She looked up at him, unsure whether it was worth the effort to attempt to make him see why she was here.
"Thomas," she said, "I am not here to cause a rift between His Lordship and his wife. That would be impossible, even should that be my intention. I know that he is deeply in love with her and she with him and that gives me joy. If you and the other servants cannot accept that, there is nothing I can do about it, but rest assured there has been nothing between us for many years. I am here as a friend to them both, nothing more."
She turned and carried on walking, leaving him to hurry after her.
"There is no need for you to see me off the premises, Thomas," she told him. "I only stayed long enough to be sure Her Ladyship is recovering."
"She is?" He asked eagerly.
She had told none of the servants what she knew; they did not deserve it.
"I would not have left otherwise," she replied. "And the child has been born."
He looked at her eagerly, and she realised she had not stayed to find out if it was a son or daughter.
"You had best go and find out, Thomas," she told him. "I was so relieved to hear Her Ladyship was a little stronger, I forgot to ask."
She watched him hesitate for a moment, then turn and run back to the house in his haste to learn the news, to confirm that his lady was recovering, and she understood completely his hostility. He adored Bethany, just as Louisa and Lucy adored Rachel, and he would defend her against anything.
***
Rachel had been home about an hour before Lucy arrived to tell her the latest news on Lady Summerville's condition. Louisa came in from the kitchens to hear as well, for which Rachel was grateful. She sometimes wondered if she did not bear an unreasonable resentment toward Richard's wife, simply for being his wife. Rachel accepted that any hostility she received was of her own making, came with the tale she had allowed to be told about her position in Richard’s life.
She stood up and walked toward Lucy as soon as she came in.
"How is she?" She asked at once. "And the child?"
"The child seems well enough, considering he was early and is very small."
"It is another son, then?"
"Yes, My Lady," Lucy replied. "The doctor thinks he will survive, so long as he is kept warm."
"And Her Ladyship? She continues to improve?"
Lucy shook her head, an embarrassed flush spreading over her face.
"She never was improving, My Lady," she replied angrily.
"But the midwife said she was growing stronger, else I would never have left."
Lucy and Louisa were the two people who would always speak their minds to her, Lucy more so than Louisa. She had stuck by Rachel through all kinds of trauma and hardship and she knew her better than anyone, knew she would always rather have the truth than a kind but useless lie. Their eyes met for a few moments before Lucy spoke.
"The woman lied, My Lady," she said at last. "She surmised that His Lordship was only waiting for better news in order to return to his wife, in order for you to leave. So, even though it was not her place, she lied."
Louisa gave a loud exclamation, almost a cry, and her fists clenched angrily.
"How dare she?" She declared. "How dare she think she can treat Lady Rachel like that?"
"It is all right, Louisa," Rachel said, grasping her wrist. "But Richard should not have been lied to, not about something so important."
"He was furious, My Lady," Lucy replied. "I thought he was going to hit her. I have never seen him angry like that."
"Poor Richard," she murmured. "As if he does not have enough to contend with. I should not have been there, then it would never have happened."
"He wanted you there," Louisa said harshly. "Stop blaming yourself."
"But Lady Summerville," she asked, "she is not worse, is she?"
"She is not good, My Lady," Lucy replied sadly. "She drifts in and out of consciousness. She is delirious as well; keeps calling for His Lordship when he is sitting right beside her. She keeps saying strange things."
"What sort of things?"
"Oh, calling out that she does not know how to light a fire, that she has never cooked anything; saying that she will take her own life before she allows herself to die by his hand."
She paused and her eyes met Rachel’s dark ones. Curiosity was clear in her expression and Rachel knew she was looking for an explanation, looking to see whether her mistress knew what might be troubling Bethany. Rachel made no reply.
"I must go, My Lady," she said at last. "I promised His Lordship I would return. I wanted to tell you about the wet nurse."
"Wet nurse?"
"Yes. Her Ladyship will not be able to feed this mite herself."
"And you have found somebody?"
Lucy took a deep breath before she answered hesitantly.
"She was turned out of her position and walked all the way here from Norwich, with her babe in arms, where no one knew her, in the hope of finding work. She will be glad of the money and a place to stay."
"Where was she before?"
"She was staying in one of the barns in the village," she answered. "I wanted to give her room in the cottage, but Fred would have none of it. Said it would give us all a bad name. We had a bit of a row about it, to tell you the truth. From what the woman tells me, it seems she was not a willing partner to the seeding of the babe."
Rachel could only stare at her for a moment, knowing full well her meaning and wishing she did not. It was the most unfair thing that a man could have his way with an unwilling woman, then walk away and leave her to the condemnation of all she encountered. And she would be blamed no matter what, for tempting him.
"Do we know anything about this man?" She asked after some thought.
"I think so, My Lady," Lucy replied. "She says it was His Lordship's cousin."
"Anthony?"
"Yes, My Lady."
