by Dilly Court
Guthrie moaned and began thrashing about and a bubble of hysteria rose in Lucetta’s throat; if he’d come to moments sooner the snake would almost certainly have struck one of them. She was shaking from head to foot with sheer relief and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
The sound of cracking twigs and muffled footsteps brought her abruptly back to her senses. Had she been missed? Could this be a rescue party? Her hopes were dashed when it was Stranks who stumbled through the bamboo and pandanus fronds followed by two sturdy Balinese men carrying long bamboo poles and a rolled up seagrass mat. While the men constructed a rough stretcher, Stranks produced a rush basket filled with coconuts. Piercing one with the tip of his knife he held it to Guthrie’s parched lips. Some of the cool milk trickled into his mouth although most of it seemed to run down his chin, but it had the desired effect and Guthrie’s eyelids fluttered and opened.
‘That’s the ticket, mate,’ Stranks said. ‘Drink some more.’
Guthrie coughed and spluttered as he slipped back into unconsciousness and Stranks rose to his feet, tossing the coconut into the bushes. Brandishing his knife he moved towards Lucetta and cut her bonds. ‘Don’t try and speak to them,’ he said, jerking his head towards the men. ‘They don’t understand English.’ He took the gag from her mouth and pressed a coconut in her hands. ‘Drink this and we’ll be on our way. Try to escape and I’ll kill you.’
Their progress through the dense rainforest was slow. Stranks tied Lucetta’s hands in front of her and she found herself tied to him with an umbilical cord of liana fastened to his waist. He charged on ahead of the stretcher bearers, slashing at the undergrowth with his knife. Lucetta stumbled in his wake and soon her legs were scratched and bleeding, making every faltering step even more painful. Guthrie’s moans and feverish cries echoed through the forest, startling the macaques and black monkeys as they swung from branch to branch in the leafy canopy overhead. Lizards darted across their feet and to her horror, Stranks almost bumped into a python that hung like a trapeze artist from an overhanging limb of a flame tree. Seemingly more startled than they were, the snake coiled itself up and disappeared into the foliage.
Lucetta almost fell when she twisted her ankle in a hole where some animal had made its burrow. She managed to regain her balance but Stranks stopped and swore at her. ‘You nearly had me over, you silly bitch.’
‘Have a heart,’ Lucetta murmured, clutching her side as a painful stitch almost doubled her up. ‘We can’t go much further. It will be dark soon and we won’t be able to see a thing.’
‘Tell me something I don’t know,’ Stranks hissed.
The stretcher bearers had laid Guthrie gently on the ground and the elder of the two men came scurrying towards Stranks, talking volubly and waving his hands.
‘Can’t understand a word, mate,’ Stranks said, shrugging his shoulders.
Pointing to a tiny patch of sky above them, the man chattered on, shaking his head.
‘I think he’s trying to tell you that it will soon be nightfall,’ Lucetta said, folding her arms across her chest as a shiver ran down her spine. The thought of spending a night in the forest was too terrifying to contemplate. The local men seemed to agree with her as they eyed Stranks warily, shaking their heads. Lucetta found herself wishing that she had learned some of their language instead of expecting Naomi and the other servants to master the English tongue. If only she could make them understand that her father would give them a rich reward for her safe return.
‘Move on,’ Stranks ordered.
The men shook their heads, speaking in unison. ‘Tan.’
It was the one word that Lucetta understood. It was a very definite no.
‘Not tan, you bloody native,’ Stranks roared. He drew a leather pouch from his pocket and tipped some coins into his hand, holding it out to them. ‘Me pay more, savvy?’
‘Don’t speak to them like that,’ Lucetta protested. ‘Do you want them to abandon us in the middle of the jungle?’ Infuriated by his stupidity, she tugged on the liana which joined them together, catching him off balance so that he fell to his knees. His shouts and curses were drowned by the men’s laughter; they seemed to think it was the funniest thing they had ever seen. The older man picked up the coins that Stranks had dropped and threw them at him. Still laughing, they turned on their heels and vanished into the bush.
