by Anne Herries
‘Why do you say it does not affect you? Were you vaccinated as a child?’ Elizabeth asked. Sarah explained that, although she had not been inoculated, she seemed never to take it from others. Elizabeth nodded. ‘How very odd—but I have heard of such cases before, though very rarely.’
‘Well, there is nothing more we can do for the moment,’ Daniel said with a frown, ‘but I shall ride over again in two days and see what is happening.’
‘The child should have reached the crisis by now,’ Sarah said. ‘It is usually a matter of days. Once the pustules come through, the scabs form and then fall off—and then he will no longer be infectious. John may be able to speak to you next time, sir.’
Sarah was thoughtful as she accompanied Elizabeth on a leisurely walk in the garden. If John’s son had survived, he would soon be on the way to recovery—but what of John? If he had nursed the boy himself, he might have taken it from him. She voiced her fears to Elizabeth, who looked at her oddly.
‘What are you saying, Sarah?’
‘If John nursed the boy personally he must have felt that his servants were not to be trusted. If he should take it himself…’ She hesitated, but the look in her eyes spoke volumes.
‘Yes, I see what you mean. If he could not trust them to nurse the boy, how much worse may he fare himself?’ Elizabeth said, her eyes opening wide as she saw the girl’s expression. ‘You are not suggesting that…it is not to be thought of, Sarah! Your mama would never forgive me.’
‘I nursed Tilda and I did not take it. If John were ill, Elizabeth, I should not hesitate to offer myself in his service.’
‘You love him very much,’ Elizabeth said, ‘but I could not allow you to do it, Sarah. Your reputation would be ruined if word got out, and your mama would never forgive me.’
Sarah did not argue. She had already settled it in her own mind. If nothing was heard of John in two days’ time, she would ride over to his estate and discover the situation for herself. And, if need be, she would do what was necessary to ensure that he was properly cared for…
It was actually three days before Sarah took the decision to visit John’s estate. Nothing had been heard from John; though Daniel had spoken of riding over to see how he was, he had not yet done so. Sarah had spent the intervening time fluctuating between hope and despair. That morning she rose early and went down to the stables, requesting that the mare she had been allocated to ride be saddled and that the young groom who helped her should accompany her.
‘Do you know the direction of Elworthy Hall?’ she asked and the boy nodded his head.
‘Yes, miss. I often ride over with a message from the earl.’
‘Then you will please show me the way,’ Sarah said and thanked him as he helped her into the saddle.
He looked at her curiously, but did as he was asked, taking her by what he claimed was the shortest route, which entailed riding across a stretch of rather bleak moorland. When they arrived at the house, which was much larger than the one she had just left, she thought it rather forbidding in appearance. It must have been built more than two centuries earlier and, being fashioned of grey stone with tiny mullioned windows and a crenellated tower at one end of the main structure, seemed slightly oppressive at first glance.
Sarah looked at the young lad accompanying her. ‘Wait here, Jemmy. I may be a short time or perhaps a little longer, but I shall come out to you as soon as I can. Wait for me however long it takes. Do you understand me?’
‘Yes, miss.’ The groom was clearly puzzled, but prepared to obey. He was a little in awe of the beautiful young lady visiting with his master and very willing to serve her.
Sarah got down from her mare, giving the reins to him and walking up to the house. Inwardly she was trembling, but she lifted her head and, gathering her courage, gave the door a rap with the heavy iron knocker. After waiting for some minutes for an answer, she knocked again. The door was answered moments later by a scowling woman dressed in black. She was tall and thin, with a sour countenance, and her eyes narrowed as she saw Sarah.
‘Impatience will get you nowhere,’ she muttered. ‘I can’t do everything. What with answering the door and looking after him upstairs—and half the maids run off or down with the sickness themselves.’
‘I heard that Mr Elworthy’s son was ill,’ Sarah said, rushing into speech in her anxiety. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
‘I doubt it,’ the woman said, giving her a hard look. ‘For he is better and it’s the master that has gone down with it now. I warned him to leave the nursing to Mrs Beeson, but he must do it himself and now he is worse than the lad ever was, if you ask me.’
