Bound to Serve (15 page)

“He’s been like this all week?” Elspeth said, unable to keep the indignity out of her voice.

Prudence’s face grew hard. “Is it any of your concern?”

Elspeth poured the tea, concentrating on keeping the angry shake from her hands.

“Elspeth,” Clifford said. “You were addressed. Answer the lady.”

“I concern myself with others, yes,” she said.

She stood and handed Prudence the teacup.

“You see, Clifford, it’s a function of low breeding. In the villages these folk have only one another. It is in their best interest to forsake discretion and involve themselves in one another’s affairs and well-being. Whereas among us – our class – we bear these things with some dignity and don’t make a fuss. Ours is a better way. We accept that the sick will always be with us, as will the poor, as Jesus said..”

Clifford took the teacup Elspeth was handing to him and thought of Caroline, who had concerned herself with everyone, no matter what their station. It had been that concern that had led to her own illness, the one that took her life.

“Yes,” he said. “Indeed it is a better way.”

Elspeth turned away and went to prepare dinner. When it was on the table, she went and got her master and his guest and the two boys, who were in the parlor with the adults now. As always, Harry was friendly and engaging. But Colin was more withdrawn, only speaking when Prudence spoke to him. But he was polite at least and when the adults weren’t looking she smiled encouragingly at him.

But as she served dinner, she worried about the man in the carriage house. The wind was howling outside now. Would he be well?

Prudence Alder noticed the weather, too.

“My it’s turned nasty,” she said, looking out the window as Elspeth served dessert.

“Yes, it has,” Clifford agreed. “There is no way that you can go back in this. Elspeth, prepare a room four our guest.”

Elspeth looked at him. “Begging pardon, sir, but may I first go and tend to the driver? He’ll need another blanket, and a bit of food would do him good.”

“He’ll be fine sleeping with the horses,” Prudence sniffed. “Those simple folk are made of stern stuff.”

She smiled at Clifford. “On the other hand, we of good breeding..” She reached over and pinched Harry’s cheeks, seeming not to notice when the child pulled away. “We must get plenty of rest. You’re welcome to spend some time with my driver later; I’m sure you two have much in common, Elspeth. But you should listen to your master, girl, and see to your betters first.”

Elspeth felt her cheeks flame with anger. Her initial impression of Prudence had been that she was different than her horrible aunt. Now she realized she was wrong.

When Clifford did not intervene, she went up and prepared the room for their guest. And then she went back out to the carriage house. John Logan was indeed sleeping with the horses, curled up to one of the large beasts in its stall for warmth. As Elspeth approached she realized that he was shivering and that his skin was splotchy. She felt a surge of fear but did not understand why. Reaching out, she touched his forehead and felt that it was burning hot.

“Mr. Logan,” she said. “Can you eat? Sir?”

He said nothing, so she went back inside. In the parlor, the pair were talking again.

“Sir?” she began. “Excuse me, but the driver..”

“Are we to endure these endless interruptions all night?” Prudence said sharply. “Indeed, this house needs some discipline.”

She said the words lightly, but Elspeth could tell they had the desired effect. Clifford looked cowed, and she felt an instant disdain for his cowardly reaction in the face of this cruel woman. But what could she do?

“Leave us, Elspeth,” he said quietly. “See to the boys.”

“Not until I give them a kiss,” Prudence said with a forced laugh.

“No,” Elspeth said, getting a terrible feeling as Prudence moved to pull the boys close and the other woman shot her a withering look.

“How dare you!” she said, shooting another look at Clifford, who fixed her with a severe gaze.

Elspeth stepped back and kept her head down as Prudence made a great show of kissing the boys.

“Come along, lads,” Elspeth said quietly and led them up the stairs. The boys seemed glad to be out of the woman’s company and begged for a story before bed. Elspeth complied and then saw to Prudence an hour later as she retired to her room.

She went to bed herself after checking on the driver and covering his shivering form with another heated blanket.

Sleep for Elspeth did not come easy that night. She was plagued with unnamed fears and frightening dreams. But those were compared to nothing when dawn rose and she heard a moan coming from the guest room.

