The Swan Maid

by Dilly Court

  ‘That, my dear, is the major-general’s problem, not mine. Now, if you’ll forgive me, I have to return to the barracks. We leave on the morning tide and there is much to do.’ He rose to his feet and looked down at her with an indulgent smile. ‘As I’ve heard it, you have been the toast of the town. The society here will be rather dull, I fear, when you have left.’

  ‘I expect it will, but I’m more than ready to depart.’

  ‘I’ll see to it that you have the best billet Balaklava has to offer, Aurelia.’ He hurried from the room, acknowledging Lottie with a brief nod of his head.

  ‘He’s a good man,’ Lottie said as the door closed on him, ‘and he’s devoted to you, my lady.’

  Aurelia sighed and reached for her wineglass. ‘Yes, he is. In some ways I wish the child was his. He would have loved to have a son to carry on the family name.’

  Lottie stared at her, shocked. ‘Are you sure he’s not the father, my lady?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I’m quite certain, but he must never know. I think he would kill Farrell if he were to discover the truth, or at the very least he would have him cashiered and made to suffer the ignominy of a dishonourable discharge.’

  ‘Then why are we going to the Crimea, my lady?’ Lottie asked in desperation. ‘Wouldn’t it be better to remain at home? You could have the baby in safety and the colonel would return to find he was a father.’

  ‘You don’t understand, Lottie. Dashwood has never been demanding when it comes to conjugal rights, if you understand my meaning. It’s going to be difficult enough to convince him that he fathered my child, but if he is there when it’s born he might accept it as his own.’

  Lottie felt the blood rush to her cheeks. The intimate side of Lady Aurelia’s marriage was none of her business. ‘I see,’ she said vaguely.

  ‘I know I have a reputation as a flirt, but Farrell was my first true love and nothing will ever change that. I just want to be close to him, and I don’t care about the danger, but now I won’t see him for weeks.’

  Forgetting her lowly status, Lottie wrapped her arms around her mistress and held her while she sobbed.

  Three weeks later they set sail for the Crimea. The new screw steamer was sleek and fast, and even though it was mid-November the weather was reasonably calm at the start. But the Bay of Biscay proved to be Cordelia’s undoing and she took to her cabin with Cole looking after her. Lottie was surprised and pleased to find that she was an excellent sailor, and despite the cramped living conditions, she discovered a love of sailing and a deep respect for the ocean in all its moods. Leaning on the ship’s rail, watching the white-crested waves was a constant source of pleasure mixed with awe at the power of the sea. The worries that beset her on shore seemed far away, and the war in the Crimea assumed the dimensions of something she might have read about in a book. Even though she knew that this period of calm could not last for ever, she was almost sorry when land came into sight.

  Their first port of call was Malta and when they docked in Valletta they were able to disembark. The prospect of visiting a foreign country was exciting, but Mrs Fothergill made a miraculous recovery once she set foot on firm ground, and insisted on chaperoning Aurelia, even though she had Hansford to act as bodyguard.

  Their stay was supposed to be a brief one for taking on water and supplies of fresh food, but engine trouble kept them in port. The captain informed his passengers that he had had to send to Gibraltar for a vital part of the machinery and that might take several weeks. Aurelia was angry at the delay and restive, but Lottie took it all in her stride and spent as much time ashore as possible. Mrs Fothergill made friends with the wife of the commander of the barracks in Valletta, and it was left to Hansford to chaperone Lady Aurelia and Lottie during their excursions on the island.

  Lottie was surprised to find that there were a large number of British women and children in Valletta: army wives and camp followers who were waiting for permission to join their men in the Crimea. She discovered, talking to one young woman who had travelled far from home in her attempt to join her husband, that only a very few were given the small white card which read ‘to go’, and even then they were not allowed to take their children. The quota system was very strict, although some women got round it by offering their services as laundresses or cooks, and missing Gideon as she did, Lottie could understand their need to be close to their men. Aurelia was risking everything, including the life of her unborn child, in order to be with Gillingham, and with each passing week her condition was becoming more and more difficult to conceal. Her trips ashore became less frequent and she spent much of her time lying on the bunk in the cabin she shared with Lottie. She grew pale and listless and Lottie was worried about her health, but she had no one to turn to. It would have been pointless to confide in Cordelia, who had never gone through the experience of pregnancy and childbirth.

