All for Love (10 page)

It was a delicious idea. Tucked snugly into the bed Sukey had warmed with a hot brick, Juliet had time to notice the ‘Some kind of order’ Josephine had spoken of. The whole place had been changed beyond recognition. The bed was comfortable, the furniture adequate and the hot meal Sukey brought her delicious. And she was tired, almost too tired to eat. How many nights was it that she had either watched with Hyde, or got up half-way through to make sure all was well with him? Trying to count, trying not to remember, she let the easy tears trickle down, and fell asleep.

That was the oddest Christmas Juliet ever spent. The weather was mild, like spring-time in France, and she sat out of doors a good deal, warmly wrapped in a shawl, reading and resting after the strain of what she had been through. She and Josephine had agreed, from the start, that it would be best for her not to go far from the house. Sukey did the shopping in Ruffton, as Anne had done before, except that old Sukey grumbled a good deal about the length of the walk, and never got back without reminding Juliet of the state of her ‘poor feet’.

She also brought lurid details of the ‘Purchis Scandal’ which had inevitably reached Ruffton by now. ‘They make more of it than most,’ she explained. ‘Along of Mr. Hyde’s being such a quiet kind of gentleman. But Miss Josephine, she’s riding high over the lot of them. Christmas parties and I don’t know what all.’

‘She’s in Savannah then?’

‘Where else?’

‘And what do they say about the master?’

Sukey shrugged immense shoulders. ‘Who knows? Winchelsea’s a long row from Savanny.’

Surely bad news of Hyde would have reached town? And yet, it was with a curious feeling of confirmed expectation that she saw Satan and his team of rowers pull in towards the wharf one gloomy day of early January. Forgetting all about the rowers, she ran down over the bluff to meet Satan. ‘What is it?’ The fact that Josephine was not with them was bad news in itself.

‘Bad news, missy.’ His words confirmed her fears. ‘The master’s worse. Miss Anne sent us for you — and Noah to town by land for the missis. Won’t she just be mad at having to come all the way round by road!’ The idea obviously gave him pleasure. ‘You to wait for her at the old wharf.’

‘But why? What for? I don’t understand, Satan.’

‘Miss Anne said, don’t ask why, just come.’

‘Very well.’ What else could she say? ‘I’ll get my shawl, and tell Sukey.’

‘Don’t waste no time, missy. It takes longer to here than to Savanny, even by road. And the mistress don’t much like waiting.’

‘No.’ She ran up to the house, explained as much as she herself understood to Sukey, promised that she would be back before night fell, and was running back over the bluff winding her shawl round her shoulders as she went, before Sukey had really drawn breath for the inevitable protest.

The mild weather had brought, already, the first hints of spring. Along the river banks the drab hues of cane brakes and evergreens were lighted up, here and there, by the first delicate green and soft brown of new shoots. Juliet hardly noticed. Half consciously, she was aware that the rowers were singing a gloomy song today:

‘Die on the field of battle,

Die on the field of battle,

Glory in my soul.’

Somewhere, not very far off, on the Carolina shore, a forest fire was burning; she could smell it in the fresh wind and see the heavy pall of smoke overhead. They burned for days sometimes, Sukey had told her. But at least, up there, it was no threat to Winchelsea. They were in the main river now and she saw, with relief, that the tide was low. Josephine’s carriage would have no difficulty in getting over the corduroy bridge that connected the island, of Winchelsea with the main land.

‘Die on the field of battle.’ Hyde was worse. If he died, now, it would be twice her fault, for causing the trouble in the first place, and for leaving him against her better judgment. And yet, what else could she have done? Oddly, at this point, she realised that she had made up her mind about something, without even consciously considering it. She had told Sukey that she would be back before nightfall. Well, poor Sukey would have a long wait. Because, whatever Josephine said, whatever happened, she was going back to nurse Hyde.

And then? She pulled her shawl more tightly round her, against the beginning of the sea breeze. The future must take care of itself. Hyde’s illness was her responsibility, and she was going to shoulder it. Her heart curiously lighter at the thought, she shouted back to Satan, ‘Tell them to sing the other song; the one about Jenny!’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ Odd to think he had no idea what her name was.

So it was to the rousing tune of ‘Jenny shake her toe at me,’ that the boat finally pulled into the old wharf. Anne was standing there, waiting, her face drawn and anxious in the gathering dusk.

‘But who’s with Hyde?’ Juliet asked as she jumped ashore.