***
Rachel waited in vain for news. It seemed that people had decided to tell Louisa nothing as they knew on whose behalf she asked, and Lucy had been too busy tending to Her Ladyship to visit. For some reason, Bethany had taken a fancy to her, said Lucy was the only one she trusted and she had insisted on her being at the birth. She was also the only person Richard would trust, since the midwife lied to him. It was easier for him to have someone in attendance who knew the truth of the situation, who did not believe his wife was dying while his mistress hovered about, waiting to take her place.
The sound of his horse's hooves approaching the house sent Rachel’s emotions into a terrifying mix. Was he coming to her for comfort, because Bethany was worse? No, he would not leave her if she were worse, so she must be dead. Or was he coming, pray God, with news that she had recovered? She was not sure she wanted to know.
He passed his horse's reins to a stable boy who ran forward to meet him, then strode into the house without waiting for her to open the door for him. Louisa came out of the kitchen with ale, and hovered around outside the door when she had given it to him, waiting to hear what he had to say.
"I cannot stay for long," he began at once. "She is sleeping, but I do not like to leave her. She keeps calling for me and I cannot make her understand that I am there."
"Is there no improvement?"
He shook his head, his expression bleak.
"It seems not," he replied with a catch in his throat. "She has lost a lot of blood already and it does not seem that the bleeding is about to stop. She is growing weaker all the time and I just cannot see how she can survive this." He stopped talking when it was apparent that the ache in his throat was too much to swallow. Rachel said nothing, just left him to regain his composure. "I came to thank you for being there when I needed you. I know it was difficult, I know the servants did not make things easy for you."
"That is what I am here for, Richard," she replied clasping his hand. "You know I will do anything for you. You have only to ask."
"There is something," he said. "Do you have any idea where An
thony might be?"
"I do not. I am not sure I would tell you if I did."
His eyes blazed angrily and she was unsure whether his anger was directed at her or his cousin or both.
"He will not be allowed to just walk away from this, Rachel," he said angrily. "You know that. I need to start men off on his trail and as soon as Bethany has recovered I will find him." She tried to hide her doubt, but he saw it. "And if she does not recover," he went on, "I shall find the most painful means at my disposal to get rid of him."
"I wish I knew, Richard, really I do. He said he had been in France, and in Scotland. There is a conspiracy to put the Scottish Queen on the English throne."
He narrowed his eyes as he looked at her.
"As soon as I can find him, I will need to go to court, to inform Queen Elizabeth's advisors. If I do nothing, I could be included in the arrests. He is a Summerville, after all."
"But you have done nothing."
"I have already been pardoned of the crime of treason, Rachel. If Elizabeth has any sense she will not hesitate to suspect me along with my cousin and believe me, if there is one thing that lady has it is sense. She may be a Protestant bastard, but she is far more deserving of the crown than that silly, empty headed Scotswoman."
They sat in silence for a few moments while she watched his anxious face as he sipped the ale.
"Is there anything I can do, Richard?" She asked him slowly.
"Just be here," he replied. "You will stay?"
"I will stay as long as you need me, you know that. I would like to see Bethany myself, but she will probably be more distressed by my appearance."
He looked at her doubtfully before he spoke.
"I think it would be unwise. She is delirious, ranting about the cottage, and I finally realise what I did, how afraid she was."
"I know," she interrupted. "Lucy told me."
"You did not tell her what she was talking about?"
"Of course not. What do you take me for?"
"Forgive me. You tell her and Louisa everything, so I had to ask."
"Well, there is no need to concern yourself. You have kept my secrets for me; those are your secrets and I will keep them for you."
"Why did it take Bethany dying for me to realise fully just what I did to her? Why did I not listen to you at the time?"
"Hush. It is all in the past. You forgave each other and Bethany is not dying. She is very ill and you had best return to her; nothing will aid her recovery like seeing you there beside her when she wakes."
She had forgotten Louisa was listening to every word and now she had two curious women to ward off. It was the following day when Lucy reappeared.
"My Lady," she said at once. "You are needed at the Hall."
Her heart sank. There could surely be only one reason he would send for her.
"Bethany?"
"She is lucid again, My Lady," Lucy assured me. "She is very weak, but the bleeding has stopped and she is no longer delirious. She is asking for you."
"For me? Are you sure it is not His Lordship who wants me there?"
"No, My Lady, it was Lady Summerville who asked me to fetch you. I am not even sure if His Lordship knows what it is all about, but whatever she wants, he will provide."
"But do you have no idea what she wants with me?"
"No, My Lady," she replied, shaking her head, "but before you go there is something I want to tell you. It is about the man who raped Caroline, the wet nurse."
Rachel looked at her curiously.
"It seems it was definitely Mr Anthony. She was working as a maid in his house in Norwich."
Rachel was not shocked, not after the way he had assaulted her in her own house. The way he was behaving he obviously supposed that a poor serving girl was his for the taking. What on earth had happened to him that he was behaving like this? Certainly Richard never raised him to be a bully and a rapist.
"So her baby is a Summerville," she murmured thoughtfully. "Is that why she came here?"
"She says not, but it seems too much of a coincidence to me. Do you want to talk to her?"
