The Butchered Man

by Harriet Smart

  Miss Hilliard walked about, putting out copy-books and blotters on the desks, and then stopped and looked up at him, for he was standing on the dais, leaning against the teacher’s desk.

  “So then,” she said, “what are these questions you must ask me?”

  “I wanted to know if you had thought over what I had said.”

  “Surely, Major, you cannot think that any lady would consider such a thing for a moment let alone ‘think it over’.”

  “I was not speaking of that.”

  “But I think we ought to. It was a great insult, Major. That I am speaking to you now is –”

  “You say it was an insult,” he said, stepping from the dais and going towards her. “But I am not entirely convinced you were really offended. But naturally I apologise for my words. I was rash.”

  “I am glad to hear you say it,” she said. “Though how you know whether I was insulted or not, I am not sure. You are determined to make presumptions about me.” She looked up him for a moment with those clear grey eyes, cool and appraising.

  “When you look at me like that,” he said, “I find it hard not to. You are a riddle I want to solve.”

  She shook her head and walked past him and onto the dais. He turned, and leaning against one of the desks, watched as she fiddled with her papers unnecessarily.

  “No answer to that?” he could not help saying.

  “Your insolence is beyond me. You are a married man, Major Vernon, and yet you behave as if...”

  “As do you, ma’am,” he said, amused by her fluster. “You take pleasure in my company as I do in yours. We cannot help ourselves from doing that. And I think you did consider what I said. It is not entirely a sin to consider a thing like that, especially if one decides not to do anything about it.”

  “I should do something about it. I should ask you to leave at once.”

  “You should, but you do not,” he said.

  She was silent for a moment and then said, “Because, I suppose, I know that you cannot be as bad as you pretend to be. You are entirely a gentleman. I am safe with you, even if your tongue does rattle outrageously. Your circumstances are difficult. You are entitled to compassion, even if you forget yourself from time to time. That is one thing I have learnt from my time here: that nothing in these matters is simple. And I do enjoy your company,” she said, stepping down from her desk and coming towards him. “That is the plain truth.”

  “It was not my intention to force a confession from you,” he said.

  “No, I know that,” she said.

  “And we will leave matters at that,” he said. “We are not natural sinners.”

  “No,” she said, with a slight smile. “I hope not.”

  “We have work to do, important work, after all,” he said, gesturing around him.

  She nodded and pressed her folded fingertips to her lips.

  “So why did you come today?” she said.

  “To ask you if you had decided to investigate the matter of the girl.”

  “I see,” she said.

  “I know how this offends you but I must pursue this matter. I cannot be easy in my mind about this. I know I should trust you, but I do need to know that adequate inquiries have been made.”

  To his surprise she was nodding.

  “I did consider it.”

  “And?” he asked.

  “I will make inquiries. You were right.”

  “Might I see the young woman for myself?”

  “Yes, I see no reason why not.”

  As he went upstairs with her, he found himself wondering if it were possible for them to forge some new kind of intimacy that did not violate the laws of decency. Although the desire to possess her was still strong in his mind, and her beauty was working powerfully on him, he found asking himself if, with care and time, such feelings might pass. He was not so young and needy. He could master such feelings, if he were given the sustenance of a real friendship. With a woman like this surely that would bring a different sort of satisfaction? Ultimately it might even be more satisfying. Perhaps they might achieve a marriage of the mind and spirit, something pure and untainted by the world.

  They had climbed the stairs to the top floor of the building, and were walking along a passageway before he collected his thoughts again. He cursed his mind for taking flight so easily.

  “I have put her up here because it is nice and quiet, away from the hubbub downstairs. And under the eaves it is warmer than the big rooms downstairs,” Miss Hilliard was saying opening a door to him. “I should sleep up here myself if I had the choice. Away from everything.”

  The room was sparsely furnished but it was clean and in the afternoon sun it was full of light. The girl lay in a low bed under the eaves, with a faded but still serviceable striped quilt neatly tucked around her. She did not stir as they came in. Her hair had been brushed and lay coiled in a fat fair braid on the pillow, finished with a ribbon. Someone had dealt tenderly enough with that. He glanced around, noting the water jug and beaker, the tray on the table containing medicines, the neatly folded pile of spare linen. It was not luxurious but it all spoke of kindly intentions.

  He went a little closer to the girl, crouching down beside her. She seemed in a deep and tranquil sleep, almost like a child. Her complexion was very pale, but that, he supposed, was to be expected after such a serious illness.

  “She looks comfortable there, does she not?” said Miss Hilliard, coming in softly.

  Giles turned around and looked up at her, savouring for a moment the fine sculpted contours of her face. The simplicity of the room seemed to increase her beauty.

  “I am sure you have done everything you can for her.”

  “I hope so. And I shall do as you suggest. I was being stubborn with you. I realise that you only meant to give me good advice.”

  He felt his heart contract at such a concession, knowing how much it would cost her pride to say such a thing. He watched as she walked away to the window and stood with her back to him, looking out.

  “It will not be easy to ask such questions,” she said, after a long moment.