  The captain was vague as to when they might expect the repairs to be completed, and it was becoming obvious that they would spend Christmas moored alongside. Aurelia was tearful and petulant, but to Lottie’s surprise it was Cordelia who brought an end to Aurelia’s self-imposed imprisonment.

  She burst into their cabin on Christmas morning, dressed in her outdoor clothes. ‘Just look at you, Lady Aurelia. What would your husband say if he could see you lounging about in bed? Stop moping, get up and get dressed. We’re going to church.’

  Aurelia turned her face to the bulkhead. ‘I don’t feel well, Cordelia. You’ll have to go without me.’

  ‘You don’t feel well because you need fresh air and exercise.’ Cordelia tugged at the coverlet. ‘It’s no wonder you’re getting fat. Lying about all day and eating your head off isn’t good for you. Colonel Dashwood will hardly recognise you by the time we reach Balaklava.’

  ‘Go away, Cordelia. I’m unwell.’

  Lottie had been hovering in the background, but she could see that Mrs Fothergill was not about to give up. ‘Perhaps some fresh air would be good for you, my lady,’ she suggested tentatively. ‘I’ll help you get dressed.’

  ‘The girl is right. Get up, Aurelia. I command it as the wife of your husband’s superior officer. I’ll wait for you on deck, but if you’re not ready in ten minutes I’ll want to know the reason why.’ She backed out of the small cabin, leaving Aurelia staring after her.

  ‘I can’t believe she had the temerity to tell me what to do,’ she said tearfully. ‘Follow the woman, Lottie. Tell her to go to hell.’

  ‘No, my lady. I hate to say it, but Mrs Fothergill is right. You should get up and go ashore for a while. You’re making yourself ill and you might be harming the baby.’

  ‘Nonsense. It’s the child that’s making me like this. I don’t want to be a mother. I hate being swollen and bloated like a whale, and if I go out looking like this everyone will know.’

  Lottie helped her to a sitting position. ‘We could raise your hoop a bit higher, and if you wear that smart fur-trimmed cape no one will be any the wiser.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Aurelia said reluctantly. ‘I must admit that I’m sick to death of being shut up in this cabin.’

  ‘Then let me help you.’ Lottie selected a grey silk morning gown from the cabin trunk. ‘I moved the buttons on the bodice so this should fit well. You are still quite small, my lady. A touch of rouge and a smile will work wonders.’

  A shadow of a smile flitted across Aurelia’s pale features. ‘You are a determined minx when you put your mind to it, Lottie. You win. I’ll go to church and hope that God doesn’t strike me down for the sinner that I am.’

  The spare part needed to restore the ship’s engine to working order arrived two days later and the vessel set sail for Constantinople on New Year’s Day. Lottie encouraged her mistress to take daily walks on deck, and the weather improved as they approached the Greek archipelago. She put her worries for Gideon’s safety aside in her attempt to keep Aurelia from fretting, and Hansford was an unexpected ally. He seemed to know instinctively if Aurelia needed a strong arm to clin
g to on days when the choppy sea made walking on deck hazardous, and his large presence kept their curious fellow passengers at bay. Mrs Fothergill was stricken with seasickness from the moment they left Valletta until they docked in the port of Pera on their arrival in Turkey. She revived enough to go sightseeing in Constantinople and this time Aurelia and Lottie accompanied her, with Hansford, as always, close at hand to protect them from danger, real or imagined.

  During their stay in Constantinople they met officers who were convalescing from injuries received in the Crimea and others who were taking a few days’ leave from the battlefields, and for the first time they had first-hand news. Lottie listened to accounts of the hurricane that had left a trail of damage and disaster when it had hit Balaklava in the middle of November, and the latest attack by the Russians on the port. Cholera, she was told, was rife, and many had succumbed to the terrible disease. Even so, she suspected that the war-weary men were not telling them the full extent of the horrors they had seen and endured.

  It was agonising to be this close to Gideon and yet so far away, but the end of their journey was in sight. They had only to cross the Black Sea and they would be reunited with their loved ones. It was this thought that kept Lottie going, and gave her the patience to deal with Aurelia’s changeable moods. Their sailing was delayed once again, but this time it was the weather that kept them in port until the end of January. To make matters worse Aurelia had started getting pains, but these were not consistent and she refused to consult a doctor.

