An Appetite for Violets (31 page)

‘Please.’ I touched his arm and the old shine returned to his eyes. ‘Just until Her Ladyship’s back on her feet.’ I could tell he was thinking about it very hard. ‘Please, for the sake of our friendship. I cannot manage alone. Then I’ll help you on your way.’ He licked his lips and grinned, the old half-worried, half-happy grin.

‘I come back tomorrow, Biddy. For you. Last time, perhaps. Then go.’

‘Thank you. Come at six and I’ll get everything ready.’

He paused again, then nodded. ‘I go now.’

‘God speed,’ was all I said, and patted his shoulder. Then, with a clatter and creaking of harness, they were both off into the dusk down the white road to Leghorn and the sea.

*   *   *

Once the silence returned I opened the letter and took in Renzo’s words like the very air that kept me alive.

My Darling,

My master has gone to the Easter festival in Rome after ordering me to be gone when he returns. Nothing keeps me here save you. Carissima, I must speak with you. I beg you, please meet me tonight at ten. I love you darling, I love you more than words can say. In your heart you know we were made to share our lives. Somehow we will conquer our difficulties and live as we should – in each other’s arms, sharing one heart,

R

I scribbled a message back to say I would see him, and hurried out to the ragged boy who waited at the gate. The urchin smiled up at me in the dusk as I handed him a coin and told him to make all speed.

The villa was mighty quiet once Jesmire and Mr Loveday had left. Slipping Renzo’s precious letter in my pocket I got supper ready, lighting a lamp to see by, for the sky had turned dark for such an early hour. I escaped my worries for a while by doing my best to cook the duckling just as Renzo had, striving to possess his art if I could have nothing else of him.

At half after seven o’clock a loud knock came at the door. Another messenger stood outside; I confess I was terrified that Renzo had changed his mind. This letter, however, was addressed to Mr Pars and had come all the way from Mawton. I studied it hard, but I did not know the hand at all. When I took the duckling along with fresh peas up to Mr Pars, I brought the letter with me. But when I knocked he shouted impatiently for me to leave it at the door. I sighed and set the tray and letter down.

Then I took a dish of lemon syllabub, well sugared, to my lady. She was lying awake, weeping into her pillow.

I banged about a bit, then went to her and stroked her shoulder.

‘What troubles you, My Lady?’

She rolled a tear-stained face towards me.

‘I miss him,’ she croaked. ‘And I cannot send for him.’

I didn’t know what to say to that. Then the temptation was too great and I whispered, ‘Who?’

She shook her head and sniffed. No doubt it was that fortune-hunter Napier, I cursed.

‘He cannot be worth it,’ I said gently. She gave a sort of wild-eyed laugh at that, and raised herself up in her bed.

‘So Jesmire has gone,’ she said, scrubbing her tears away with the backs of her hands.

‘Yes, you must put up with me till tomorrow night.’ I sat down beside her and she made a go of the syllabub. I flattered myself that the food put her in a better mood.

‘Having you as a maid will be no trial. I doubt you will stick pins quite so spitefully into my scalp.’

‘I’ll do my best not to, My Lady.’

‘Do you think Jesmire will stay with this fellow?’

There was no point in sweetening the truth. ‘I think she will. I’ve no doubt you’ll find a new maid when we reach Turin or some such place.’

‘And Loveday?’

‘He’ll come back tomorrow, My Lady. He gave me his word.’

Afterwards, not wanting to leave her, I fiddled about awhile. A battered wooden box that had once held blankets stood beside her bed. I lined it with a blanket and cloths; it was a shabby sort of cradle, but was all I could muster.

‘It will be over soon,’ was all I could think to say.

‘Thank the stars for that. I’ll pay this foster family any sum they want. Do you think they would write to me, about the baby’s health? I’ll pay more for that.’

I nodded. She truly was quite alone. I remembered her brother’s letter and my folly in destroying it. I should have written to him, however mithered I was. The very next day, while the house was so quiet, I determined to write him a letter and tell him his sister would soon be home. I crossed to the window and pulled the shutters tight, for a wind was starting to rattle them.

‘There’s a break in the weather coming. At least this heat may drop.’

