by Dilly Court
‘I knew Mrs Marshall’s aunt, Miss Featherstone, and she was a very capable woman. I can’t imagine that she would have left her cottage to her niece knowing that the lease was about to expire. I think your uncle ought to demand to see the document.’
‘I’m sure he’s done that already. My uncle ran the family business for years, so I’m certain that he’ll have gone into everything very carefully.’
‘I do hope so, because the squire will stop at nothing to get what he wants. He’s driving his tenants out of their homes for no better reason other than they spoil his view, and I suspect that’s why he wants Creek Cottage.’
‘That man is an out-and-out villain.’
Nick tucked the banker’s draft into his breast pocket. ‘So you’ll come with me to Creek Manor? Or are you afraid to face him, Daisy?’
Chapter Twenty-One
A bitter east wind rampaged over the saltings, churning the waters of the creek into a boiling cauldron. Frost sparkled on the grass and coated the remaining leaves on the trees with silver. Birds pecked hungrily at the berries and rosehips in the hedgerows, seemingly oblivious to the sound of Hero’s hoofs on the hard ground or the rumble of the vehicle’s wheels as the trap bounced over ruts in the frozen mud. Daisy sat beside Nick on the driver’s seat, wrapped up against the cold in her fur-lined cape. Mrs Bee had insisted on giving her a hot brick wrapped in a towel, but after twenty minutes it had grown cold and she placed it in the well beneath her feet. She was not looking forward to meeting the squire again. He had not bothered her during the cholera outbreak, but she suspected that was more from cowardice than any finer feelings on his part. Of one thing she was certain – the squire did not like to be crossed and he did not give up easily.
‘We’re almost there.’ Nick gave her a sideways glance. ‘Are you all right, Daisy?’
‘Yes,’ she lied. ‘I’m here to support you against the squire.’
‘We’ll stand together. He’s a bully and he needs to be shown that he can’t always get what he wants.’
‘I just wish that he would do something for Jay. It’s breaking his mother’s heart to think she might never see him again.’
‘I suppose miracles do happen occasionally.’ Nick reined in as they approached the closed gates and a man rushed out of the gatehouse.
‘What’s your business here, mister?’
‘I’m Dr Neville …’ Nick had barely uttered the words when the gatekeeper pulled back the bolts and motioned him to drive on.
‘You was sent for two hours ago,’ the man said grimly. ‘Let’s hope you’re not too late. I can’t afford to lose me job.’
‘What did he mean?’ Daisy asked urgently.
‘I don’t know. I’m not Squire Tattersall’s doctor. He wouldn’t put his trust in someone from Little Creek.’ He flicked the reins. ‘Walk on, Hero.’
As if to add to the sense of urgency, the main door was already open as they drew up at the foot of the steps and Molesworth rushed out to meet them.
‘We sent for Dr Phipps.’
‘I don’t know anything about that,’ Nick said calmly. ‘I am a doctor, but I came to see the squire on a private matter.’
Molesworth beckoned to a stable boy, who had appeared from the back of the house. ‘Take the doctor’s trap to the stables. You’d better come with me, Doctor.’ He shot a suspicious glance at Daisy. ‘The squire won’t want to see you.’
‘Miss Marshall is my nurse. If the squire is unwell we both need to see him.’
‘Be it on your own head.’ Molesworth marched into the house and led them up the elaborately carved oak staircase to the first floor. He came to a halt outside a door. ‘This is the squire’s bedchamber. Perhaps you’d best wait here, miss?’
Daisy held her head high. ‘I’m a trained nurse.’ It was a slight exaggeration, but she felt that she had learned more during the height of the cholera epidemic than she would have done in a year at the London Hospital. Dealing with self-assertive underlings had been part of her day-to-day experiences, and she was not going to be intimidated by the squire’s butler. She followed Nick into the bedroom and shut the door in Molesworth’s face.
The windows were closed and the curtains drawn, allowing in only a chink of daylight, but the smell in the room was enough to convince Daisy that the squire had fallen victim to the dreaded disease.