‘John has taken the smallpox?’ Sarah said, her stomach clenching with fear. ‘Please, I must see him.’
‘And who would you be, then, miss?’
‘I am Mr Elworthy’s betrothed,’ Sarah lied without hesitation. ‘Is he being properly looked after, ma’am? I do not mean to offend you, but if you are the housekeeper, as I think you must be, you cannot do everything.’
‘There’s nothing surer,’ the woman said, her gaze narrowing in suspicion. ‘It’s the first I’ve heard of Mr Elworthy being engaged to be married.’
‘It happened in London before he left in a hurry to return to his son,’ Sarah said, hoping that her cheeks were not fiery red as she lied. ‘Please, I must see him.’
‘I’m not one to stop you,’ the housekeeper said. ‘To tell you the truth, miss, I’m run off my feet. Two of the maids went down with it and one died. Some of the others went home because they were frightened to take it. Mrs Beeson is the village midwife and she is doing her best—but she isn’t always—’ She stopped and pulled a wry face. ‘But you’ll be taking a risk if you go near him, miss, and that’s the truth of it.’
‘I do not think so. I am immune to it, you see.’
‘Well, if you say so, you might as well come in. I haven’t time to stand here arguing.’
Sarah stepped inside as the woman moved back to admit her. The hall was large with marble floor tiles, which gave a cold feeling to the house. At one point the ceiling rose to a circular dome with stained glass windows that shed coloured light over the tiles. It had the atmosphere of a church nave and Sarah shivered for a moment, almost expecting to hear the chanting of monks.
‘It takes some like that,’ the housekeeper said and nodded her head. ‘It was a monastery that stood here once, miss, and the stone was taken from the church to build the house—that glass, too. The late mistress swore it was haunted, though I’ve never seen a ghost myself.’ She looked at Sarah, seeming suddenly to change, her manner becoming less hostile. ‘Well, if you’re engaged to the master, I suppose there’s no harm in your visiting him in his bedchamber—though I’m not sure he’ll know you.’
‘I must see him at once,’ Sarah said. ‘Please, will you take me up to him, ma’am?’ She smiled at the woman. ‘Forgive me, I do not know your name.’
‘Mrs Raven. I’ve been with the master since he was a lad in short coats, miss, and I wouldn’t desert him—no matter what anyone says. But I can’t do it all, miss.’
‘No, of course you can’t,’ Sarah said, following her as she led the way up the main staircase and along the gallery to what must be the west wing of the house, which had been built in the shape of an E—a popular style in the days of the Tudors. This house, however, must have been built right at the end of the sixteenth century, Sarah thought, and she could see that some attempts to modernise it had been made on the first floor. ‘It is obvious that you need help, Mrs Raven. This is a big house and it must be difficult to keep it as well as you do.’
‘Well, it wouldn’t have been so bad if the girls hadn’t run off the way they did,’ Mrs Raven said, a little mollified by Sarah’s sympathy. ‘Not that you can blame them, what with one thing and another—but I shan’t desert the master and that’s my mind made up.’
‘I am very glad to hear it,’ Sarah said. The housekeeper had stopped outside one of the doors, a
frown on her face. ‘Is this John’s room?’
‘Yes, miss, these are his rooms.’ Mrs Raven sighed. ‘This is as far as I go, miss. I have my responsibilities, and I bring up his tray—but I can’t nurse him. Heaven knows what would happen to this place if I was took sick!’
‘Yes, I understand,’ Sarah said and lifted her head proudly. ‘Where shall I find you when I come down, Mrs Raven?’
‘Just ring the bell in the hall, miss.’
‘Thank you.’ Sarah nodded to her and placed her hand on the old-fashioned latch, pressing down the flat handle to open the door. The first room she entered was clearly a gentleman’s sitting room—it was furnished with a sofa and armchairs covered in a heavy crimson brocade. There were large gilt-framed mirrors on the walls and some pictures of a hunting scene with dogs, horses and the hunt followers. A large bookcase covered one wall of the room and there were several wine tables, an imposing mahogany partners’ desk and an elbow chair. The atmosphere was a little dark and depressing, as was much of the house that Sarah had so far seen.
