by Abby Ayles
A strange feeling consumed Mary as she watched the doctor speak. Words were seemingly coming out of his mouth, but to Mary, they blended together in a string of mumbles. What was he saying? Mary knew nothing of this sort, nor had she read anything about it in her studies. She would trust the doctor, but she still felt the need to take heed.
“If this is what you recommend, I must agree with your expertise,” Mary replied hesitantly. “I shall have Miss Ramsbottom pack her bags, what will she require?”
The doctor nodded, “Bring me some paper, and I will write down all that she may need. I would also advise that you accompany her to the resort. Good company ought to assist in her recovery. Is there someone who might attend to the house whilst you are away?”
Mary walked over to the bureau and found a sheet of paper and a quill. “I...” She paused as the doctor began listing what Lady Elridge would need. “I believe that the housekeeper can handle everything as we are away.”
“Excellent,” the doctor replied, handing back the list. “Please ensure this is assembled immediately, and a similar number of items for yourself. The sooner we leave, the sooner we arrive, and the sooner your mother shall begin to recover.”
Mary nodded and left to exit her mother’s chambers. Mary knew full well Miss Ramsbottom and the other staff would be waiting outside with their ears to the door—she was right. “My mother is to go to the Isle of Wight. The doctor has recommended these items be prepared for her, and a similar luggage for myself. As I will accompany her, I am leaving the house under the watch of Miss Ramsbottom.”
The staff, realising that Mary was now the highest authority in the house, bowed and curtsied before uttering their collective, “Yes Mistress,” and set off to complete their errands from the list. Mary needed not correct the formality now.
Mary returned to the room where the doctor was applying a watery tincture to Lady Elridge's forehead. Although she was making an effort to remain serene, her heart was thumping so hard her ribcage began to ache. She needed to be strong now, for her mother, her father, her entire home. And yet, she was utterly scared of what was to come.
Chapter Six
Sitting in the coach, Mary was surprised that her mother could sit up. Sir Elridge sold the town coach two years prior, and at this moment, Mary wished they still had it so her mother could be most comfortable. It had been a great trouble for Mary and the maid to dress Lady Elridge for the trip, but Mary refused to let her travel in her day clothes. She may be less than mentally capable right now, but it would be horrible if she discovered upon recovery that she had travelled in common day clothes. And now she sat, in her coat and bonnet, staring out the open window.
The doctor, sitting opposite, had insisted that the window be left open, as the air ought to help with recovery. Besides him they were only accompanied by a single maid and the coach driver to assist with all their needs.
Mary was still not comfortable being in a position of authority. Ordinarily, her mother would be, or her father would have come home to take over. In fact, she had hastily written to him and sent the letter immediately before leaving. But until he was able to help, Mary was the head of the house… Chills ran down her spine as thoughts of the worst flooded her mind.
The journey to the resort was long, and Mary tried desperately to distract herself. However, she could not even bear to read on the way. She had far too much on her mind to be able to focus on a book. Above all, she was afraid for what might happen should her mother not recover. The doctor had said a week, but Mary did not know if he was sparing her heartache, or telling the truth. Without her mother's wise guidance she would not be ready to manage a home. Without that connection to the class above, her chances of marrying up would collapse. And, above all, without her mother's unconditional love and support, she would be very much alone at home and in the world.
So instead, for the first day she simply sat and watched the scenery fly past. Then come nightfall she laid and let exhaustion and worry consume her as she fell asleep. They decided to keep travelling through the night, changing horses every six hours until they got there so as to ensure Lady Elridge received the treatment she required.
* * *
They arrived at the port by nightfall on the third day, long after the last ferry had departed. The doctor fortunately knew of a local inn. He could not stay the night at the same inn to accompany them to the resort in the morning, though. Instead, he made sure that they had some notes describing Lady Elridge's condition and his recommendations. And then he used their coach to return to town.
Mary and the maid paid for their room, then helped Lady Elridge into her night clothes and into bed. Mary herself could not sleep. Instead, she lie awake, wondering what would befall her mother.
The next day, exhausted from a poor night's sleep, Mary barely felt ready to continue on their journey. But they were almost there.
“I shall pack the bags myself, I would like you to go to the ferry and see if we can hire a worker to carry our luggage down,” Mary told the maid, congratulating herself for keeping a straight head.
Lady Elridge was still fast asleep in her bed, and secretly Mary hoped that her mother would awaken and be herself again, bright eyed and ready to go home. But she had no such luck. Lady Elridge awoke with a sigh and continued staring at the ceiling, not moving from where she laid.
“Come, mother, we must get dressed,” Mary insisted, producing a fresh dress from the bags and finding her mother's shoes, coat, and bonnet at the dresser. “We are to continue to the Isle of Wight by ferry, and there you shall receive the care you need.”
Lady Elridge sighed again and Mary realized that she and the maid would need to dress her mother once again. It broke her heart to see such a proud, strong woman in this state.
When the maid returned, they dressed Lady Elridge and prepared the bags for the boy from the ferry to carry down. Mary had never been on a ferry before, but she could not anticipate it with much excitement, not given the circumstances.
