Knight's Acre: Till Death Do Us Part

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Knight's Acre: Till Death Do Us Part Page 18

by Margaret Brazear


  She did not sound happy.

  “He’s just told me,” she said. “He didn’t want to tell me before the banquet and ball and spoil the fun, so he’s been keeping it to himself. Isn’t that the sweetest thing? The darling.”

  Jessica pressed herself against the wall so she wouldn’t be seen.

  “He’s dying?” said her friend. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You say he’s only got a few weeks.”

  “Yes,” said Frederica. “He might not even last till the wedding. I’m thinking about whether to, you know, share his bed. He might not be here and I do so long for him.”

  “But what if you get pregnant?”

  “I can’t,” said Frederica. “Not the first time. My grandmother told me.”

  Jessica closed her eyes, felt her cheeks burning, felt a heavy lump in the pit of her stomach. It was all deceit, every last word out of his lying, two faced mouth. She felt as though she must be the world’s worst fool but it solved the question of whether to tell Catherine about him. She never wanted anyone to know how stupid she had been.

  But Frederica thought she couldn’t get with child the first time. Jessica had heard that herself, but it had proven to be an old wives’ tale of the cruellest kind.

  Or was she judging him too harshly? She still wanted to believe Simon had loved her, that this really was his twin brother. Perhaps twins got the same illness; she listened some more and was rewarded by Frederica’s friend, who spoke up.

  “Poor Simon,” she said. “He’s so young.”

  Her last hope gone, Jessica knew she had to put a stop to it, had to do something before it was too late. It was no use her telling Miss Marsh the truth; she would never believe her. But something had to be done.

  ***

  The supper party had begun, the servants were all busy serving, clearing and mopping up and, having nothing else to do and feeling the urgency of the situation, Jessica slipped into her coat and went outside.

  The grounds covered some four acres but Jessica knew exactly where she was going. There was a small wood to one side and she had walked there many times, to be alone with her thoughts. She had seen what she wanted there, a tall, green plant with white flowers, a plant that grew wild around the ditches that separated the estate from the road.

  She took her gloves out of her pocket and pushed her fingers into them before she touched the infectious stem of the plant. She didn’t want to get a nasty rash that might give her away.

  Mrs Cooper was asleep in her rocking chair in the corner of the vast kitchen, but apart from her gentle snoring, Jessica had the room to herself. It would be hours before anyone came down for their night time cocoa and she had time to prepare the drink just as she wanted, but she would have to dispose of the pan afterwards. Mrs Cooper would be bound to notice its absence, but Jessica would think of something; she usually did.

  It took longer than she had expected to turn the hemlock plant to liquid and all the time Jessica worried that one of the servants might finish their duties upstairs and come down. Lord! Someone might even want to taste the broth she was brewing. But there was no way she could make it hurry and her one consolation was the sound of gentle snoring from the rocking chair.

  When she had finished to her satisfaction and poured the broth into a large pitcher, she wrapped the pan and the spoon in a thick towel and carried them all upstairs to her bedroom. She had a new bedroom now, a larger room reserved for Lady Langley’s personal maid and just down the hall from her own so she could call her whenever she needed. Jessica hoped she didn’t start calling in the middle of the night like her mother.

  She tucked the towel wrapped parcel under her bed and put the pitcher down on the bedside table where it could cool. She wouldn’t need it until later, when everyone had gone to bed. She hoped she would be in time; Frederica would likely not take herself to his room until everyone had gone to sleep and Jessica would have time to get to him first. Hopefully, Miss Marsh might decide it was too risky here and wait till they got home.

  It was fortunate that Jessica now had her own room with a key to lock the door. Otherwise it would be dangerous to leave the pitcher in case someone thought to taste it.

  It was nearly midnight before she went down to the servants’ hall for her cocoa, already made by the scullery maid and on a tray along with all the others. She picked up her own mug and tipped some of it into the drain.

  “I’ll take this upstairs,” she said. “I’m rather tired. It will be just what I need to help me go off to sleep.”

