by Anne Herries
‘He wishes to speak to you—and says he has a message for you, mistress, but I think...he seems suspicious to me.’
‘Thank you, Tom,’ Babette said, and her heart caught with anxiety. Who could the messenger be—and why had he aroused her servant’s suspicion?
Babette pulled off the gloves she’d warn to protect her hands, thrusting them into the basket that carried the herbs she had been gathering. She set the basket down in the hall and hurried through to the parlour. A man was standing before the window, his back towards her; his dress proclaimed him a Royalist and she understood her servant’s suspicion, for to him he represented the enemy. However, Babette knew him at once.
‘Drew Melbourne,’ she said. ‘What brings you here?’
He turned to face her, and as she saw his expression, a shiver went through her. She reached for the back of a chair, holding on to it as her head began to whirl and her heart raced.
‘Forgive me,’ Drew said. ‘I am the bearer of ill news and I wish I had not been...but I must tell you that John was wounded and lies ill at Oxford. I am not sure that he will survive long enough for you to reach him, but he begs that you will come.’
‘Surely it is Alice he needs,’ Babette said. All her senses were protesting, for she did not wish to leave the home she was coming to love. What would James think if she were not here when he returned? He would believe that she had deserted him. ‘I am to be wed soon—to your cousin, sir.’
‘Yes, I am aware of this,’ Drew replied. ‘James Colby forwarded Alice’s letter to us, as he promised you. However, Alice has little skill in nursing and I do not forget that you saved my life. I fear that John may die unless you come to him.’
‘I am sorry for my brother’s situation,’ Babette said, her chest tight with emotion, ‘of course I am, but I do not wish to leave here. You have no right to ask it of me.’
‘James will understand that you had to go to your brother. I know him for a decent, God-fearing man. In God’s mercy, lady, you cannot deny your brother when he needs you.’ His dark eyes accused her and she could not meet them, for he was right.
Babette’s throat was tight. She cared for her brother, but she was afraid that if she went to him in Oxford and he recovered, he would try to detain her there. He would not wish her to leave and return to James—and how would she make the long journey alone? Yet how could she desert her brother when he needed her? To do so would be a shameful act and lie heavy on her conscience. If he should die...
‘I know it is unfair,’ Drew said. ‘I will give my word that I will escort you back here when John has recovered—will that content you?’
Babette’s eyes stung with tears. She was being torn apart and it was unfair, but in her heart she knew she could not refuse his request.
‘Why did you not ask for Alice?’
‘You know she will scream and weep. I beg you to comfort her, Mistress Babette. You are so much stronger than she and she will need you in the days ahead.’
It was true. Alice would be little use at nursing her husband and, if he should die, she would be grief-stricken. Babette had no choice but to go with them.
‘I must leave a letter for James,’ she said reluctantly. ‘I will tell Alice for you and we will be ready to leave in an hour.’
‘Thank you.’ He smiled approvingly. ‘I knew that I might place my trust in you.’
‘You promise that you will return me to my home?’
‘I give you my word.’
‘Then I shall leave you, for there is much to do.’
Babette left him and made her way to Alice’s chamber. She was nursing the child and for once looked happy. Babette’s heart sank because she did not relish the task of telling her sister-in-law that her husband was very ill.
‘What is it?’ Alice was suddenly still, seeming to sense her mood. ‘Something has happened...it is John. Is he dead?’
‘Wounded. He needs our help, Alice. I have promised to accompany you to Oxford and help you to nurse him...and then I shall return here with Drew Melbourne’s escort.’
‘You are coming to Oxford with us?’ Alice stared at her, her eyes wide and frightened. ‘He is dying, isn’t he? I have known for days that something was wrong.’
Perhaps she had. Sometimes it was possible to know these things without being told. Babette felt guilty for having misjudged her, thinking her moods merely selfish.
‘Drew asked me to help with the nursing. I have given my word. Pack what you need, Alice. I must write a letter to James and then I shall gather my things. I told Drew we should leave in an hour.’
‘Then I must hurry,’ Alice said. ‘Thank you, Babette. I do not think I could face this alone.’
Babette was surprised at how calm Alice seemed. It was almost as though she had expected the worst and now that it had happened she was calm, even relieved.
Leaving her to pack her clothes, Babette went to her own chamber. She sat at her table and, dipping her quill in the inkpot, she wrote her letter to James. It was filled with her regret and her hopes that she would return in time for their wedding. She begged him for his understanding, explaining that she could not desert Alice and her brother at such a time. Her throat tight with tears, she sealed the paper with hot wax and took it downstairs.
Calling Mrs Brisket to her in her parlour, she gave her the letter and told her that she had been summoned to her brother’s bedside.
‘He is very ill and may die before I reach Oxford,’ she said. ‘I do not wish to leave, but I cannot desert my family at such a time. I shall return the moment I am able.’
‘I shall give your letter to the master,’ Mrs Brisket said. She placed the sealed paper on the mantelpiece, behind the large silver candelabra. ‘I shall draw his attention to your message, my lady—and if you return before he does you will find it there.’
