by Tania Crosse
‘There’s just a drop of cream left to put in it,’ the kind woman said. ‘I could really do with some more, mind.’
Rose’s face lit up. ‘I’ll send Ned.’ And then, armed with the coffee and the bacon, she stepped out into the spring sunshine.
Ned was crossing the stable yard, whistling tunelessly, his hands in his pockets, believing his morning’s work was over.
‘Ned!’ Rose called, and he came over, ever hoping – though in vain – that his luck might be in with her. Still, this was a good job, and he was in no hurry to lose it! ‘Did you have any trouble with Gospel?’
‘No,’ he answered, taken aback. ‘Good as gold he were this morning. He and Merlin are romping round the field like a couple o’ rabbits now!’
The smile that shone from Rose’s face shimmered in her eyes – as she had meant it to. ‘Good! Now, be an angel and walk over to Tor Royal for some cream, would you, please, Ned? Ask the dairymaid to put it on our account.’
Ned went to scowl, but then remembered that the dairymaid was a pretty wench, not slight as a cowslip like Miss Rose normally was, but a homely, buxom sort, and he was not averse to that! ‘But what ’bout this yere convict? Maister said I’m to protect all yer women folk.’
‘Oh, get away with you, Ned Cornish! He’s hardly likely to come here, is he? And I promise I won’t tell the master if you won’t.’
Ned seemed to consider for a moment, a moment in which Rose felt her nerves jangle on a knife-edge, and then he was pulling on his worn jacket and striding away with a noticeable skip in his jaunty gait.
Rose was in the loose box within seconds. The door had been left open so that the dogs could roam in and out, and clean straw had been shaken out over the floor. Scraggles was scampering about at Rose’s feet, but as she came round the corner, Amber hardly lifted her head from the basket, which hadn’t been moved.
‘Seth, ’tis all right,’ Rose whispered as she stepped around the dog’s bed. ‘You can come out now.’
She waited as Seth moved slowly and stiffly, cautiously pushing his head up through the straw and brushing it from his face. ‘Are you sure?’ he croaked.
‘Yes. My husband’s gone out and I’ve sent Ned on an errand, and Cook and the maid and the laundry woman are all busy in the house. And ’tis not one of the gardener’s days, so we’re quite safe.’ She paused for breath, realizing her tongue was careering as fast as her racing mind. ‘But we’ve no time to lose. Sit up and drink this, and I’ll fetch the things to take the shot out of your shoulder. And here’s some bacon. ’Tis cold, I’m afraid, but ’twas the best I could do.’
He glanced up at her, his forehead pleated with anxiety as he shifted position. A tormented wince escaped his lips as he leaned back against the wall, and Rose’s heart squeezed with sympathy.
‘Thank you, ma’am,’ he said, but as he took the cup from her, she saw that his hands were trembling and his face was shadowed with agony. He took a gulp of the coffee, then dropped his head back, his eyes closed. ‘Oh, that tastes good.’ He seemed to savour the moment for several seconds before looking up at her again. ‘God, I’ve never been so terrified in all my life as when those guards came in. I really thought they’d find me. You were wonderful! And then when your Ned was mucking out, well, he only needed to be a little more thorough. I hardly dared to breathe.’
‘Well, you’re safe for a while now,’ she assured him. ‘You get that down you, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.’
‘You know . . . you don’t have to do this. I’d fully understand if—’
His voice cracked with emotion, and Rose felt her heart tear. ‘But I want to,’ she answered simply, and as she spoke the words, she knew it was the truth.
It only took her a few minutes to collect up all she needed and hurry back to the stables. The yard, as expected, was deserted, but she shut the lower section of the door so that if anyone should happen to cross the yard they wouldn’t be able to see in unless they deliberately peered into the loose box.
‘Seth, you’ll need to come round the corner into the light,’ she told him as she set the bowl on the floor.
She heard him draw in a shaking breath, and then he was dragging himself across to her. As he emerged from the shadows, she saw his teeth were fiercely gritted, and his face, which she could see now was strikingly handsome despite the convict crop, was ravaged with pain.
Rose frowned deeply. ‘Is it worse, your ankle, I mean?’