Stranks rose to his feet, slashing at the liana and freeing Lucetta. ‘This is all your fault. I should slit your throat here and now.’ He raised the knife as if he meant to kill her but a sudden downpour drenched them to the skin in seconds. The shock of the warm rainwater cascading over him stopped Stranks as if he had been turned to stone. He raised his face to the sky and opened his mouth, swallowing the water in noisy gulps. Lucetta followed suit. Never had fresh water tasted so sweet. Momentarily forgetting about her captors, even though her wrists were still bound, she raised her arms above her head and allowed the tropical rain to wash the dust and sweat from her body. Even Guthrie seemed a little quieter as the water cooled his fever and moistened his dry lips.
It was over as suddenly as it had begun. Stranks seized Lucetta by the hair and just when she thought she had breathed her last, he brought the knife down and slit the liana fibres that bound her wrists. He pushed her away from him. ‘You won’t get far, so don’t try to escape.’
She rubbed her chafed flesh, eyeing him warily. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘Not that it’s any business of yours, but I’m going to find a safe place to get some rest. You stay here and look after Guthrie.’ He trudged off, his booted feet squelching in the newly formed mud.
Lucetta’s knees gave way beneath her and she sank down on a dead log. Stranks was right; she wouldn’t get far on her own. She was completely lost and in a very short time the tropical night would wrap itself around them like black velvet. Already she could hear the ‘geck-oh’ night call of the geckos and the continuous croaking of frogs. The undergrowth surrounding them was alive with sound and the foliage above her head rustled with the movement of bats and other nocturnal creatures. Guthrie had quietened considerably and was muttering feverishly as he lay on the now sodden matting.
Her stomach rumbled and she realised that she was extremely hungry. She picked up the sack that Stranks had bought from the Balinese villagers and emptied it onto the ground. Two coconuts rolled onto the forest floor followed by a bunch of finger-sized bananas and a couple of star fruit. Without stopping to think how Stranks might react when he discovered that some of the fruit was missing, she peeled a banana and sank her teeth into the sweet flesh, barely chewing it before swallowing. She ate another and was about to gobble a third when she realised that Guthrie had opened his eyes and was staring at her. She knelt down beside him, breaking off a small piece of banana and holding it to his lips. ‘Try to eat. You need to keep your strength up.’ As obedient as a small child, he opened his mouth and chewed the soft fruit, gulping it down with an effort.
‘Water,’ he croaked. ‘Give me water.’
Lucetta picked up a coconut and tried smashing it against a stone, but the hard shell withstood the shock and it bounced out of her hand. Stranks was the only one who possessed a knife and the milk would have to remain inside the nut until his return. She tore a strip from his shirt, which was still damp enough to moisten his cracked lips. She could not be certain, but she thought he smiled at her as he lapsed into merciful unconsciousness. There was nothing more she could do and she returned to the log, sitting down and wrapping her arms around her knees as the darkness enveloped them.
She thought about her parents. Father would be frantic by now and Mama would be prostrate on her bed with a cold compress on her brow and a vial of hartshorn clutched in her hand. Sir John would be furious and Lady Boothby would say it was only to be expected of a wilful young girl who spent her time idling round the house instead of helping the sick and disadvantaged at the charity hospital. Lucetta made a silent vow to atone for her disobedience, but i
magining her parents’ distress was too painful and even worse, she might die here in the Balinese jungle and never have the chance to say that she was sorry.
She buried her face in her hands, attempting to conjure up the face of Sam Cutler, the man who had stolen her heart and for whom she had risked her reputation, and it would seem, her life. She could not exactly describe his features one by one, although she remembered the way his hazel eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, and the way her heart fluttered at the sound of his voice. He had awakened something within her that threatened to consume her and had made her reckless with the need to see him again. Would he still be searching for the escaped convicts? Or would he and his men have given up and returned to the Caroline? Did he know that she was missing, and if he did, would he come to her rescue?
