by Janet Woods
She re-read the note in case she’d missed something. No, here was her money wrapped in another piece of paper and sealed with red wax. What was she to do now? She twisted the amber ring on her finger. Daniel, she must see Daniel! He’d sort this out. She just had time to catch him before he finished work.
Leaving Daisy asleep, she told the woman in charge she was going out, then hurried to Daniel’s place of work. The afternoon was growing old. Shadows stole like thieves into the alleyways, making them appear sinister places.
Pulling her shawl tightly around her, Siana kept watch over the lawyers’ office. A man came out, followed by another. As dusk crept in, a light began to shine in a window. Then it was extinguished. A man emerged, pulled the door shut behind him and inserted a key in the lock.
Siana scurried forward. If she didn’t hurry the workhouse gate would be locked against her. ‘Excuse me, sir. Is Mr Daniel Ayres still inside?’
The man turned. His glance travelled over her and dismissed her. Loftily, he said, ‘Mr Ayres is no longer employed here.’
Bewildered, she stared at him. ‘Not work for you . . . but, I thought . . .’
‘Thought what?’ He stared down his nose at her. ‘Mr Ayres wouldn’t concern himself with the likes of you. He’s gone abroad for a year, I believe. If you’ve got yourself into trouble it’s no more than you deserve. Now be off with you, girl, else I’ll call the authorities and have you charged with making a nuisance of yourself.’
She stumbled away, ashen-faced and bewildered. Daniel had gone abroad? Why hadn’t he told her he was going? She gazed at the amber ring on her finger, gently rubbing it in search of reassurance. Perhaps he’d been too busy. He wouldn’t have given her this ring if he hadn’t cared.
Dr Matheson had dropped in at the infirmary whilst she was absent.
‘You can take Daisy home tomorrow,’ the woman in charge said, at which news Siana promptly burst into tears.
‘What is it?’ the woman said kindly.
‘We have nowhere to go. I must talk to the doctor. Perhaps he’ll be able to help me.’
‘The doctor is visiting his family for a day or two. Dr Bede will be taking over his duties for the time being.’
‘I see. Then perhaps there will be room for me at the workhouse.’
The woman’s eyes slid sideways. ‘The workhouse is already overcrowded. Squire Forbes is calling an emergency meeting of the board, and no more people are being accepted at present. There’s a couple of inhabitants suffering from consumption as well as an outbreak of measles. You’d be better off somewhere else if you can find a place.’
But where? With Richard White no longer an option and Daniel unavailable to help, that left only her stepbrother and stepsister, neither of whom would willingly give her a home.
Not that she wanted to live with either of them, but she had Daisy to think of.
She shuddered at the thought. She’d rather sleep in a hedge.
9
It was cold and wet the next morning as Siana left the workhouse with Daisy on one hip and her bundle of clothes on the other. Feeling desperate, she gazed up and down the street and grappled with the problem of which direction to take to the nowhere she had in mind.
She was surprised when Tom Skinner came along with the mule and cart. He jerked a thumb at the cart. ‘Get yerself in.’
She drew back a step or two, undecided.
‘Please yourself what you do, but Daisy’s my sister and she comes with me,’ he snarled. Leaping from the cart, he snatched their sister from her arms, climbed up on the buckboard and set the cart in motion.
Siana had to run to catch him up and was in danger of being run over when she trod in a pothole and sprawled face down in the mud. Tom laughed as he drew to a halt. Her knees and elbows skinned and sore, Siana scrambled up on the cart and hugged Daisy close, wrapping her in some sacking to shield her from the driving rain. Shortly, the child fell asleep.
Tom drove the mule at a fast trot out of town. They were nearing the boundary of Croxley Farm when the rain became a deluge. Tom pulled off the road and drove up a lane into the grounds of a tumbledown cottage.
Suspicious, she turned to him. ‘Why are we stopping?’
‘She’s fair pissin’ down,’ he grumbled. ‘We’ll wait until she’s finished.’
There was barely enough roof left to find a dry spot in the cottage. Siana moved as far away from Tom as possible. Placing the sleeping Daisy on the floor, she wrapped her in their mother’s shawl before easing the clothes bundle from her shoulder, intending to place Daisy on it for comfort.
