need a little cheering. I have promised you ribbons and there is a musical performance tomorrow evening at the Mechanics’ Institute.’
‘Oh, I do enjoy music.’
‘I, too. We shall dress in our best and take supper afterwards at the Red Lion.’
Laura’s eyes shone in anticipation. ‘I should like that very much.’
‘This afternoon we shall go to the draper’s. You will not mind if I accompany you?’
‘Not at all. But the High Street is steep ...’
‘I have my magic mixture, ma’am,’ he said cheerfully. ‘It carries me away on its wings and I am a youth again.’
Laura laughed. She too experienced the same euphoric feeling when she took her medicine.
‘How good to see you laugh! You have worried too much of late.’ He raised his tankard to her. ‘Let me have the pleasure of indulging you with gifts and entertainment.’
She responded with her own goblet and smiled. ‘You must not spoil me, sir.’
He held up a piece of unappetising, overcooked beef on his fork. ‘I don’t think there is much chance of that, do you?’
She laughed again. ‘Perhaps the pudding will be better.’
For two or three days Laura forgot her misgivings about Quinta and Top Field and her own sickness. George encouraged her to believe that all would be well because he was always so sure that it would be. She retrimmed her best bonnet and the bodice of her Sunday gown. George insisted that he buy her a fancy purse, the kind she had seen ladies with at balls, and she carried it over her arm when they went to the musical concert.
She enjoyed a perfect evening. They stayed quite late at the Red Lion in the company of others who had been in the audience and were escorted to their inn by a pair of burly ironworkers who were students at the Institute. It was an aspect of town life she had not known and she thought again about coming to market with Quinta.
The day after the concert, George spent the morning at a lawyer’s office and then he took her for dinner to dining rooms recommended by that gentleman. She continued to marvel at the refinements being introduced to a place that, since her last visit, she had regarded as evil and dirty. He persuaded her to try a tiny cup of coffee after her pudding. She tasted it and passed it across to him.
‘It’s too bitter for me.’
‘It revives the spirits well.’
‘And it is dear, so do not waste it.’
He put his head on one side. She thought his crinkly eyes were very kind when he smiled.
‘I am grateful you are here with me,’ he said. ‘The surgeon calls on me tomorrow.’
George stayed quite
still on the bed while the surgeon examined his stiff and swollen knee. He was older than George had expected. ‘You were in the Sixty-fifth Regiment, I am told, sir?’ the sergeant asked.
‘Yes, indeed I saw service in the Persian Gulf campaign and Mauritius. We were keeping the East India trade routes open while you were defeating Bonaparte. The second battalion of the Eighty-fourth was out there, too. It is recruiting in the Riding at present.’
‘What happened to you when the war with France was over?’
‘I served the King in the West Indies until I lost my dear wife to a fever. I resigned my commission,’ said the surgeon.
‘I am surprised you have chosen to come here, to the South Riding.’
‘London society had no appeal for me without her. I am too old for the hardships of war.Yet it is those very privations that I miss. The railways and industries of Northern England are the nearest I can find to a battlefield. We took a musket ball out of this, you say?’
George winced as the surgeon examined his ragged scarring and prodded the inflamed skin with his fingers. ‘Yes, sir. It took a long while to heal and it’s never been strong since. Now I cannot tolerate the pain without laudanum. Even that does not take it away completely. But it causes me to care less about it.’
‘If you take enough to dull the pain it will dull your senses, too.’
‘Aye, and hasten my end.’
‘I fear the bone is putrid.’
‘Can you cure it?’
‘If I do nothing the poison will spread. But you have survived such fevers once before.’
‘I was twenty years younger then.’
‘You would have had a better chance of recovering from the alternative at that age, too.’
George understood what he was saying. ‘Take it off, you mean?’
‘My saws and knives are the finest Sheffield steel and I have the services here of a field assistant who came home with me from the Indies.’
‘Well, if you did, at least the pain would be gone, and a peg leg would be more use than this one. Will you do it here?’
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