The Cursed Wife

by Pamela Hartshorne

You made the potion that drove George mad, Mary. I did not want him to die, not then. Not until I had a son to inherit. You covered up your crime. It was all your idea. You did everything.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mary

  Haverley Court, October 1578

  For the first few days after Lord Delahay’s death, we crept around, almost as if we feared he would rise up and berate us. The events of that night come back to me still in jolting images, like snatches of a nightmare remembered: the stomach-turning stench of vomit and of blood as I knelt on my hands and knees to scrub up the mess on Cat’s chamber floor. The smell of the wine I threw over Anthony to set the scene. He was to pretend that he had been drinking heavily with George instead of swiving his wife.

  Of course I knew what he and Cat had been doing. Did Cat think I was blind?

  I remember the weight of Lord Delahay’s body as Anthony and I hauled him to the top of the grand new staircase and then hurled him down it. It was not as easy as I thought to make it look like an accident. At first his body only slumped down a few steps. We had to try three more times until he eventually lay at the bottom and I had to twist his head so that it looked as if his neck were broken. As if the bloody dent in his temple had been caused by falling against a step and not by a poker. The cold clamminess of his skin, the grease in his hair, made me gag as I touched him, but it looked plausible enough when I had finished.

  And all the while I was cleaning and arranging and thinking and planning, I was terrified for my immortal soul. Mine was the hand that had prepared the potion. The same hand that had pushed the vagrant child from the cart all those years earlier. I had told Cat to be careful, yes, but I had made it. I could not deny it. I was a murderer, twice over.

  But I could not stop to pray or do penance. I had to keep Cat safe. I had to keep Cecily safe. I had to keep us all safe.

  I was worried about Daniel, who would surely be suspicious, but when we had staged the scene, I told Anthony to rouse him and pretend that George had been drinking, that he had tripped, that it had all been a terrible accident.

  Anthony was as good as a player, acting his part of a shocked and not quite sober friend as he roused Daniel, who staggered in shock and wept for his master. Perhaps he lacked anyone else to tie his fortunes to, just as I was tied to Cat. We led him away, and I made him a drink to calm him and help him sleep while we sent for the coroner.

  The coroner twisted his hat in his hands, plainly out of his depth and uneasy at having to ask questions in a noble house. He allowed me to point out the smell of wine, and agreed with my suggestion that Lord Delahay must have stumbled and fallen down the stairs. But from somewhere he dredged up a remembrance of his duties, and said that of course he must speak to witnesses too. I bent my head in acquiescence but I was dismayed. The more people he spoke to, the more suspicions might arise.

  But the drink I had given Daniel kept him groggy and the coroner soon tired of questioning stolid servants who had heard nothing, seen nothing, suspected nothing. ‘A terrible accident,’ he decided, and we were free to bury Lord Delahay. Cat refused to make a show of sitting with the body.

  ‘He can lie on the village midden for all I care,’ she said.

  So he lay alone and unmourned in the chapel that was never used, although I was able to convince her that we must have a priest and a funeral according to his position, else questions would surely be asked. I cannot lie and say that I mourned him, but I spent long hours on my knees, praying for forgiveness for my part in his death.

  Daniel roused himself from his bed and came to see me. His face was white and waxy, and malevolence gleamed in his eyes. ‘I do not believe my master fell down those stairs. He drank himself into a stupor every night, but not once did he fall. There is something going on between his lady wife and Sir Anthony,’ he said. ‘They have been cuckolding my master, I am sure of it.’

  ‘That is untrue,’ I said calmly. ‘You are distraught over the loss of your master, and I am sorry for it, but you must not make accusations you cannot prove.’

  Daniel’s expression twisted. ‘I may not be able to prove it, but I know it in my bones. Your lady pushed my master down those stairs.’

  ‘Indeed she did not.’ I was glad for once to speak the truth. ‘It was an accident. Lord Delahay had drunk so much he was unwell. Sir Anthony saw him fall, and so he told you.’

  ‘He would say that, wouldn’t he? I will go to the coroner.’

  So it is not grief for Lord Delahay, I thought. He wants money. It is as simple as that.

  ‘And say what?’ I asked. ‘It would be your word against Sir Anthony’s, and he is a gentleman.’