Nick strode over to the window and pulled back the curtains, allowing light to flood the room. The tapestry bed curtains hung limply from the four-poster and the heavy mahogany furniture glowed dully in the cold light. A fire burned in the grate, but it did little to heat the large room and the chilly atmosphere made Daisy shiver.
Nick examined the squire, who seemed to have shrunk in size. His cheeks were ashen and his eyes were clouded with suffering, but even so, Daisy felt no pity for the man whose cavalier treatment of his tenants had been the cause of the outbreak in the first place. It seemed like poetic justice that the arch tormentor was now suffering a similar fate to those who were far below him in the social scale.
‘Will he live?’ she asked in a whisper.
Nick put his stethoscope back in his medical bag. ‘It’s only a matter of time.’
‘I’m not dead yet.’ Esmond Tattersall’s voice was loud and strong, despite his physical condition.
‘You have cholera, Squire,’ Nick said calmly. ‘You need proper nursing care. I suggest you try to contact your own doctor.’
‘She can do it.’ Esmond raised his arm with difficulty and he pointed a shaking finger at Daisy. ‘She owes me that.’
‘I owe you nothing,’ Daisy said coldly. ‘You’ve done your best to ruin the village and you’ve made my relations’ lives intolerable with your threats of eviction.’
‘I’ll renew their lease if they can find the money to pay for it.’
‘Money won’t do you any good where you’re going.’ Daisy’s last shred of sympathy for the desperately sick man snapped, and she backed away from the bed. The stench in the room had made her feel sick, even though she had treated many patients with the disease, but this time it was personal. The man she detested was dying, but she felt no pity, and that shamed her. As a nurse she ought to be able to set her own feelings aside, but Esmond Tattersall had destroyed lives and refused to acknowledge his own son. He was past redemption.
‘You could receive the necessary treatment at Creek Hall, if you wish.’ Nick placed his bag on a chair at the bedside. ‘Or you could wait for your own doctor to examine you.’
‘Why are you here, Neville? You can’t have known about this.’ Esmond indicated his emaciated body with a feeble wave of his hand.
‘I came to pay off the interest on the loan you gave my father. It’s blood money, but I can repay you in full.’
‘Leave it on the table. I’ll take what I’m due.’
Daisy turned away. ‘I can’t bear to look at you. Anyone else in your situation would be shamed into refusing the money.’
‘Money can’t shame me, but it can buy me what I want.’ Esmond raised himself weakly on one elbow. ‘I will renew the lease on Creek Cottage, but only if you stay here and nurse me back to good health.’
‘I can’t do that,’ Daisy said, horrified. ‘I’m needed at Creek Hall.’
‘You’ll do as I ask, or your aunt and uncle will lose their home.’
Daisy turned to Nick. ‘He can’t do this, can he?’
‘I’m afraid he could, if he was so minded.’
‘But you need me at Creek Hall. I have patients there who rely on me.’
Nick drew her aside. ‘We haven’t had any new cases this week. Do what you must, Daisy. I’ll respect your decision.’
She returned to the squire’s beside, gazing down at him with contempt. ‘I will stay here and look after you, but in return I want you to sign the lease on Creek Cottage over to my aunt and uncle.’
A faint smile deepened the creases on Esmond Tattersall’s face. ‘You have my word.’
‘There’s
another condition,’ Daisy said firmly. ‘You will formally acknowledge Jay Fox as your son.’
‘Never!’
‘Then I’ll return to Creek Hall with Dr Neville and you can take your chances.’
There was a moment of complete silence before Esmond sighed and nodded. ‘Very well. I agree to your terms.’
‘I want it in writing.’ Daisy stood firm, meeting his gaze with steel in her heart.
‘You can take my word as a gentleman.’
‘You are no gentleman, Squire.’ Daisy moved swiftly to a small escritoire at the far end of the room, and as she had hoped, found pen and paper. She sat down and drafted the document releasing the freehold of Creek Cottage to her aunt and uncle. When she was satisfied with the wording, she took it over to the squire’s bedside and read it to him. He added a barely legible signature, and fell back on the pillows with a groan.
‘You’ll stay now until the end.’ Esmond’s voice tailed off and he closed his eyes.
‘Yes, I will. I’ll keep my part of the bargain.’ Daisy turned to Nick and found him watching her with a worried frown. ‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Are you sure about this, Daisy?’
