Sprig of Thyme

by Jenna Dawlish

  Frederick stared at her. “Yes.”

  “What ails him?”

  “He was stabbed by his father, he has a fever caused by the wound, and the doctor believes he has but a small chance of survival. Yet, in this fevered state he is calling for you, and the doctor thinks that if you were to go to him, then his chances may improve. . .that he may even recover.”

  “His father stabbed him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because he would not marry who his father wanted?” She looked into Frederick's face. “He confronted his father, and his father stabbed him?”

  “Exactly.”

  “But what of his father now? Surely Joel is not safe from him?”

  “His father is dead, and Joel was the one who killed him. Though it was in self defence of both him and his mother.”

  She barely noticed the words before, but now she sat down, pale and trembling and Frederick followed suit in the chair opposite.

  “Then you will come?” There was a note of hope in his voice.

  “It is all my fault. I should have insisted he did as his father asked. If I had refused him and given him no hope. . .”

  She watched as Frederick felt in his jacket pocket, and pulled out a wooden hair comb. “Is this yours?”

  Adella leaned forward and took it, “Yes! How did you come to have it?”

  “I found it in Joel's coat pocket, he was carrying it.”

  “I do not understand. . .” Adella said, “How did he come to have it?”

  “I do not know, all I do know is that you must believe me when I tell you that you are his only hope.” Frederick shook his head as though trying to shake the memory. “If you ever loved him then you will come with me and hope to God that he is still alive when we get there.”

  Suddenly she stood up, seized by blind panic. “We must leave at once. If what you say is true, there is no time to lose.”

  Frederick nodded. “Gather a few clothes. I have a carriage waiting at the Inn along the road, I can have it ready in half an hour.”

  Adella ran to her mother and explained quickly where she was going.

  “You must go,” her mother said. “Whatever your feelings have been, it is the Christian thing to do – to try and save him.”

  In an urgent yet sad tone she said, “I must go to him. He may be dead, he may die yet, but I must see him.”

  “You are not going alone with that man? Who is he?”

  “He is a great friend of Joel's, and he will see me safely to Bedfordshire.”

  “But you cannot travel alone with him! It is not right.”

  Adella faltered for a moment. Her mother had a point. “It does not matter. Nothing will stop me from going. Nothing. Especially propriety.”

  With that, she ran upstairs and quickly gathered a few items.

  Fifteen minutes later she saw from her bedroom window the carriage pull up and Frederick jump out.

  She quickly bundled a few more items into her bag, and hurried downstairs. When she got outside, her mother and Frederick were deep in conversation. She did not hear what they said, though her mother looked a little more relaxed than earlier.

  “Adella,” her mother said, “I have told this gentleman that if he touches you, I will kill him myself.”

  Adella looked from her mother to Frederick, and blushed deeply.

  Frederick gave a small bow and in a serious tone replied, “And I have told your mother, that I do not wish to tarnish what is so dear to my friend. I will protect her and cherish her as though she were my own sister.”

  At that, Frederick helped Adella into the carriage and they pulled away.

  Chapter 18

  Flora hurried through to the living area at the back of her Uncle's shop, Dr Preston had arrived a few minutes before for his evening dinner, and she was cruelly detained from him by a dithering customer. All the time she could hear the sound of Helen's flirting and laughing in the distance as she and her aunt entertained him. Finally the customer left, and her uncle closed the shop and counted the days takings.

  She approached the sitting room, but before she could enter, Helen came out to meet her.

  “There you are! Where have you been?” She lowered her voice to a whisper, “I have had to keep Dr Preston company for what seems like an age, Aunt is busy in the kitchen.”

  “I thought she was with you.”

  “No, not any more. It is your turn to speak to him now. I am tired of it. I have other things to do before dinner.”

  “What things?”

  “All sorts of things, I don't expect you to understand.”

  Flora watched as Helen rushed off upstairs. She went into the sitting room, not unhappy that Helen was out of the way. Dr Preston was sat on the settee reading a newspaper. He stood up as she entered, smiled broadly and folded away the paper.

  “Please, do not let me interrupt you from your reading,” Flora said.

  “No, not at all. It is full of rubbish. Besides, I can read it when I get home.”

  She seated herself in the chair next to him, “It has been a busy day in the shop. I am glad to be of help to Uncle and Aunt at such times.”

  “You enjoy working here? You would not miss it at all?”

  “Miss it? Well I do not think my mother and father will want me home as long as Uncle and Aunt can make use of me. Do you think I am of use to them?”

  “Of course you are,” he spoke gently, “you are a godsend to them. They frequently say to me how quick you learn and how helpful you are.”

  She relaxed, “I would hate it if they did not want me here, I like it so much. Though sometimes, it can be a little disconcerting. For example, there seems to be a lot of people with colds at the moment.”

  “Yes, I hope you will not catch one from them,” he said with a concerned countenance.

  She smiled, “I will try not to. Besides, Uncle deals with most of those customers. He is protective of me in that respect.”

  “Yes, he does look after you.” Leonard suddenly leaned forward and in a low voice said, 'But not as well as a husband would look after you.”

