“She’s young and very pretty. What I found surprising about her is that despite her upbringing, she is quite spirited and doesn’t just accept her fate. I expect that’s what led to her untimely death. Elise understands the role of women in her time, but she can’t come to terms with the fact that she is nothing more than some man’s property.”
“So, what we have here is the typical story of a young woman being married off to an older man and expected to produce an heir to title and fortune?”
“Not quite. You see, Elise’s husband was impotent, but he needed an heir desperately and that weighed heavily on his mind. He was a wealthy man and needed a son to leave his estate to.”
“What about his daughter? Could she not have inherited or produced a son for Asher to leave his estate to?”
“His daughter was what they called feeble-minded in those days. I suppose she might have been on the autistic spectrum or was severely learning disabled. She had some speech, but it was on a level of a five-year-old. Marrying her off would have been an act of unbelievable cruelty, not that any man in his right mind would want her for a wife, unless his only interest was in her wealth. To be honest, I’m not even sure if Barbara was physically able to bear a child. She was in her late teens when Elise met her, but she looked like a prepubescent girl.”
“So, what happened?” Rhys asked. He leaned forward in his eagerness to hear the story, which Quinn found endearing. He was like a little boy, desperate to learn how the tale ended.
“Asher used his illegitimate son, James, to get Elise with child and then banished James as soon as Elise conceived for fear of them having formed an attachment to one another.”
“And had they?” Rhys asked, a playful twinkle in his eye. He could sense a dramatic twist coming on, and the filmmaker in him was in heaven.
“Elise did warm to him after a time, but there was someone else in the picture. Elise had been in love with a young man called Gavin Talbot who worked for her father.”
“But she married Lord Asher nonetheless.”
“She did, and we have proof of that. But, what I found no trace of was any mention of a child, and we know from Dr. Scott’s analysis that Elise had given birth to at least one child.”
“She might have miscarried late in the pregnancy or given birth to a stillborn. It happened often enough.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s possible since there’s no record of a baptism. I just can’t help wondering if there are, in fact, any living descendants.”
“Perhaps you will see something that will answer that question,” Rhys suggested, watching her with interest. “I do envy you. I wish I could see it all for myself.”
“I’ve made peace with my abilities, but when I was a child I wanted nothing more than to be normal. Seeing the past scared me.”
“Who was the first person you saw?”
“My grandmother Ruth. I loved her, you see, and seeing her fear and suffering during the war scared me to death.”
“Yes, I imagine it would. Can you control what you see?”
“To a degree. I seem to be privy to events that truly shaped the lives of the people I see. Sometimes the events are in sequence, and sometimes I find myself further down the timeline.”
“How marvelous,” Rhys said, shaking his head in wonder. “Will you tell me everything you see? We can create a completely realistic reenactment of Elise’s life, all the way up to her death. The viewers won’t know the story is real, but we will. What do you think?”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea, but how will we explain this sudden knowledge?”
“We don’t need to,” Rhys replied. “What we are selling is a dramatization based on the few facts we do know. We try to connect the dots and fill in the blanks to the best of our ability. And our ability has just increased a hundredfold. What do you say to bringing Elise back to life?”
“I think she would have loved that.”
Chapter 33
June 1665
London, England
Elise was surprised when Edward decided to join her for supper one night in June. She hadn’t laid eyes on him in days, and even then it was only in passing. Any other woman might have thought that her husband kept a mistress at court, but Elise knew better. It wasn’t the women that drew Edward to the palace—it was the men. He enjoyed the liveliness and intrigue of the court, and he seemed to feel most himself when distracted from his own troubling thoughts. Edward didn’t share much with her, but from the little she knew of him, she deduced that Edward Asher was not a happy man.