She glanced round, but walked straight through to the door at the far side. Opening it, she discovered that she was in a dressing room. At the moment it was strewn with items of clothing and looked as if someone had been searching for something. She frowned—John’s servants had clearly neglected their duty to their master as he lay ill. She heard a coughing sound and went quickly through the small room into the next one.
She was now in the bedchamber. It was difficult to see, for heavy curtains had been drawn across the windows, shutting out the light. A fire was burning in the grate, which made the room feel over-warm and stuffy. Sarah went across to the bed. She could see that the man lying in it had thrown back his covers and was thrashing wildly in his fever. She bent over him, laying a hand to his brow. He was bathed in a fine sweat, and clearly out of his mind as he mumbled something and cried out, his body jerking up from the bed as if he were in pain.
‘John dearest,’ Sarah said, and pulled the sheet over him. Any doubts she might have been harbouring fled as she saw him. ‘My poor darling, how ill you are. But you shall not be neglected now. I am with you and I shall not leave you again until you are better.’
Sarah could see that the pustules had not yet appeared on his body, which meant that he was in the early stages of the disease, as she had expected. It was this first stage of the illness, when red patches appeared in the mouth, that was the most dangerous, and the most infectious. If he lived through the next few days, he would probably recover, though he would almost certainly be scarred. All she could think of at the moment was that somehow she must make sure that he was made comfortable and everything possible was done to ensure his survival.
Sarah went over to the fireplace and, with the poker, raked some of the wood away from the centre of the fire so that it did not burn so fiercely. Then she walked to the window, and pulled back the heavy curtains, leaving only a thin silk drape to keep the room shaded. She looked at John once more and saw that he seemed to be resting a little easier. She would go back downstairs and tell Mrs Raven what she needed—and she would give her groom a message for Elizabeth. Then she would return to the sickroom and stay with John until the crisis was over.
Elizabeth was in her favourite sitting room when her housekeeper came in later that morning. She looked up and smiled, laying her needlework aside.
‘Yes, Mrs Bates? You wanted something?’
‘There’s a young lad from the stables here, my lady. He says as he has a message from Miss Hunter…’
‘A message from Sarah?’ Elizabeth was immediately alert. She had been a little surprised at Sarah’s decision to go riding so early, but now she felt apprehensive. ‘Bring him in, Mrs Bates.’
‘He has the smell of the stables about him, ma’am.’
‘Never mind that, I shall see him.’
Elizabeth was on her feet when Jemmy walked in. He looked at her nervously. The housekeeper had been on at him about cleaning his boots and he was not at ease in the elegant drawing room.
‘You have a message from Miss Hunter?’
‘Yes, milady,’ Jemmy said and pulled at his forelock. ‘She asked me to take her over to Elworthy Hall this mornin’ early—and she made me wait. Then she came out and told me she was stayin’, because Mr Elworthy was struck down with the smallpox. She said I should tell you that she would not return until all danger of infection was gone, and that she would think it kindly if you would send some of her things over. And there’s some things she wants from your stillroom if you could spare them, milady—for the fever, she said.’
‘Sarah is staying at Elworthy Hall…’ Elizabeth frowned. ‘The foolish girl! But it is my fault. I should have guessed what she would do if there was no news of him.’ Elizabeth took a turn about the room, her mind working swiftly. There was little she could do—even if Daniel went to fetch Sarah back, it was unlikely that she would return with him. The girl had a mind of her own! After a few moments, she turned decisively to the young groom. They must make the best of the situation. ‘I think I must do as she asks. Are you willing to be our go-between, Jemmy? You know that there is smallpox in the house. You should not go in, and stay well clear of anyone who comes out to give you a message. You do not want to take it to your family or your friends.’
‘I’ve had the vaccination, ma’am,’ Jemmy said. ‘Lady Isadora offered it to all those on the estate who would take it some years back and Ma had all of us done. She said smallpox were a dreadful thing and that her mother and brother both died of it when she were a girl. I don’t mind going ‘cause I shan’t take it—leastwise, them what has had the vaccination don’t take it as bad.’