  “Naturally,” he said. “And perhaps you will not like what you discover. That is something you must face as well.”

  “You will make me falter in my resolve. You are supposed to encourage me, Major,” she said, turning back to him, with a smile.

  “I promise I shall,” he said with a slight bow.

  “So tell me, what is the best way to proceed?”

  “Gently – but I am sure you know that,” he said. “If you have a person’s trust and confidence they will tell you their secrets. And of course, you must not be too quick to judge – or at least to display that judgment. Someone who is afraid will never admit anything to you. But as I said, I am sure you know that.”

  She came back over to the bedside and knelt down and stroked the girl’s forehead.

  “Poor dear creature. If she was driven to do such a thing... although it hardly seems possible... I wish she had found the courage to tell me of her condition. Perhaps she was afraid of me, or what I might do or say. I suppose to the girls at times I must appear to be something of a tyrant. But I only ever mean to be their friend. I have done everything here only to help them, to find them a better way to live.”

  The door opened behind her and she started at it, and turned.

  “Carswell, what are you doing here?” Giles said, equally startled at the sight of him.

  “I could not stay. I have seen to the others, and now I must see her.”

  He went straight to the bedside and crouched down.

  “Mr Carswell, I beg you to leave her be. You will wake her,” said Miss Hilliard.

  He had taken her hand out from under the covers and was feeling for her pulse.

  “Good God, she’s practically insensible!” he exclaimed. “Her pulse, it’s...” He was on his knees now, pressing his ear to her chest. “Ye gods...” he muttered. “How long has she been like this?”

&n
bsp; “I beg your pardon?” said Miss Hilliard.

  “How long?”

  “I... I...” Miss Hilliard broke off.

  “Sir?” Carswell looked at Giles.

  “She has been asleep since we came in. But we only came in a few minutes ago.”

  Carswell began to scrabble in the leather bag he still wore crossways over his chest. He brought out his stethoscope and began again to listen to her heart, grimacing as he did.

  “But you don’t know when she fell asleep?” he said to Miss Hilliard.

  “No, I do not.”

  He flicked up the girl’s eyelids.

  “I assume you have given her something?”

  “Well, yes, I suppose so.”

  “You suppose? Did you or did you not?” Carswell said.

  “Mr Carswell –” Giles began.

  “Sir, this is a matter of great urgency. This girl has been doped. This is not normal sleep. She is insensible. Her pulse is weak, her pupils are dilated, she does not wake. You can see that for yourself!”

  “I think Mrs Lepaige may have given her something to help her sleep,” Miss Hilliard said. “She was with her this morning. She often comes here.”

  “And what did she give her?”

  “I don’t know. One of her herbal tisanes. Nothing stronger than that. What do you mean doped, sir?”

  “Exactly what I said. Are you sure you don’t know what it was?”

  “No, but I cannot think –”

  “You did not think,” said Carswell. “Or else you would not have let a sick girl drink some unknown substance.”

  “Mrs Lepaige’s teas are famous,” said Miss Hilliard. “She is very skilful at such things. I have taken them myself with no ill effects. I think you are –”

  “Abigail was already in a distressed and weakened condition and then you subjected her to indiscriminate quackery!” exclaimed Carswell. “Having consistently refused my professional services, you let some meddling woman give her God knows what? If I do not know what it was, I can do nothing for this girl. I will try to revive her, but I don’t hold out much hope. Not if she stays here!”

  This last remark was flung squarely at Giles.

  “Are you certain of this, Mr Carswell?”

  “Yes,” Carswell said, still busily working to revive her.

  “Then I must ask your leave to remove her, Miss Hilliard. We will take her to my sister’s house. Everything will be done for her care that can be, but she cannot stay here.”

  “I do not understand,” Miss Hilliard said. “Why not?”

  “Something is not right here,” he said, with all the gentleness he could manage. “Someone here has tried to harm this girl and for her own safety I must take her away.”

  “But if Mrs Lepaige does not see her, then surely –”

  “Mrs Lepaige is not necessarily the person responsible for this, although it might seem that way,” Giles said. “There are many people who have had access to this girl.”

  “Mr Carswell included,” she said, looking levelly at Giles. “It seems he has been coming and going as he pleases.”

  “It is just as well that I did!” said Carswell.

  “What I meant, sir, was that your intentions towards Abigail might well have been malicious,” she said.

  “I would examine your own conscience first, before you start accusing me,” Carswell said.

  “Whatever Mr Carswell has done, wrongly or rightly, it is as well that he is here to discover this,” Giles said. “And I must take her away now. You must trust me, Miss Hilliard, it is for the best. Yes?”

  She stood knotting her fingers, considering.

  “You are asking a great deal,” she said, quietly.

  “I know the welfare of these girls is your greatest concern,” he said. “For that reason alone you must let me take her away.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” she said after a moment. “You are quite right.”

  ***

  Giles sent Carswell off in the carriage with the girl with a hastily written note to Sally. He would take Carswell’s mare back himself.

  He stood on the steps watching the carriage depart with Miss Hilliard at his side.