He nodded, looking up at her beseechingly. His eyes were large and expressive, a soft hazel with darker flecks near the edges which merged into a brown outer rim. They seemed to reach into her, touching some depth in her soul that had lain undisturbed all her life and which now burgeoned and blossomed in an instant. A warm tide flowed into her, calming and yet tingling with excitement. She turned away, driving the sensation from her mind, recognizing the same intense feeling she had experienced by the quarry tunnel, confused and bewildered . . .
‘Turn your back to the light.’
Her voice was so small, quavering, as she watched him struggle out of her father’s clothes. When he got down to the shirt, it had stuck to the oozing wounds and she helped him ease it away, forgetting the strange, unwanted emotions that had gripped her as the overriding sense of sympathy engulfed her again. His shoulders were strongly muscled, but he was so thin his ribs showed beneath his skin. Half-starved and expected to work like dogs, she’d heard Jacob Cartwright complain in the privacy of his own home. Now she could see for herself exactly what he meant.
‘Hold very still,’ she ordered as she took from her pocket the tweezers she had carefully washed and wrapped in a clean handkerchief. ‘I’ll try not to hurt you.’
‘Are you sure we’re safe?’
‘As sure as I can be.’
‘If we’re caught, I’ve frightened you into helping me. Understand?’
She paused, tweezers poised. Even now, he was thinking of her rather than himself. ‘Yes,’ she muttered, steeling herself as she laid the tweezers against the first small hole. ‘Ready?’ she whispered.
He nodded, and she saw him tense rigidly. Her own mouth knotted as she worked the tweezers into his flesh, and he arched his back, choking on a stifled gasp. Rose’s hand was quivering and she bit down hard on her lip as fresh blood trickled down from the wound. Extricating the small ball of lead shot was not an easy task and it took her three attempts before she finally pulled it out. Blood was flowing freely down Seth’s back, but she wet a piece of the bandaging left from the previous evening and twisted a corner of it into a probe to clean out the wound. She knew there was danger of infection from any dirt or fragments of material the shot had taken with it, infection that could kill the strongest man, as could either gangrene or something called lockjaw that often developed in puncture wounds. Both were invariably fatal. And though she felt sick at the torture she was causing him, she knew it had to be done, though even so there was no guarantee.
‘There,’ she announced encouragingly as she finally pressed a fresh cloth over the wound to staunch the bleeding. ‘One down and only five to go.’ Five more. Oh, dear Lord, she didn’t know if she could do this! But she had to. There was no alternative. ‘Thank goodness some of them missed you,’ she murmured hoarsely.
Seth hung his head, snatched breaths shuddering in and out of his lungs. ‘And thank God I was almost out of range, or they’d have gone in deeper. And if the guards were armed with the new Martini-Henry rifles instead of those converted Sniders, I’d probably be dead.’
Rose faltered as she took up the tweezers again, but perhaps talking would help to keep both their minds from the harrowing procedure. ‘You seem to know a great deal about guns,’ she observed, and a twinge of caution tugged reluctantly at her conscience as she inserted the instrument into the second hole. He let out a quickly muted cry, holding his breath and then releasing it shakily. ‘Are you sure you won’t take some laudanum?’ she pressed him.
He grunted bitterly, shakin
g his head. ‘I don’t think laudanum would do much against this. And I want to keep my wits about me. No. Just get on with it as quickly as you can. The sooner I can hide again, the happier I’ll feel.’
‘I’ll do my best.’
She worked on, bracing herself against the cold sweat that flushed over her in waves. It seemed to take an eternity, and by the time all six lead balls had been removed and the wounds cleaned, Rose was drained and exhausted. She was ready to slump down on her bed, weep away her anguish, but there were still tracks to cover.
Seth groaned as he reached for Henry’s shirt, and she could see he was shivering.
‘Wait a few minutes. That last one’s still bleeding. I’ll slip across and get you a clean shirt.’
She went with more confidence, but then checked herself. She must be on her guard at all times, and it wouldn’t be long before Ned was back. But as yet there was no sign of him, and she could hear the busy goings-on in the kitchen. By the time she returned to the stables, Seth had moved back into the relative safety of the darkened dog-leg and half hidden himself in the straw. She inspected his shoulder again. The bleeding had virtually stopped, so she gently wiped it clean and then used the last of the bandages to bind up his wounds. Rose could see his face was grey as he lay down and she covered him with straw. She felt so frustrated. So angry! He should be in a proper bed, being carefully nursed, taking laudanum to ease his pain and help him sleep through the healing process. But here he was . . .