It was pitch dark now and she could not see Guthrie even though he lay just a few feet from her. The rustling sounds in the undergrowth seemed to be even louder and growing closer minute by minute, and she felt as though they were being watched by unseen predators. The foolhardiness of her escapade sat on her shoulders like a heavy mantle. Her pampered, protected life had not equipped her for survival outside the walls of her comfortable home. She had never had to do anything for herself; there had always been servants at her beck and call, ready to carry out the simplest of tasks. She had never felt so lost or so alone in the world. She even found herself wishing that Stranks would return. He was a villain and a ruffian but at least he was human. Who knew what horrors lurked behind every bush and tree?
Lucetta opened her eyes. She could see a faint glimmer of light filtering through the ghostly grey trunks of the trees and she could hear the sound of men’s voices, the heavy tramp of booted feet, the splitting of cane and the crack of broken twig. It was, of course, just another dream: she had been dozing fitfully all night and then waking with a start as the pain in her cramped limbs became unbearable. Each time she opened her eyes it had been to suffocating darkness, like being stone blind. The noises that she had heard had been the night sounds of the rainforest, punctuated by feverish moans from Guthrie, but this time it was different; the men were speaking English. She pinched herself and it really hurt; she was not dreaming. She was wide awake and help was close at hand. She opened her mouth and tried to call out, but no sound came from her dry throat. For a dreadful moment she thought the rescue party were going to miss them and she reached out with her hands, feeling for a branch or a stone, anything that she could throw to attract their attention. Then her fingers curled around the hard, hairy shell of a coconut and she scrambled to her feet, flinging it with all her might. She heard a soft thud followed by a loud curse and raised voices.
‘Where did that bleeder come from? It hit me square on me head.’
‘It came from over there. Bring the torches, men.’
Dazzled by the sudden bright light of a flaming torch, Lucetta shielded her eyes. She could just make out the dark silhouettes of men breaking through the tangle of banana palms and tree ferns. Someone called her name and her heart leapt against her ribs as she recognised Sam’s voice, but relief quickly turned to humiliation as she realised what a sight she must look. The once beautiful songket clung damply to the natural contours of her body and her hair must be in a terrible mess. She was filthy, exhausted, and she knew that she must smell absolutely terrible.
‘Lucetta! Thank God.’
Recognising her father’s voice, Lucetta leapt up and flung herself into his arms. ‘Oh, Papa, I’m so glad to see you.’
‘Are you all right, Miss Froy?’ Sam asked anxiously.
Tears of relief flooded down Lucetta’s cheeks and she buried her face against her father’s shoulder.
‘My little girl will be all right now, thank you, Cutler.’ Henry wrapped his arms protectively around his daughter’s trembling body. ‘I’ll take her back to the consulate. You’d best set about catching the villains who abducted her.’
It was dawn when they reached the consulate and the stucco was tinged rose pearl by the rising sun. Lucetta was still dazed and disorientated and she was stunned to see her mother and Lady Boothby waiting for them on the veranda. Mama never left her bed this early; it was unheard of. She was even more astonished when her mother ran towards her.
‘Oh, my poor child. What have they done to you?’ Eveline threw her arms around Lucetta but then stepped away, wrinkling her nose. ‘You must have a bath immediately.’
‘She is quite obviously in a state of shock, Eveline,’ Lady Boothby said, eyeing Lucetta critically. ‘I’ve sent for the doctor and I think he should examine her first, if you know what I mean.’
‘Oh, no. You don’t think …’ Eveline paled alarmingly and dropped her hands to her sides.
Lady Boothby nodded emphatically. ‘Virgo intacta, my dear. We must ascertain the truth.’
Lucetta had not paid much attention in Latin classes and she had no idea what virgo intacta meant, but she could tell by the expression on Mama’s face that it must be something quite serious. ‘I’m not hurt, Mama. I’m just tired and dirty and I would love a bath.’
Eveline sank down on the nearest rattan chair, fanning herself vigorously. ‘You must do as you’re told, Lucetta. Henry, please tell her that we know best.’
‘Pa?’ Lucetta turned to her father and was shocked by the fury in his normally gentle brown eyes, and the white lines around his tight lips.
‘Best if you wait, poppet,’ he murmured, giving her a hug. ‘Do as your mama says, there’s a good girl. I have some unfinished business with Sir John.’
