The Apothecary's Daughter (12 page)

Susannah pinned her hair up and allowed it to fall in loose ringlets over her shoulders, in the way she had seen Arabella
dress her hair before she went out. She peered into the age-spotted mirror and adjusted one of the curls so that it lay over
her décolletage. Anxious green eyes peered back at her from a face as pale as her gown. She pinched the colour into her cheeks
and forced a smile. She couldn’t see all of herself at once in the small mirror but she knew that the tightly laced bodice
made her waist look tiny. She could do no more; it was time to go downstairs.

She closed her bedchamber door behind her for the last time and gathered up the heavy cream silk of her skirts, cool and slippery
to her touch.

Downstairs in the parlour, her father waited for her.

‘You look delightful, my dear,’ said Cornelius, kissing her on the forehead.

‘Thank you, Father. Arabella took great interest in helping me to choose my wedding dress.’

‘I am glad that you have become friends, at last.’

Never friends, thought Susannah. She had remained steadfast in her refusal to wear the vulgar dress with too many ruffles
and furbe-lows that her stepmother had wanted for her. But they had both
made accommodations in their relationship and in the circumstances the outcome was as good as it was ever likely to be. ‘I
hope that you will be able to return to the quiet life you are accustomed to, Father, now that I am leaving.’

‘I fear there is little chance of that,’ said Cornelius. ‘When the new baby arrives he will doubtless overturn any thoughts
I might have had about a peaceful old age.’

‘Perhaps Arabella is right and you should employ a nursemaid? The money will be well spent, I assure you.’

Cornelius kissed her again and there were tears in his eyes. ‘I do feel as much affection for you as it is possible to feel
for a daughter,’ he said. ‘I am not blind, you know, I do realise that Arabella can be a little difficult at times.’ He blinked
hard. ‘But I still love her in spite of that.’

‘I know you do. And I want you to be happy, which is why I am leaving.’

‘You are so like my dear Elizabeth. You look at me with your great wounded eyes and it tears my heart to pieces. If I could
only have had her back again I would never …’

‘What’s done is done.’ She couldn’t talk of it any more. As the time to leave drew nearer, a numbness began to descend upon
her and it became too much effort to speak. She wondered for a moment if King Charles had felt the same as he made his final
walk to the scaffold. In the distance, the bells of St Bride’s began to peal.

‘It’s time. I wish you much happiness, my dearest.’ Cornelius took Susannah’s arm and led her down the stairs and into the
street where the hired carriage waited to carry them to the church.

There had been only the three weeks while the banns were being read for Susannah to become used to the idea that she was to
be married. Entering the shadowy interior of the church she felt as if she was in a dream. This was a day she had never expected
to happen. Standing dry-mouthed at the altar beside Henry, with her heart fluttering as if it were a bird trying to escape,
she forced herself to
breathe deeply as the voices echoed around her. It would never do to faint now.

It wasn’t until they all emerged into the sunshine that Susannah really looked at Henry. This man is my husband, she said
to herself as a shower of rice landed at their feet. How curious!
My husband.
Until death us do part. And I shall do everything in my power to love Henry and to make him love me, too.

Smiling widely, Henry held her arm and made a great play of introducing her to everyone as Mistress Savage. His dimpled smile
endowed him with a great deal of charm, thought Susannah, having the effect of making him seem more handsome than he actually
was.

The wedding breakfast was a much quieter affair than at Arabella’s marriage to Cornelius. So many of the family friends and
acquaintances had left town to avoid the plague but Susannah was pleased that Richard Berry had come with Bridie and that
Martha had brought her husband. Henry’s cousin, Dr Ambrose, and their aunt, Agnes Fygge, were there too.

Martha, baby James in her arms, warmly embraced her. ‘I’m truly happy for you, Susannah. Mr Savage has a most agreeable manner
and he’s young. You should count yourself lucky.’

‘I do.’ It was true; she had a future to look forward to now, after the anxieties and unhappiness of the past months. Finally,
the numbness of the past few hours began to release her from its grip.

‘And there is something I want to ask you. Will you be godmother to James? Since you were there at his birth it seems right
that you should keep a special eye on him.’

‘I would be honoured!’ Susannah tickled little James under his chin and was rewarded with a gummy smile.

Cornelius had spared no expense for his daughter and they dined on steamed bass, roasted quails, tarts of marrowbone and a
fricassee of chicken, followed by apple and quince pie, comfits and marchpane sweets washed down with the best wine the Crown
and Cushion had to offer. Arabella’s children were surprisingly well behaved except for Mathew, who had to be taken outside
to be sick since he’d eaten more than his share of marchpane.

Agnes Fygge, a bent and crippled old lady with sharp black eyes and cheeks unnaturally bright with rouge, sat opposite Susannah.
‘And how d’you think married life will suit you?’ she asked.

‘Very well, I’m sure,’ stammered Susannah, her gaze fixed upon the old woman’s elaborate walking stick with its silver handle
in the shape of a monkey’s head. Beside her, Henry was deep in conversation with Dr Ambrose.

‘Hmm. Not sure I was suited to it myself. M’husband’s dead now though.’

Susannah, unsure if this was a matter for congratulation or commiseration, kept silent. Next to her, Henry was speaking in
hushed tones to his cousin and becoming increasingly agitated.

‘Been a widow for a long time now. Do what I please,’ said Mistress Fygge.

Susannah nodded, pretending attention while she tried to listen to what Henry was saying.