‘Alice. I gave him an extra draft. He should be quiet for an hour or so more. Yes, wait, Satan, thank you.’ Anne was invariably courteous to the servants. ‘Quickly.’ She led the way towards the tumble-down house. ‘You’re the only one who can persuade her. She’s in a bad mood, I’m afraid; summoned so suddenly, and with a party on tonight; and, of course, the land journey. Even you’ll have trouble.’

‘Persuade her to what?’ But in her heart she knew.

‘That you must come back and nurse the master. He won’t mind anyone else. I’ve done my best, God knows.’ She broke suddenly into French, a sure indication of her state of mind. ‘Night after night I’ve sat up with him; given him his broth, just the way you did. Everything. No use. He won’t stay still, he shifts the bandage, he works himself into a fever, and talking, all the time talking,
le
pauvre
.’

‘What about?’

‘Josephine.’ Anne faced her with it, pausing for a moment in the derelict garden. ‘Make no mistake about that,
petite
. It’s her he calls for, but it’s not her can save his life. I almost laughed, this morning, when Judge James and madame must be sent for. Much use she is in a sickroom. But that’s the way it is,
ma
mie
. If he’s to be saved, you’re the one can do it, and then —’

‘I know.’ Juliet took Anne’s hand impulsively. ‘Thank you, Anne, I know. Back to France. I’d told Josephine that already. I hadn’t meant to come back, but this is different, is it not?’

‘It is indeed. I just hope to God you can persuade her.’

‘I shall.’ Juliet pushed open the rotten door of the house.

‘At last!’ Josephine’s mood was even worse than Anne had prophesied. Juliet knew those signs of old, the furrowed brow, the angrily twisting hands, the voice almost unrecognisably shrill. ‘So!’ She was up from her battered chair like a rattlesnake uncoiling. ‘You choose to send for me, cousin, and then keep me waiting, in this hole, an hour and more.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Juliet kept her voice purposefully low. ‘But in fact, Jo, it was not I who sent for you, but Doctor James.’ She used the judge’s other title advisedly.

‘James? But why? And why here?’

‘That was Anne’s doing.’ Anne, she noticed, had very wisely decided to stay outside and leave the two of them to it. ‘Judge James said Hyde needed your nursing. That you must be sent for. Anne quite rightly reasoned that what he meant (though of course he did not know it) was that he needed my nursing. And he’s going to get it.’

‘I don’t believe I quite understand you.’ Josephine, too, had lowered her voice, but it was still dangerous.

‘No? Then I must make myself clear. This disaster happened because I agreed to your scheme of a substitution. Hyde’s illness is entirely my fault, as you have not hesitated to point out to me. Well, then, if there is anything I can do to save his life — and it seems there’s a chance of it — I am going to do it. Have it whichever way you like. Sukey is expecting me back tonight. If you go, I will take over at Winchelsea as before; when Hyde is better — if he is,’ she hardly dared say it, ‘I will let you know.’

‘And if I don’t agree?’

‘I shall go up to the house, make myself known to Miss Abigail, tell the whole story, and nurse him just the same. You won’t like that much.’

‘I shall not.’ Josephine actually ground her teeth. ‘And you won’t look very pretty either.’

‘No. But don’t you see, I don’t care. That’s where I’m stronger than you, Jo. I don’t care about anything except saving Hyde’s life, if, please God, I can.’

‘And afterwards?’ It was Anne’s question, rephrased.

‘Afterwards, I shall go back to France. You will neither of you ever see me again. That I promise you, Jo.’

‘Oh, very well.’ Anger suddenly dissolved into pettishness. ‘It’s deuced inconvenient and means I must miss a whole range of New Year parties, but you shall have your way this time. On one condition.’ Her tone hardened suddenly.

‘Yes.’

‘That you stay and see me through my venture. The
Liberty
and her crew won’t be ready until spring. There’s more to do than I had realised to prepare for the long voyage to France.’ She laughed suddenly, breaking the tension. ‘There’s one way you could get back, Ju.’

‘By way of a mad venture to St. Helena? With a parcel of rapscallions from the Old Guard! I thank you, no.’

‘But you will go back?’ Anxiously. ‘I doubt there won’t be room for the two of us in this country, not after this charade is over.’

‘Of course I’ll go.’ Somehow, once again, without anything exactly said, it seemed to have been agreed between them that she would see Josephine through her mad project. Shamefully impossible not to be glad of this.