‘I know there was a vogue for vaccination some years ago,’ Elizabeth said. ‘I did not have it myself, nor, I think, did the earl—though I believe Lady Isadora was one of the first to have it herself. It is perhaps a sensible thing to do and I believe I may have the children done when they are a little older, if my husband agrees.’ She was thinking aloud, but suddenly recalled herself and smiled at the youth. ‘Go to the kitchen and have something to eat, Jemmy—and then I shall send a bag with Miss Hunter’s things for you to take when you have eaten.’
Daniel entered the room just after the boy left. He looked at his wife curiously. ‘What was young Jemmy doing here?’
‘He brought me a message from Sarah,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Early this morning she rode over to Elworthy Hall and she is staying to nurse John, who apparently has the smallpox.’
‘The foolish girl!’ Daniel exclaimed. ‘Does she not know what she is doing? It is a vile sickness and kills too many—and the scarring is sometimes terrible.’
‘When you first brought the news of the child’s illness, Sarah told me that she is naturally immune to it,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Indeed, I have heard of people who manage to remain free of it though others around them fall sick. Jemmy says that Mama had him vaccinated when he was a small boy, and he is willing to be our go-between. He is to take some of Sarah’s things and medicines she needs to her.’
‘I suppose it would be useless to order her to return home?’ Daniel nodded wryly as he saw his wife’s face. ‘No, I did not imagine she would listen. Sarah is not an innocent child any longer, whatever her mama may think. She learned the hard way, and I dare say she knows her own mind.’
‘She loves John very much, Daniel.’
‘That much is obvious,’ he said. ‘But do they have an understanding? She is throwing her reputation to the winds, Elizabeth. If this gets out…’ He looked grim. ‘It puts John in an impossible situation.’
‘Why should it become common knowledge?’ Elizabeth asked. ‘I have no intention of telling anyone but you, dearest.’
‘What of her mother?’
‘I shall write and say that Sarah has had a little chill and ask permission for her to stay longer with us.’
Daniel frowned at her. ‘You are treading on dangerous ground, my love. Mrs Hunter worries over her daught
er. She may very well decide to post down here immediately.’
‘I do not like to mislead her,’ Elizabeth said. ‘But if I told her the truth, she would come at once and demand that Sarah return with her.’
‘That is very true,’ Daniel said. ‘Delay your letter for the moment, Elizabeth. We may be in a better position to write to her mama in a few days. All I hope is that the foolish girl does not take it from him!’
‘I think she would not care, providing that she can make him well,’ Elizabeth said and smiled at him lovingly. ‘Do not tell me that you would not do the same in her shoes, Daniel, for I should not believe you.’
He laughed and shook his head. ‘That is somewhat different, my love. This has made me think and I believe we should have the children inoculated when they are older, Elizabeth. I have looked into it and it is done by means of a diluted solution of the cowpox. In some cases the patient will take a mild form of the disease, but it protects against the more virulent disease.’
‘I think perhaps we should ask the doctor to vaccinate us all,’ Elizabeth said. ‘I had not thought about it for years, because there had not been an outbreak—but now I believe it would be wise to take precautions.’
‘Let us hope that Sarah knows what she is doing,’ Daniel said. ‘I dare not think what her mama would say if she should fall foul of it—or Charles, either!’
‘Charles would not blame us—he knows that Sarah has a mind of her own—but her mama would not be so easily satisfied.’
Elizabeth was thoughtful. She had no intention of betraying Sarah to her mama, but she knew that, in keeping her whereabouts a secret, she was neglecting her duty. Mrs Hunter would be justifiably angry if she ever learned the truth. She must just hope that she would not…
Sarah bent over her patient, lifting him gently as she held a cup to his mouth and tried to get him to drink the mixture that Elizabeth had sent over. It was one commonly used for fevers of all kinds and would ease him if she could just get him to swallow enough. However, he would not open his mouth for her and the healing mixture was running down his chin.
