The Apothecary's Daughter (9 page)

‘I said hold her still, damn you!’ shouted the doctor.

‘Don’t hurt my baby! Don’t hurt my baby!’ Elizabeth’s head rolled from side to side as she fought her oppressors.

‘Mama, Mama! You must keep still!’ sobbed Susannah as she wrestled to stop her mother from bucking and twisting.

‘Don’t let him hurt my baby!’

The flickering firelight cast Ogilby’s gigantic, hunched shadow onto the bedroom wall.

At last Elizabeth’s screams subsided into moans.

Susannah could not bear to look but mingling with the reek of doctor’s rum-soaked breath she could smell the metallic tang
of blood.

Ogilby reared up. ‘It’s done,’ he said. ‘And you might stop that wailing and show a little gratitude, madam. You’d have been
dead yourself if I hadn’t acted.’

Elizabeth lay still now, her eyes tightly shut, though that didn’t prevent the tears seeping from under her lids.

Susannah, shaking and sobbing, kissed away the tears and smoothed her mother’s hair, murmuring endearments into her ear.

Cornelius stood in a shocked daze, staring into the basin.

Ogilby leaned onto Elizabeth’s belly with one hand and took hold of the umbilical cord with the other and began to pull on
it.

‘Stop!’ Shocked into action, Cornelius grabbed Ogilby’s wrist. ‘She’ll bleed if you do that.’

The doctor shook off Cornelius’s hand. ‘Are you questioning me?’ He pushed out his chin and balled up his fists.

‘You must let the afterbirth come in its own good time!’

‘Rubbish! Let’s get this whole sorry episode over with and then you can bring your wife some beef tea and she’ll soon be sitting
by the fire giving thanks that she is saved. And I can be away to my next patient.’

Before Cornelius could argue, Ogilby tugged at the cord again and the placenta came free. Blood gushed from between Elizabeth’s
legs.

An expression of surprise flitted across Ogilby’s face.

‘Mama!’ Susannah kissed her mother’s forehead but her eyes remained closed.

Goody Tresswell hastily stuffed a handful of rags between Elizabeth’s thighs but almost immediately they were saturated. She
snatched up the bedlinen and wadded it up on top of the rags but in only a few moments that too was scarlet and dripping.

Ogilby took another nip from his flask and watched silently as the midwife bent over Elizabeth and attempted to stop the flow
as it cascaded over the edge of the bed and soaked into the floorboards.

Cornelius sank to his knees, buried his face in his wife’s hair and began to pray, imploring God to save his beloved.

After an interminable time Goody Tresswell straightened up and shook her head. ‘It’s no good, sir. She’s gone.’

‘Damnation!’ Ogilby swigged from his flask again and then offered it to Cornelius, who swept it out of the doctor’s hand with
a bellow of rage before breaking into harsh, racking sobs.

Numbed, Susannah stared at her mother, lying there so white and still. Disbelieving, she put out a finger to touch her skin.
It was still warm. Was this really her mother? Dead?

It was then that she looked into the basin on the table beside the bed. A tiny hand was raised, as if saluting her, from a
sea of congealing blood. But it was the baby’s face which was Susannah’s undoing. The eyes were half-closed and the perfectly
formed rosebud mouth looked as if it was pursed ready to take its mother’s milk.

Susannah started to scream.

Susannah leaned against a wall in Crown Alley, the vomit rising in her throat as she remembered that terrible day. Even after
all this time she could remember every dreadful detail. Martha had been lucky so far; she had no idea of how perilous childbirth
could be. But Susannah had seen it for herself and the prospect of risking her own life in such a way was unthinkable. Marriage
brought children; there was no escaping the fact. She took some deep breaths until the sickness passed and then started walking
again.

Further up the alley a man was shouting and it took a moment for Susannah to realise that he was shouting at her.

‘Get away! Don’t come near me!’

Confused, she stopped in her tracks.

‘I saw you struck down. Get you home and bolt the door behind you!’

‘I’m not ill, merely a little faint.’

‘It’s the pestilence, that’s what it is, and you’re abroad infecting innocent souls.’

‘No, you’re wrong, I promise you!’

‘I saw you taken sick! Get away from me!’ The man’s voice rose as hysteria took hold of him.

‘Truly, I am well!’

The man bent to pick up a stone, threw it at her and then took to his heels and ran away.

There were only a few people in the alley but they began to shout at her too.

As another stone skimmed past her head she turned and fled back the way she had come.

Twenty minutes later, heaving for breath, she arrived at the back gate to the yard. Mathew and John, playing with their bricks
in the dust, looked up at her curiously as she let herself in.

‘They’ve been looking for you,’ said Mathew. ‘Have you been crying?’

‘Mama is cross because you didn’t tell her where you were going.’

‘I’m not obliged to let your mama know my every movement!’

Mathew shrugged and turned back to his bricks.

As she went in by the kitchen door Susannah saw the two boys’ heads close together, watching her.

‘Wherever have you been, Miss Susannah?’ asked Jennet.

‘I went to see Martha.’

‘Well, you’d better get yourself upstairs. The mistress is in one of her moods.’ Jennet went to the sink where she dropped
a handful of sand into the soup pot and started to scour it vigorously, her broad hips wobbling from side to side as she scrubbed.
She glanced back over her shoulder. ‘Tidy yourself up first. Your face is dirty and your hair looks as if it hasn’t seen a
comb since Michaelmas last.’

‘I met some people who thought I was sickening. They threw stones at me and I had to run away.’