‘Thank you.’ Babette sighed. ‘I am so sorry to leave.’
‘It is a sad thing for you and we shall miss you, but it is your duty to go. Will you take your servants with you?’
‘I think Maigret and Jonas must accompany us, but Ned can remain here. He is useful in the fields and has settled well. I shall not uproot him. Besides, I hope to return before Captain Colby comes home.’
Bidding her farewell, Babette went upstairs to finish her packing, and Mrs Brisket to the kitchen. Neither of them witnessed Alice as she entered the room in search of her needlework, nor did they see what she did there.
* * *
Half an hour later the small cavalcade moved off. Drew had brought riding horses for the ladies and Jonas drove the wagon with Maigret sitting beside him and the baby lying in a bed of cushions and blankets in the back of the wagon.
Alice seemed much more cheerful than she had for weeks. Babette had begun to worry for her brother, wondering if they would reach him in time, and was a little surprised to hear her sister-in-law laugh at some remark of Drew’s. She looked at him in a way that Babette felt was almost flirtatious, fluttering her lashes and pouting at him. Indeed, she seemed to have thrown off the sullen mood of the past few months, more lively and excited than Babette had ever seen her.
* * *
‘Are you all right, Alice?’ she asked when they stopped for some food.
‘Yes, why not?’ Alice said. ‘We shall be in Oxford and at last I shall have people to talk to rather than being cooped up in that awful castle. John told me that we should live in the manor house, but he broke his word to me. At least now I shall have some freedom...and I shall not have to live in a rebel’s house.’
Babette felt hurt that she could speak so coldly of the kindness and hospitality that she had received in James’s house. She felt uncertain of Alice, surprised at her manner and the careless mood that had come over her. She had expected tears or even hysterics, but Alice was cool and even a little excited to be
travelling to Oxford. She asked Drew endless questions about it, the King and his court, as if she were going for a pleasant visit rather than to the bedside of her sick husband.
More than that, she treated Babette with disdain. Sometimes she looked at her with an expression akin to hatred or acute dislike. Why had she turned against her? Was it just that Babette had refused to go to Oxford in the first place, forcing Alice to accompany her to James’s home? What was even more disturbing was that she refused to allow Babette to nurse her son, preferring that Maigret should take him when he cried. At the castle and on their flight from it, Alice had clung to Babette, but now she had turned against her.
* * *
The coldness seemed to grow stronger as they travelled and, by the time they approached Oxford, Alice seldom spoke more than two words together to Babette. Hurt by her attitude and then angered by her proud, cold manner, Babette withdrew from her and stopped offering to help her.
She had never been to Oxford before and was interested as they rode in to see how many church spires there were. The town was ancient and rather beautiful, also very busy, a market in progress as they made their way through the streets to a house of decent proportions close to the Cathedral. It was plain to see that this city was a Royalist stronghold, for it was well defended and men in hats with large plumes and brightly coloured clothes paraded through the town. Several of them noticed the ladies and swept off their hats, bowing and smiling as they rode by. Once, Babette thought she caught sight of Captain Richards, but she could not be sure, for he was riding through the street that crossed theirs and she could not be certain.
As they stopped outside the house, a rather pretty young woman looked out and beckoned to them in relief.
‘You must be Mistress Babette,’ she said. ‘Will you go up to your brother at once, please? The first chamber at the top of the stairs. Lord Harvey is very ill and he has asked for you several times.’
Alice gave a little cry and ran past Babette, thrusting her aside as she rushed upstairs. As Babette followed a little more slowly, she heard a fearful scream. Alice came to the head of the stairs and now the tears she had held back earlier were streaming down her cheeks.
‘He is dying,’ she said. ‘You must save him...you must. You owe it to me.’
Babette ignored her and went into the room she had left. Going towards the bed, she saw that the man in the bed looked a strange yellow colour, his eyes sunken and his skin had a waxen look. He was staring at her feverishly, but he did not know her. She placed a hand on his brow. He was burning up, so hot that she could not wonder he tossed and threw his limbs from side to side.
‘May I help you?’ the woman who had greeted them asked in a soft voice. ‘I am Beth. Drew asked me to do what I could for your brother, mistress, but I am not skilled in the arts of nursing. He called for you at first, but these past two days he has hardly spoken, though I think it was your name he called.’
‘He loves his wife very much, but he knows I have some skill in healing,’ Babette said. ‘If you could bring me a bowl of cool water and a towel, please? I must bathe him to reduce this heat, for he cannot bear it—and then when he is a little easier I shall make a tisane that will help the fever.’
‘Yes, of course. I can help you turn him—and then I must leave you until the morning. My father expects me home. He does not know that I have been caring for Drew’s friend. He would not think it proper.’
‘Are you not yet married?’
‘I wish that we were,’ Beth said and sighed. ‘My parents forbid it. They say that Drew leads too dangerous a life and they would not see me a widow before I am a wife—and I am but seventeen. Had there been no war I might have been wed this year.’ Her cheeks flushed. ‘We fell in love when I was but fourteen, but my father said we must wait until I was seventeen. It has been a long wait and now Father says I must wait until the war is over...’