* * *
Landing on the Isle of Wight, Mary was relieved to have her feet on solid ground. The ferry ride had made her quite nauseous, and the stress of worrying for her mother was making it even worse. She knew that they were mere minutes away from getting her mother the help she so desperately needed.
To the right, down the beach, there was the village, with its little town houses and beach front stores. But they were headed across the beach and up the hill, towards a solitary manor overlooking the sea. The building itself had a fairly dull, flat face, and from where she was Mary could see the outside beds reserved for patients with tubercular conditions. The curtains billowed in the open windows.
She paid the boy from the ferry to find them a small carriage to transport all three of them, along with their luggage, up the hill. The coach was smaller than she had anticipated, and smelled of wine and salt, but it was better than nothing.
“Soon we shall be there, mother,” she reassured Lady Elridge, holding her hand. “And I am sure that it will help. Why, you look so much more lively just for the change in air.” The sharp chill and the salty mist were nothing like anything Mary had experienced before.
Approaching the front gate was a woman dressed in white. She stood waiting for their coach. She was tall, with black hair, and a worn look on her face that suggested she was not old, but young and very tired. Marry assumed they had been spotted driving up to the manor, and someone had been sent to meet them.
“Good morning, are we expecting you?” the woman asked.
Mary shook her head. “I do not believe so, but our doctor gave us this for you.” She produced the letter and passed it to the woman, who took it, read it, and nodded to herself.
“Very well, I am sure we have a bed in the recovery wing for your mother. Don't worry, she will be right as rain after a few days' rest,” the woman finally said. “Just bring us on up to the front door,” she instructed the coach driver as she stepped in alongside the other three women. “I
am Nurse Cooper, I shall accompany you until a bed is located for your mother and a room for yourself, and then I will hand you over to the care of the chief physician, Dr. Miles Brooks. He ought to know just what to do.”
“Thank you ever so much,” Mary replied with genuine, heartfelt gratitude.
“We see many such cases a year, all should be well once she has rested,” Nurse Cooper reassured her.
The building did not become any less bleak up close. The walls were a shade of off-grey which suggested they had once been darker and more natural, but that the sea winds had worn them more than a little. The garden was kept tidy, but without much in the way of flowers or topiary. The curtains billowing in the windows were all white, and much of the staff was also dressed in white. The entire place had an air of being sanitary, which Mary liked, but it also felt rather lifeless.
Her mother was found a bed in a small room of her own with a large open window overlooking the beach. Mary wondered whether the wind might be a little too cold, but decided not to question the treatment methods, after all, this was a professional institution that had been in operation for decades. They knew what was best for their patients.
Mary also had a room; it was facing inward towards the island, with all the niceties a young woman of her stature deserved, and none of the limitations which the patients needed. Apparently it was not uncommon for women to be accompanied by daughters, daughters in law, mothers, or sisters during their stay at the facility, so in the women's area there was an entire wing dedicated to family who wished to stay.
Having unpacked her bags, Mary decided she needed a walk and some fresh air to help her regain her strength from the journey. After all, it had been an emotional and physically intense couple of days. She still felt completely overwhelmed.
Walking in the garden at the manor was not at all like walking in any garden she knew back home. It was more like a park, with open grassy areas and a few—not particularly decorative—trees. The flower beds were largely bare, and there were no lawn ornaments of any kind. But a walk was a walk.
Mary made her way down to the very bottom of the garden, where a small fence stopped her from advancing any further. A few feet past the fence there was a sharp slope, too steep to walk on, leading down to the beach. She paused there and looked out over the water, at the line of the mainland in the distance.
“Well, I certainly did not expect to see you here,” a man's voice said behind her.
“Mr—Duke Haskett?” She gasped. “Surely I am having some kind of a... vision. How is it you are here?”
He laughed. “I would very much like to ask you the same thing,” he replied. “I assumed I had escaped your family's reach, and yet here you are.”
“My mother has taken ill, the doctor recommended a stay here,” Mary replied. “Now it is your turn. Something about me for something about you.”
“An old friend of mine is here for her rheumatism,” he said, “and she is of the sort to be... dramatic, I suppose you could say. Her parents asked me to come and reassure her that she will be alright, and see to it that she receives everything she needs until she can make a full recovery,” he explained.
“She?” Mary asked. There was a flutter of uncertainty in her voice.
“I assure you, she is but a friend. I would not be dishonest with you if she were another candidate to become my wife,” he replied.
Mary nodded. “I have no option but to trust you.” She looked around. “I believe it would be best for us to return to the house. It is not proper for us to be here together.”
Duke Haskett looked around too and nodded in agreement. “Indeed, I thought there were more people here. Do go on ahead. Shall we meet at the tea rooms in half an hour?”
Mary smiled and curtsied. “I should like that very much.” At the very least it would be a break away from her worries. Or, even better, it may be a way of persuading her mother that all was well with the Duke.