  “All right,” said Mrs Cooper. “Sleep tight; don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

  Jessica smiled. Her mother used to say that to her, when she tucked her in at night when she was a little girl. She had thought at the time that it was a saying Amelia had made up herself, but obviously not. She recalled the nights when she had watched her mother leave the room and she had sat up and lifted the pillows and the mattress to be sure there were no bugs nesting in them.

  She passed the Blue Room on her way along the gallery, pressed her ear to the door and heard the deep breathing of its occupant. She carried on along to her own room and poured some of the liquid from the pitcher into the cocoa, just enough to fill up the space she had made. She could only hope it would be enough.

  She should have thought of this with Father. The laudanum had taken too long and she hadn’t had time, she’d had to leave and hope for the best. She didn’t understand it; it had worked with Mother.

  ***

  What was it that made her feel sad? She shouldn’t feel sad. She should feel satisfied, but she didn’t. She had so wanted to believe him, so wanted to know that Simon had loved her.

  Putting the mug of cocoa down onto the nightstand, she watched him sleeping for a little while as she tried to collect herself, to calm herself. She really wanted to hit him; she was longing to take something heavy and smash him over the head with it, just to relieve her fury. Instead, she shook him awake, her heart pounding as she watched him come to with a jerk and push himself to a sitting position.

  That nightshirt was open at the chest again, those muscles were showing; God, she had loved him! The truth was, she still loved him, likely always would love him. But he had caused her so much pain, had hurt her so badly. It wasn’t just losing him, but losing her little baby daughter as well. She wasn’t sure which had hurt the most, but he had been the cause of both.

  Jessica didn’t know Frederica, would never know her, but she had seemed a nice enough young lady. She didn’t deserve what Simon had planned for her, didn’t deserve to feel the same heartache that Jessica felt.

  She turned up the light in the oil lamp.

  “I brought you some cocoa,” she said as he sat up in bed, looking startled to see her there.

  “Oh,” he said. “How kind.”

  She handed him the mug, watched as he took it and sipped the hot drink.

  “I hope it’s not too hot,” she said.

  “No, no, it’s just right. Sweet, just as I like it.”

  He drank some more and she watched as he drained the mug, no doubt still wondering just why she had brought it.

  “I know,” she said. “I remember.”

  “Remember? How could you remember?”

  “Simon, Simon,” she said. “I really believed it, you know. How stupid am I? To be fooled once by your charms, but then to let myself be fooled again.”

  “Stephen, Jessica,” he said. “I’m Stephen.”

  “No, you’re not,” she said. “I hear you told your fiancée that you’re dying, that you won’t last till the wedding.” He made no reply, only frowned at her. “I’ve heard that tale before and it’s one that suits me just right. Nobody’ll question it, will they?”

  “Question what?” he said with difficulty.

  He had begun to tremble and he wiped his mouth where saliva had begun to leak.

  “You being so ill,” she said.

  “Can I have some water?” he said. “My throat is burning.”


  “No,” she replied. “I can’t leave you to fetch water. I can’t risk Miss Marsh coming in too soon.”

  “Frederica?” he said weakly.

  “Yes,” said Jessica. She took his hand. “I shall stay with you until the end.” She laughed. “You remember how you didn’t want me to see you at the end? Remember how you didn’t want me to have to nurse you? Well, that was very considerate of you, Simon, but really unnecessary. As you’ll see, I’m really, very happy to stay with you.”

  “What are you talking about?” he said weakly. “I feel quite ill. Do you think there was something wrong with the meat at supper? If there was, others might also be ill. Call someone, please. I think I might need a doctor.”

  She laughed; she had been thinking she was the stupid one, and here he still hadn’t cottoned on.

  “I have to congratulate you on your quick thinking, though,” she said. “I mean, you didn’t expect me to turn up out of the blue, did you? And straight away, you made up a tale. Or did you have it all ready, just in case?”

  “Really, Jess,” he said. “I really do need a doctor.”

  “So naïve,” she said. “So innocent. How many times have you done this? How many women have you tempted into your bed with this tale of near death?”

