by Jane Jackson
‘I’d appreciate that, thank you.’
‘Dear life.’ He shook his head in sympathy. ‘All due respect, miss, but you’re having some time of it.’
‘Told Mr Penrose yet, have you?’ Broad asked, trying to unscrew the top off a dented oblong tin, another tucked under his arm.
‘Not yet.’ Kerenza had been trying not to think about that. But clearly he would have to be told. Courtesy, as well as necessity, demanded she be the one to tell him. Part of her dreaded seeing him again because of all the turmoil it would stir up. But the other part, the deeper, yearning, treacherous part, was already reasoning that the cause was legitimate, not merely an excuse.
‘I think I had better do it now. Mr Toy, do you know if the captain has – had – any medical books?’
‘What do you want they for?’ Toy asked, bewildered.
Broad rolled his eyes in exasperation. ‘Why d’you think?’
Kerenza explained. ‘I’m hoping that one might have a chapter about – that would be helpful in – in the current situation.’
‘Doctor prob’ly had books,’ Broad said thoughtfully. ‘Bound to. He left a great pile of stuff when he jumped ship in Jamaica.’ He lowered his voice, shooting Kerenza a meaningful look. ‘Bit too partial to the rum, he was. I mean, we all like a drop now and then to keep out the cold. But –’ An indrawn breath hissed between his teeth as he shook his head. ‘Used to get the shakes something awful, he did. Like a leaf in a gale. I wouldn’t trust him to sew on a button, let alone sewing up –’
‘Miss Vyvyan don’t want to hear none of that,’ Toy interrupted, glaring at the steward before turning back to Kerenza. ‘If I remember right, the captain, God rest his soul, dumped all of the doctor’s stuff in one of the sea berths. You ask Mr Penrose, miss. He’ll know.’
‘Bring anything to wrap these in, did you?’ Broad held up the two tins. ‘They’ll be too hot to carry like they are.’
Kerenza raised empty hands. ‘Sorry, I didn’t think.’
‘Don’t you worry. I’ll find something in the slop chest, a strip of old blanket or something. ’Tis all clean,’ he assured quickly. ‘Cap’n always made certain we carried spare clothes and a blanket or two. Some of the men we take on haven’t got a rag to their back, poor bugg – poor souls,’ he amended hastily.
Kerenza was thinking hard, trying to recall the relevant snippets of information overheard in conversations in the village shops, and between her grandmother and Lizzie Gendall.
‘I don’t suppose the chest might contain any sheets or towels?’
Broad looked doubtful. ‘No call for anything fancy like that in the fo’c’sle, miss.’
‘Oh well, never mind. Anything soft and clean will do. Old shirts would be fine, especially if they are linen or cotton. I will need to tear them up. But I’ll make sure they are replaced,’ she promised quickly.
‘Don’t you go fretting about that just now, miss,’ Broad said. ‘You got more’n enough on your mind.’
Far too much. Kerenza forced a smile. ‘I must get back. I promised I wouldn’t be long.’
‘You go and tell Mr Penrose, then, miss,’ Toy said. ‘I’ll bring a tray to your cabin soon as the kettle have boiled again.’
At the door Kerenza hesitated. ‘You will try to be quiet, won’t you?’ she begged. ‘Lady Russell doesn’t – she’s anxious none of the other passengers is disturbed.’
‘Yes, and we all know who she mean by that,’ Broad muttered darkly. ‘Can’t say as I blame her neither. One partic’lar person – naming no names – have done nothing but complain since coming aboard. I seen her kind before. Wouldn’t give you the time of day if she could charge for it. And about as much use as a ripped sail. Well, we seen that the other day. But you can forget her, miss. She won’t wake.’
Kerenza fought the overwhelming temptation to ask how he could be so sure. She felt guilty already that she had not stopped him. Asking him to explain was completely out of the question. But it seemed Broad was determined she should know why.
‘Doses herself, she do, from a great bottle of paregoric. Billy seen it when he collected the slops. It was full when she come aboard but ’tis near enough empty now.’ He nodded confidently. ‘She won’t wake, miss.’