  ‘What choice do I have?’

  ‘You will want to go away, I am sure. Haverley Court can have only bad memories for you now. A manservant of your skill will surely find another post,’ I suggested. ‘I am sure my mistress would want to reward you for your loyalty,’ I added carefully.

  ‘You promised him what?’ Cat was angry when I told her that she would have to give Daniel a purse of silver. We were walking along the gravel paths in the new knot garden. I trusted the servants, but there were some conversations we needed to have where we could not be overheard. Anthony walked with us, elegant as ever. I remember the crunch of his boots on the gravel, the scent of rosemary and thyme released as our skirts brushed the plants.

  ‘You do not want to make an enemy of Daniel,’ I said. ‘Be generous. Send him on his way. He suspects too much.’

  Anthony agreed. ‘Let us be rid of him,’ he said negligently. He smiled at Cat. ‘My dove, you can afford it now.’

  Cat laughed at him over her shoulder. ‘So I can!’

  Only until the new Lord Delahay came to claim his inheritance, I thought.

  George’s heir was his nephew, a young man who had been last heard of in Italy. Anything might happen to him, I could see Cat thinking to herself. Travelling was a dangerous business. He might never come, she reasoned, and she could stay forever at Haverley Court with Anthony, just as she had planned.

  For a few months, indeed, it seemed as if she might be right, but the laws of inheritance do not favour daughters or widows. It was clear to me that we were on borrowed time. Sooner or later, a new Lord Delahay would come riding up to the door, and then what would become of us?

  Cat told me to stop fretting. ‘We are free now,’ she said. ‘Let us enjoy it, Mary.’

  She was happy, and just as at Steeple Tew, when Cat was happy, the whole household was happy too. The other servants turned a blind eye to the fact that Anthony shared her bed. They treated him as her husband, and he was, to all intents and purposes, master.

  I was the only one who gave thought to the future. ‘You may be free for now,’ I said, ‘but for how much longer? George’s nephew will inherit sooner or later, and we will have to go home to Steeple Tew – and you won’t be able to take Anthony with you.’

  ‘Go back to Steeple Tew?’ Cat said in astonishment. ‘What for? Anthony and I will be married as soon as may be.’

  ‘Your brother will not allow it.’

  ‘It is not up to Avery! I am a widow. I can make my own choices.’

  I shook my head. ‘How many of us can do that? You will have to be ordered by your brother,’ I told her. ‘When George’s nephew arrives, there will be no place for you here. It would be different if you had a son, but Cecily is only a girl child. She has no claim on the estate.’

  ‘He is not come yet,’ Cat pointed out. ‘There is sickness in the country and no one is going anywhere.’

  Did she really believe Avery would leave her be? She wrote eventually to tell him of George’s death, but even I was surprised at the speed with which he responded, summoning her back to Steeple Tew in a letter. With no regard for her period of mourning, Avery had arranged another marriage for Cat already with one of his business associates, a prosperous London merchant called Gabriel Thorne.

  Cat stared incredulously when I read the letter out to her. ‘A mercha
nt? How can he think it?’ she exclaimed. ‘I would not so debase myself.’

  ‘Anthony has few prospects,’ I pointed out.

  ‘What does that matter?’ Cat rose in a furious flurry of skirts and paced around the chamber. ‘He is at least a gentleman! His family were nobles.’

  Anthony! The pair of them thought they could live here in their dream world forever. I was out of patience with Cat. She thought only of Anthony, and not once of Cecily. How was her daughter to be supported? Where was she to live? Who would feed and clothe her? Not Anthony, for all his gentlemanly connections.

  ‘Why do you not at least hear what Mr Thorne has to say?’ I tried. ‘You could be comfortable with a wealthy merchant.’

  ‘Comfortable?’ Cat sneered. ‘That is all you ever think about, Mary. Being comfortable, being safe. You would rather go and live in a merchant’s house and let him put his great paws on you than follow your heart. You know nothing of passion.’

  ‘And I am glad of it if it means that I would not forget those who depend on me,’ I said quietly. ‘I would rather live in a cottage than see my daughter and my servants starve.’

  Cat sighed. ‘No one is going to starve, Mary! Do not make me a tragedy. Write back to Avery and tell him that if I marry again, I will marry to please myself.’