  ‘You know what a physician would say, Lottie,’ she said, grimacing and holding her side. ‘I would be confined to bed and told to rest until the baby arrived, and that is not for another month or so. I cannot remain here until the birth. I will not.’

  ‘But what will happen if you go into labour on board ship?’ Lottie asked anxiously. ‘I wouldn’t know what to do.’

  ‘My child is the son of a soldier,’ Aurelia said with a touch of her old spirit. ‘He will obey orders and stay where he is. I’m sure it is nothing. Perhaps all women in my condition suffer this way.’

  Lottie was about to answer when someone rapped on the cabin door. She opened it to find Maggie Cole, looking agitated, although that was her natural expression. Lottie assumed it was working for Mrs Fothergill that had given her a permanent frown.

  ‘Yes, Miss Cole. Is anything wrong?’

  ‘Only that the engine has broken down again and we’re going to have to transfer to another ship. Mrs Fothergill is having hysterics as we speak.’

  ‘Come in and tell us what is happening.’ Lottie held the door open.

  Cole stepped inside. ‘I can’t stay because she’ll have a fit if I don’t go back immediately, but I believe we have been given a choice. We can either remain here for an indefinite period until the engine is once again repaired, or we can board a transport vessel carrying commissariat officers to the Crimea.’

  Aurelia remained seated, clutching her filmy wrap around her body. ‘I won’t stay here a moment longer than necessary. We will go on the transport ship.’

  ‘Are you sure about that, my lady?’ Lottie asked anxiously. ‘It won’t be very comfortable.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ Aurelia cried passionately. ‘I’ll swim if necessary.’

  ‘You’d better tell Mrs Fothergill,’ Lottie turned to Maggie, lowering her voice. ‘I don’t think Lady Aurelia will change her mind.’

  Chapter Ten

  In pouring rain and gale-force winds, they boarded the Albatross. Lottie had hoped that Mrs Fothergill might balk at the idea of transferring to a smaller, less comfortable vessel, but it seemed that she was as eager to bring the journey to an end as anyone. The dark sky and stormy sea might have put her off, but she insisted that her place was with her husband. Perhaps the tales of disease and suffering had reached her ears, but the moment the ship was under way, she retired to her tiny cabin, with Cole in attendance.

  ‘Well, that’s the last we’ll see of her until we reach Balaklava,’ Aurelia said smugly. She grasped Lottie’s arm as the vessel pitched and tossed. ‘Am I imagining things or do I hear cows lowing?’

  ‘There are cattle in the hold, my lady,’ Lottie said grimly. ‘This isn’t the sort of ship your husband had in mind for your journey.’

  ‘Nothing has gone to plan.’ Aurelia hesitated at the top of the companionway. ‘I’m not sure I can manage ladders in my condition, Lottie. Perhaps this was a bad idea.’

  ‘It’s too late now. We’ve left port and there’s no turning back.’ She descended the steep ladder and held up her hand. ‘It’s not too bad. Don’t look down.’ She held her breath as she watched Aurelia’s booted feet feeling for each slippery rung, but somehow she managed to get to the bottom. She leaned against the bulkhead, clutching her sides.

  ‘The pains have returned. He mustn’t come yet. I’m not ready.’

  ‘Babies come when they’re good and ready, child.’

  The loud voice behind her was oddly familiar. Lottie spun round to find herself looking into the twinkling brown eyes of the gaudily dressed woman she had seen disembarking from the mail ship La Plata in Southampton. ‘It’s Mrs Seacole, isn’t it?’

  ‘That’s me, child. I am Mary Seacole, late of Jamaica and now on my way to do what I can for our brave soldiers in their time of need.’ Mary’s throaty chuckle wrapped itself round Lottie like a warm breeze. There was something both trustworthy and endearing about this stout, black lady with a huge personality and an equally impressive presence.

  Aurelia looked from one to the other in astonishment. ‘Do you know each other?’

  ‘My dear lady, I am known to many,’ Mary said modestly, ‘but I haven’t had the pleasure of your acquaintance, nor that of this pretty young lady.’

