“Just a chill,” said Sally. “I’ve got a flannel on his chest and hot bricks wrapped in more flannel for his feet. I’ve also got some good cordial for him.”
I went and looked at my son. His face was flushed and his forehead far too hot.
“Hello, Mama,” he said. “You’re going to London to see the King.”
I knelt by his bed. “It won’t be for long.”
“How long?” he asked.
“A week perhaps.”
“Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday Sunday Monday,” he said.
Then he started to cough.
“You shouldn’t talk,” said Sally sharply. “I told you not to.”
“It was my fault,” I said. “Now try to sleep, my darling.”
“Will you come and see me before you go?” asked Edwin.
“Of course I will.” I bent and kissed him. He took my hand and clung to it. His fingers were burning.
I covered him up and when I went out Sally followed me.
“Now don’t you fret,” she said. “I’ll look after him. It’s just one of his colds.”
I nodded and went back to our room. While I prepared for bed Carleton talked excitedly about London and the Roman remains. He noticed my inattention and complained of it.
“I’m worried about Edwin,” I said.
“You are like an old hen with her chicks.”
“I am a mother,” I said.
“You are also a wife. Never neglect your husband for your children. That’s an old adage isn’t it, or it ought to be. Come to bed. Thank God tomorrow I shall lure you away from your domesticity.”
But in the morning Edwin was worse. Sally was anxious, I could see.
“Sally,” I said, “I’m going to stay.”
I could see her relief.
“It’s not just a cold, is it?”
“The fever still stays and he’s been talking excitedly and thinking he was riding his horse. I’ve sent one of the men for the doctor.”
I went back to Carleton. “You should be ready,” he said.
“I’m not going.”
He stared at me incredulously.
“What nonsense. Of course you are. The King expects you.”
“Edwin is very ill.”
“He has a slight chill.”
“It’s not slight. I’m staying here.”
For a few seconds we faced each other. He was angry. He didn’t believe Edwin was ill. I told myself that in his heart he had never liked Edwin. He resented him, I knew it. He had several reasons for resenting him. For a long time, before Toby had returned, he had stood between him and Eversleigh. Moreover he was my son, and he suspected that the boy reminded me of Edwin and that whatever ill I heard of him I would still harbour romantic thoughts about him. Carleton was a man who had to be first; he had to be the centre of everything, and that included my life. He wouldn’t even stand aside for his own daughter, but to do so for another man’s son infuriated him.
I knew Carleton. I was fully aware of his faults. I was not going to make the mistake of turning him into a model of virtue. That would be scarcely possible with a man like Carleton. He was virile, arrogant, essentially male and I enjoyed my marriage, which was because I was a woman who needed marriage. Physically we were well matched. I liked our encounters, even our verbal battles, which still persisted. We loved to score over each other. Perhaps that was not the way a wife should feel about her husband, but it was how I felt about Carleton.
My marriage was exciting rather than tender. I was sure he felt the same about me.
Now he was angry. He could not bear me to prefer anyone else, even my own children … particularly Edwin. He desperately wanted a son of his own. He was making that more and more clear.
Life with him was far from tranquil and now we were moving into a new storm.
“You are coming with me,” he said.
“No, Carleton, I am not coming. I will not leave Edwin. I have told Sally Nullens I am staying. She is relieved. That means Edwin is worse than he appears to be.”
For a moment I thought he was going to pick me up forcibly and ride off with me.
I was sure that was in his mind. Then he said abruptly: “Very well. Do as you please.”
And he went off.
He did not say good-bye.
I could not think much about Carleton because my concern was all for my son. The doctor had come and had found him suffering from a fever. He was to be kept warm and fed with broth. He would come again the next day.
In the afternoon Edwin went into a deep sleep and Sally said he should be left alone. We would look in on him from time to time and she had put a little bell under his pillow in case he should wake and need something.
After about fifteen minutes I crept into his room. Someone was standing at the foot of his bed, looking at him.
“Harriet,” I whispered.
She turned.
“He must not be disturbed while he sleeps,” I said and we tiptoed out.
“Poor Edwin,” she said. “He looks very sick.”
I said: “He will recover. The doctor says that we must keep him quiet. Sally is wonderful with children. She nursed his father through several illnesses. Matilda says she is the perfect nurse and doctor combined.”
She followed me to my room.
“Poor Arabella,” she said, “you look exhausted.”
“Naturally I’m worried. I didn’t sleep well all night. I was so anxious … wondering whether to go or stay.”
“So you let Carleton go off without you!” She shook her head. “Was that wise?”
“I could not have gone with him while Edwin was in this state. Why, I would never forgive myself if …”
“If?” She was looking at me, her eyes alight with speculation. I could see the thoughts chasing themselves in her head. She was trying to draw a veil over her eyes but she was not quite clever enough to do that. I knew what she was thinking. If Edwin died, Toby would be Lord Eversleigh. She would be Lady Eversleigh, she, the strolling player’s daughter!
“Edwin is going to recover,” I said fiercely.
“Of course he will. He’s a most healthy little boy. This is nothing. A childish ailment. Children have these things. They come close to death … and then and then …”
I turned away. I wanted to shout at her: Don’t stand there lying, pretending you want him to get well. You want him to die!
“You must take care of yourself, Arabella,” she said. “You’ll be ill yourself if you worry like this.”
I said: “I want to rest. Just for a short while. Sally will watch over him while I rest.”
I lay on my bed and she put the coverlet over me. Her face was close to mine, so beautiful, so compassionate, and yet there was a certain glitter in her eyes.
The door closed on her but I could not rest. I thought of her and Edwin together … I had had not an inkling. How clever they were! She had hoped to marry him herself.
Then I thought of the coldness in Carleton’s eyes when he turned away from me. He was very angry. He could not bear that anyone should come before himself.
But what did any of these things matter while my son was ill? I could not rest here. I rose and went back to Sally’s sick room. Edwin was still sleeping. My entrance awakened Sally, and the two of us sat there listening for any sound from the sick child.
Through the night Sally and I sat beside him. He was quietly lying on his bed and every now and then we would hear his heavy breathing. I sat listening in terror that it might stop.
Sally rocked herself silently to and fro.
I whispered: “Sally, I smell something. Is it garlic?”
She nodded. “There by the fire, mistress.”
“You put it there?”
She nodded again. “It keeps evil away. We always have used it.”
“Evil?”
“Witches and the like.”