The tea rooms were open to both guests and patients, but as it was mid-morning most patients were in the wards receiving a variety of treatments: tinctures, sea water, leeches and baths. So the tea rooms were virtually empty other than a table where some nurses sat talking quietly and sipping tea, and there was one table where a smartly dressed man was reading a newspaper. Mary felt a little self-conscious sitting down on her own, but comforted herself with the thought that soon she would have polite company with her.
And what a relief that Duke Haskett was simply visiting a friend! It ought to put her mother's mind at ease, which should help her recover from the shock.
When Duke Haskett arrived, it seemed both of them had been thinking along the same lines. “Hello again Mary. I hate to change plans yet again, but it has crossed my mind that your mother may be pleased to see me and know that you are both in good company.”
Mary nodded. “I was having just the same thought myself.”
“Excellent, I must ask you to lead the way,” he replied.
When they arrived, Lady Elridge was sitting up in her bed, looking out the window at the sparkling sea seeming serene, but rather sad too. When she turned to see who had come in through the door, a change came over her. Her eyes lit up and she smiled softly. “Oh, Your Grac—Mr. Haskett, how nice of you to visit,” she said.
Mary felt her eyes water up and rushed to her mother's bedside, taking her hand and squeezing it firmly. “It's... It's wonderful. That's the first she's said since the fall,” she explained. “How are you feeling?”
Lady Elridge shook her head slowly. “Tired, very tired. But I shall recover. And it is so nice to know that you are in good company whilst you wait.”
“I am very sorry to see you in this condition, Lady Elridge,” Duke Haskett said, “and I shall pray for your speedy recovery.” He looked from Lady Elridge to Mary and back again. “I believe that you shall like some time in privacy. Shall we all reunite in the tea rooms at five?”
“That sounds splendid,” replied Lady Elridge, squeezing Mary's hand. “We shall see you then.”
Duke Haskett left the room, softly closing the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, Mary flung her arms around her mother's neck and held her close. “I am so glad you are feeling better, I was so worried for you, I...” She buried her face in her mother's shoulder and choked back a sob. “You scared me.”
Lady Elridge ran her fingers over Mary's hair slowly and softly, shushing her. “All will be well, especially now I know that your suitor is here.”
Mary looked up at her mother's face. “How so?”
“Mary... I was so upset to find out he had left, I assumed you might have done something to insult him, or to make him somehow reconsider. But now I can see he is still interested,” she beamed. “I no longer have any cause to be distressed. But... what brings him here? You did not tell him of my... incident, surely?”
Mary shook her head. “Not at all, he is here seeing a friend of his family's, a lady being treated for rheumatism.”
“An old lady?” Lady Elridge asked.
Mary shook her head again, then reconsidered. “Well, truthfully I do not know. He simply said he was here to reassure her, as she is a bit dramatic.”
Lady Elridge pursed her lips and looked out the window. “Mary, did a maid come with us?”
Mary nodded. “Yes, Suzie.”
“Call her in, I have a job for her,” Lady Elridge replied. “I wish for her to find out who this woman is, how old she is, and the exact nature of her relationship to Mr. Haskett.”
Mary was slightly taken aback. “But mother... that sounds most unnecessary. I do believe it is the illness speaking, and not yourself.”
“Mary, do not question me. Should this woman be a potential candidate for marriage to him, or of a class above ours, she is a threat to your chances. I must know. Now send for Suzie.”
Chapter Seven
Mary was still hesitant. “I... I do not believe that we should be making such decisions now,” she argued. “You are in recovery from som
e quite serious shock. It is possible that you are not making this decision in a proper state of mind.”
“I am most certainly making this decision in a proper state of mind, Mary. Your future depends on us knowing who this woman is,” Lady Elridge replied.
“And should she be another young lady he is seeing?” Mary asked. “It is not as though we could do anything.”
“We can compete,” Lady Elridge insisted. “If we know who she is, what she has to offer, then perhaps we can compete.” She took her daughter's hand and squeezed it tightly. “I only do this for your good. I want you to succeed, to marry up, to live well,” she said.
Mary sighed. She felt she lived well enough. But it was not up to her how she was to live, who she was to marry, or, indeed, whether or not Suzie was sent to spy on Duke Haskett.
“Very well, I shall find her,” Mary said.
Suzie was sitting on her bed in the dormitory which the servants shared, brushing her spare dress down.
“My mother wants to see you,” Mary said.
Suzie curtsied. “Is she well, Mistress?”
Mary shook her head. “I am not sure, but she wishes to see you.”
Suzy followed Mary back to Lady Elridge's room, where she was back to staring out the window, lost in thought. She brightened up as soon as she saw Mary and Suzie were back. Mary closed the door behind them.
“Suzie, I have some important work for you,” Lady Elridge began. “Now, this is a most confidential matter, you are not to relay any of it to anyone, and you must exercise the utmost discretion. Can you manage this?”
Suzie nodded. “I shall attempt to.”
“Good. Now, I have heard that Mr. Haskett is here visiting a friend of his family. A lady friend. And it is in my interests to discover who exactly this lady is, and what she means to him,” Lady Elridge explained. “You must find out her name, where she is staying, what exactly her ailment is, and whether or not she is vying to marry Mr. Haskett.”