  Flora was a little taken aback. She avoided his earnest gaze, and fixed her eyes on her hands folded in her lap, and murmured, “No, I suppose not. But Uncle often says he does not know how he managed without me before.”

  But instead of sitting back into the chair, as she expected him to, Leonard stayed where he was. He was still staring straight at her; she could tell. Their faces barely a foot apart. He moved his hand to cover hers. Finally, his patience paid off and she lifted her eyes to meet his. He was about to speak when they heard Mrs Alther in the hall, shouting that dinner was ready.

  He quickly withdrew his hand, and then stood up, ran his hand through his hair and said, “Yes of course. You are needed here aren't you. The shop becomes busier and busier these days, and your Uncle and Aunt need all the help they can get. Especially from someone so competent as you. Forgive me I – I think we should go to dinner.” Then before she knew what had happened, he whisked past her and left the room.

  Flora stood for a few dazed moments on her own; what did that mean? And why did he leave so abruptly? For one fleeting moment it seemed as though he felt the same as she: admiration, esteem.

  Love.

  For love it now was.

  On her part at least. But he obviously did not feel the same. It was clear he only had brotherly feelings towards her. She had after all taken the place of Adella. She stood up, and gained enough presence of mind to go to the dining room.

  Neither spoke to each other throughout dinner. Flora sometimes looked at Dr Preston but he kept his eyes firmly on everyone else and never tried to include her in his conversation like he usually did. She picked at her food. Hunger deserted her at the thought that she had somehow offended him. She kept going over their conversation in her mind but could not think what had upset him. She decided to speak to him about it after dinner, but her anguish was further deepened when Dr Preston left as soon as he
finished eating. Something that he never did unless he was called away by a patient.

  “Oh, I suppose he gets bored with us,” Mr Alther said after he left.

  “It's Flora's fault, she scared him off with her silence!” Helen said.

  “I did not!” Flora replied, but she doubted her own words. Was she too silent? She should have tried to make conversation with him over dinner, asked him a question or two so that he had to answer and speak to her. She couldn't think what to say when they were all sat around the table. Later, with her thoughts in turmoil, she went upstairs for some peace from Helen's unending twittering to try and figure out what to say to Dr Preston when she saw him next.

  ***

  As the carriage pulled away, Adella waved to her mother through the window. When they turned the corner and her mother was out of sight, she closed the carriage window and sat back.

  Frederick, seated opposite, watched as she settled into the seat. She looked at him, and for the first time noticed the pale tinge to his face, and the dark shadows under his eyes. For a long while, neither of them spoke; they both sat and stared out of the window at the passing landscape. The houses became sparser and the trees and fields more frequent as they drove away from Aylesbury.

  Frederick was only roused from his own thoughts by Adella's soft entreaty, “What kind of man imprisons his own son?”

  “The kind of man who stabs his own son in cold blood and tries to strangle his wife straight afterwards,” he replied.

  “When he came to Sidmouth, he did seem troubled. There was something. . .quietly suppressed in his demeanour. I remember it well. I believed him to be of a pensive nature. I did not think he was hiding such an awful secret. How naive I was. If I knew, I could have helped him. Just a little.”

  “You did help him, though you did not know his secret.”

  “How?”

  “By loving him for himself, rather than who he was. Joel Michael Henry Polwarth, eldest son and heir of Michael Polwarth, who happens to own near enough half of East Bedfordshire.”

  Adella smiled. “I could not help but love him, everything about him made me love him, and it happened so quickly. But I do think, in fact I know, he would not have looked twice at me if he had not been masquerading as a tutor.” She sighed deeply, “I have often thought of the time we spent together. Though it pained me to think I was deceived, we spent many happy hours together. It is not the sort of thing that is easily forgotten, however hard you try. He was so knowledgeable, and yet he was not arrogant. He never made me feel stupid. He was gentle and thoughtful too. . .”

  Frederick smiled back at her tender words and voice. “I do not think many men and women spend so much time together as you both did. You had a great advantage to get to know each other on intimate terms.”

  “Indeed,” she blushed a little. “We met outside several times too, it was most improper, and I have never behaved in such a way since.”

  Frederick tried to hide a smile. But he failed, and Adella's questioning look made him speak. “I am sorry. It's just I can imagine you scampering about through fields going to meet Joel, and him waiting for you.”

  She blushed again and looked down. Frederick said no more. And they descended into silence for nearly an hour. Their silence was only broken when the carriage stopped to have the horses changed. They both got out for a short time to stretch their legs, and a few minutes later, were on the road again. Frederick's instructions to the driver and groom to heavily tip the Inn staff ensured a speedy return to Bedfordshire.

  Adella's thoughts returned to the subject of his family. “Was his father always cruel to him?” she asked.

  “No. Not when he was very young, but as he grew older Joel learnt how to stop his father from getting angry. He bore the brunt of his brothers' disobedience as well as his own.”

  “He received punishment if they misbehaved?”

  “Yes.”

  “It is too cruel,” she shifted around in her seat, “How can a man sleep at night when he does such things?”