Kerenza tried not to show her shock. If Betsy Woodrow had consumed a bottle of camphorated tincture of opium in ten days she must have the constitution of an ox. Or be accustomed to it. She turned to go, swept by a wave of sympathy for the minister.
Opening the saloon door into the passage, and greeted once again by the loud, saw-like snores, Kerenza released the breath she had been holding. Back inside the cabin, she crouched beside Judith.
‘Broad found two tin bottles and is filling them. He’ll bring them along as soon as he finds something to wrap them in. And Toy is making some tea. How are you?’
About to answer, Judith screwed her eyes shut, her face contorting as another pain gripped her, clearly longer and stronger than earlier ones.
Kerenza watched, feeling wretchedly helpless. Then, acting on instinct, she abandoned diffidence and caution and slipped her hand into Judith’s.
Judith gripped her fingers tightly. As the pain passed her face relaxed and, opening her eyes, she smiled tiredly. ‘You are such a comfort. A cup of tea sounds wonderful.’
‘I have to leave you again.’
‘Must you?’
‘For a few minutes only. The doctor may have left some medical books behind. As this is the first time for both of us I want to be sure I do everything properly.’
Judith moved her head uneasily on the pillow. ‘Please don’t be long. I know it’s foolish of me, but when I am alone I start to feel afraid.’
‘No, you are not to worry.’ Kerenza projected into her voice all the confidence and reassurance she could muster. ‘Everything is going to be fine. Just try to rest. Between us we will cope admirably.’
A groove appeared between Judith’s brows. ‘This is not at all suitable, you know.’
Glancing round the cabin, Kerenza shrugged. ‘Well, no, it’s not,’ she agreed. ‘These are not the surroundings anyone would have chosen, but –’
‘No,’ Judith broke in. ‘I mean it’s not suitable that you, given your age and unmarried status, should have to –’
‘Now you sound just like Mrs Woodrow.’
Though weak and a little breathless, Judith’s laugh was genuine. ‘God forbid.’
‘I promise you, I have a good idea of what will happen. It’s one of the many benefits of living in a village. One overhears all kinds of useful things in shops and at tea parties when the married ladies are talking.’ Squeezing Judith’s hand she stood up. ‘I’ll be back before you have time to miss me.’
Outside in the dark passage she leant against the bulkhead, trembling slightly from reaction and shocked at the ease and fluency with which she had embroidered the truth – no, lied. Yet what else could she have done? Judith’s labour had begun and all the wishes in the world would not halt it now. Of course it would be better, safer, and more suitable if among the passengers there were a married woman who had borne children of her own. Such a person would be of far greater use to Judith than herself. But there was only her. One thing she was sure of, and it was plain common sense: the mother-to-be needed to be kept calm and as free of worry as possible.
Circumstances could hardly be worse. If bluff, even lies, would help Judith through her ordeal, then she would supply them. Judith had befriended and protected her. The hours ahead offered an opportunity to repay that kindness.
Her father’s cabin was dark as she passed. Leaning close, she heard the slow reverberation of deep sleep. But a strip of light beneath the captain’s door indicated that Nick was still awake, even at this hour.
Her pulse quickened and she was suddenly acutely aware of the loose braid hanging over her right shoulder, the old shawl tied across her gown, and her bare legs. She shut her mind to such concerns. This was not about her. Right now, except to Ju
dith, she was of no importance. It was Judith who mattered. She raised a hand and tapped softly.
‘Yes?’ He sounded preoccupied and very tired.
Bracing herself she opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it again, all in one swift movement.
‘Ker – Miss Vyvyan?’ he corrected himself. Dropping the pen with which he had been writing, he rose quickly to his feet and slid out from behind the table.
Jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms, shirt loose at the neck where threads of dark hair curled at the base of his throat, the intimacy of his dishevelled appearance made her once more aware of her own. A wave of heat engulfed her. She was glad to be outside the circle of light cast by the lamp.
Anxious that he should not misconstrue the secrecy of her visit, or her reasons for coming, she launched quickly into explanation.
‘I’m so sorry to disturb you. But both Toy and Broad thought you should be informed at once. I would have told you anyway, though perhaps not quite yet –’
He raised a hand to stop her. ‘Told me what?’