Two strides brought Tom towards her. He snatched the bundle from her and upended the contents on the ground. Finding nothing of value, he snarled, ‘Where’s the money what Reverend bloody White gave you?’
She clutched her arms about her body protectively. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tom.’
‘Don’t you now.’ He came closer, so he was standing directly in front of her. ‘Then you’d better remember, and quick smart.’ His hair was a greasy slick across his forehead, his eyes bloodshot. A dewdrop trembled on the end of his nose. She shrank away from him.
A meaty hand reached out and took hold of her hair, the other one ripped open her bodice. There, in the cleft between her breasts, was her small cache of coins.
‘No,’ she cried out as he pocketed them. ‘I need that to buy food for Daisy.’
He stared for a long moment at the swell of her breasts, mumbling, ‘What else have you got that I don’t know about?’
‘Nothing.’
His tongue ran over his lips and he muttered. ‘I’ll just make sure of that meself, I reckon.’ A foot behind the ankle sent her crashing to the floor. Then Tom was kneeling astride her stomach. ‘Them’s a nice pair of titties you’ve got, Siana Lewis.’ His hands cupped around them and jiggled them up and down. Suddenly, he squeezed them, with just enough pressure to make her cry out in pain.
Something pressed against her stomach, and she knew exactly what it was. He put his hand over her mouth and laughed. ‘Now see what you’m done, you Taffy trollop? Given me a man-sized itch. I might make you provide the remedy for that before I goes back to my loving wife.’
Siana tried to bite his hand. Loosening his grip on her mouth, he whipped his palm back and forth across her face until she felt dizzy and sick. Blood salted her tongue and seeped from her mouth.
Moving to kneel by her side, he threw her skirt up over her head. ‘Now, you’m be nice and quiet while I searches you. Then ’e won’t come to no harm.’
He was rough, pinching the flesh of her stomach, legs and buttocks, then moving his hand between her legs. She squeezed them tightly together. The laugh he gave contained a breathless quality as he gripped the soft flesh of her thighs and forced them apart.
His fingers groped inside her and he began to slide them up and down. She smacked his hand away. ‘Stop it, Tom. I’ll have you arrested for rape.’
‘Now, don’t you go putting no ideas of them sort in my head. I’m just giving you a bit of enjoyment, is all. See how wet and nice you are, and all. Just panting to have a man inside you like a she-cat on heat, ain’t you?’
He stood up and jerked her to her feet, forcing her hand against the hard swelling in his groin. ‘See what I’ve growed in my trousers especially for you. But it’s not going to be rape, for you’ll still be intact. Now, on your knees and give your brother a loving kiss.’
She gazed at him in horror for a moment, then, realizing what he was about, shook her head and pleaded, ‘Let me go, Tom.’
But his eyes were flint hard as he tangled his hands in her hair and applied pressure to try to push her to her knees. She resisted.
Twisting, she bit down on his arm and received a numbing blow to the head for her trouble. Dizzily, she remembered her mother whispering something to her. In desperation she jerked her knee up. The result couldn’t have been more dramatic. Tom gave a long-drawn-out howl, clutched his crotch and
collapsed to the ground, doubled up in agony.
Siana didn’t bother to gather her clothes together. Snatching up Daisy, she ran outside, jumped on the cart and, depositing her sister in the back, set the mule in motion.
The hedges and fields seemed to blur together, making her feel nauseated. She’d just made it to the junction where lane met lane when her way was blocked by the squire’s carriage. His horses squealed with fright and pawed at the air when she appeared.
Curses coloured the air.
Desperately she jerked the rein sideways. The cart slid, one wheel ending up in the ditch. Pitched from the buckboard, she landed in the mud, one arm stretched out to break her fall. The mule panicked and dragged the cart forward. A wheel ran over her arm. There was a sharp crack and pain nearly overwhelmed her. She groaned as the screaming Daisy landed on top of her.