  “Probably with a sleeping draught,” Frederick replied in a dry tone.

  Adella did not acknowledge the joke, but asked, “Tell me, did Joel, did he ever speak about me? I mean, before Cynthia died.”

  “Yes, though he tried to forget you. But when he came away from Sidmouth he told me all about you and what he did. Then, I remember most vividly when he was drunk a few years afterwards, he spoke for hours about you. He was married by then of course. So, yes he did speak about you, but only on the rarest occasions. I think it pained him too much.”

  Adella looked out of the carriage window once more but did not notice the passing landscape. She yawned, suddenly tired, more from emotional tension than lack of sleep. Frederick took the hint and remained silent for sometime. But eventually he found himself saying, “Does it bother you that he chose his brothers over you?”

  “Not now. I understand he had to guard them. He did the right thing by protecting those who could not protect themselves. It's the sort of thing he would do. It is honourable. I only wish he told me at the time.” Adella sighed, “I was trying to think whether the last five years would have been easier or harder if I knew the truth.”

  “And what do you conclude?”

  “I don't know.”

  Adella wanted to cry but the tears would not come. Would he be alive when they arrived? What would he say to her? Her thoughts settled on the recent events in Bath, she asked, “Why were you so cruel to me in Bath?”

  He looked up surprised, “I was not cruel.”

  “I think you were.” she said in low tone, “I think you took pleasure in seeing me suffer.”

  “I am sorry if I seemed unkind. I did not mean to be, but accept my sincerest apologies,” he said gallantly.

  She gave a small smile and they were silent for a time until she asked, “He has the best Physician?”

  “Of course. I would not neglect him now, and in that respect. Doctor Chapman is the best in Bedfordshire.”

  “Do you think he will die?” she asked tentatively.

  “I honestly do not know. But the doctor thought he could have a chance if only he would rest. As I said before, you are his best chance of that happening.”

  “Then I hope he does recognise me. But surely, does he not ask for his daughter?”

  The mention of Sarah made Adella flush a little, and she dared not meet Frederick's eye.

  He eyed her pensively, “No, he does not call for his daughter. He calls for you.” Then after a pause, he continued, “You should know when Joel married Cynthia, he did not go near her. After nearly a year of marriage, Joel's father found out that Joel and Cynthia had not . .” Frederick pulled at his shirt collar.

  “I understand,” Adella said and at last met his eye.

  “Well, sorry I'm not used to speaking of such matters with a lady.”

  She nodded and he continued, “You see, when Joel's father found out that he had not. . .visited Cynthia's room, he threatened to do so himself.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth.

  “Joel had no choice in the end. Cynthia thought she had the most understanding and thoughtful husband because he made no demands of her. Though, in the end, she wanted to conceive. But only because all her acquaintances thought she was barren.”

  “But he is a good father? I always thought he would be.”

  “Yes. He may have been indifferent to the mother, but he loves Sarah. About six months after Sarah was born, Cynthia became ill. Though it was some time before we all realised it would result in her death. She was ill many times before you see. Always complaining about something or other. Joel was patient with her, far more than I could have been. Anyway, they ended up in Bath as you know.”

  They hardly spoke for the rest of journey, with only the odd passing comment for politeness sake. Though both were each deep in thought about the man who lay ill; each willed and prayed that he would live. They stopped once more to change the horses, and this was don
e with swift efficiency.

  The carriage entered Biggleswade and finally pulled up at Polwarth House at eight thirty. Adella eagerly looked through the carriage window at the house. It was a newer looking building than she expected. Smaller too. There were only two main floors, not including the attic and basement. She counted eight huge windows at the front, and a large stone porch way in the middle of the house that lead inside. The gardens extended as far as she could see; trees, fields and ornamental gardens that looked lovingly cared for.

  Frederick immediately alighted the carriage, and handed Adella down. There were several servants waiting, and Adella felt slightly embarrassed. Did they know why she was here?

  She heard Frederick as he spoke to one of them and gave him an inquiring look. He answered it. “He is still alive. But we should go up immediately,” he said.

  Adella exhaled deeply in relief and before she knew it, Frederick indicated for her to follow him through the main door. No servants' entrance this time. Her heart still beat fiercely, and she dared not look too closely around the large house and exquisite staircase she ascended. Joel's family home was sumptuous indeed but she determined not to be over-awed. Occasionally her eyes would fall on a portrait, or ornament, but her mind did not take in the details.

  They entered a labyrinth of hall ways, and passed door after door, until finally they reached the end of a long corridor.

  “He is in here,” Frederick said standing aside. The large oak door was already open, and Adella hesitated for a moment. Frederick glanced down at her anxious eyes.

  “I am not afraid,” she said, “Though I am a little nervous.”

  Frederick nodded, but he offered no more help, and Adella walked trance-like across the threshold of the room.

  She stood still for a moment and took in what she saw. A middle-aged man stood by the large bed; she recognised a doctor at work when she saw one. Joel was in the bed thrashing about, but as soon as she walked into the large room he stopped.

  He gazed at her, “Hush, she is here. At last she comes to me,” he whispered.