by Rebecca King
“Are you sure?” Hugo asked, thinking of the vast amount of food they had consumed. He felt fine. Could the apple pie have poison in it?
“Why would it be poisoned?” Hugo snapped, fighting the desperation that gnawed at him.
“I don’t know,” Harriett gasped, fighting tears. “It’s the only thing I have eaten that you haven’t – and it tasted strange.” Her eyes locked with his. “Don’t touch it.”
“Is there anything else you can take?” Hugo demanded, thinking of the vast array of jars in the room next door. “There must be something you can take; some mix I can make up for you.”
Harriett couldn’t prevent the tears that flowed from her cheeks. It was an alien feeling to feel the warm moisture trickle down her face. She wasn’t usually a crier, but knew that her situation was desperate. She hated the thought of Hugo’s last memory of her being of her lying in such misery.
Trying to think through the pain was almost impossible. She struggled to block out all thought of the burning sensations spreading through her limbs, and focus on the bottles and potions in the other room.
“Drink the valerian root,” Hugo ordered, helping her to sit upright enough to drink the tea. She drank as much as she could before she pushed it away, crying out as another wave of pain swept through her.
Within minutes she was sick again, and realised that now, even her beloved plants and herbs wouldn’t save her.
“Harriett,” Hugo whispered, watching with alarm as her eyelids fluttered. Her breathing had changed to short pants and her hair was curling at her temples with sweat.
“Go, Hugo,” Harriett gasped, fighting her growing tiredness to lift her eyes to his. “Please go. I don’t want you here for this.”
“I’m going nowhere,” Hugo declared, easing her hair away from her face. “Tell me what to do to help you.”
He stared in horror as she slowly, gently shook her head. Her eyes met and held his and he knew what she was trying to tell him. The reason for her tears was apparent and he knew that she understood what lay in store for her.
“It’s going to get worse before I go,” she gasped.
“You are not going anywhere,” Hugo said flatly. “There has to be something.”
“I can’t take any tinctures or teas; you have seen the results. There is nothing else - even the doctor cannot do anything to help,” she added, in case he took it into his head to fetch the man anyway. It wasn’t that she had any objection to being treated by him, and risk losing her reputation in the process. It didn’t seem important any more, but she knew it was giving false hope where there was none.
“You won’t simply give up on me,” Hugo ordered, fighting growing desperation. He had fought in wars, and been in more skirmishes than anyone should have to face, and had come out alive. He had ordered men into battle, and chosen to walk into danger, and dealt with everything with an efficiency that had brought about startling results. He was a man of action, who was used to getting what he wanted. It didn’t sit well that he should simply stand back and allow nature to take its course, especially with her.
Harriett simply couldn’t die. Not Harriett.
He leaned over her, his face inches from hers, and waited until she lifted her gaze to meet his.
“You are not going to leave me,” he whispered harshly, fighting the lump of desperation that lodged in his throat. “You are going to get through this, Harriett. Don’t you give up on me!”
She was touched by the stark concern on his face and wondered if he blamed himself for her illness. Lifting one trembling hand, she placed it against the stubble of his lean cheek.
“There are some things in life you simply cannot fight,” she whispered. “There is nothing anyone can do now.”
“You have a workroom full of potions and mixes. Tell me what to make you. It is worth a try.” Hugo watched a strange dullness enter her eyes, and cursed fluidly. “Don’t you dare just accept this!”
Harriett openly let the tears flow. She had never had anyone show such concern for her welfare before. Although Simon regularly dropped by, of late with increasing frequency, his visits had until recently been stilted and awkward. It was strange to see someone like Hugo exhibit such emotion, especially for someone like her.
“This isn’t your fault. There is nothing you can do.” She struggled to find words he could relate to. “In this battle, you have to know when to withdraw and accept defeat.”