‘Then you have my sympathy,’ Babette said. ‘It seems hardly fair that you should have to wait now that you are old enough to wed.’
Babette had pulled off the heavy covers, leaving only the sheet to cover John’s modesty.
‘Perhaps you should fetch the water and then leave me to manage,’ she suggested. ‘Your mother would not think it fitting that you should see a man naked, and John must be so if I am to bathe him.’
‘Then I shall bring the water and leave,’ Beth said, a faint flush in her cheeks.
Babette bent over her brother once more, stroking the damp hair back from his forehead. ‘Alice is here,’ she said. ‘She will come to sit with you when you are a little better. You must fight, my dear. I can help you—but not if you give up.’
John threw out his arm and groaned. She thought he seemed slightly easier, turning with a smile as Beth brought the water.
‘Thank you. I can manage now. It was good of you to come.’
‘He is Drew’s friend and saved his life...with your help. I wish that I could have done more. I fetched the physician, but he was not a great deal of help, though he dressed his wound a few times.’
Not often enough, Babette thought as she looked at the stained dressing. As Beth left the room, she was beginning to bathe her brother’s heated body. When he was easier she would remove that bloody bandage and rebind him with some healing salve, which she had brought with her.
* * *
It was only when she went downstairs with the bowl and dirty linen that she saw Alice speaking with a woman who was clearly the housekeeper. They both looked at her and she thought she saw a hint of hostility in both pairs of eyes. What had Alice been saying behind her back?
‘John is a little better now that he has been cooled,’ she said. ‘His wound looks to be healing, but it is the fever that is dangerous. I need to brew him a tisane from the herbs I brought with me. May I have some hot water, please?’
The housekeeper looked at Alice, who nodded.
‘If you would follow me, Mistress Harvey,’ she said. ‘I shall show you where the kitchen is—and your things have been taken to the attic.’
‘The attic?’ Babette stared at her. ‘I would prefer one of the guestrooms, if you do not mind—I fear I do not know your name, mistress?’
‘I am Mistress Jones,’ the woman said sourly. ‘There are only three guestrooms. Captain Melbourne has one, Lord Harvey the second—and Lady Harvey and her son the third. The only room left for you is in the attic with the...servant you brought with you.’
Babette bit back the angry words that rose to her lips. So she was to be treated as a servant in her brother’s house, was she? Well, she would not stay here a moment longer than need be. She had come here against her wishes to do what she could for John and now she was to be treated as a stranger.
Alice must hate her very much to have done this to her. She could at least have shared her room with Babette until John was well enough for her to share his bed.
Swallowing her anger behind a proud face, Babette accepted the situation. She would leave this house the moment she could.
* * *
‘I do not understand,’ James said, looking at his housekeeper in dismay. ‘Why would she go? She knew that I meant to return as soon as I was able. We are to be wed in a few days.’
‘I think it was Captain Melbourne who came to fetch her.’
‘My cousin?’ James frowned. ‘I did not know she was acquainted with him...where did they go?’
‘To Oxford, I think.’ Mrs Brisket frowned. ‘I understood her brother was lying close to death and...she gave me a letter for you, sir. I placed it on the mantelpiece in the small parlour, but after they left I saw it had gone.’
‘Are you saying she chose not to leave it?’
‘I do not know, Captain. Mistress Babette seemed most distressed to be leaving. Indeed, I would swear she did not want to go.’ Her brow creased in a frown. �
�I do not know if I should say...but it struck me that her sister-in-law was unpleasant to her at times.’
‘Was she indeed?’
James was thoughtful as he went into the small parlour. He searched for the letter lest it should have fallen down somewhere, but there was no sign of it. Why would Babette have changed her mind? If she had gone to the trouble to write to him and left it with Mrs Brisket, it was unlikely that she would decide to tear it up—why would she do that? If she’d wanted to tell him she no longer wished to be his wife, she would have certainly left the letter for him...and yet Mrs Brisket seemed certain that she had intended to come back.
He had been lucky enough to return sooner than he’d hoped, his desire to make Babette his wife so strong that he had taken an extended leave against Cromwell’s wishes. His decision not to join him on his next excursion had not pleased his leader, but James had decided that Babette must come first—and now she had gone with no word for him.
What could have happened to her letter? Babette was not in the habit of changing her mind once she had decided what she must do. If she considered it her duty, she might not have gone willingly and would certainly have wanted him to understand—so where had the letter gone?
Had someone taken it? He immediately dismissed his own people, for they had no reason to cause her grief. If what Mrs Brisket had said was true, the one person who might wish to hurt her was her brother’s wife.
He had known that Lady Harvey did not wish to come here. He had witnessed the argument when she had tried to push her sister-in-law into going to Oxford with her. Now it seemed she had had her way. Had she stolen the letter to cause trouble between them, hoping that he would simply allow Babette to leave him?
If Lady Harvey imagined that he would abandon Babette so easily she did not know him. He recalled that Babette had told him that her brother had wished to push her into a marriage with one of his friends—was this a trick to lure her back to Oxford and prevent their marriage?