‘I imagine ’twill hurt worse now,’ she mumbled as she cleared away the bloodied rags.
‘Yes. But it should settle down soon. And thank you, Mrs Chadwick. That was very brave of you.’
‘Call me Rose, please.’
The hint of a smile flickered over his generous mouth. ‘That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.’ His eyes fleetingly met hers, and she was once again overwhelmed by the loveliness, the sensitivity in them that seemed to speak to her. And a convict who quoted Shakespeare with such feeling . . .
When Rose took the mug back to the kitchen, Cook was busy preparing a thick, tasty soup for lunch.
‘How’s the dog, ma’am?’
‘Behaving strangely. I think we’ll see the pups any day.’
‘New life’s always good, ma’am. Though pups I can do without. ’Tis that babby o’ yourn I’m looking forward to, if you doesn’t mind us saying so, ma’am.’
‘Not at all!’ Rose grinned, and even Patsy gave a shy smile.
There! All quite natural. No one suspected a thing. And ten minutes later when she saw Ned turning the corner of the house carrying the canister of cream, she knew they were safe.
For now . . .
‘Charles, I’m just taking Dr Seaton over to have a look at Amber,’ Rose announced as she poked her head around the door to his study.
‘Forgive me if I don’t come with you,’ Charles replied as the elderly physician’s head appeared over his wife’s shoulder. ‘I went into Princetown earlier to send some telegrams, and now I have a deal of correspondence to deal with. But tell me, how is she, and the baby, of course?’
‘Blooming!’ Dr Seaton reassured him. ‘She seems to have the perfect balance between rest and exercise, and the baby is growing and has a strong heartbeat. Now let me see this dog of yours, Mrs Chadwick.’ He smiled indulgently, for who could resist the charms of this vivacious young woman? He was semi-retired now, travelling in a horse-drawn trap rather than on horseback as he once had. He wouldn’t normally have agreed to take on a patient as far out as Princetown, but Mr Chadwick had been very persuasive and his wife was a delight. She was like a breath of fresh air. No. More like a whirlwind, and he looked upon her as he might a wilful grandchild.
She skipped along beside him now as they crossed the yard, having insisted that he bring his medical bag in case the dog needed anything! But now, below her finely shaped eyebrows, her arresting violet-blue eyes fixed him with their piercing clarity.
‘Dr Seaton,’ she began torturedly, and had he been taking her pulse at that moment he would have felt it accelerate alarmingly, ‘isn’t there some sort of promise that doctors make? That they’ll treat a patient no matter who they are? And that they must keep all details about their patients confidential?’
The physician’s grey eyebrows swooped into a frown. ‘The Hippocratic Oath, you mean? Well, it’s not as straightforward as that, but broadly speaking, yes.’
‘And,’ she went on, her heart doing its level best to escape from her ribcage as they stepped over the threshold of Gospel’s loose box, ‘what would you say if . . .’ She hesitated, her dry throat closing up. Dear God above, could she trust this kind, elderly man, or would everything she had done for Seth so far have been in vain? But there was no doubt in her mind that Seth’s ankle simply must be seen by a physician. ‘What if the patient was an escaped convict?’ she rasped in a whisper.
Dr Seaton stopped in his tracks. He glanced furtively about him, then glared down at the agonized expression on her face. ‘I don’t think I’m going to like what you’re about to tell me, Mrs Chadwick.’
Rose drew him into the loose box, ignoring Amber, who seemed disinclined to move from her basket. Rose felt so scared, more than at any other time in her life, and her knees were like rubber beneath her. ‘Please, Dr Seaton,’ she begged, her voice trembling. ‘He escaped because he’s innocent. And before you say that’s what they all claim, I believe him. But he’s broken his ankle, and he was shot.’
Dr Seaton paused and drew in a long breath. ‘And you want me to help him?’
She nodded, and tears were glittering in her lovely eyes.
‘And am I to assume that your husband knows nothing of this?’
She nodded again, dancing on the spot, perspiration oozing from every pore. The doctor hesitated, contemplating the compassion that creased her face.
‘The Oath only goes so far, you know,’ he finally answered, his voice low. ‘I should turn him over to the authorities at once. You do realize what you’re asking of me?’
