The Shifting Tide - Anne Perry [140]
Once or twice Mercy opened her eyes and smiled. Hester tried to get her to drink a little beef tea, and she managed a mouthful or two, but she was very weak. How she had kept going for so long was hard to imagine. She must have been in great pain.
Hester thanked her for all she had done, above all for her gentleness, for her friendship. And she praised her, hoping she would understand at least some of it. Late in the afternoon she seemed to find almost an hour of sleep.
In the evening Hester went downstairs again to see how everyone else was doing—if there was enough water, food, soap—and to fetch another candle. Her head was aching, her eyes prickled with weariness, and her mouth was dry. She had just started back upstairs when she was aware of the room blurring a little, sliding away from her vision. The next thing she lost her balance and slipped into darkness, only vaguely aware of something hitting her hard on the left side.
She opened her eyes to see the smoke-stained patch on the ceiling, then Claudine’s face, ashen with fear, tears on her cheeks.
With a wave of terror so intense the room spun around again, she remembered the moment she had touched Mercy’s armpit and felt the hard swelling. Had she looked as Claudine did now? It was the end; she had gotten it after all. She would never see Monk again.
Sutton was beside her, his arm around her, holding her head up a little. Snoot was pushing against him, wagging his tail.
“Yer’ve no right to give up yet,” Sutton said scathingly. “Yer’ve nothin’ ter give up for! Yer not ill, yer just daft!” He gulped. “Beggin’ yer pardon fer the familiarity, but there in’t nuffin’ under yer arms. Yer just too skinny ter stand the pace!”
“What?” she mumbled.
“Yer not got the plague!” he hissed at her. “Yer just got a fit o’ the vapors, like any other lady wot’s bin brung up right! Claudine’ll get yer ter yer bed, an’ yer stay there until yer told yer can come out. Sent ter yer room, like. In’t that wot yer ma did to yer when yer was full o’ lip?”
“Sent to my room . . .” Hester wanted to giggle, but she hadn’t the strength. “But Mercy . . .”
“The world in’t gonner stop just ’cos yer in’t pushin’ it ’round,” Sutton said disgustedly, but his hand on her was as gentle and his eyes as soft as when he fondled his little dog. “Just do as yer told, for once!” he snapped, his voice suddenly choking. “We in’t got time ter be pickin’ yer up off the floor every five minutes!” He turned away quickly, blushing hard.
Claudine bent down and helped her up, holding her so tightly she couldn’t have buckled at the knees if she had wanted to. Together, awkwardly, trying to keep in step and not trip each other, they made their way back up the stairs, passing a horrified Squeaky Robinson on the landing.
“Don’t look like that, you daft ha’porth!” Claudine shot a furious glare at him. “She’s just tired! If you want to be useful, go and fetch some water from the yard. And if there isn’t any there, tell those blasted men to go and get some.” And without waiting to see if he was going to obey her, she swept Hester along to the bedroom and half heaved her onto the bed. “Now go to sleep!” she ordered furiously. “Just do it! I’ll look after everything.”
Hester stopped struggling and let go.
She woke with a start. The only light in the room was from the candle burning on the small table beside her. In its flame she could see Margaret sitting on the chair, looking back at her, a little anxious but smiling.
Hester shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She sat up slowly, blinking, but Margaret was still there. Horror welled up inside her. “You can’t have . . .”
“I haven’t,” Margaret said, understanding immediately. She leaned forward and took Hester’s arm. “Neither have you. You’re just exhausted.”
“They shouldn’t have told you!” Hester protested, struggling to sit up. Now fear for Margaret drowned out all other thoughts.
Margaret shook her head. “They didn’t. I came because I couldn’t leave you here alone.” She said it quite simply, without protestations of morality or friendship.