He looked so tired.
‘It’s Lady Russell. She’s not – That is, she’s –’ She faltered.
‘Is she unwell? She must be, otherwise you would not be here. What’s wrong? I thought – Did you not tell me she was unharmed by her accident?’
Alert for accusation, Kerenza heard only an effort to wrench his thoughts from whatever had occupied them before her arrival and focus on this new development.
‘I did, and she was. She’s not ill exactly –’ She gave up. There was no time to dress the matter in tactful phrases. She moistened her lips. ‘The pains she was having are not, after all, the result of a pulled muscle. I think the baby is coming.’
Nick stiffened. ‘Are you sure?’
Lifting her palms, Kerenza blurted, ‘I’m not sure of anything. But she believes it to be the case. Anyway, the reason I’m here – Toy says the doctor might have left some medical textbooks behind. If he did, I’m hoping one of them will have a chapter on – on how to manage a confinement. He thought they might have been stored in one of the sea berths?’
Nick shook his head. ‘No, they are definitely not there. But it’s possible –’ Turning, he wrenched up the seat on which he’d been sitting and looked into the space beneath. As he dropped it again, Kerenza’s heart fell with it and she clasped her hands together, trying to contain her anxiety. Moving to the other side and propping the seat against the back, he reached in, raked around, and lifted out two battered volumes, their leather covers scratched and fraying at the corners. Replacing the seat, he opened the top one.
‘Observations on the Diseases Incident to Seamen,’ he read off the title page. ‘I hardly think you are likely to find any help here.’
Holding her breath in desperate hope, she watched him run his index finger down the list of contents. ‘May I have the other one? If we both look –’
Glancing up, he passed her the second book. ‘Have you considered asking Mrs Woodrow –?’
‘No.’ She didn’t wait for him to finish. ‘Mrs Woodrow is not a mother. Besides, Ju – Lady Russell asked me not to wake her. In fact, she forbade it. She – she was kind enough to say that she prefers my company.’ She heard the note of defiance, but it was too late. She could not take it back now. Let him make of it what he would.
‘Who could blame her?’ he said softly, returning his gaze to the page. ‘Mrs Woodrow may possess some excellent qualities, but if compassion and kindness are among them, they remain well-hidden. Whereas you –’
Kerenza’s breath caught and her heart gave a great leap.
‘According to Toy, who has good reason to know, you possess both in quantity.’
Hot, confused, she bent her head over the book, angling it toward the light and turning the pages with trembling fingers.
Nick cleared his throat. ‘Please believe I intend no offence, but have you any experience of – in these matters?’
She shook her head. She’d had no experience of battle wounds either. And while she had watched, helpless, the captain had died. She closed her eyes, willing the terror away. Suddenly a spark of hope flared and she looked up at him.
‘Have you?’
His eyes grew wide, and had the situation not been so fraught she might have laughed at his expression. ‘No!’
She shrugged, trying to hide disappointment and the stirring of fear. ‘I just thought perhaps – Broad mentioned two previous occasions –’
‘Both were managed by the doctor. Also the lady had a companion with her to assist.’
‘I must get back.’ She turned to leave, clutching the book like a talisman. She had not, at first glance, found what she sought, but it might yet be there. ‘I promised I would not be long.’
He followed her. ‘I will tell Toy to move your trunk into my cabin.’ Shock jerked her head round and she saw his startled frown as he shook his head, indicating a sliding door in the bulkhead above the seat. ‘I’m sleeping in one of the sea berths.’
The sudden tightening round his mouth told her he had not been able yet to move into his uncle’s sleeping cabin. Remembering the smells, the blood-soaked rags and sodden blanket, she shuddered, and understood. That was how he had known the doctor’s books were not where Toy had suggested.
‘Surely it would be easier for you and Lady Russell if you had more space?’
Of course it would. Hot with embarrassment, she strove for dignity. ‘Thank you.’
Leaving the day cabin, acutely aware of him behind her, so close, yet on opposite sides of a chasm of hurt and misunderstanding, she glimpsed two blacker shadows silhouetted in the saloon doorway.