Dr Ambrose’s eyebrows were drawn together in fury as he answered Henry. ‘You must not bring them here!’

‘Henry tells me you like your new home?’ said Mistress Fygge, apparently deaf to her nephews’ quarrel.

‘Oh, yes! It’s much finer than I might have hoped for. Henry’s importing business is expanding fast, he tells me.’

‘Does he now?’ Agnes’s mouth twisted in an ironical smile. ‘Always had a persuasive tongue. Very like his grandfather in that
way. Dead now, of course.’ She turned away to speak to Richard Berry on her left.

Henry and Dr Ambrose had their heads close together by now, whispering. Then Henry poked his cousin in the chest to press
home his point and Dr Ambrose scraped back his chair and reared up.

‘I promised!’
said Henry, striking the edge of the table. ‘And now I can fulfil that promise.’

‘I’ll have no part in it!’ Dr Ambrose flung down his napkin and stormed from the room.

Susannah watched him go. ‘Henry, what has upset your cousin?

Henry laughed but his face was strained. ‘Will always was dour and bad-tempered. Disappointed in love, I’m afraid and it’s
soured him. But I’ll not let him spoil our wedding day.’ He banged on the table with his knife. ‘A toast! Let us have a toast
to my bride!’

That night, by the time Susannah returned from the privy Henry was already in bed and waiting for her. She had delayed going
upstairs for as long as possible after their supper, even taking the time to welcome Peg, the young maid Henry had hired,
and supervising the priming of the candlewicks and the locking of the doors. A sudden attack of anxiety made her insides churn.
But in the end she could put it off no longer.

Susannah’s trunk had been placed beside the dressing table. She took out her new embroidered nightshift and hung it over the
back of the chair while she loosed the pins and ribbons from her hair. It felt awkward to be alone in a bedchamber with a
man, even if he was her husband. She had avoided thinking too much about what was to come, too terrified to consider the possible
consequences, but at the same time anxious to please her new husband. As she combed her curls free, she caught sight of his
reflection in the looking glass, watching her. She spun round and he smiled fleetingly.

She sent a wavering smile back at him and fled behind the folding screen in the corner of the room. Loosening her bodice with
trembling hands and scrambling into her nightshift, she had to fight back a wave of panic. Breathing deeply, she stood behind
the screen with her shaking arms crossed tightly over her breast while she gathered courage.

‘Susannah?’

‘Yes?’

‘It’s late. Come to bed.’

Reluctantly she emerged.

Henry was pale and for a moment Susannah wondered if he was as nervous as herself.

She kicked off her slippers, climbed into bed and sat up, very
straight, beside him with the sheet pulled up tight under her arms. She wondered if he could hear the unsteady beating of
her heart. ‘Shall I blow out the candle?’

‘Not yet. I want to look at you. There’s no need to be frightened,’ he said, tipping her chin to face him.

Susannah concentrated on his eyes. Eyes as blue as a summer sky.

He smiled at her and lifted her cold hand to his lips. ‘My wife!’ he said wonderingly. ‘We shall do very well, I believe.’

Susannah nodded, a little of her unease slipping away. He reached out and touched her mouth, slowly tracing its curves with
his finger and it felt natural to her to turn her head to kiss his fingertip.

She made no move to resist as he slid his hands into the mass of her loosened hair and bent to kiss her.

It wasn’t at all unpleasant, she thought. The stubble on his chin prickled a little and he tasted of the Canary wine they
had shared at supper. She wasn’t sure what he expected of her and sat motionless while he continued to kiss her. His lips
were warm and silky. He began to caress her shoulder and then to nibble at the hollows of her neck, which brought her out
in goose pimples.

Some of her tension began to seep away and she leaned against him, tilting her head so that he could reach her more easily.
His hands fumbled with the drawstrings of her shift and then tugged impatiently at them until she helped him. Her loosened
shift slipped down over her shoulders and her fingers twitched as she resisted the impulse to pull it up again and clutch
it tightly against her neck. After all, Henry was her husband and it was her duty to be a compliant wife.

‘I’ve never seen skin so very white,’ he whispered as he stroked her shoulders. He bent his head and slowly dropped a myriad
of kisses on the swell of her breasts. Gradually, her shift moved lower and lower until the tip of his finger touched her
nipple. He rolled it gently between his finger and thumb.

Susannah gasped. The most extraordinary sensation of warmth began to radiate out from deep within her.

Henry was breathing hard and his other hand was reaching down to pull up her shift and ease it over her head.

Naked under the sheet, she lay back and watched as he roughly pulled off his own nightshirt and dropped it to the floor beside
her own. Wide-eyed, she saw his firm, brown chest with its light covering of golden hair. She bit her lip as she resisted
the urge to reach out and stroke him, in case he thought her wanton.

He threw back the sheet and instinctively she curled herself up to conceal her nakedness. She gasped as he kneeled over her.
She had never seen a healthy man undressed before and it wasn’t at all like the engravings she had seen of Greek and Roman
statues. Squeezing her eyes tight shut, she tried to put the picture out of her mind.

‘Don’t! Let me see you,’ he said, uncurling her and pushing her back against the soft pillows. He kissed her again, his mouth
hot and his breathing fast.

His hands were all over her, seeking out all her private places, cupping her breasts and even touching her honour, but a delicious
languor had descended over her and she lay back, eyes closed and allowed him to do what he wished. An agreeable tension was
building deep inside her and she became impatient with him, wanting him to … What? She didn’t know what it was but she yearned
for it.