It was getting dark in the dismal little room. ‘Time to be going.’ Josephine was herself again. ‘Uubutton me, pet.’

They made the inevitable exchange of clothes in almost total silence, each busy with her own thoughts. ‘Oh, well, back to the wilderness.’ Josephine was ready first. ‘You’ll let me know the minute he’s better? I can’t say I much fancy life out on that bluff of yours, with old Sukey and the alligators for company.’

‘I’ve left some books.’

‘Books! Dear God how bored I’m going to be.’

Chapter Eight

Noah was waiting outside with Ariel. He must be in the plot by now, since Anne had had him meet the carriage at the end of the causeway, to save Josephine the long drive up to the house. As a result, maddeningly, Juliet had to ride back across the island to where Charon was patiently walking the carriage horses up and down. But at least Anne had apparently taken the result of the interview for granted and had already left to walk back to the house. She would be giving Hyde his broth.

‘Good to see you, ma’am!’ Charon beamed at her as he helped her into the carriage. ‘Now we’ll be all right and tight again.’

Leaning back against the musty squabs, Juliet wondered just how many of the servants actually knew of the substitution. Had she given herself away more than she knew? She did not think so, for after all neither Hyde nor old Miss Abigail had shown the slightest suspicion. Much more likely that Josephine’s bribing of Satan and the rowers had been less efficacious than she thought. After all, they might take their mistress’s money, but it was their master they loved. At least, she thought, so long as the servants seemed to be in a kind of tacit conspiracy to help her, it should make things much easier.

It was good, too, to find Alice waiting for her when she hurried up to her room after a quick glance in at the sickroom door to see Hyde fast asleep and Anne beside him, finger on lips.

‘Thank God you’re come, ma’am.’ Alice took her shawl. ‘The judge is waiting for you in the parlour. I told Pete to shut the door tight so you could get up here first.’ And then, suddenly anxious. ‘It
is
you, ma’am, isn’t it?’

Juliet could not help laughing. So much for their well-kept secret. ‘Yes, it’s I. Alice. I’ve come to nurse the master.’

‘Of course.’ Alice clearly saw nothing out of the way in this. ‘And Miss Abigail?’

‘Has she been downstairs?’

‘Constantly. While you — while the mistress has been away.’ She was busy combing out Juliet’s tangled curls. ‘She took to her bed again when Judge James said to send for you for her.’ She grinned delightedly. ‘A real Christmas charade it is, and no mistake. And don’t ever forget, ma’am, we’re all on your side, every mortal soul of us.’

‘Everyone knows?’

‘Well of course.’ She laughed again. ‘That Satan’s never kept counsel in his life. It’s just like the mistress not to know that.’

‘But you’ve not told?’

‘The family? I should just about think not. It would kill the master, the state he’s in, and very likely Miss Abigail too. We’d never hurt them, don’t you see, miss,’ she hesitated, ‘ma’am?’

‘Best call me ma’am to be on the safe side. But how does it come about that you are here. You didn’t come back from Savannah with the mistress?’

‘Nor went there with her neither. No ma’am. She chose to take Kate to town with her. Well,’ fairly, ‘I reckon she’s not fool enough that she didn’t feel something when she came back. Seems like I couldn’t serve her just the way I can you. And that Kate, she’s as stupid as she can hold together. I doubt she even knows.’

‘Well, that’s something,’ said Juliet ruefully. ‘Oh — and Mr. Everett?’

‘He left soon after you did, ma’am. Said he must see to his business in Savannah. And he’s not staying in Oglethorpe Square neither. Took his traps out pretty smartly and moved to the Pulaski Hotel. He sends all the time to enquire, you understand, and rides out once or twice a week. There! You’re tidy enough for the Judge. And don’t be worrying that he might notice anything. He dislikes the mistress so much he never looks at her, Aaron says. I think it went against the grain with him to send for her back (you back!) but I tell you straight, ma’am, we were going to, tomorrow, if he hadn’t.’

‘You?’

‘Yes. All of us. We talked it over down at the cottages last night and agreed we’d give it one more day. Then Satan was coming up to Ruffton, orders or no orders, to tell you how things were, and ask you to come back. We love the master, don’t you see?’

‘Yes, Alice, I do.’ She was close to tears. ‘Will I pass?’ She made herself sound calm.

‘With a bit of a bad temper at being dragged away from I don’t know how many balls; and your fan —’ Alice handed it to her. ‘Yes. And God bless you, ma’am, whoever you are.’