  “The sooner we find out what it was, the better. I will go and speak to Mrs Lepaige at once.”

  He was about to mount the mare, when she came forward and laid her hand on his arm.

  “There was something I did not tell you before. It is has been on my conscience. About Mrs Lepaige. Of course it has nothing to do with this, but –”

  “What is it?”

  “It is so unpleasant a thing. You will make a horrid conclusion from it.”

  “But you think I should know it?”

  “Yes, because it makes me draw a horrid conclusion. This business only confirms it.”

  “You are contradicting yourself,” he could not help saying.

  “There are some things one does not like to say of another soul. When Mr Carswell said she had been doped, and Mrs Lepaige was mentioned, I felt cold in my heart. I have often thought... I told you she was angry. Well, I think she is more than that. I saw something – that is what has been on my conscience. I probably should have told you this that first day when we talked of poor Mr Rhodes, but it was so unpleasant and...”

  “What did you see?”

  “I came upon them quarrelling – rather she was saying terrible things to him. He let her go on and on at him. I did not know what to do with myself. I wondered if I should break in and stop her, but I thought it would be too painful for her to know that anyone else had witnessed such a dreadful loss of control.”

  “And these terrible things, what were they?”

  “She called him a fornicator, a seducer, a....a rapist. It was very unpleasant.”

  “And you don’t think there could be any truth in such accusations?” he said.

  “No, no, of course not. There was nothing in Mr Rhodes’ conduct to merit it. That was why her outburst was so shocking. There was no justification for it. It sounded like sheer malice.”

  “And how did Mr Rhodes take this onslaught?”

  “I could not see his expression. He did not say anything. But really, what could a man say in the face of such wildness? And then I think she must have slapped him – I heard something like that, I think, and then suddenly she was coming down the passageway towards me. Fortunately I was able to go into the nearest room so she did not see me.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “A few weeks ago.”

  “Before or after it was known about the business of the living?”

  “I am not sure, to tell you the truth,” she said.

  “And how often has she been here to see this girl Abigail?” Giles asked.

  “You think the worst of her now, don’t you?” she exclaimed suddenly. “I should not have said anything.”

  “It would have been wrong of you to say nothing,” he said. “You did the right thing.”

  “Her teas are quite safe, I am sure of it,” Miss Hilliard. “She would never do anything to harm one of the girls. Her anger at Mr Rhodes was an aberration, an exception.”

  “That may or may not be the case,” Giles said, climbing up onto the horse. “Thank you for telling me this. Now, I must go.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  He found the Lepaiges in their dining room, eating a frugal meal. There were six of them at table – three daughters and one of the boys who was not away at school.

  “It is a matter of some urgency, I’m afraid,” he said. “Mrs Lepaige, I must speak with you.”

  She got up from the table, and took him into a small, cold back parlour.

  “Yes, Major Vernon?”

  “I believe you were at Brinklow earlier today.”

  “Yes, I was.”

  “Can I ask what you were doing there?”

  “I often go there,” she said. “I help Miss Hilliard.”

  “And today?”

  “There is a sick girl there. I
sat with her a while and gave her one of my teas.”

  “Abigail Prior?”

  “Yes, Abigail, that’s right. Why do you ask?”

  “She seems to have been doped. The surgeon was unable to revive her.”

  Mrs Lepaige looked startled.

  “Doped?” she said. “But... I only gave her a little camomile and a few other things to soothe her. Is the surgeon quite sure it is a chemical effect?”

  “Quite,” said Giles.

  “I only gave her the weakest solution,” said Mrs Lepaige, in some distress. “I was careful, you see, because she was so very weak already.”

  “You have not given her anything else on a previous occasion? Something that might have had a cumulative effect – I understand that may happen?”

  “No, no, that was the first time I had seen her for a few days. I meant to go earlier, but Miss Hilliard assured me she was improving. She had a fever, you see.”

  “After her miscarriage,” said Giles. “Yes.”

  Mrs Lepaige glanced at him and he wondered if he saw fear in her eyes.

  “Oh, did she miscarry?” she said after a moment. “I was not aware that she had.”

  “I am surprised you did not know that,” Giles could not help saying. She did not answer. He took out his notebook and pencil and said: “If you could write out a list of exactly what you gave her this afternoon, and on previous occasions.” She nodded. “Now, if you please, ma’am,” he said handing her the notebook.

  “Yes. I will just fetch a candle,” she said. “I cannot see to write in here.”

  While she was gone, he peered out of the window into the garden, which was scarcely visible in the dusk. Mrs Lepaige returned with a candle. She stood writing for a few moments. “There,” she said, and handed him back his notebook.

  “Thank you. I must take this to Mr Carswell. But before I go, is there anything else you wish to tell me, Mrs Lepaige?” he said gently.

  “No, no, I don’t think so.”

  “Are you certain?” he said, noticing how she had hesitated for a moment before she answered. She shook her head. “I will call again tomorrow,” he went on, “and tell you how she does.”

  “Thank you, Major, that would be a kindness,” she said, and he felt she was seriously rattled.