‘I am, but I’d be grateful if you would deliver this to my uncle on your way home.’ She handed him the folded sheet of paper. ‘He’ll know what to do.’
‘Very well, although I’m not happy about this.’
‘There’s one other thing you could do for me,’ Daisy said in a low voice. ‘Ask Mary to come here to keep me company. Tell her I’d be very much obliged if she could bring herself to do this for me.’
Nick eyed her suspiciously. ‘What are you up to?’
She gave him an angelic smile. ‘Nothing for you to worry about, Doctor.’
Molesworth made it clear that he suspected Daisy’s motives for agreeing to nurse his master, but Mrs Ralston, the squire’s housekeeper, was more amenable. She had a bedroom made up so that Daisy would be near the squire at all times, and she saw to it that trays of food were sent up to the sickroom to tempt Daisy’s appetite. It was hard to treat the squire like an ordinary patient, but Daisy somehow managed to put the past behind her and even if she could not be sympathetic, she dealt with his symptoms in a professional manner and, to her surprise, he responded with gratitude. The disease stripped the sufferers of their dignity as well as being debilitating and painful, but Esmond was not a man to give up easily.
On the third morning Daisy had managed to snatch a few hours’ sleep after tending to the squire’s needs during the night, but she was awakened at first light by someone shaking her shoulder. She opened her eyes, staring blearily into Mary’s worried face.
‘I came as soon as I could.’
Daisy sat up in bed, shivering and reaching for her wrap. It was bitterly cold in her room and particles of ice had formed on the inside of her window. ‘The squire is failing fast, Mary.’
‘What do I care? That man ruined my life. I came here to help you, not him.’
‘I want to see justice done, and this might be his only chance to save his soul, if such a thing is possible.’
Mary glanced round the room. ‘Should I light the fire? It doesn’t look as if the maid is going to oblige.’
Daisy slipped her wrap around her shoulders. ‘Yes, please do. I’d better go and check on my patient. I’ll explain everything when I get a moment.’ She fastened the voluminous garment with a sash and left the room, padding barefoot on the thick carpet as she entered the squire’s bedchamber. She pulled back the curtains, allowing the pale dawn light to filter into the room. The squire’s breathing was stertorous and when she drew nearer to the bed she could tell by the blueness of his skin that the end was very near. For a moment she felt a surge of pity, but she quelled the emotion, falling back on the months of experience she had endured with the killer disease. This was not the time to be sentimental. She made him as comfortable as possible before ringing for a servant. When the flustered maid put her head round the door as if afraid to enter the room, Daisy sent her to fetch Mr Peabody, the vicar. The maid fled, calling for Mrs Ralston in a panic, but Daisy had a plan.
‘Can you hear me, Squire?’ She plumped up his pillows, giving him a gentle shake.
He opened his eyes and was immediately alert. ‘What do you want, woman?’
‘You know that the end is very near.’
A wry smile curved his lips. ‘I’m going to meet my maker. This isn’t how I planned to get you into my bedroom, Daisy.’
‘I’m giving you a chance to right a wrong you did to a much better woman than I will ever be.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Yes, you do, and Mary is here now. Will you do the right thing by her and her son – your son?’
‘Do I have a choice?’ he asked weakly. ‘You have taken my place as the one who is in command, Daisy. I knew you were a woman after my own heart.’
She nodded. ‘I’ve sent for the vicar.’
‘So be it. I suppose I could do one good thing before I die.’
‘I’ll go and tell Mary. She’ll argue, but I want you to promise one more thing.’
‘You would harass a dying man?’ His brown eyes glinted with amusement even though it was obvious his strength was failing.
‘Make Jay your heir. As I see it you have no one closer to you than your only son.’
‘And what do you get out of this? Are you aiming to become mistress of Creek Manor? What would you do if I insisted on marrying you instead?’
‘I’ll walk away and leave you. I’m not doing this for myself, strange as it may seem to you.’
He closed his eyes. ‘Leave me in peace, you harpy. Do what you will.’