Heart-warming to have so many allies all of a sudden. Juliet went downstairs with a firm step and found Sam loitering in the hall, ready to throw open the parlour door for her. ‘Just a minute, Sam.’ He, too, was grinning at her as if to show every gleaming tooth in his head. ‘I want to look in on the master first.’

But Hyde was still asleep, Anne still fixed by his bedside; there was no excuse for loitering here. And no pleasure, either. Now she was calmer, she could see a grave change in Hyde. His face was thinner; his eyes huge and dark-shadowed; even in sleep his hands moved restlessly over the bedclothes. ‘I’ll be back,’ she whispered to Anne, then hurried down the hall to join the doctor.

‘At last, ma’am.’ He was a formidable figure, more judge than doctor. ‘You have actually torn yourself away from your festivities?’

‘At your command, Judge.’ She must not let the comfortable frankness with Alice make her forget her part. ‘And am missing a Twelfth Night party at Mrs. Scarbrough’s as a result. I trust what you have to tell me will justify the sacrifice.’

‘What I have to tell you, ma’am.’ He stood over her, black in his formal clothes, as she reclined negligently in a chair, and his very whiskers seemed to bristle with anger. ‘What I have to tell you,’ he repeated in a slightly calmer tone, and with a visible effort, ‘is that, thanks to your neglect — parties at Mrs. Scarbrough’s forsooth! — your husband is nearer to death now than he was when they brought him home.’

‘Oh, my God!’ But it was only what she herself had thought.

‘Yes.’ He looked at her very straight under heavy eyebrows. ‘I was surprised, madame, I confess, at the way you nursed him in the first place. I was almost led to change the opinion I have held of you, since my friend Hyde brought you home from France ... But to abandon him to servants, just when he had taken a turn, when he was on the mend, when every day, every minute counted ... I don’t know how you can reconcile it with your conscience.’

‘Oh God, nor do I.’ It came, uncontrollably, from her heart. And then, with an effort. ‘But you must not forget my other responsibilities — my friends in Savannah — Christmas — the New Year.’

‘Christmas!’ he said. ‘New Year! Friends! Pah —’ He spat it out. ‘I tell you, ma’am, if you let Hyde Purchis die of neglect, you won’t find you have many friends here in Chatham County. Had you thought of that, hey? Or what will become of you if he dies? His nephew’s no friend of yours: Miss Abigail won’t see you. It will be back to France for you, bag and baggage, and don’t deceive yourself otherwise.’

‘I know, Doctor.’ She kept her voice sweet as honey. ‘And that is precisely why I am here. So let us sit down, quietly together, like the friends we are not, while you tell me what I must do to keep this husband of mine alive.’

‘Think of nothing else,’ he began uncompromisingly, and went on to a list of jalaps, tinctures and febrifuges that made her head whirl. ‘And if that does not serve,’ he concluded. ‘We must try a blister.’

‘Oh, no!’ This drastic and hazardous treatment had been tried on her father, with disastrous effects. The artificially induced blister had driven him nearly mad with pain. Alone in the house with him, she had been afraid for both their lives.

‘I’m the doctor.’ But the judge’s tone had softened just a shade. ‘Don’t you see, Mrs. Purchis, what we have to do is bring him to his senses, get him fighting on our side. Right now, he’s just letting himself go. We’ve got to change that, or, frankly, there’s not a hope. There are illnesses of the mind, as well as of the body. I think he is suffering from both, and the one is aggravating the other.’

Oh, poor Hyde, pining for a wife who would not sacrifice a few parties to nurse him. ‘Very well, Doctor.’ She rose grace, fully to her feet and held out a hand that was not quite as white as it should be, owing to all that sitting out of doors at Ruffton. ‘I will do my best, such as it is. Though why anyone should think me fit for a mental nurse, God knows.’

‘God knows indeed!’ She had made him angry, as she intended. ‘I certainly do not. And moreover, ma’am, I said nothing about madness, which you seem to imply. I merely believe that my poor friend is suffering from a melancholic affliction of the nerves. Cheer him, ma’am; read to him; talk to him, even if he don’t seem to listen.’

She yawned, prettily, behind her hand. ‘Forgive me, Judge — So late last night. Read to him, you say? Books?’

‘You know how, I take it?’ His tone was scathing.

‘Why yes. They said at the Convent that I could make even Abbe Millot’s
History
interesting. But what in the world am I to read, Judge?’