Lying sideways as she was, Siana could see the carriage, dark and slick with rain. There was a series of clear visions. Water bouncing off the carriage roof and running in rivulets down the side. A door opening. The figure who emerged was top-hatted. Black boots appeared, highly polished. Legs in narrow grey trousers under a flowing black topcoat strolled towards her.
Mud began to fill her nostrils. Daisy’s screaming went on and on. She put her uninjured arm around her sister, drawing her close. ‘There, there, my little Daisy. You’ve had a bad time of it, haven’t you?’
Daisy’s screams became whimpering sobs. She snuggled her face against Siana’s neck for comfort. Siana didn’t think she could stand the pain much longer. The sky began to dim. I must be fair mazed, she thought. But no, it was the squire standing over her, blocking out the daylight.
A silver-tipped cane drew debris away from her face, allowing her to breathe. ‘Are you all right, my dear?’
How booming his voice was, but how kind and concerned his expression. Her heart wrenched as she was forcibly reminded of Daniel.
‘Thank goodness it’s you,’ she whispered, for had it been Tom she’d have been done for. ‘I’ve lost my job. There was no room at the workhouse for us and Tom Skinner attacked me. He stole all my wages and tried to . . . tried to—’ Finding it too hard to say, she choked the words back. ‘I think my arm is injured.’
He clicked his tongue in concern a couple of times. ‘Don’t worry, my dear, I’ll look after you,’ he said kindly, but his eyes were filled with a terrible anger. His polished boots sank up to the ankle in mud before her eyes, his immaculate trouser bottoms soaked up the water as he bent over her. He didn’t seem to notice as he called out, ‘Coachman, come and help me get the young lady out of here.’
‘And Daisy,’ she whispered. ‘Promise you won’t let Tom Skinner take her. He’s evil.’
‘I’m beginning to believe he might be,’ the squire said tightly, as everything faded from her view.
Francis Matheson was surprised when Edward Forbes sent a messenger with an urgent request to come quickly.
‘Be good for your aunt and uncle,’ he said to Pansy and Maryse, the two daughters from his marriage. The pair had arrived a year apart, and greatly resembled their deceased mother. So innocent and lovely, at the age of twelve and thirteen years they already showed signs of the beauty that was to be theirs.
It was hard bringing up daughters alone and they benefited greatly from these extended visits with his brother and sister-in-law, though he missed them greatly when they were there.
Prudence made no bones about the fact that she would have liked to discover a daughter or two amongst her clutch of five sons and she said the visits gave the boys an excuse to practise their manners. Prudence made sure piano practice was strictly enforced; the art of embroidery was also strictly applied and patiently endured, except for the odd exchange of glances, giggles and perhaps an intake of breath when a finger prick drew blood.
Lessons were a daily routine. The girls, in the company of their cousins, were tutored in the schoolroom upstairs, where Francis and his five elder siblings had been schooled.
Pansy, in particular, was quick-minded, showing a leaning towards maths and the sciences. Maryse was a dreamer, preferring poetry and artistic pursuits.
The male influence on the pair was all too apparent. Pansy climbed trees like a monkey, earning the admiration of her cousins as they egged her on to even greater heights. Maryse was a little more sedate, but thought nothing of giving her boisterous cousins a clout around the ear when she considered it was warranted.
Now they hugged him tight, two girls so beautifully delicate in face and form they made his heart ache. ‘I’ll miss you,’ he said gruffly.
Prudence circled an arm around each girl’s waist and drew them away as he mounted his horse. ‘You should wed again, Francis,’ she said quietly. ‘They need a mother.’
But where would he find a woman suitable to act as wife and mother? He wasn’t exactly the most sociable of men. At the beck and call of his patients, he was constantly short-tempered through lack of sleep. He was not wealthy compared to his brothers, although his income from doctoring was adequate. It could be more than adequate if he ignored the plight of the poor and homeless. But how could he leave them to suffer when he compared their lot with the opulence of their masters?
A wife? He grinned at the thought. The woman would have to be a saint to live with him and he didn’t attract saintly women.
He glanced back at the house, solid stone in its parkland setting. Here he’d grown up, the last of six aristocratic sons. His eldest brother had inherited the title of earl. Of the ones in between there was a magistrate, an admiral, a scientist and a former army officer. William Matheson had taken up land in Van Diemen’s Land. He was urging Francis to join him.