  I had no desire to go back to Steeple Tew either, but I could not imagine the new Lord Delahay would house us, and nor could I see Anthony supporting us. He had nothing but good looks and a certain sly charm to recommend him. Another marriage for Cat would be the best option for Cecily and me. So I couched the letter in more temperate terms. Cat was in mourning, I reminded Avery on her behalf. She was not ready to contemplate another marriage yet.

  My attempt at diplomacy was wasted. Avery wrote back in a rage, or so I deduced reading between the lines of what his clerk had written for him. Avery, it seemed, was under a great obligation to Gabriel Thorne. He had no intention of allowing Cat to rule herself. There was sickness at Steeple Tew, but he had told Mr Thorne to present himself at Haverley Court where he could expect to be received favourably.

  Cat was incandescent when I read the letter out to her. ‘I won’t see him!’ she said furiously. ‘How dare Avery do this!’ Tears stood in her eyes. ‘A great obligation indeed! Avery is in debt to this merchant, mark you my words. Jocosa has ruined him with her pretensions. There will be glass in every window at Steeple Tew now!’ She paced up and down the chamber, her skirts swishing irritably on the rush matting. ‘And now all the money has been spent, I am to be sold off to pay for it all!’

  ‘What about your dowry? Avery must have made some arrangement with Lord Delahay.’

  ‘It is to revert on my widowhood, but to Avery, not to me. Oh!’ Cat clenched her fists to her temples. ‘After all I have suffered, why can I not be allowed to be happy now? It is not fair!’

  ‘What harm will it do to at least see this Mr Thorne?’ I said soothingly. ‘If Mr Thorne really is displeasing to you, you will be able to tell him no. Or you could put him off by saying you would like the chance to get to know him better, or mourn George longer.’

  ‘Or that I am a gentlewoman and have no intention of being sold off to a merchant!’

  ‘Cat . . . my lady . . . please, think of what may be,’ I urged her. ‘George’s nephew may come at any time, and then what will you do? You can marry Anthony, yes, but where would we go? How would we live?’

  ‘I have my jewels. I can sell them.’

  ‘Jewels will not last forever,’ I said. ‘Do not turn away Mr Thorne without seeing him. Surely it is better to keep your options open?’

  ‘You see him, if you think it is so important,’ she snapped.

  ‘But it is you he will have come to see.’

  ‘Then do you take my place, Mary.’ Cat clapped her hands together at the thought. ‘Yes, indeed, it will be the very thing! We will change places for the day. You shall be mistress, and I your maid. Then I will take a look at this Mr Thorne, and make sure that you send him away.’

  ‘We cannot do that!’ I was scandalised. ‘He would know I was not you, for a start.’

  ‘Pah, he will see what he expects to see,’ said Cat. ‘You can wear my best gown, and I will wear yours. He will be shown into a room to meet Lady Delahay, and you will be sitting there with your maid standing behind you. Why should he question it?’

  ‘You should tell him yourself, in that case,’ I said. ‘To deceive a man in such a way is wrong, and folly.’

  I argued, but Cat was determined. There was no point in writing to Avery. Gabriel Thorne must be rejected to his face, and Avery must make good his great obligation some other way.

  When only a week or so later a message was brought to her chamber that Mr Thorne begged for an audience with her, she squealed with excitement.

  ‘Quick, Mary, let us change gowns!’ To the servant, she snapped an order to tell Mr Thorne to wait. ‘Offer him some ale or whatever merchants drink,’ she said carelessly.

  I worked as quickly as I could, but it takes time to unpin sleeves, to unlace a bodice and unfasten skirts, and then they all had to be pinned and laced and fastened anew on me. Cat ran around, amusing herself with playing the part of maid. She found me a ruff and draped some pearls from my waist, before helping me into her gown and twitching it into place with a laugh.

  ‘Oh, Mary, you look quite the lady!’

  ‘I do not think we should be doing this,’ I said weakly, but Cat was having none of it.

  ‘Come, help me into your gown. How dull it is!’ she said, brushing it down with distaste.

  ‘You had better wear a cap too,’ I said, resigned. ‘Your hair is too beautiful a gold. Mr Thorne would be sure to notice.’ Cat liked that.

