Lament for a lost lover

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.”

“You think ...”

“Mistress, I don’t know what I think. ‘Cept that ‘tis as well to be safe.”

I was silent for a while. Then I said: “He’s breathing better now.”

“I noticed he were better when I brought the garlic in.”

“Oh, Sally, tell me what’s in your mind. Is there anything in this house that could harm him?”

“I’m not saying it is so, mistress, and then again I’m not saying ‘tis not. ‘Tis only that I would be on the side of safety.”

“Oh, God,” I whispered. “Could it really be so?”

“The garlic keeps evil away. They don’t like it. There’s something in it that upsets ‘em. I don’t like what’s in this house, mistress.”

“Sally, tell me everything. If there is something threatening my son, I must know.”

“There’s some I wouldn’t trust, mistress.”

No, I thought. Nor I.

“This little one,” she went on, “to be a lord ... to own all this, for that is how it is. He lost his father who would have had it first, and then by the time our little one came into it, he would have been a man. That would have been natural and easy.

But when a little child has all this ... It has been so with kings, I believe I’m not clever and know nothing of these matters, but ‘tis human nature, that’s all, and I reckon I know a bit about that.”

“Has something happened?”

“There was one I found in here ... looking at him as he lay in his bed.”

“I saw someone too.”

“I reckon it was the same one.”

“What did she come for?”

“She said she was anxious about you. She knew how worried you were and she was sure the child had only a cold. She went out soon when I came in, and I thought what benefit it could be to her if ...”

“You suspect ... witchcraft?”