“I have never accepted defeat in anything, and I won’t do so now. You are not going to leave me.” Hugo’s voice was harsh and he fought to withhold the burning fury that began to bubble within him. When he got his hands on the culprit responsible for this, they would know what it was like to be on the receiving end of retribution.
“In the workroom, on the bottom shelf there is an old book. It is my grandmothers and has some old potions that aren’t used any more. There may be something in there that could work, but I don’t know if I have all the plants.” Harriett watched as Hugo stalked into the workroom. Having found the book, he slammed it down on the table and began to rifle through it.
Harriett knew that by the time he had found the right potion, if there was one, it would be too late to make it and let it work its magic.
“Do you know any spells?” Hugo shouted, hearing her retching again. Driven with a desperate urgency that made him clumsy, Hugo began to sift through page after page of tiny scrawl, struggling to make sense of it. He had no idea what he was looking for, but he could identify the word ‘poison’. If it was in the book, he was going to find it.
After several moments he had come up with nothing. Tossing the book aside in disgust, he turned to the bedroom, staring in horror at Harriett, limp and unconscious. Her panting had grown more rapid, her face was deathly white. He made a decision.
Wrapping her carefully in a blanket, he added a fresh binding around his arm, and snatched up the saddle, leaving the safety of the cottage to fetch his horse. He took a few precious moments to don his pistol, before scooping an unconscious Harriett off the bed and stalking out of the house.
It was intensely difficult getting himself and Harriett onto the horse, but the animal stood patiently while Hugo struggled and eventually got himself seated with Harriett draped across his knees. He didn’t know which way to go to get to the Manor, and couldn’t risk getting lost. He was left with only one option - the doctor in Padstow. Without hesitation, Hugo nudged his horse in that direction and took off.
Minutes later he thundered into Padstow, aware of the startled looks and gasps of the locals as they realised who he was carrying. He stopped beside one old fisherman who was coiling ropes on the harbour wall.
“Where is the doctor?” he demanded, not wanting to spare precious moments on preliminaries. Despite his age, the old man snapped to attention, and his shocked eyes locked on Harriett for a moment before he beckoned frantically at a young boy who was watching from further down the path.
“Go warn the doctor, now, boy,” the man snapped, pushing the young lad into action before turning to Hugo.
“If you go around the harbour, take a left at the pie shop. Follow the road round to the left, and the doctor is half-way up the hill.”
Hugo nodded, and muttered his thanks before nudging his horse into a steady trot. He heard the man’s final words but didn’t stop to consider them until later.
“God bless ye, gel,” met his ears numerous times as he passed the various locals who had come out to watch. Word obviously spread quickly around Padstow, as people of all ages came out to see what was happening for themselves. Some of the women were openly weeping; others crossed themselves and hurried after the horse.
By the time Hugo reached the doctors house, the narrow streets were lined with locals who escorted him to the right door. Within moments he was ushered into the doctor’s examining room, unsurprised to hear the low hum of voices outside.
“What happened?” The doctor, a fairly young gentleman, lifted Harriett’s eyelids, stu
dying her closely as he waited for Hugo to update him.
“She has been poisoned,” Hugo gasped, aware of the man studying his bound arm, which was now slightly bleeding.
“What with?” The doctor was business-like as he took her pulse and studied her complexion.
“I don’t know. She knew she had been poisoned. She ate some pie someone left her, and said the apples tasted too sour. They had a bitter aftertaste so she left the rest. She had one bite!” Hugo tried to control his panic, and knew he had raised his voice. The calm, almost too controlled demeanour of the doctor made Hugo want to shake him into action.
“Has she been sick?”
“Violently. Then she began to tremble and shake and was in so much pain. She has tried mint and valerian root but couldn’t keep either down.”
The doctor moved to the door. “Marion!” he bellowed, leaving the door open and returning to Harriett.
Within minutes a matronly lady appeared in the doorway, her curious gaze locked on Harriett.
“Get me milk, and lots of it, Marion. Quickly!”