Chapter Eleven
‘I got the bottles here, miss. All right, Mr Penrose?’ Broad murmured.
Tucking the book under her arm, Kerenza took them. Now wrapped in strips of blanket, their warmth was instantly comforting. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
‘Tea’s here, miss,’ Toy added.
‘I’ll be back in a moment.’ She left Nick conferring with the two men and went into the cabin. Tossing the book onto her cot, she placed one bottle by Judith’s feet then leant in to put the other at her back.
‘How often are the pains coming?’
Releasing a shuddering breath, Judith drew another and let it out more easily. ‘That was the first since you left.’
How long had she been with Nick? Ten minutes? Less?
‘Toy is waiting outside with the tea. And to afford us more space, Mr Penrose has suggested taking my trunk to his cabin now that he has moved into the captain’s. May I allow them in to remove it?’
‘Yes.’
Kerenza heard the uncertainly and guessed Judith felt keenly the indignity of her situation. ‘It will only take a moment, then we will be private again.’
‘They won’t disturb Mrs Woodrow, will they?’
‘According to Broad,’ Kerenza confided as she helped Judith lever herself up against the pillows, ‘even cannon fire would not disturb Mrs Woodrow tonight. Apparently she is a firm believer in the sedative powers of paregoric.’
Judith blew a sigh of relief. ‘Thank God. But I doubt Mr Woodrow is. I would be happier if he were not woken.’
As Kerenza opened the door, Toy thrust two cups into her hands.
‘No use bringing a tray, miss,’ he hissed. ‘’T’would have slid about all over the place. I thought cups would be easier.’
Passing one cup to Judith, Kerenza stood in front of the cot, a human shield, while the two men lifted her trunk and manoeuvred it out into the passage. She gulped down the tea. Hot and strong, it revived and steadied her. As she followed Broad and Toy to close the door, Nick was waiting.
‘Is there anything else you need?’
Kerenza thought hard. ‘Broad said I might have two shirts from the slop chest, for clean rags? A spare blanket would be useful. An old one,’ she added quickly, ‘in case – there could – it might get –’
‘Yes, I understand,’ he interrupted much to her relief.
‘A bucket, again an old one, and hot water.’
‘Would you like another lamp?’
‘Oh yes, that would be marvellous.’
‘Shall I take that?’ He indicated her empty cup.
‘Thank you.’ Handing it to him, she was overwhelmed by a confusion of yearning and uncertainty. It would be foolish to read too much into his willingness to help. No doubt his gratitude was genuine. But she must never forget that Judith was an important passenger and his responsibility. It was natural – indeed, to be expected – that he would do everything possible to secure the comfort and safety of the wife of an important member of the Governor’s staff. But until the packet reached the Rock it was in her desperately nervous and inexperienced hands that the wellbeing of both Judith and her baby lay.
‘I’ll bring everything as soon as I –’
‘You need not come yourself,’ Kerenza blurted. ‘One of the stewards can –’
His expression hardened and she sensed his withdrawal. ‘As you wish.’ Abruptly he turned away.
She was angry with herself, and with him, for there was no time now to explain – even had he been willing to listen – her awareness that even at this hour he had still been working and that in coming to his cabin she had interrupted him. She closed the door. Drawing a deep breath she hoped would calm the turbulence inside and refocus her attention, she fixed a smile to her mouth as she turned to Judith.
‘Are you warmer now?’
‘I am, thank you. And the tea has eased my thirst. Did you find a book?’
‘Yes.’ Lifting it from her cot, Kerenza carried it closer to the lamp.
‘Can you see to read?’
‘Yes.’ She checked the chapter list again. ‘Mr Penrose has kindly offered another lamp. It should be here shortly. Ah, I think I’ve found what we need.’
‘Good.’ The strain in Judith’s voice brought Kerenza’s head up. Dropping the book, she knelt and held Judith’s hand as her breathing quickened, and her lips peeled back from her teeth in a grimace of agony. Drawing her legs up, Judith writhed as the contraction gathered strength, peaked, and slowly subsided. She sagged against the pillows, and passed her hand across her face.
