Belinda said, "I shall be back shortly, Dulcie my dear. I need some air."
Catherine heard the doors close. "I beg forgiveness for this intrusion." It no longer seemed to matter, and she could feel her body go cold despite the great fire in the room.
Dulcie placed one hand on the bed and said softly "Sit here where I can see you the better. Alas, my dear Thomas has sailed just recently to join his squadron. I miss him so much." The hand moved towards Catherine and after the slightest hesitation took hers in it. It was hot and dry She murmured, "Yes. You are very beautiful, Lady Somervell… I can see why he loves you."
Catherine squeezed her hand. "That is a kind thing to say. Please call me Catherine."
"I was sorry to hear about your late husband's death. Is it still raining?"
Catherine felt something like fear, usually a stranger to her. Dulcie was rambling, even as she clung to her hand.
She asked carefully, "Have you seen a doctor recently?"
Dulcie said distantly. "So much sadness. We couldn't have any children, you know."
"Nor can I," she said gently. She tried again. "How long have you been unwell?"
Dulcie smiled for the first time. It made her look incredibly frail.
"You are like Thomas. Always fussing and asking questions. He thinks I work too hard-he does not understand how empty it can be when he is at sea. I could not be idle, you see."
Catherine felt terribly alone with her secret. "Those men working in the gardens. Who are they?"
For a moment she thought Dulcie had not heard, as she whispered, "Belinda is such a good person. They have a little girl."
Catherine glanced away. They. "The men were speaking Spanish…"
She had not heard the door re-open, and Belinda's voice was like a knife. "Of course, you were also married to a Spaniard at one time, were you not? So many husbands."
Catherine ignored the sneer in her voice and turned back to the bed as Dulcie said wearily, "They are prisoners. But they are allowed here on trust. They are very good gardeners." Her eyes flickered. "I am so tired."
Catherine released her hand and stood up. "I will take my leave." She backed away from the bed, oblivious of Belinda's bitter stare, her hatred for her.
"I would like to talk again with you, dear Dulcie." She turned away, unable to lie.
Outside the room she faced Belinda. "She is very ill."
"And you are concerned, is that it? You came prepared to win her over-to prove that you are the only one who really cares! "
"Don't be a fool! Has she seen a doctor?"
Belinda smiled. Arrogantly, she thought. "But of course. A good local man who has known Dulcie and RearAdmiral Herrick for years."
Catherine heard the carriage moving to the front of the house again. Yovell was a good judge.
"I must leave. I'll send for a competent doctor from London."
Belinda said violently, "How can you speak like this? I can see for myself what you are, but don't you know what you are doing to my husband's career and reputation?" She was spitting out each word, unable to hide her spite. "He has fought duels over you before, or didn't you know? One day he will pay for it! "
Catherine looked away and did not see the flash of triumph in Belinda's eyes. She was remembering the VauxhallPleasureGardens, where Bolitho had tossed a contemptuous challenge to the drunken soldier who had fondled her arm as if she was a common whore. And only days ago when he had sent the effeminate Colonel Collyear packing after a similar challenge.
But when she raised her eyes again she saw Belinda's features had gone pale, her sudden confidence evaporated.
Catherine said evenly, "I know that you have no true pride in Richard. You are not fit to carry his name. And let me assure you that had we two been men I would willingly call you out. Your ignorance is far more offensive than your smugness! "
She walked towards the door. "Dulcie has a fever. I heard the gardeners speaking of it outside." Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Yes, being married to a Spaniard does have its advantages! "
Belinda said, "You are trying to frighten me." But there was no defiance now.
"There is an outbreak on the hulks-it sounds like jail fever. You should have been told. How long has she been like that?"
Belinda's hands plucked at her rich gown, confused by the swift change of events.
"A few days. After her husband's ship sailed." Her voice faltered. "What of it?"
Catherine did not answer immediately. "Send for Mr Yovell. He must take a message for me. Do not make a stupid scene of it. All the servants will go if they understand. It would be better if they were kept away from this room."
"Is it so terrible?"
Catherine regarded her thoughtfully; she would be useless. "I shall stay with her."
She remembered Belinda's frantic question. "It is typhus." She saw the word bring terror to her eyes. "I fear she will not survive it."
The door opened and Yovell tiptoed across the hallway, although he had not yet been summoned. He listened, his round face expressionless while Catherine explained what had happened.
"This is bad, m'lady." He watched her gravely. "We should send for expert help."
She saw his anxiety and laid her hand on his plump arm. "Even then it will be too late. I have seen it before. Had she been treated earlier…" She looked at the windows; a watery sunlight was breaking through. "Even then I think it would have been hopeless. She is in pain, and there were traces of a rash when her shawl was moved. I must stay with her, Daniel. No one should die alone."
Belinda crossed the hallway, her hands agitated. "I will have to return to London. My daughter is there."
Catherine said, "Go then." As Belinda hurried to the stairs she remarked, "You see, Daniel? I have no choice now, even if I wanted one."
"What do you wish, m'lady? Anything, and I shall do it."
She smiled, but her thoughts were once more in the past. When she had climbed naked into Bolitho's bed when he had been dying of fever, to bring warmth to his tormented body. And he had never remembered it.
"Go to Chatham. We have sworn to have no secrets, so I must let him know."
She smiled again and thought sadly, As he will eventually tell me about his eye.
Yovell said, "I shall do that, m'lady." Then, with a glance at the closed doors, he hurried away.
Belinda came slowly down the staircase, her eyes all the while on the woman in the dull black gown.
By the door she turned and said, "I hope you die! "
Catherine looked after her impassively. "Even then he would not come to you." But Belinda had gone; and she heard her carriage moving rapidly over the cobbles towards the road.
The same servant was back, staring at Catherine as if she were some secret force which had suddenly come amongst them.
Catherine smiled at her. "Fetch the housekeeper and the cook." She saw her uncertainty, the beginning of fear perhaps. "What is your name, girl?"
"Mary, m'lady."
"Well, Mary, we are going to look after your mistress. Make things easier for her-do you understand?"
The girl bobbed and showed her teeth. "Make 'er better, like?"
"That is so. Now off you go and fetch them, while I make a list of things we shall require."
Alone once more, Catherine leaned her head in her hands and closed her eyes tightly to hold back the hot tears which were waiting to betray her. She had to be strong, as she had been in the past when her world had turned into a nightmare. Danger and death were not new to her, but the thought of losing him now was far more than she could bear. She heard Dulcie calling for someone; she thought she had spoken Herrick's name. She clenched her fists. What else can I do?
She seemed to hear Belinda's hatred hanging in the still air. I hope you die!
Curiously, it seemed to give her the strength she needed, and when the two women who controlled Dulcie's household entered she spoke to them calmly and without hesitation.