“Yes sir!” The woman left.
“We have got to get the poison out of her system if she is going to survive. Mint, you say? Did you bring any more with you?”
Hugo mentally cursed and shook his head regretfully. “I didn’t think to. She also used valerian root.”
“It’s all right. Where did you leave them?”
Hugo told him and watched as the man lifted the front window and bellowed for help. Within seconds a sea of faces appeared before him.
“I need someone trustworthy to go to Harriett’s cottage and get the jar of mint and valerian root and bring them back here. Quickly now!” He slammed the window shut and turned in time to watch Marion appear in the doorway, two large jugs of milk in her hands.
“Let’s sit her up,” he said, rolling up his sleeves and eyeing Hugo warily. “I hope you are here to help because it is going to be a very long day.”
“Doesn’t matter. If you can save her, I’ll sell you my bloody soul,” Hugo declared, rolling up his own sleeves.
“Get a bucket, Marion,” the doctor ordered, moving to the table.
“What is your name?” Hugo asked. “I can’t call you ‘doctor’ all day.”
“Joshua Baintree. I take it you know Harriett well?”
“She is my fiancée,” Hugo replied, aware of the man’s startled look. “We met when she went to a friend’s wedding.”
“The Trevelyan sisters – Eliza and Jemima?”
Hugo nodded. “They were best friends as children.”
“I thought I had seen you before,” the Doctor muttered. “You were the man commanding the Redcoats who rid us of those smugglers.” Respect and gratitude shone in his voice, along with something else Hugo couldn’t define.
“That’s right. My name’s Sir Hugo Dunnicliffe.” The men shook hands over Harriett.
“Let’s get her back on her feet then, shall we?”
Hugo stared at the man on the opposite side of the table. “Do you think you can?”
Joshua turned a steady gaze on him. “I am not sure. The poison may already have spread too far, but I am not prepared to give up without a fight. We do need her potions, though. You gave her valerian root?”
“She had it as a tea - apparently it kills pain.”
“Excellent. Well, when it arrives we’ll use that. Until then we need to get the milk into her.”
Hugo didn’t wait to ask, and helped sit Harriett up.
CHAPTER SIX
Joshua was right. It was a very long day, and an even longer night, for all of them - including the people outside who had remained, patiently waiting for news of one of their own.
Night had fallen, and still Harriett remained unresponsive. The awful panting continued, and she had yet to respond to the variety of treatments they had given her.
The milk they had given her had made her repeatedly sick. Then they had given her the valerian root tea, and Marion had made a mint tea to mix with it some time later.
By the following mid-afternoon, she had stopped vomiting and had kept down the last few cups of tea they had given her. Although the sweating had continued, the trembling had stopped. But Hugo wasn’t certain if that was a good thing or not, given that Harriett had yet to wake up and talk to them.
He would only relax when he could look into her beautiful green eyes and hear her melodic voice again.
He didn’t need to look out of the window to know that the villagers were still there.
“What are they waiting for?” Hugo asked, nodding at the low hum of voices coming from outside.
“They are waiting to hear if she is all right.”
“To see if the witch is dead?” Hugo snorted, thinking of Harriett living alone in that cottage, spending her days treating the villagers who didn’t give a damn about her.
They were interrupted by a knock on the door, and a young lad appeared, clearly uncomfortable at being sent inside. He stood hesitantly in the doorway, his gaze locked on Harriett for several moments as he twisted his cloth cap nervously in his fingers.
“Please sir? I’ve been sent to ask how the young miss is doing,” the boy gulped, casting a worried glance at the woman in question before raising fear-filled eyes to the doctor. “She is going to make it, isn’t she?” Hope laced his voice.
Hugo heard Joshua sigh, and frowned. “At this moment, you can tell everyone that we simply don’t know. She has been poisoned and is extremely poorly. That’s all I can say right now, lad. The rest is up to Harriett.”