Despite the ever-present loneliness, Elise preferred her own company to Edward’s and felt more at ease when he stayed away. She didn’t know what brought him home this evening, but she simply asked for another place to be set at the table and waited for him to join her. Edward was tired and ill-tempered, having just returned from the palace. He hadn’t changed out of his finery, but he removed his wig and cleaned his face with a moist towel, wiping away any traces of the powder and rouge favored by some courtiers. It was almost as if Edward had removed a mask, allowing his wife a glimpse of what lay beneath.
“What news?” Elise asked as the first course was served. Elise had long since scaled down the evening meal to two courses, a broth and roasted poultry or baked fish. She didn’t care for meat, and Edward was so rarely at home that it seemed wasteful to keep preparing dishes that no one ate. Once a week, Mistress Oliphant made Elise a sweet of some sort, claiming that if she stopped cooking puddings she might lose her knack for baking. Elise had never been one for sweets in the past, but now that she was pregnant, she found herself craving sugary treats. She also liked tea. Edward introduced it into the household a few months ago, saying it was the fashion at Whitehall Palace, brought from Portugal by Catherine of Braganza. Elise disliked the strange drink at first, but sometimes, especially in the mornings, she found it more palatable than ale, which left a sour taste in her mouth and made her belch. Tea had a bitterness to it, but when taken with a bit of sugar, it was quite refreshing.
Edward frowned as he stared at his bowl of broth. He was accustomed to eating rich, multicourse meals at the palace, and the broth displeased him.
“This is peasant food,” he said scornfully and pushed the bowl aside. “Is there nothing else?”
“There’s some roast fowl with root vegetables.”
“Very well. I’ll have that.” He was surly, but beneath his gruff exterior Elise saw a man who felt frightened and helpless. “The news from the city isn’t good,” Edward said, finally responding to her question. “The death toll is rising. Some measures have been taken by the Lord Mayor, but they are too late. People are leaving London in droves. It took me nearly an hour to get home today. The streets are thronged with wagons and carriages. Many physicians and clergymen have chosen to leave at a time when they are needed most,” he added hotly.
“They fear for their lives,” Elise replied as a feeling of trepidation spread through her. No wonder Edward came home. Dread had replaced the gaiety of the court, and many had already fled the city, desperate to protect themselves and those they loved from a pestilence that struck indiscriminately. The plague didn’t care for wealth or position. It simply killed.
“Should we not consider leaving?” she asked carefully.
“To flee London while His Majesty remains is cowardly and disloyal,” Edward retorted. “I must remain, and so must you.”
Elise couldn’t imagine what difference it made to His Majesty if she were in London or not, but she chose not to argue. She was safe here, or so she wished to believe. The sickness was worst in heavily populated areas, where people came in contact with others and spread the disease. She came in contact with no one but the servants, and so far, everyone had remained healthy since they rarely went out. Elise prayed nightly that they would remain so.
“Has anyone at the palace been taken ill?” she asked as she picked at her food.
Edward didn’t immediately reply, but she could see by
the clenching of his jaw that her question unnerved him. She doubted that anyone of importance had been taken ill, but those from the lower orders were bound to have sickened. Servants, grooms, seamstresses, and cooks went into the city every day as part of their daily duties and came into contact with tradesmen and passersby. It was highly probable that more than a few had been infected.
Edward pushed away his plate with a snort of derision. “This is foul. I don’t know how you eat this slop. Had my mother still been alive, she would have dismissed the cook for such a tasteless offering.”
“Cook made this to my specifications. You rarely dine at home, and I like my food plain,” Elise retorted. Rich sauces and overly spiced dishes gave her an upset, and she cared not what Edward liked since he was never there.
“Tell Lucy to bring me some hippocras. I’ll be in the library.”
“We haven’t got any. You’ll have to do with wine,” Elise replied serenely, not caring overmuch if Edward was displeased. Edward stormed from the room, leaving Elise to finish her meal. Having endured Edward’s bad temper, she reflected that perhaps eating alone wasn’t so bad after all.
