by Cathy Bryant
With that, the apothecary was gone—leaving Alexander to wonder how he was going to tell Sarah what was about to happen. He disliked causing her any discomfort, for on feverish skin the tepid water would most likely feel like ice.
A short time later, Martha informed her employer that everything was prepared. “I can see that you are bothered by having to be the one to do this. There is nothing at all wrong with you helping her. Remember, though your marriage has been rather unusual up to now, you are her husband. Besides, she can remain in her nightgown. Once you are through, I can come in and help her into dry clothes.”
“It is just that having a husband that abandoned you for two years helping you with such a personal matter…well…I am not quite certain how she shall feel about it; however, if I had to guess, I would have to say that once she comprehends what is about to happen, she shall not be very happy.”
“I understand, Mr. Swyndhurst, but there isn’t a moment to waste. The water shall be too cold if you wait much longer.” After saying this, the elderly woman turned to leave.
With trepidation, Alexander approached the bed. As he sat down next to Sarah, he cupped her face with his hands. “Sarah, you must listen. The apothecary says that your fever is dangerously high. To bring it down, he desires for you to be placed in a tepid bath.”
With her eyes barely open, she listened. It took the young woman a moment to process what her husband had said. While nodding, she asked, “Where is Martha?”
Feeling bad for his sick wife, he stroked her cheek and said, “Sarah, though you weigh very little, Martha is not strong enough to help you.”
Trying to sit up, she replied, “Very well. I shall try to—” Too weak to continue, she fell back against the bed.
“Sarah, you are too ill to do this on your own. Even if you could get yourself into the tub, which is doubtful, if you fainted you might sink under the water. I know that we have not had the sort of marriage that…well…it is just that I shall be the one assisting you.”
With her eyes wide, she whispered, “Alexander, I really think I—”
Interrupting her, he replied softly, “Sarah, I am going to help you, and that is all there is to it.” He then lifted her into his arms and made his way out of her bedchamber. As they descended the stairs, he observed that she had turned her head away. He was certain that she was so uncomfortable about the whole thing that she couldn’t look him in the eye. Feeling her body trembling, he lifted her higher so that he might rest his chin atop her head. He then whispered, “Everything is going to be all right.”
As her husband carried her through the kitchen, Sarah stared at Martha—as though pleading with her eyes that she save her from this embarrassing situation. Feeling a bit sick at how ill Sarah looked, Martha turned away.
Behind the closed door of the buttery, Alexander sat Sarah on the chair that Martha had positioned near the tub. He then knelt down in front of her and apologized for what he was about to do—for a tepid bath against feverish skin would be much the same as torture. “Sarah, I am going to lift you now and place you in the tub. Even though the water is slightly warm, it is going to feel extremely cold to you.”
Relieved that she would be clothed, she replied, “Very well. I am ready.”
After lifting her, he turned toward the tub. He then lowered her into the water. Once she was settled, she rested her head atop her bent knees. Her teeth soon began to chatter. Though he disliked having to do it, Alexander lifted a cup filled with the tepid water and poured it over her head and down her back. With her gown clinging to her skin, he observed just how thin she truly was. He could count every rib. Then, whispering so Sarah wouldn’t hear, he prayed, “Lord, what am I to do? I cannot allow her to go on any longer looking after everyone but herself.”
Thinking she heard him speak, Sarah inquired, “Did you say something, Alexander? I couldn’t quite hear you.”
“No…no. It is just that I know you want this over as soon as possible. We have to carry on for a few more minutes.” He was relieved she hadn’t actually heard his prayer. As stubborn as she had been about continuing on with her life as usual, despite Martha’s objections, he believed she would be angry to know that he had no intention of allowing her to keep on as she had been—working herself ragged. With misery for causing her discomfort, he continued to pour the water. As her shivering became uncontrollable, he stopped pouring for a moment. He then came around to where he could see her face. “Are you all right?”
With much effort, she lifted her head and asked, “How much longer?”
“Just a bit longer, and then I shall lift you out of there.” Feeling her brow, he nodded with satisfaction at the difference the bath had already made. He was certain her fever had dissipated some.
A few minutes later, as promised, Alexander lifted Sarah out of the water and onto her feet, at which point her knees buckled and she began to fall. The shivering had taken her last bit of energy. Alexander quickly reached out to catch her. He then set her down upon the chair. Calling for Martha, Alexander continued to steady Sarah by stooping beside her and wrapping his strong arms around her.
As Martha opened the door, her employer directed her to grab a drying cloth. Now, toweling in hand, the elderly servant approached Sarah. Alexander kept hold of his wife’s shoulders while Martha dried her face, after which she began patting the young woman’s hair with the cloth. When Alexander felt certain that Sarah could keep her balance, leaving the women to themselves, he turned and left the room. As he waited on the other side of the door for Martha to call once she had finished helping Sarah into dry clothes, he listened. If Martha needed his assistance, he wanted to be prepared to act quickly.
Before long, the ladies had accomplished the task of removing the wet garment and replacing it with a dry one. Then Martha called to Sarah’s husband, whom she was certain had not ventured very far from the buttery. Upon entering, seeing Sarah offering him a weak smile, Alexander sighed at the realization he had been successful at assisting his wife without causing her too much embarrassment. After placing a kiss on the top of her head, he lifted her.