  He didn’t answer for a few minutes, but his face creased up and she could see he was in pain.

  “You know, you really missed your calling,” she said. “You should have been an actor; you should have gone on the stage. Pity it’s too late.”

  “What do you want me to say?” he said.

  “Nothing,” she replied. “But I will tell you something before you go; you have a daughter, Virginia. I thought she was your only child and that you might be glad of it, or something. But if you have fooled other women, you might have many. One thing’s for certain: there will be no more.”

  It must have been those last words that brought a little light of understanding to his eyes. Jessica watched carefully, smiling gently, her eyes full of compassion. And she felt that compassion, too; she had to feel compassion for a young man who should have had his whole life ahead of him. But her heart was already broken; it could break no more.

  “What have you done?” he asked.

  “Saved Miss Marsh and Lord knows how many more innocent girls from suffering as I did.”

  He tried to sit up further, but his strength was fading and he was in pain. The effort to raise his hand and wipe his mouth with his sleeve was almost too much, but he forced out some weak words.

  “Please, Jessica,” he said. “I’m sorry you were hurt, I really am. It’s not too late. Get me a doctor and you’ll be all right.”

  “How do you work that out?” said Jessica.

  “Don’t you see, you stupid girl? They will hang you! You can’t just go about murdering people, no matter how justified you might think you are.”

  Jessica said nothing, but she pondered his words. It had never occurred to her that she might be doing something unlawful, something that could get her executed. How very odd.

  “You’ve told people you are dying, Simon,” she said without a trace of satisfaction. “Why should anyone doubt your word?”

  He was losing consciousness now and she stayed until she could no longer hear his breathing. She listened to his chest, heard no heartbeat, then put her fingers on his wrist to feel for a pulse; there was none.

  Picking up the empty mug, she lowered the wick on the oil lamp and returned to her own room, past the sounds of sleeping guests.

  Thank you for Reading Book One of Knight’s Acre. I hope you have enjoyed it and if you have, don’t miss

  Book Two – The Forgotten Witness

  Book Three – The Countess of Harrisford

  Both available now to pre-order

  Please consider my other books:

  Historical fiction/romance:

  The Romany Princess

  The Wronged Wife

  To Catch a Demon

  The Gorston Widow

  The Crusader’s Widow

  The Minstrel’s Lady (winner of the 2017 e-festival of words Best Romance)

  The Adulteress

  Conquest

  A Man in Mourning

  The Cavalier’s Pact

  Shed No Tears

  The Outcasts

  The Secret of Ainsley Gate

  Daughters of Trengowan

  Factual:

  The Loves of the Lionheart

  For the Love of Anne

  Series:

  Holy Poison – a six book series telling of the ordinary people who lived through the brutal reign of Bloody Mary

  The Judas Pledge

  The Flawed Mistress

  The Viscount’s Birthright

  Betrayal

  The Heretics

  Consequences

  Pestilence – A three book series set around the Black Death

  The Second Wife

  The Scent of Roses

  Once Loved (winner of the 2018 e-festival of words Best Historical Novel)

  The Elizabethans – A three book series following the lives of three noble brothers and what they sacrificed for love

  The Earl’s Jealousy

  The Viscount’s Divorce

  Lord John’s Folly

  The Hartleighs of Somersham – a Regency tale

  A Match of Honour (winner of the e-festival of words 2018 best Historical Romance)

  Lady Penelope’s Frenchman

  Ye Olde Antique Shoppe – A time slip series

  The Edward V Coin

  The Anne Boleyn Necklace

  The Ripper Rings

  The Roman Bracelet

  The Confederate Cap

  The Tarot Cards and the Rosary

  Other Books:

  Old Fashioned Values

  The Surrogate Bride (a historical fantasy)

  Writing as Kelly McKenna:

  Mirielle

  The Longest Shadow

  Writing as Georgia London:

  The Tale of the Missing Bridegroom – A Charlotte Chase Mystery

  Short Stories:

  Taking Care of Mother

  The Gatecrasher

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