‘Yes. But please! I beg you. If you talk to him, you’ll see he’s . . . different from most of the other felons at the gaol.’
The doctor shook his head, and for one horrible, stomach-churning second she thought . . . ‘All right. I’ll take a quick look.’
‘Oh, thank you!’ She almost collapsed into his arms. ‘He’s just here. Behind us. Seth. Seth?’
The doctor’s lined face jerked in surprise as the mound of straw moved. ‘You’ve got him well hidden,’ he confessed in amazement, and at once he was the professional physician, kneeling by his patient while Rose kept an anxious lookout, her heart in her mouth. ‘Let’s have a look at you, then.’
Seth’s eyes stretched wide. ‘Thank you, Doctor, for not betraying me at once. It’s my ankle and I took some shot in my shoulder, but Mrs Chadwick got it out for me this morning.’
Dr Seaton raised an eyebrow. ‘Did she, by Jove?’
‘There were six pellets,’ Rose whispered over her shoulder. ‘And I cleaned the wounds as well as I could.’
The doctor gave an enigmatic grunt. ‘I thought they were supposed to aim for the legs. To stop you running.’
‘They are,’ Seth grimaced. ‘But Sniders aren’t amazingly accurate. And I was almost out of range, so they’d lost their velocity.’
‘Hmm. You speak like a man of the army yourself.’
‘I am. Ex-army. And I’m not a deserter, if that’s what you think. I resigned my commission.’
‘Officer, then?’
‘Yes. But perhaps if I’d stayed in the army, I wouldn’t have got myself into this mess.’
Rose’s ears had pricked up like a fox. It was the first she really knew of Seth’s background. But they were wasting precious time. ‘What about his ankle?’ she almost hissed in her apprehension.
‘Yes, of course. Let me see.’
The pulse was thundering at Rose’s temples as she stood guard, Amber gazing dolefully at he
r mistress, not understanding why she wasn’t being patted and stroked when something very strange was going on in her belly. But Rose had other, more desperate matters on her mind.
‘The fracture’s slightly displaced,’ she heard the physician pronounce.
‘Can you splint it?’
‘I can do better than that. I’ll use plaster of Paris.’
‘Have you got some? No disrespect, but I wouldn’t have expected a provincial doctor—’
‘Oh, I keep up to date, lad. And it has been in use for several years, you know. But I’ll have to reduce the break. Put it back into place. Now let me tighten this around your arm and see if we can get a good vein for some morphine.’
Seth’s reply was instant. ‘No. If I’m caught when I’m out cold, it’ll be too difficult to explain, and then you’ll be in trouble, too.’
‘And I refuse to do it without morphine. I’d prefer to put you to sleep with chloroform, and you’d come round quicker afterwards, but I’ve only got one pair of hands and I’ll need Mrs Chadwick’s help at this end. But I can guarantee that without one or the other, you’ll scream and bring Mr Chadwick running. Besides, how would you explain the plaster cast? I’m implicated already.’
‘I stole the plaster from your medical bag,’ Rose put in. ‘You thought you had some, but it wasn’t there after your rounds. Anyone could have taken it. And you weren’t sure, anyway.’
She heard Dr Seaton inhale deeply. ‘All right. But I’ll need a bucket of water and an empty one, too. And if you can help me, please, Mrs Chadwick.’
Rose reluctantly left her post, but there was nothing else for it. If they were caught now, they could make excuses, say they had only just found him. At least Seth’s ankle would have been tended, and someone on the outside would have some care for him. Perhaps she could even pay him a prison visit. But Rose couldn’t bear the thought of what would certainly happen to him . . .
She worked on, obeying the doctor’s every instruction, but with one ear constantly on the alert. At one point there was a patter on the loose-box floor, and her heart literally stood still. But it was Scraggles returning from some errand – only he knew what. Rose felt faint from relief, and was infinitely glad the morphine had put Seth to sleep, though it wasn’t a full anaesthetic like chloroform and he groaned when the good doctor pulled his ankle back into place, making a grating sound that set Rose’s teeth on edge. But the process took surprisingly little time, and as she buried Seth’s limp body in the straw again, Dr Seaton washed the residue of the white powder from his hands and rolled down his sleeves.