The colony needs good doctors, especially those who possess surgical skills, William wrote. I guarantee you would acquire wealth and reputation in no time.
The thought of making a fresh start in a new land was appealing. But Prudence was right. He needed a mother for his daughters first, for he couldn’t practise his profession as well as make sure they were adequately cared for. However, so far he’d had neither the time to spare nor the inclination to woo a woman.
It was late when he reached the manor. Edward Forbes was in his study.
‘What is it, Edward? You don’t look sick to me.’
‘I’m not. It’s Siana Lewis.’
His eyes sharpened. ‘What of her?’
‘She’s in one of the upstairs chambers. Her arm seems to be broken and she has other injuries. She’s in a great deal of pain.’
‘Couldn’t Dr Bede have seen to it?’
‘He’s a pill-pusher, not a surgeon. Besides, he’s a gossip.’
Francis stared at him. ‘What makes you think she needs a surgeon?’
Edward picked up the decanter. He seemed to be avoiding his eyes. The colour left his face as he murmured vaguely, ‘Someone has set about her. There was a child with her. The Lewis girl won’t let her out of her sight.’
‘It must be Daisy.’ Francis’s eyes narrowed. Edward was hiding something. ‘You said someone had set about her. Was it you?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, man,’ Edward said, testily enough for Francis to believe him.
‘How did she end up here?’
‘The mule she was handling took fright. It threw her into the ditch in front of my carriage over by the old cottage on the far border of Croxley Farm. Dangerous animals, mules.’
Francis wasn’t satisfied by the answer. Why hadn’t Edward taken her straight to the infirmary instead of going to the trouble of sending for him?
‘I see. She was driving a cart, you say?’
‘Must I keep repeating myself? It was the mule and cart belonging to Tom Skinner.’
‘Has the man been detained for questioning?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Why didn’t you take the girl to the infirmary?’
Edward shrugged. His reluctance to answer was so evident Francis gave him a warning look.
‘I closed it
to the admittance of further patients. There was danger of an outbreak of an infectious disease.’
‘There’s always danger of an outbreak of something. Who diagnosed this infectious disease?’
When Edward didn’t answer, Francis grunted. ‘I sense you have a personal involvement in this affair, Edward. I’ll want to know what it is after I’ve seen the patient, and I mean to have the truth.’
‘Damn it, Francis. I didn’t mean this to happen. I wouldn’t cause her to be hurt deliberately.’
‘And I’ll make sure you damned well don’t hurt her,’ Francis said curtly. He took a moment to wonder at the anger coursing through him, eventually dismissing it as nothing more than professional compassion.
Siana had been settled in a guest chamber. She lay in the sumptuous four-poster bed, her body swamped by a voluminous nightgown. Her hair was tangled darkly over the pillow. Daisy was asleep, her thumb in her mouth. The child was curled protectively in Siana’s good arm.
He experienced a moment of contentment at seeing them thus. This was a worthy, caring girl, who hadn’t deserved what she’d been through. But what exactly had she been through, besides the breaking of an arm, now crudely splinted and supported on a pillow?
He slid Daisy to one side. Siana gave a distressed whimper when he probed the swollen flesh for the break in the bone. He made an apologetic sound deep in his throat.
When Siana opened her eyes, for a moment there was abject fear in them as she shrank against the pillow. Recognizing the doctor, however, she relaxed and managed a wry smile. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Hell, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for,’ he said. ‘But I need to examine you. Do I have your permission?’
The maid was a sensible-looking woman. He beckoned her forward when Siana nodded. ‘Can you arrange the sheets so the patient’s body can be decently examined?’
When the woman nodded Francis turned aside until she coughed to attract his attention. The gown had been unbuttoned down the front. Of average height, Siana Lewis was long-legged and slender, but her body was firm and shapely. His blood boiled when he saw her skinned knees and elbows and the array of bruises. The maid uncovered Siana little by little, keeping private her feminine part. One of her breasts displayed a bite mark.