Elspeth arrived first and stopped at the door, feeling weak as she looked in and saw Prudence Alder trying to rise from her bed. Her face was pale and splotchy and she was coughing uncontrollably.

Clifford appeared at the door.

“My god,” he said, and right away he knew. He knew it had been a mistake to dismiss Elspeth’s fears.

And then they both heard something that made their blood run cold.

“Elspeth!”

It was Harry’s weak voice calling from the other room.

“No, god. No.” Clifford couldn’t move. But Elspeth did, her legs carrying her as quickly as they could to the room that held the two people she loved more than anything in the world.

Chapter Twelve

Harry was burning with fever and wracked with cough. Elspeth immediately sent Colin from the room, and when he tried to re-enter his father yelled at him to go downstairs. Elspeth did not say so, but feared it may be too late. The boys had played together and exchanged goodnight kisses. It was only a matter of time before the older child caught it as well.

“What do you think it is?” Clifford Harker asked.

“I don’t know,” Elspeth said. “But it seems grave.”

She looked at him. “The driver. He was very ill last night. Very ill. He looked frightful bad.” She looked away. “He should have been indoors.”

“See to him,” said Clifford Harker gruffly, looking away from her. She knew he was ashamed and in this she did not feel pity for him. Her master should feel shame; the driver should have been allowed a warm berth, especially given that Prudence Alder admitted that the man was ill.

She hurried downstairs, passing Prudence’s room as she went. Inside, the woman was demanding assistance.

“I’m sick!” she cried. “Can’t anyone hear?”

But Prudence ignored her and went downstairs, grabbing her cloak by the door. She was forced to push hard against the door to get it open behind the snowdrift. She prayed as she went to the barn, but an ill feeling dogged her steps.

The driver had died in the night. Elspeth found him where she had left him under the blanket. His horse was standing beside him, its nose nudging the stiff foot.

She felt a chill run through her as she closed the man’s sightless eyes and covered him with the blanket she’d hoped would keep him warm. What Prudence had brought into the Harker home was no ordinary winter cough. It was something else. Something deadly.

Elspeth said a quick prayer and then stood, trying to still her pounding heart as she walked to the door. Just outside the carriage house she stopped to collect firewood. She would need to keep the fire going today, going strong under the wash pot. Everything must be boiled or burnt.

She wondered how many other families had been stricken. Sow had fallen thick and heavy during the night, blanketing the world in white silence. It would be hard to get word out if the sickness had spread; it would be hard to send for help.

It was up to her and Clifford Harker to see them through but as she entered the house she knew at once the master would be of little use. He sat in a chair, shaking. Upstairs, Harry cried and Prudence moaned in between demands for help.

Her heart pulled her towards Harry, but she knew she must first deal with the boy’s father. Terror was etched on his face. And something else, too. Guilt.

She knelt down and took his hands and he looked into her eyes. Tears were streaming down his face.

“My God, Elspeth,” he said in a raspy whisper. “What have I done? What have I done inviting this pestilence into my home?”

She squeezed his hands. “You did not know,” she said.

“But the driver…”

“You did not know.” She said the words firmly. “Don’t you know, Master Harker, that guilt is a wasted emotion. It changes nothing. It’s action that counts. And at the moment action is required. We have two very sick people in this house – Prudence and your son.”

“Three,” he said. “The driver. I should have allowed him to come in. Tell him to. Now, please.”

She swallowed, fearful of what she had to say.

“He is dead.” She delivered the news bluntly.

“My god…” Harker put his hands over his eyes and began to sob, shaking.

“If it’s that fast..”

“We don’t know that. We don’t know how long the driver was sick. We may have time. But we must act. I need you to be strong. Go to Harry. Fetch him clean linens from the closet. Change them and place the used ones by the door. I’ve a pot of water boiling. I’ll put them in. I’ll tend to Prudence and then put more soup on.”

She paused. “Unless you prefer to tend to the lady and I to the lad.”