‘Good. Oh for a spell of English rain. Come here, Biddy,’ she said. I crossed to her and she held out her hand. There was a stirred-up, yearning look to her. ‘You will stay with me, won’t you?’ I took her hand and it was hot and damp to the touch. ‘I’m so frightened of the birthing.’

‘I promise I will, mistress. How do you feel? Any pains yet?’

‘No,’ she sighed. ‘All the same as ever.’

I could feel Renzo’s letter stiff in my pocket. For the first time I realised just what a pretty pickle Jesmire had left me in. I would be tied to my lady every second of the day, from the moment of her first birth pangs. Renzo would never understand why I could not leave her.

She was starting to yawn again, so I fancied it a good time to ask her a favour.

‘My Lady, if you settle to sleep, I should like to go out for a while at ten o’clock.’

She half opened her eyes. ‘Where are you going?’

I could have made up any nonsense about the count, but the time for pretences was over. ‘I have a friend. Another servant. I won’t be long.’

‘I suppose Mr Pars will be here if need be.’

I remembered the ill-tempered shout from behind his door, and wondered if I should tell Renzo to wait until morning. Then I reminded myself that our precious time was running out; that my chance to talk freely to him would soon disappear entirely. When I returned to collect her dirty pots she was fast asleep, her head tucked down beneath the sheet.

It was easy to lift a gown from the wooden stand. I had my pick of all the rainbow gowns hung about the room or folded in boxes. The dress I chose was the one I loved best, pale gold with spangled violets and gold lace trim. I cast my mistress’s indigo cloak upon it, fearful of being seen. I waited as late as I might before leaving, then took a last peep at my mistress. She was still fast asleep and breathing steady.

She was safe when I left her. I swear it on my life.

XXXII

Villa Ombrosa

Being this day Good Friday to Easter Saturday, April 1773
Biddy Leigh, her journal

Comfrey Tea

Boil one oz of comfrey leaves to one quart of water and take in wineglassful doses frequently. It is of sovereign virtue as a remedy for any internal or external troubles; for bleedings, ulcers, phlegm, lung troubles, quinsy and hooping coughs.

A Remedy given me by Nanny Figgis, nurse to Harriet, Countess of Tilsworth, Lady Maria Grice, 1744

Soon after we met at the tower, Renzo pulled back from my kisses and caught my face in his hands.

‘I must speak tonight,’ he said. ‘I have little time.’

There was no way of escaping it; his manner was very forceful and grave. Yet when he started to speak, he did not give me the lover’s rebuke I expected.

‘Roberto, the valet, has heard my master repeat wicked things about you, Carinna. That your husband will soon be dead. Is that true?’

‘He is sick, that is true.’ I did not know what else to say, so I told the truth. ‘It is sad but he does not matter to me. I love you.’

‘Listen, my sweet. The count thinks to marry you. All for your fortune and a famous jewel.’

I laughed at that. ‘What? I would never marry that old ninny. Does he think I am simple-minded?’ At least Carinna and I would agree on that.

‘Carinna. You are here alone in a place in every way foreign to you. A few servants are no protection. He is powerful. He may seem a fool, but he is crafty and always gets his own way.’

I recalled all his gifts and ridiculous gallantries. Had I been walking in my sleep not to think of it?

‘I suppose – if my husband were to die, I would be a free woman.’ And if I was Carinna I’d be mighty rich, I thought, but I did not speak that out loud.

‘Yes. And there is another danger. His brother Francesco is heir to the estate and lives for the day he inherits. He will do anything to stop his brother marrying you. I do not jest, my love. He is a desperate man.’

I gripped Renzo’s hands even tighter, feeling addle-headed from all these intrigues.

‘Carinna, I am leaving his service. I will play no further part in this. All those tokens of love he had me create for you. It sickens me now. That is why I quarrelled with him. And now I hear he consults his notary in Rome. It must be about marrying you.’

I reached out and clung to him, feeling the coarseness of his cheek give way to the softness of his mouth. ‘What shall I do?’ I whispered into his broad neck.

‘You must leave this place.’

‘I want to,’ I said, lifting my face to his. ‘But I cannot. There is Biddy. Any day her time will come.’

Impatience made his next words sound harsh. ‘Can you not leave her at a lodging house? Pay for a nurse?’

In everything I longed to please him. My heart twisted in painful knots.