Lady Boothby took Lucetta firmly by the shoulders. ‘I’ll look after her. You will find Sir John in his office, Henry.’
With a curt nod of his head, Henry strode purposefully into the house.
‘What did those brutes do to you, my darling?’ Eveline asked faintly. ‘Did they – did they molest you in any way?’
Lady Boothby pressed Lucetta down on a cushioned chair. ‘You must tell us the truth, my dear. We know that they must have been lurking in the grounds just waiting for the chance to abduct you. No one is blaming you, Lucetta, and you mustn’t be afraid to tell us everything, so that those criminals can be brought to justice for their appalling crime.’
Lucetta closed her eyes as the bougainvillea-drenched roof of the veranda began to swim dizzily towards the balustrade. She was faint with hunger, fatigue and emotional exhaustion. ‘Please, I don’t want to talk about it,’ she murmured.
‘I think I’m going to swoon,’ Eveline said, clasping her hand to her forehead. ‘I can’t bear to think what you must have suffered.’
Lady Boothby snatched up a bottle of sal volatile from the table and waved it beneath Eveline’s nose. ‘Get a hold on yourself, woman. Having a fit of the vapours won’t help the situation.’
Eveline coughed and spluttered as the potent fumes had their effect. ‘I’ve suffered terribly but then you wouldn’t understand, Pamela. Only a mother could know what I’ve been going through.’
‘Poppycock! You’re just being hysterical and that’s the last thing the girl needs.’ Lady Boothby turned to a male servant who had been standing mutely by the door. ‘Kadek, go and see if the doctor has arrived, and tell Nyoman to have a warm bath prepared for Miss Lucetta. We will also need salve and lint. Those cuts and scratches will have to be attended to soon or they will suppurate. And fetch Miss Froy’s wrap from her room,’ she added, staring with obvious distaste at the flimsy sarong which left little to the imagination. ‘We can’t have you running about the consulate in that state of undress.’
Kadek bowed and slipped silently into the dark interior of the house.
Lucetta stared down at the tattered songket which had been destined for better things, and she was even more acutely aware of her unsightly appearance. ‘I would like to go to my room, if you please, ma’am.’ She attempted to rise from her chair but was overcome by a bout of dizziness.
‘Stay where you are,’ Lady Boothby ordered in the commanding t
ones of a general addressing his troops. ‘You’re as white as a sheet. Are you in pain?’
Lucetta shook her head. ‘Do you think I could have something to eat and drink, please?’
Lady Boothby stared at her as if she were asking for something outrageous. ‘Not until you’ve been seen by the doctor.’
‘I can’t bear it,’ Eveline cried, shuddering. ‘My poor baby girl. I feel quite faint at the thought.’
‘Hush, Eveline. Don’t frighten the child.’ Lady Boothby angled her head, holding up her hand for quiet. ‘Hush, I hear carriage wheels. It must be the doctor. Lucetta, I’ll help you to your room. Eveline, if you can’t control your emotions, you had best remain here.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Lucetta said, rising unsteadily to her feet. ‘What is going to happen to me, Lady Boothby?’
Chapter Five
If her experiences in the rainforest had been terrifying they vanished into the realm of a bad dream when compared to the shock and embarrassment of the examination by an elderly English doctor, who smelled disturbingly of brandy and stale tobacco. He performed the most intimate of medical procedures without telling her what he was going to do or explaining the reasons why it was considered necessary, leaving Lucetta stunned and on the verge of tears. He washed his hands and pronounced that she was indeed virgo intacta, which seemed to come as a disappointment to Lady Boothby who had stood at the bedside throughout, grim-faced and seemingly ready to pounce on Lucetta and hold her down if she dared to resist the doctor’s probing fingers.
Naomi fluttered into the room after they left and she made sympathetic noises as she helped Lucetta into the hip bath filled with warm, scented water. She bathed her mistress as gently as if she had been a small child, washing her hair and drying it with a towel. Even though they could not communicate verbally, it was quite obvious to Lucetta that the servants were well aware of her ordeal, and Naomi’s gentle doe-eyes were brimming with concern.