Mary listened in silence, but her eyes widened and filled with tears when Daisy finished speaking. ‘I can’t,’ she whispered. ‘It’s not right. He’s a dying man; he doesn’t know what he’s doing.’
‘He’s more sensible at this moment than at any time since I’ve known him. I think he really wants to make reparation to you and to Jay. Would you deny your son the chance to inherit all this?’
‘I can’t speak for Jay. I don’t even know where he is.’
‘I know him well enough to say that he would want what’s best for you, and if you marry the squire now, as you should have done all those years ago, then you will become mistress of Creek Manor.’
‘But it seems wrong to take advantage of a dying man.’
‘He didn’t stop to question his conscience before he took advantage of you, Mary. Allow him to atone for the wrong he did you and the child you bore him.’ Daisy rose from the chair by the fire. ‘The vicar should arrive soon, but you must do what you feel is right. I’m not saying any more. It’s up to you.’
Daisy returned to the squire’s bedside and sat with him until Mr Peabody rushed into the room. ‘I am sorry I took so long, Squire.’ He glanced at the inert figure in the bed and then at Daisy. ‘Am I too late?’
‘No, you’re not. Get on with your job, Parson.’ The squire’s voice was strong and there was no suggestion of confusion in his eyes as he glared up at the clergyman. ‘Where is she, Daisy? Fetch the mother of my son and let me do one decent thing before I die.’
‘What is this?’ John Peabody glanced anxiously at Daisy. ‘Am I hearing correctly? The squire wishes to marry you?’
Daisy moved towards the doorway. ‘Not me, Vicar. The lady in question was wronged by the squire many years ago. He wishes to make amends.’
The Reverend John Peabody stared at Tattersall as if seeing a total stranger. ‘You do?’
‘Oh, get on with it. I’m sound in mind, if not in body. I know I did the girl a disservice, and I’m prepared to make up for it now.’ He beckoned to Daisy. ‘Write down my dying wishes. I leave everything to Jay Tattersall, my true-born son, and fetch the woman I’m to wed.’
Daisy settled herself back at the escritoire and it only took a matter of minutes to write the simple will, leaving everything to
Jay. When it was signed and witnessed by herself and Mr Peabody, Daisy went to fetch Mary.
‘I don’t think I can go through with it.’ Mary paced the floor, wringing her hands. ‘It’s not right.’
‘I can’t force you,’ Daisy said gently. ‘But think of Jay and the injustice he’s had to put up with all his life.’
Mary stopped short and took a deep breath. ‘Yes, you’re right. He suffered because Lemuel couldn’t forgive me, even though I was the innocent party, and he took it out on Jay. I will do it.’
Daisy sent for Mrs Ralston and Molesworth, who acted as witnesses to the bedside marriage of Esmond Tattersall and Mary Fox. Molesworth was visibly shocked, but Mrs Ralston threw her arms around the new Mrs Tattersall and wept.
‘I’m so happy for you, Mary.’
Daisy looked from one to the other in surprise. ‘Do you know each other?’
‘We were in service here at the same time,’ Mrs Ralston said, wiping her eyes on a spotless white handkerchief. ‘Mary was the pretty one, which was unlucky for her. Sometimes there are advantages in being plain and homely.’
‘You weren’t plain,’ Mary protested. ‘You were the clever one, Ida.’
‘Stop cackling like old hens.’ Esmond attempted to sit up, but he lacked the strength. ‘Get them out of here, Daisy. I’ve done my duty. Now leave me to die in peace.’
Molesworth eyed his new mistress warily. ‘Might I suggest we retire to Mrs Ralston’s parlour, ma’am.’
‘I’d better get back to Creek Hall,’ Mary said hurriedly. ‘I have work to do.’
‘You’re the mistress of Creek Manor now.’ Daisy gave her a hug. ‘You’ll never have to work again.’
Mary’s eyes widened. ‘But what will I do all day?’
Mr Peabody cleared his throat noisily. ‘My dear lady, I’m sure that Mrs Peabody would be only too happy to offer you help and advice. You will be most welcome on her committees. There are certain obligations and responsibilities that go with the position of lady of the manor.’
‘I don’t think I can do all those things.’ Mary sent a pleading glance in Daisy’s direction. ‘I’m still the same person.’