The Shifting Tide - Anne Perry [143]
Hester was not ready. Her thoughts were in turmoil and she needed to know the truth, however deeply it hurt, if only to free Flo and Claudine from suspicion. Nor was she ready emotionally. She liked Mercy, liked her patience, her curiosity, the way she was willing to learn skills outside her class or style of life, her generosity of spirit, her ease to praise others, even her occasional flashes of temper. Hester was not prepared to accept her death with so much turbulence of heart, so many painful questions unanswered.
But time would not wait; the hand of plague waited for nothing.
“I’m coming,” she said, glancing once at Sutton. Then she followed Claudine out through the kitchen and up the stairs to Mercy’s room.
Flo was sitting beside the bed, leaning forward a little to hold Mercy’s hand. Mercy lay quite still, her eyes closed. She was breathing heavily and the sweat stood out on her skin.
Flo rose and allowed Hester to take her place, moving silently to the door.
Hester touched Mercy’s head, then wrung out the cloth in the dish of water and placed it on her brow. A few minutes later Mercy opened her eyes. She saw Hester and smiled, just the corner of her lips moving a fraction.
“I’m here,” Hester whispered. “I won’t leave you.”
Mercy seemed to be struggling to say something. Hester wet her lips with the cloth.
“Are there any more?” Mercy breathed, the words barely audible.
“Any more?” Hester did not understand what she meant, but she could see that it was of intense importance to her.
“Any more . . . sick?” Mercy whispered.
“No, no more,” Hester answered.
There were several more minutes of silence. Mercy was blue about the lips and she was obviously in severe pain. The poison that had blackened the buboes under her arms and groin was racking her whole body now. Hester had seen death often enough to know that it would not be long. She would have to get word out to Clement Louvain when it was over and they could communicate with the outside world. She would have to tell him about Ruth Clark as well, whatever the truth of his regard for her had been. Odd, such lovely words: Mercy and Clement. And the sister was Charity—the same meaning again. And Ruth Clark too. The word was usually used in the negative—ruthless—so ruth must be a kind of mercy and forbearance, a gentleness of spirit. Presumably, Clement Louvain would tell Charity. What a lot of grief for one man to bear.
Had he known that Ruth had plague? Was that why he had brought her here instead of having her nursed in his own home? If she had been his mistress, then he could well have it too by now.
Mercy’s eyes were open.
Hester looked at her. “Did you know that Ruth Clark had the plague?”
Mercy blinked. “Ruth?” It was almost as if she did not know who Hester meant.
“Ruth Clark, the first one to die,” Hester reminded her. “She was suffocated. Someone put a pillow over her face and stifled her, but she would have died of plague anyway—almost certainly. Hardly anyone ever recovers.”
“Leaving . . .” Mercy said hoarsely. “Not listen to me. Spread it . . .”
“No, she didn’t,” Hester assured her gently, her eyes brimming with tears. “She never went outside the clinic, except to be buried.” She put her hand on Mercy’s and felt the fingers respond very slightly. “That’s why you killed her, isn’t it?” Her throat was tight and aching. “To stop her from leaving. You knew she had plague, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” It was hardly more than a breath.
“How? Was she your brother’s mistress?”
Mercy made a funny little sound in her throat, a gasping as if she had something caught in it, and it was a couple of seconds before Hester realized it was laughter.
“Wasn’t she?” she asked. “Who was Ruth Clark?”
“Charity . . .” Mercy answered. “My sister. Stanley died at sea, but Charity thought she could escape. I wouldn’t let her . . . not with plague. I . . .” But she had no more strength. Her eyelids fluttered and her breath eased out slowly and did not come again.
Hester reached for her pulse, but she knew it would not be there. She sat motionless, overwhelmed with the