Edward spent the night at home, but Elise didn’t see him again. She went to bed at her usual time and read a little before blowing out the candle, but she couldn’t get to sleep. She heard Edward’s snores through the connecting door, but it wasn’t the rumbling that kept her awake. She was frightened. The servants tried to keep the truth from her, but she heard snippets of conversation as she floated through the empty house in search of something to do. Cook was glad that no elaborate meals were expected since she was hesitant to send the servants out to buy supplies. The less exposure everyone had to the outside world the better. The death toll was rising fast, and this promised to be the worst outbreak of plague yet. The warm weather didn’t help matters, and Elise fancied she could smell the sickness in the air when she went out into the garden for her daily walk.
Elise lay on her back and stared up at the darkened canopy. She felt hot and irritable, and her mouth was dry with thirst. Elise kicked off the heavy coverlet and yanked open the bed hangings. She couldn’t open the window for fear of letting in contagion, but laying there in just her nightdress helped. She folded her hands across her belly and tried to think of something pleasant, but nothing came to mind. She felt a strange little flutter deep in her abdomen. It felt like a trapped butterfly beating its wings against her skin. Elise moved her hands over her belly and tried to pinpoint where the flutter was, but it vanished as quickly as it came. A few minutes later, she felt it again. She hoped she wasn’t getting ill. She often felt queasy and bloated, but the feeling usually passed by midday. It rarely happened at night.
Elise rolled onto her belly, but had to turn right back again. She loved sleeping on her stomach, but she no longer felt comfortable. Her belly felt like a small hillock beneath her, and she felt a pressure she couldn’t account for. Elise tossed and turned for what seemed like hours before giving up on sleep. She put on her dressing gown and went downstairs, still barefoot. The floorboards were smooth and cool beneath her feet and she liked the way they felt. The house was silent and dark; everyone was asleep. Elise went down to the parlor and threw open the window. She knew Edward would scold her terribly if he found out, but she just needed a breath of air. She felt so hot and restless.
The cool night air caressed her face as she stood there in the darkness, listening to the silence. Sunrise wasn’t far off, and with it the heat would rise and the stench from the river would overpower the smell of flowers and grass. The river smelled foul at the best of times, but during the summer months the usual smell of rotten fish and sewage was almost unbearable, especially when combined with the stink of sun-warmed heaps of rotten produce and human and animal waste.
Elise was surprised to hear a noise coming from the direction of the kitchen. For one mad moment, she thought it might be James, but then she remembered that he was away in Suffolk, tending to Edward’s estate. At least he was safe there. She shut the window and headed toward the kitchen. Perhaps Cook got up early and would make her some tea. Instead, Elise found Lucy, who was still in her night rail, her bare feet as pale as the linen of the garment. Lucy’s dark hair spilled down her back, and her face was flushed with the heat of her attic bedroom.
“Lucy, what is it?” Elise asked, noting the pail of water in Lucy’s shaking hands. Her eyes were huge with shock as she beheld her mistress, but she instantly looked away, a guilty expression on her face.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Elise said, wondering why Lucy looked so spooked. She didn’t seem to be doing anything wrong. Lucy set the pail down on the table and took a deep breath before finally meeting Elise’s gaze.
“’Tis Janet, me lady. She’s unwell.”
Janet was the youngest maid in the household. She was only twelve, a thin mousy girl who’d come up from Kent to find employment. She was an orphan, and according to Lucy, she considered herself truly blessed to have found work in such a grand house with a kind mistress. Elise felt sorry for the girl but tried not to single her out for fear of setting the other servants against her. Elise did give Janet one of her old gowns since the girl had nothing but the clothes she stood up in. Janet treasured the gown and only wore it to church, seeing as she had no other special occasions in her dreary life.
“What’s wrong with her?” Elise asked. “Is it her time of the month?”
“No, me lady. She’s fevered. I came down to get some cool water to sponge her face and body. Her night rail is soaked with sweat.”