  At last we were ready. We made our way to the great chamber, and Cat took her place behind the chair with a smothered giggle, while I sat, feeling stiff and uncomfortable. We sent the servant for Mr Thorne.

  When he came in, I was too embarrassed to look at him directly at first. He took off his hat and bowed low over my hand, and I smelt clean hair and luxurious fabric. When I made myself meet his eyes, they were the colour of a winter sky, keen and cool, and they seemed to reach right inside me and pluck at my nerves.

  ‘My Lady Delahay,’ he said.

  ‘Mr Thorne,’ I said nervously. ‘You are welcome.’

  Was it my imagination or had Cat tsked behind me?

  I invited him to sit and we exchanged small talk about his journey for a few minutes. Gabriel Thorne was a steady, solid-looking man with a quiet face. He would have been unremarkable were it not for the levelness of his gaze, and a calm voice that was like a hand gentling down my spine. He made me feel safe just by sitting there.

  What did he make of me? I wondered. Could he tell that I was in borrowed clothes and that the pearls I fidgeted with belonged to another woman entirely?

  Behind me, Cat was getting restive. ‘Bring wine and cakes,’ I said over my shoulder to her.

  ‘Certainly, my lady,’ she said with venomous sweetness.

  ‘You know why I am here?’ Gabriel said when she had gone.

  I nodded. ‘My brother proposes a marriage between us.’

  ‘That is so,’ he said. ‘I lost my wife last year, God rest her soul. I have three sons, good boys all of them. They need a mother, and I need a wife. God has blessed my business and I have prospered.’

  And now you want a gentry wife to improve your standing, I thought, but did not say. There was no need. We both understood the reality being discussed: Cat’s status for his money.

  I peeped at him under my lashes. Perhaps he was not handsome like Anthony, and there were pockmarks scattered over his cheeks, but there was something pleasing about the intelligence in his face, the acuteness of his eyes. He was not repulsive, not at all.

  If I were Cat, I decided, I would have been happy to marry him. He was sober, yes, but Gabriel Thorne would be a good balance for her gaiety, if only she could be brought to consider it.
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  ‘A marriage between us would be pleasing to me,’ he was saying. ‘Your brother has given his consent – indeed, he is eager for the match. I understand that your position is uncertain now,’ Gabriel added carefully, ‘and that the new Lord Delahay may come to take up his inheritance at any time. I can offer you a fine house in London and a home for your daughter. I would bring her up as my own if you would wed me.’ He paused, and his eyes searched mine until I squirmed in my chair. ‘What say you, my lady?’

  ‘Will you give me time to consider?’ I said after a moment. I could not bring myself to reject him outright as Cat had so foolishly commanded. ‘It is not long since I buried my husband.’

  He bowed his head courteously. ‘I understand,’ he said, but his gaze was puzzled. No doubt Avery had assured him that Cat would do as instructed. He should have known better.

  ‘I . . . I will think about it, what you have said,’ I told him.

  ‘I hope that you will,’ he said, and a sudden smile lit the severe features. ‘Write to me when you have made your decision. I will wait for your letter.’

  ‘Think about it?’ Cat was outraged, of course, when I told her what I had said. ‘Did I not tell you to reject him?’

  ‘It seemed sensible not to reject him straight away,’ I said. ‘He would go back to your brother, perhaps, and then you would have Avery haranguing you. As it is, Mr Thorne will wait for a letter from you, which will not come, and the matter will be quietly forgotten.’

  Cat sniffed. She never did like to be out-argued.

  ‘Would you not at least think about his offer?’ I tried. ‘You had a chance to see him for yourself. He was quite gentlemanlike, was he not?’

  ‘Gentlemanlike is not the same as being a gentleman,’ Cat snapped. ‘My father raised me to marry into the nobility. Do you think he would be content with a mere merchant?’

  ‘He would want you to be content,’ I said.

  ‘Well, I will not be content as a merchant’s wife.’ Cat tossed her head. ‘Stop trying to persuade me otherwise, Mary. You become tedious. Quite apart from anything else, what do you think he would say if he came to betroth himself to you and found a quite different Lady Delahay waiting for him?’