  Lottie felt the blood rush to her cheeks at the unexpected compliment. ‘I saw you in Southampton, Mrs Seacole, but we didn’t meet then. My name is Lottie and this is Lady Aurelia Dashwood. She is on her way to join her husband, Colonel Dashwood.’

  ‘I am delighted to make your acquaintance, my lady.’ Mary inclined her head graciously.

  Aurelia eyed her suspiciously. ‘What you said just now – how did you know?’

  ‘My dear lady, I’ve seen more women in your condition than I can remember. You should rest awhile. It’s going to be a rough crossing.’

  ‘I think we should find our cabin.’ Lottie could see that her mistress was deeply offended by Mrs Seacole’s motherly advice.

  ‘And I have to check on my stores,’ Mary said cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she had upset anyone. ‘I’m going to supply the gallant soldiers with comforts from home and give them the benefit of my extensive medical knowledge. You’ll excuse me, ladies. I have much to do.’ She shinned up the ladder with surprising agility for a large, middle-aged woman.

  ‘Well, of course I’ve heard speak of her,’ Aurelia said slowly, ‘but I never expected to meet her under such circumstances, and she has no manners.’

  ‘She was just speaking the truth, my lady.’ Lottie staggered against the bulkhead as the ship crested a wave and dropped into a trough. ‘You should take better care of yourself.’

  ‘Don’t tell me what I should or should not do, Lottie. You’re forgetting your place.’ Aurelia marched off, pausing to peer at the numbers on the cabin doors. ‘Hurry up, do.’

  That night, as the storm continued to rage, Aurelia’s pains grew stronger and closer together. Lottie had been dozing in her bunk, but she had awakened to hear the suppressed groans from below. There was little she could do other than offer comfort and bathe Aurelia’s brow with a cold flannel, but as the hours went by, and Aurelia’s distress became more evident, she knew that her mistress needed help.

  Aurelia’s screams were drowned in the soughing of the wind and the vicious pounding of the waves against the hull of the ship, and as Lottie opened the cabin door she became aware of the pathetic lowing of the cattle in the hold. She had heard Mary Seacole laughing and joking with some
of the officers as they headed for their accommodation after dinner that evening. They had sounded very jolly and Lottie suspected that they were all rather tipsy, but she needed someone with experience of childbirth, and Mary Seacole was the only other woman on board apart from Cole and Mrs Fothergill. She knocked on the cabin door where she thought she might find her, but the loud snoring sounded more like that of a man than a woman and she moved on. Eventually, a door opened and Mary Seacole emerged with her jet-black hair tucked into a frilled nightcap and a voluminous wrap hugged around her ample frame.

  ‘She’s started, I suppose.’

  ‘Yes. I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am, but Lady Aurelia’s in desperate need of your help. There’s nothing more I can do for her.’

  ‘Wait while I fetch my medical bag, child.’

  Lottie stood outside the door and a moment later Mary reappeared. ‘Lead the way. I’ll soon have the little one delivered safe and sound.’ She followed Lottie along the narrow corridor to the cabin where Aurelia lay, white-faced and writhing in agony.

  Despite her protests, Mary gave her a thorough examination. ‘Hush now, lady. We women are all the same when it comes to birthing babies. There’s no room for modesty or pride.’ She turned her head to give Lottie an encouraging grin. ‘You can make yourself useful, child. Go to the galley and fetch me a bowl of hot water and some clean towels. You might make a pot of tea while you’re at it.’

  Lottie cast a quick glance at Aurelia, but she had her eyes closed and her teeth bared as another pain racked her body. Lottie was halfway out of the door when she hesitated. ‘Do you take sugar in your tea, Mrs Seacole?’

  ‘Lord, no. I’ll have a tot of rum in mine when this is over. The tea is for you. This will take a while, but don’t worry. Everything will be just fine.’

  Aurelia’s baby was born as dawn broke. The storm had abated to a degree, but the sea was still rough and Lottie was exhausted but overjoyed to hold the tiny scrap of humanity in her arms. The little red face was wrinkled and lined, giving the baby girl the appearance of a small monkey, but to Lottie she was a thing of wonder and beauty. The infant opened her eyes and they were the deep blue of an English summer sky.