“Thank you, sir,” the boy mumbled, looking crestfallen as he took his leave.
Hugo was confused. “Do the villagers really care about her, or are they just being curious because the witch has had to seek the doctor’s help?”
Joshua sighed, and slumped wearily into a seat beside the table, waving Hugo into the chair opposite.
“I can’t say that she hasn’t taken a fair amount of work away from me. Indeed, I know a lot of patients would rather go to Harriett than me, mainly because they knew her mother. Besides which, her skills are legendary in this area. People I would have given up on have turned to Harriett, who has cured them. It hasn’t done much for her reputation as a witch because one or two people have wondered if their miraculous recovery was down to witchcraft. Personally, I don’t believe it. At some point I would love to speak to Harriett and learn some of her knowledge. Her abilities are simply astounding.” Joshua yawned, and stretched his shoulders.
He didn’t add that Harriett was beautiful, and most of the men in the village held her in high regard, not considering themselves worthy of such a wonderful creature.
“Over the course of time, she has probably treated everyone in the village. They all know her and although she refuses to become part of village life in the way they would like her to, they all look at her fondly and consider them one of her own. She is something of an enigma to most of us.”
Hugo was stunned. It was the last thing he had expected to hear, but the people outside, and the young lad’s visit, added to the fear and worry on the villagers’ faces as they had followed him through the village, all supported Joshua’s version of things. He wondered what had happened to give Harriett such a skewed view on her life in the village.
“They are going to be a mite angry to learn that she is marrying and likely to move away.” Joshua opened one eye to peer at the exhausted man opposite. “I take it you do plan to take her away from here?”
Hugo considered that for a moment. When he had declared she was his fiancée earlier, he hadn’t stopped to consider that questions would be asked. Right now he didn’t have the answers. Marriage wasn’t something he had considered. He couldn’t conceive of settling down. Inside though, he knew that if he was going to settle down, then it would have to be with someone like Harriett.
“I don’t know. She will be reluctant to leave here. It is such a beautiful place, and this is where she was born and raised
. I might just build something bigger nearby so she can continue her work,” Hugo added softly with a frown, wondering if he would build her something more comfortable for her to live in alone.
“What do you do for a living?” Joshua asked, his gaze almost piercing as he stared at Hugo.
Hugo paused. Although the question was a casual one, the tone of Joshua’s voice was just a little too intense to be mild curiosity. “I work for the army, but also have an estate in Yorkshire,” he replied vaguely.
In essence, it was part truth. A small niggling voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he had a family of his own in Yorkshire who hadn’t heard from him for many years, but he quickly closed those thoughts off.
“I need to send word to her father,” Hugo added, realising that Simon probably had no idea what had happened.
“Marion will make sure that someone goes to the Manor to tell him.”
“I don’t think he is at home; he has gone away on business.” Hugo replied.
“We need the send the villagers home for the night.” Joshua motioned Hugo to follow him.
When the door opened, Hugo was stunned to see what appeared to be most of the villagers still waiting patiently. Silence settled over them as soon as the door opened.
“I suggest you all go home for the night,” Joshua ordered loudly.
“Is Harriett going to be all right?” a voice shouted from somewhere in the crowd.
“What is wrong with her?” another voice from nearby asked.
Joshua raised his hands upward to stem the flow of questions and turned to Hugo.
“This is Sir Hugo Dunnicliffe, Harriett’s fiancé. He dropped by Harriett’s to check on her, and found her on the floor. It appears she has been poisoned.” He waited patiently for the flurry of gasps and murmuring to die down a little, before adding, “Right now, she is very poorly but is stable. We really cannot say any more than that at the moment.”
“I know you!” Someone shouted from the back of the crowd, pointing toward Hugo. “You were with the Redcoats.”
“Sir Dunnicliffe works for the army and met Harriett while making plans to rid us of the smugglers,” Joshua added, giving Hugo a rueful look.