"Not yet, Lucy," she answered carefully. "And please, we must keep this from His Lordship for the time being. He will help her, she can be sure of that, but he has enough to worry about right now."
"Yes, My Lady. Should I tell Lady Summerville you will be there this afternoon?"
Rachel nodded, still unsure of her welcome when she got there. Had she overheard her conversation with Louisa in the orphan home?
She was greeted by the usual hostile glares when she arrived, despite Richard escorting her to his wife's chamber. She wondered what they actually thought was happening. Did they imagine Her Ladyship was being cajoled by her husband into accepting his mistress as a companion? If so, then why did they not resent him as well?
Bethany was so white Rachel could barely distinguish her from the pillow on which she lay. She turned back to Richard, clutching his hand as he turned to go.
"What does she want?" She whispered.
She was frightened Bethany was going to challenge the truth about Rachel’s relationship with Richard. Could it be she had listened to gossip and thought she had been made a fool of? She was ill, had been delirious, her mind dragging her back to a time when she believed her husband had left her for the arms of another woman.
"I have no idea," he replied. "But she asked specially to see you. She would not tell me why, and I will not distress her by arguing about it."
He left her then and she slowly approached the bed, half hoping the patient would not wake and she could use that as an excuse to leave. She knew why she was so afraid to face her; she feared she might make her condition worse by simply being there.
Rachel sat on the bed and took her hand. After a few seconds her eyes fluttered open and she gave a wan smile.
"You wanted to see me?"
"Are we alone?" She asked. "Richard is not listening, is he?"
Rachel turned to the door to make sure it was firmly closed, then back to look at this pale beauty before her.
"No, he is not listening," she assured her. "Are you feeling stronger, My Lady?"
"A little. I wanted to thank you; without your help we would not have found my son."
"I did no more than anyone would."
"Anyone except Anthony," she said angrily. "Try to stop Richard from doing something he will regret."
"Of course, if I can. Is that what you wanted to ask me?"
"No. Nothing will stop him, I know that as well as you do. What I wanted to ask you is far simpler." She paused, as though every breath was an extreme effort. "If I do not survive," she went on, "I want to know you will be there for him."
Rachel was so relieved she almost hugged her.
"Bethany," she climbed up on to the bed and put her arm around her. "You have no need to ask that. You know I will care for him."
"I know you are in love with him," she said.
"You heard?"
She nodded silently.
"I knew already. A woman does not risk her life for a man she does not love, especially when the sacrifice is to preserve that man's wife. I also know there was nothing physical between you, but that was your choice not his. That is what hurts the most, what makes me feel betrayed sometimes."
"You must never feel like that. He loves you, not me. He always has."
"He loves you too," she insisted. "If things were different, he might do more than love you as a friend. I cannot forget that, no matter how hard I try."
"That might have been true once, but not now. Not since he met you."
Rachel paused and thought carefully before she went on. She was afraid to say too much and give her too much to think about when she was so weak.
"You know," she said carefully, "all that time when he lived with me at court, he was never short of offers. There were many beautiful women waiting in warm beds for him, but he always declined their invitations. He would have none of them."
Bethany hel
d tight to Rachel’s hand, as though to release it would drop her into an abyss, and she was trembling, afraid.
"If I do not survive," she went on, "there is but one person in the world I can trust with his happiness, and that is you. Everyone sees the man he wants them to see, strong, in control, generous to the deserving, ruthless to the undeserving. Nobody but you and I know the real Richard."
Rachel held her close, her head on the satin covered breast, and felt her quiet tears soaking into her bodice. She felt sure she did not weep for herself, but for Richard, for her children.
"You know I will always care for Richard, no matter what. He gave me a life, he rescued me and I shall always be grateful. And that gratitude will extend to those he cares for." She paused and found herself touching her lips to Bethany’s forehead. "But you must survive or he will not. You have three children who need you too, another little son. What have you named him?"
"Alex," she replied. "He is weak, I know, but no one wants to admit it to me. Were I not so adept at eavesdropping, I would believe all they tell me. If I should survive, there will be no more children." She was quiet for a little while as Rachel held her, not really knowing what to say. "It seems we have more in common now than the one man we both love; I too am damaged. The physician says I shall not conceive again."
"Oh, Bethany. I am so sorry."
"The Lord has blessed me with the three babes I have and I can still love; at least I pray so. I am more fortunate than you and at least I was wounded bringing another Summerville into the world, not in the horrendous way you were." She was quiet and thoughtful for a few moments, perhaps wondering if she had said too much. Then she went on in a wistful tone: "I have not even had a chance to hold him."
"Would you like to?"
Bethany nodded and Rachel got up, puffed up the pillows and helped her to sit up. Then she lifted the baby from his cradle and laid him in her arms. She was rewarded by a happy smile as the mother looked down at the sleeping infant, while Rachel stood nearby waiting to take him from her if she grew weary.
There was a gentle knock and the door opened a crack.
HOLY POISON: Boxed Set: The Complete Series 1-6 Page 84