As the relieved husband made his way back through the kitchen, he observed Martha following along behind him, nodding and smiling. It was obvious to him that his elderly servant had also observed that Sarah’s fever had come down.
As they made their way up the stairs, the husband and wife each realized that their first time in each other’s company, for any length of time, had been rather unusual. Once they were again in Sarah’s bedchamber, Alexander placed her back on her bed. After covering her, he sat beside her until she fell asleep, which, as exhausted as she was, didn’t take very long.
That night, Alexander stayed with Sarah, never leaving her side. Though he knew she would be uncomfortable having him on the other side of her bed, he felt he had no choice. He needed to stay close to look after her. When morning came, Sarah’s fever had returned—possibly even higher than it had been the day before. Alexander began the process with the tepid bath all over again. As before, he felt terrible for having to bring his wife so much discomfort.
Before long, Sarah—bath completed—was doing a bit better. As the relieved husband carried her back through the kitchen, he informed Martha that, as his bedcoverings were fresh, he would be bringing Sarah to his bedchamber. Martha stated that while Sarah was out of her room she would take the opportunity to launder her bedding.
Though Sarah wanted to protest the arrangement, she was too weak to argue. As the couple mounted the stairs, Alexander reassured Sarah that the only reason he was taking her to his bedchamber was so she could rest comfortably. While keeping his eyes focused on the stairs, he informed her that, owing to her fever, she had soaked her own bed linens. But then, as he glanced down at his wife, he observed that her eyes had closed. His explanation would have to wait.
By the time Alexander had placed Sarah on his bed, she had fallen into a deep sleep. The tepid baths, though they had been necessary, were takin
g a lot out of her. Shivering for nearly half an hour had burned up what little energy she had. In addition, she hadn’t been well enough to take any nourishment since she had come down with the illness, which only added to her weakened state.
By early afternoon, Sarah finally woke. As she looked around, she realized she was not in her own bedchamber. She soon remembered a conversation between Martha and her husband where he mentioned something about bringing her to his room. Glancing about, she observed Alexander resting in a chair. To her, he appeared completely done in. She surmised that he had been taking care of her the entire time she had been ill, and with little sleep. All at once, she remembered a bath—or was it two? As she thought about it, her cheeks flushed. She then recalled that it had all been accomplished with her clothed in her nightgown. She was grateful at least for that.
As she watched her husband sleeping, she wondered again why he had come home from England and how long might he stay. Ever since the incident with Matthew Raymond, which had occurred while she was living in Cambridge, she had felt ill at ease in the company of men. As it stood now, she had no choice but to be in close proximity to her husband, considering that he had been the one to look after her. As her gaze settled on him once more, she noticed his eyes flutter and then open.
Once he came fully awake, he realized that Sarah was looking his way. He hastily rose from his chair and approached the bed. “Sarah, how are you feeling? Let me touch your brow.” Reaching for her, he placed his hand upon her forehead and smiled. “No fever—that I can detect, at any rate.”
“Alexander, why are we in your bedchamber?” she asked shyly. “I remember a conversation between you and Martha, but I cannot recall—”
To set her mind at ease, Alexander broke in with the explanation he had attempted to offer before his wife had fallen asleep. “Your bed linens were soiled from the fever. They were, in fact, completely drenched. I thought you would rest more comfortably in a fresh bed.”
“Oh…I see. You look as if you might drop. I think you should be the one in this bed, not me.”
“If you are feeling better, per the apothecary’s orders, we might get some food and drink in you. I shall let Martha know you are awake and that she should send up something for you.”
Sarah really didn’t believe she could eat a thing, but she decided not to say as much—not after Alexander had been so kind.
That afternoon, Alexander did his best to get a bit of soft food and some fluids into Sarah. By evening, she was looking much better. The apothecary-surgeon had been to call—leaving orders for her to continue resting. Given that she had already been in a weakened state long before she had come down with this most recent illness, he recommended a month.
Sarah had heard what the gentleman had said; nevertheless, she had instantly reasoned aloud that a month was not at all necessary. Little Mary needed her, as did the others.
Martha had overheard the young woman whispering to herself, so she listened carefully. She later told her employer what Sarah had muttered under her breath when the apothecary had left orders for her confinement. Mr. Swyndhurst simply shook his head and stated that he was a lot bigger than his wife, and if she believed she could simply get out of bed and go to Alice’s, she would soon learn differently.
When Alexander was ready to turn in for the night, he went up to his room. Upon entering, he observed Sarah standing by the door—ready to take leave of his bedchamber. He then asked, “Sarah, is there something you need?”
“No…I…ah…well, I thought I would go back to my own bedchamber. I am certain Martha has seen to the bed linens by now.”
Taking her by the arm, he gently turned her around and back toward the bed; however, before they had taken a step, he noticed that she had recoiled at his touch. Thinking she was simply angry with him for preventing her from leaving, he said, “Sarah, it is my desire that you remain in here where I can continue looking after you. You are not yet well.” And you would likely slip out early and head off to the Strouts’ unless I keep watch over you, he thought.