‘Just a little longer,’ I said. Yet even after the birth there would be the long lying-in to wait for. Carinna did not have the strength of a working woman, who might rise from her bed a week or so after giving birth. Carinna, I realised with an unpleasant jolt, was not the idle but strong-spirited woman I had met back at Mawton. She was a weak, feeble invalid. Her progress back to England would have to be mighty slow and careful. Now Jesmire had left, I would be her only hope of proper care. I could not abandon her.

I closed my eyes and sank my head against his broad shoulder and wished all my troubles would disappear.

‘I have only a few last duties,’ he said. ‘Then I must leave. The count has hired a new cook.’ He lifted my face very gently in his hands. I wanted to sink into his night-black eyes, but they were hard with a question he had every right to ask.

‘You do understand, Carinna? I will do anything to be with you. So tell me truthfully now, do you not care for me as I do for you?’

‘Yes,’ I whispered. ‘You know I do.’

‘Then leave with me.’

*   *   *

I hurried back to the villa feeling even more uneasy than when I first set out. The moon was high and barely a fingernail from being full, so I clung to the shelter of the trees at the roadside, glad to be draped in my mistress’s dark cloak. The night seemed to quiver with all the trapped heat of the day, heavy with midges that flew in crazy spirals. All the way back Renzo’s entreaty rang in my ears. As gently as I could I drew back the screeching gates and pattered up the pale line of the drive. As I passed between the lime trees the breeze rose in hot breaths, shaking the leaves like jittering seed pods. Then at last I had a view of the house, of the pock-marked statues waiting on the terrace, and the blind windows reflecting the moonlight. No, there was one window lit with the flickering gold of a candle. My mistress was awake. I knew it was after one in the morning, for I had heard Ombrosa’s bell toll the hour. I started to run across the bleached paving stones, and pushed through the front door into the pitchy darkness of the hall. From the kitchen I could hear Bengo’s whimpers and was glad I had closed him inside. There was no one else about so I groped my way upstairs to my mistress’s room.

Her travail had begun. My poor lady was twisting and groaning in her sheets, her damp hair stuck to her brow, her face creased with pain.

‘I am here.’ I took her hand and found it slippery and hot.

‘Thank God, Biddy,’ she wheezed. Her hunger for air was terrible to hear. ‘I thought I was alone.’ Her eyes were wide and black with terror.

‘Where is Mr Pars?’ I had seen no light at his door.

‘I called him.’ She had to stop speaking as the groaning pains came over her. Then, when they grew less, she panted, ‘He left me comfortable with some tea. He’s ridden for the doctor.’

I thanked heaven for that at least. To relieve her sweats I opened the shutters a little, for the night was as close as an oven. There was no sign of the doctor’s approach. I returned to her side and learned the pains had woken her soon after I left.

‘Pars was – in a fury – you being gone.’

‘It cannot be helped. I am here now. Do you wish to bear down?’

She shook her head, so I knew I had time. I glanced beneath her sheets and saw the birthing had truly begun. Yet this being her first lying in, there might be hours still to wait.

‘I feel sick,’ she groaned. ‘So poorly.’

‘All is well. I am here.’

I tried to make her comfortable, and piled the bolsters so she might sit up. But in a moment she had slumped and lay writhing on her side. Her face was so white with fear and slick with sweat that I myself was suddenly frightened too.

‘My Lady, I must fetch hot water for the doctor,’ I said, sounding braver than I felt. ‘I will be back soon.’

Her eyes twisted toward me. ‘Don’t leave me.’

‘I promise you, the birth is some way off. I must fetch fresh linen.’

*   *   *

I would be lying if I did not say I was flustered when I got downstairs. The kitchen fire had nearly died away, and I cursed Jesmire for going off and taking Mr Loveday with her. I had foreseen this night of travail as one to while away the hours with a hot caudle of spiced wine and a plate of birthing cakes, but that was not to be. It took a fair while to stoke up the fire again and get the kettle boiling. Meanwhile, I found the pile of clean clouts I had set aside. Then casting around for any other useful items, I slipped Lady Maria’s old silver knife in my pocket. All the time, Bengo yapped about my legs, but when I was ready I gave him a deft shove and left him whining inside the kitchen door.