Elise nodded. “Let me know how she is. And Lucy, I’ll dress myself this morning. You just see to Janet.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
Elise watched Lucy walk away, the pail carefully balanced in her hands. She hoped that Janet would improve by tomorrow. If she didn’t, there’d be cause for concern.
Chapter 34
Elise didn’t see Lucy for the rest of the day, but a feeling of dread settled over the house, as if all the inhabitants were holding their breath. Even Cook, who liked to hum a merry tune while she cooked, remained resolutely silent, torn between worry and guilt. Janet had gone out two days prior at her behest. She’d purchased produce and fish for supper and then helped Cook bake several loaves of bread. Everyone in the household had eaten the food that Janet had touched. If she did indeed have the plague, they were all at risk.
“How is she?” Elise asked urgently when she saw Lucy coming down the stairs. Lucy looked exhausted and pale, and her forehead was slick with perspiration.
“She’s still fevered and has terrible chills despite this ungodly heat. Says her bones hurt,” Lucy replied. She strove for calm, but the panic in her eyes was painful to behold. She understood the ramifications of sharing a room with Janet only too well, and she was the only person in the household who would be expected to look after her. “In for a penny, in for a pound,” Cook was heard to say, referring to Lucy’s amount of exposure to the sickness. It was too late to do anything for her now.
“Has Janet eaten anything?” Elise asked, keeping a safe distance from Lucy.
“Just a bit of broth and a cup of ale.”
“Lucy, she needs to be examined,” Elise said. She feared for Lucy, but the girl had already been exposed, so examining Janet would not place her in any greater danger. “Do you know what to look for?”
Lucy nodded. “I’ll just get some more water and a cup of ale for Janet.”
“No. You mustn’t go near the other servants. I will have Will bring up a basin of water and a jug of ale and leave it by the door. Lucy, I’m sorry, but you must be quarantined along with Janet.” Lucy looked aghast but didn’t argue.
“Check Janet over and let Will know when he comes up,” Elise instructed. “And Lucy, don’t worry. I will look after you. You have my word.”
“Not much ye can do for me, is there?” Lucy asked. She sounded wary and defeated. They all knew the odds of surviving the pla
gue.
Elise paced the parlor until Will finally came back down some time later, his face ashen. Elise didn’t need to ask, she saw it all in his eyes, but she faced him across the room and smiled encouragingly.
“Janet has buboes, me lady. ’Tis the plague, as ye feared.”
“Will, please ask everyone to assemble in the yard. I’d like to speak to them. And please wake his lordship. He’ll need to be informed.”
“Aye, me lady.” Will left the room, his shoulders stooped and his gait slow. He was hardly older than Elise, but he seemed to have aged a decade in the past few minutes. Elise shared his fear.
Elise came out into the yard moments later. Nine frightened faces stared at her as she stood there for a moment, organizing her thoughts. “As you all know, Janet has been taken ill with the plague. We are now all at risk. I would ask you all to remain calm in the face of this threat. We must do what we can for Janet and pray that Lucy does not sicken. Janet and Lucy will be quarantined from this moment on. Will, you will bring food and water for washing, but leave them on the floor in front of the room. You are not to go in. No one is. If anyone feels fevered or achy, please let me know. You will be relieved of your duties and asked to stay in your room. Is that clear?”
Nine heads nodded. “Should we not inform the authorities that there’s plague in the house?” Cook asked, her normally rosy face pale with fear.
“Not yet. They will have the house shut up with all of us in it. We will look to our own. You may return to your tasks.”
Elise went back into the house and shut the door to the parlor. She didn’t want the servants to see her fear, but she was terrified. One case was all it took to infect everyone in the house. Janet had touched their food, their bread, and likely their dishes. No one knew how the illness spread, but it stood to reason that anything Janet laid her hands on might have become infected. And Lucy had been in the kitchen getting food and drink for Janet. If she had been stricken, that increased their chances of illness.
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