Glancing back over her shoulder toward the door, wishing she might escape, Sarah replied, “I believe I am much better now. There is no need for you to lose more sleep over me. I shall just go back to my own room now.”
Shaking his head to indicate the answer was no, he explained again. “I know you are feeling much better, but you are not quite yourself. Moreover, you have only been free of a fever for a few hours. If it returned in the night, with you in your own bedchamber, I would have no way of knowing. If you are concerned about having a man in with you, you needn’t be. I shan’t bother you. Though it has only been a couple of days, I simply have grown accustomed to having you in here with me, where I can see to your needs.”
At this point, her stomach was in knots. Hoping this would all soon be over and things could go back to the way they were before her husband arrived—as she made her way back over to the bed—she inquired, “Alexander, when are you planning to return to England?”
To this, he smiled to himself. I suspect she desires to be rid of me so she might go on doing whatever she wishes—most likely working herself to death. “Well, that is something I had hoped to discuss with you. You see, Sarah, I have no plans to return to England. In fact, it is my hope that, in time, our marriage will become more conventional.”
Eyes wide, and almost breathless, she asked, “Are you saying that you plan on living here?”
“Well, yes. This is my home, is it not?” He sensed that he had thrown her into a panic. “Sarah, I know our agreement was for me to live in England and you were to live here with only the servants, but I no longer wish to be parted from you.”
Feeling herself tremble, Sarah glanced at the door. This was not what we had agreed to. What am I to do now?
“Sarah, please do not worry about this. I am not going to force a conventional marriage on you before you are ready. What is more, I know you may never be.”
Daring a look in his direction, she studied his face. “What if I never wish to have that sort of marriage?” And I am certain I shall not. “I had not planned on things changing between us. Father said—”
As he observed her, he realized that, as Martha had advised, he should have waited to tell her. He should have allowed her to first become accustomed to having him around and getting better acquainted. “Sarah, I know this is all very sudden and you are not yet strong enough to process everything I have said, but I hope you will consider allowing me to be a part of your life.”
Emotionally as well as physically drained, Sarah hung her head. “Alexander, it isn’t that I do not wish for you to stay in Amesbury. It is just that—”
Breaking in, he responded, “I know, Sarah, the idea of having me here scares you. Please do not fret. As I said, I am not going to rush you. The only thing I insist upon is that you remain in my bedchamber. As I have already explained, I have grown accustomed to having you here. I shan’t bother you. We shall simply share this room. Whenever you wish to dress for the day or ready yourself for bed, I shall wait on the other side of the door. Does that meet with your approval?”
Sarah was never one to outright argue or insist on getting her own way, other than when Martha tried to rein her in; consequently, she acquiesced. Secretly, however, all she wanted to do, just now, was run out of the room and back to her own bedchamber where she felt safe. After climbing back under the covers, she turned toward the door—away from the other side of the bed, where she was sure Alexander would very soon be.
Alexander felt terrible he had disclosed his plans to Sarah, but he was helpless as to what to do about it now. Glancing over at his wife with the covers tucked up tightly around her neck, he knew that she was terrified at the prospect of remaining in his bedchamber, especially now that she knew he wanted a more conventional marriage and to remain in Amesbury with her.
As he climbed in under the covers on his own side of the bed, he debated whether to say anything else to his young wife. After a few m
oments of quiet, he decided to ask, “Sarah, are you feeling all right? Is there anything you need?”
“No…no. I am fine,” she said in barely a whisper.
“I am sorry that this has all been so alarming to you,” he said sincerely. “I truly shall wait as long as it takes. Please, do not feel rushed into anything.”
Sarah wondered, at that moment, why he didn’t understand that sleeping next to a man, for her, was rushing things—even if he was her husband—the husband she had not planned on living with—ever!
Morning came, and none too soon for Sarah. She had been wide awake most of the night thinking about the change in her situation with Alexander. She had also been reflecting on what had recently occurred with Matthew Raymond, wondering if he had been following her that night when she had seen him standing in the shadows. Suddenly, she heard Alexander yawn behind her. She dared not look over her shoulder.
As Alexander started to rise, he inquired, “Sarah, are you awake?” He thought he had felt her move. Hearing her answer softly in the affirmative, he informed, “I thought I would ask Martha to send up something for you to eat. It would be good for you to remain in bed a few more days. After that you may be strong enough to recline in the parlor, for part of the day anyway. The apothecary does not want you doing too much just yet.”
Relieved that he would be out of the room for a few minutes, Sarah answered, “Very well, Alexander. I believe I shall go to my bedchamber to wash and change my clothes.”
“If you wish, I shall have Esther bring whatever you need to this room. As I will be downstairs for a while, you shall have more than enough time to wash and change into a fresh nightgown.”
“It really is no bother for me to go. I do not wish to trouble Esther. She already has so much to do.”
Sighing, he came around to where he could speak to her face to face. “Very well, Sarah. You must try and remember, however, that it is Esther’s job to tend to your needs. I know very well that you dislike having others do for you, but you are ill, after all.”