His face hardened. “No,” he said. “She should have known better than to make her driver come out in that condition. I want nothing to do with her.”

Elspeth felt no victory in this. She had taken a dislike to Prudence Alder over how she’d treated her driver and had secretly hoped for Clifford Harker to see her true nature. But not like this, and certainly not at this price.

“I’ll tend to her then,” she said. “You go up now and tend to your son.”

She helped him from his chair and poured some soup into two bowls. One she handed to her master and the other she took for their guest.

Elspeth heard Clifford Harker warn Colin to stay away from his brother, heard the older child’s fearful question of why and blinked back tears as she entered the guest room.

“Must I call all day!” Prudence’s face was twisted in pain and anger. A pile of vomit lay on the floor. She pointed at it.

“Do you see? I am forced to abide my own waste! Clean it up!”

“I am sorry for the delay,” Elspeth said. “But I had to tend to young Master Harker. He’s taken ill with what has sickened you…”

She paused. “…and killed your driver.”

Elspeth knew it was cruel to scare this haughty woman, but indulged her need to force this woman to examine the consequences of her disregard for others.

Prudence’s pale face went even paler.

“He’s dead?”

“Yes,” Elspeth said. “He should have been under the care of a doctor. Whatever he had was virulent and catching. You were harboring it and passed it along to little Harry.”

“I need a doctor!” the woman said, grasping hold of a bedpost. She did not seem to hear nor care that she’d infected the son of her host. “Fetch me one!”

Elspeth walked to the dresser and withdrew some linens.

“Did you not hear me?” Prudence screeched as Elspeth moved past her. “I’m sick. Go fetch the physician!”

Elspeth began to strip the soiled linens without looking at her and then leaned down, using them to clean the woman’s sick off the floor.

“I could not even if I wanted to,” she said. “The snow is knee deep and with the swiftness you passed this illness on to Harry I would imagine other families are equally in need.”

“Other families are not as important as mine!” the other woman cried.

“Then make for the doctor yourself, ma’am,” Elspeth said. “I responsibility lies here with Master Harker.”

The woman looked at her and pointed, swaying. “You,” she said. “You are in love with him, aren’t you?”

Her pallid lips curled into a sneer. “Fool. You’re nothing more than a maid. You’re as replaceable as my dead driver. One summons to town and Clifford Harker will have another here to replace you and mark me, miss, when we are wed my first order of business will be to send you back to whatever hole your master pulled you out of.”

Elspeth stood, willing herself to ignore the jibe.

“I’m going to go boil these linens,” she said. “If you need to get sick again I suggest you use the chamber pot.”

Clifford Harker had placed the linens by the door. Through the crack she could see him sitting on the newly made bed, rubbing his young son’s fevered brow. She knew that he feared losing another loved one and was powerless to find words that would comfort him. There were none at a time like this. But Elspeth would not let herself feel helpless in the face of such circumstances.

Her grandmother and mother had been healers and had passed down their knowledge to her. In the spring she’d made note of the herbs that grew around the Harker home – the coneflower and columbine and wild tansy.

After setting the linens on the boil she went to the shed and fetched a trowel and a basket. Elspeth worked quickly, digging first through the snow at the base of the elm near the house and then chipping away the frozen ground to get at the coneflower and tansy roots. She’d dried other herbs over the summer but so much of a plant’s magic was stored in the sleeping root – energy waiting to be unleashed by boiling water.

She nearly cried with hurt as the cold stung her hands. By the time she got back inside she could not feel her fingers and bit her lips against the hurt as she thawed their frozen ends by the fire. As soon as she could work them she began to chop the roots, grinding them into a paste which she sprinkled with dried herbs she collected all spring.

Elspeth put the concoction in a small pot over the fire and stirred. The smell was pungent earth and bitter plant. She closed her eyes and imagined Harry recovered and playing and forced herself to imagine Prudence Alder recovered as well. She knew better than to wish ill and death on anyone, not even those who probably deserved it.

The mixture grew thick and greenish brown. Elspeth took it off the fire and spooned a little into five cups. They would all need to drink it as they had all been exposed.