‘Anything that Hyde enjoys.’ A very grim look under those bushy eyebrows. ‘You don’t know? Well, he was reading Gibbon before Christmas. You might contrive to find that in the library, if you looked.’

‘Gibbon! All about those detestable Romans with the unpronounceable names?’ Would Josephine know that much? ‘You must be joking me, Judge. It would kill him outright. And me, too, for the matter of that, and I suppose, for the moment, you would rather have me alive. And that reminds me, there’s something you can do for me, if you will.’

‘At your service, of course.’ His tone belied the words.

‘It’s Miss Abigail. I expect you know she took a miff against me when I was here last. Quite ridiculous. She found poor Mr. Everett sitting by me on the sofa and jumped to all kinds of old maid’s conclusions. She’s been avoiding me ever since. Frankly, I find it too tedious to be endured. I don’t care what you say to her, Judge, but if I’m going to nurse Hyde, she must come downstairs and behave like a civilised person.’ She laughed harshly. ‘I’m prepared to face scandal for someone like poor Mr. Fonseca, but Mr. Everett! I thank you, no. Tell Miss Abigail she’s got cotton-seed in her head, would you, and make her behave?’

‘Miss Abigail is a Purchis.’

‘And therefore above manners? I’m a Purchis too, Judge, of a sort, and I won’t be treated like white trash in my own house.’ She pulled the bell-rope. ‘Sam.’ He must have been waiting outside the door. ‘Ask Miss Abigail if she will see the doctor? And now, if you will excuse me, Judge, I should be with my patient. What did you say? Talking to him? Reading to him? Oh, delicious!’ She swept from the room.

In the sickroom, nothing had changed. Hyde lay, just as he had before, flat on his back, arms loose on the quilt, jaw slightly dropped, a picture of inertia. Beside him, Anne was working steadily at the tatting that had been her solace ever since Juliet could remember. She rose, now, with a look of relief. ‘You’re here, at last. I was beginning to think you’d never come. It’s time for his medicine, and he won’t take it for me.’

‘What is it? It smells very nasty.’ Juliet sniffed at it gingerly.

‘Red pepper tea. They call it “Old Doctor Capsicum,” the good God knows why.’

Juliet bent over the bed and took one of those limp hands in hers. ‘Hyde!’ she said urgently. ‘Hyde, wake up. It’s time for your medicine.’

No response. ‘Hyde!’ Louder this time, and close to his ear. ‘It’s I, Josephine. I’m home. And it’s time for your medicine.’

Not a movement from the still figure on the bed. ‘How long has he been like this?’ Juliet turned to Anne.

‘It’s been getting steadily worse. As bad as this? Two days? Three? Hard to tell, exactly. For a while, he did as he was told, drank his medicine, let us move him in the bed, change his linen, that kind of thing. Now — nothing.’

‘You should have sent for me sooner.’ But what use was that? ‘Go, quick, Anne. Judge James should still be with Miss Abigail. Ask him to come here to me before he goes.’ She sat down in Anne’s chair by the bed and began, first gently, then harder to rub the hand that lay on the quilt beside her. ‘Hyde,’ she said, and then, louder, ‘Hyde?’

It was like talking to a thing, a stone, a tree. Her voice rose, despite her, reaching almost a note of hysteria. ‘Hyde! I’m here, Josephine. Look at me! Speak to me!’

Did the still figure on the bed stir just a little, or was she imagining it? If it did, it was only for an instant. The jaw that might have closed, just a fraction, was open again, the mouth-breathing heavy and laboured as ever. And she had done this. All of it. She sat there, the lifeless hand in hers, tears pouring down on it.

‘Mrs. Purchis!’ Judge James’s surprised voice roused her. Stupid! She should not have let him catch her like this.

‘Doctor! There you are at last. I vow I was near to tears with pure boredom. I ask you, what is the use of my talking, reading aloud, doing anything for this! This thing! You were right and I was wrong. We must try the blister.’

‘We?’

‘I am his wife, Doctor, like it or not. And his nurse. Thanks to you. As both, I think he has been allowed to continue in this lethargy too long. If you can think of a better way than a blister to rouse him, pray do. For me, I find myself at a stand. Only — it may make him violent.’ She could not tell him what her father had been like. ‘What might that not do to the wound?’

‘Oh, the wound.’ His tone was quelling. ‘That is healing; that’s no great problem.’

‘Well, thank God for that,’ she rose to face him. ‘You might have told me sooner, Doctor.’