‘Never! People are that nervous right now. Brings out the worst in them. Yesterday I heard of a Dutchman who was set upon
and beaten because it was the Dutch who first brought the plague to the city. Anyhow, get yourself upstairs or the mistress
will be throwing
stones at you, too. The master wasn’t pleased he couldn’t find you, neither. By the way, there’s a visitor.’

‘Visitor?’

‘Your friend. That Mr Savage.’

‘Oh!’ A sudden stab of pleasure made Susannah smile. ‘Perhaps you should put on your best dress?’ Jennet gave Susannah a sly
look over her shoulder.

As Susannah hurried upstairs, her father poked his head out from the parlour. ‘There you are! Mr Savage is here.’

‘Jennet told me. I’m just going to wash my face and I’ll join you.’

‘Quickly, then!’

In her bedchamber Susannah poured clean water into the basin to remove the dust and tear-stains from her face. Her underskirt
was dirty from her dash through the streets and she hastily brushed the hem before running downstairs again. She paused outside
the parlour door to pinch her cheeks to bring the colour back and then went in.

‘Susannah, at last!’ said Arabella with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. ‘As you can see, Mr Savage has come to visit us.’

‘How kind of you to call,’ said Susannah.

Henry Savage, dressed in a gold brocade waistcoat and with a froth of lace at his cuffs, came forward to take her hand. ‘I
was determined to wait until you returned home and your father and stepmother have been plying me with excellent cakes and
ale.’

‘Mr Savage has a particular reason for calling upon us today,’ said Cornelius, smiling at her.

It was then that she knew why Mr Savage had come. Her heart began to beat as fast as a drum and her mouth turned dry.

Arabella stood up with a rustle of taffeta skirts. ‘Cornelius, my dear, I think we should allow Mr Savage a few moments alone
with Susannah.’ She swept from the room and Cornelius followed with a backward look of encouragement to his daughter.

After the door had closed behind them, Susannah and Mr Savage were left face to face in awkward silence.

‘I expect you can guess what it is I wish to say to you?’ His teeth were very white when he smiled.

‘No, indeed,’ stammered Susannah.

‘Come, there is no need to dissemble with me,’ he said. ‘You must know that I hold you in high regard? I have been in London
for some weeks now and my importing business is going well. My prospects are good and I intend to put down my roots here.’

‘Do you have no intention of returning to Barbados?’

‘My future is here in London. And to that end I wish to ask if you would do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

Susannah swallowed and looked out of the window. What to say? The thought of escaping from a household where she was little
more than a nuisance was vastly appealing. And she liked Henry Savage. She liked him a great deal. He was charming and cheerful
with a sense of humour that made her laugh. She didn’t love him, of course, but in time she might. But how could she possibly
risk …

‘Miss Leyton; Susannah. May I call you that?’

‘I … I’m not sure you should, Mr Savage.’

‘But if we are to become betrothed it is perfectly allowable.’

She held her breath, her thoughts whirling as if she teetered on the edge of a precipice.

‘Susannah?’

‘It
would
be allowable,
if
we were to become betrothed.’

His smile slipped and he was silent for a moment. ‘Do you not wish it? I had thought …’

‘I am flattered and honoured, of course …’ She wondered if he could hear the rapid hammering of her heartbeat.

‘Your father was sure you would consider my proposal favourably. And Mistress Leyton is delighted at the prospect.’

‘Of course she is! She cannot wait to be rid of me.’

‘I have noticed that your relations with your stepmother are sometimes a little strained and I hoped that the thought of a
household of your own might appeal to you.’

‘Oh yes, it does! You cannot imagine how much I should like that.’

His face fell. ‘Then … it can only be that you do not find the
thought of me as your husband to be pleasing. I am sorry for that since I thought we had become good friends.’

‘We have! I like you very much, Mr Savage. It’s only that …’

‘There is someone else who has captured your heart?’

‘Oh no!’

‘Are you sure? Someone your father would not approve of, perhaps? Believe me: I do know that Cupid does not always fire his
arrows where it is fitting.’

‘There is no one else.’

‘Then please tell me why my proposal makes you look so unhappy.’

Apprehension made her voice sharp. ‘It is not
your
proposal, it is
any
proposal. You see, I am very anxious about … the married state.’

Some of the tenseness left Henry’s eyes and he gave a wide, confident grin. ‘Susannah, my dear, all brides are a little nervous
of the married state. I can promise you that I would always treat you with the utmost gentleness in that way.’

‘It’s not that …’ She bit her lip and looked at her feet to hide her blush. ‘My mother died in childbed,’ she said in a low
voice. ‘It was the most terrible experience. And … and I am frightened to have a child.’Once again she heard in her mind her
mother’s piteous screams.

‘I am sorry for that. But every day thousands of women give birth and live long and happy lives.’

‘I will never forget what happened.’

A fleeting expression of impatience raced across his face. ‘Natur -ally. All I ask is that you give my proposal your consideration.’

She resisted the impulse to run from the room and looked back at him with a steady gaze. ‘I have, Mr Savage. I’m sorry, but
I will never marry.’

‘I see.’ He shrugged. ‘Then I will take my leave of you.’ He turned back to her again, his hand on the latch of the door.
‘I won’t give up so easily, Susannah. I like an independent woman with spirit and you certainly have that. And I would allow
you the freedom to follow your own pursuits. I will come again in one month’s time and see if you have changed your mind.
I bid you good day.’

He was gone.

Susannah sat down and covered her eyes with her hands. Had she made a terrible mistake?

The door burst open. ‘You might well snivel, miss!’ spat Arabella, her fists clenched. ‘How
could
you refuse him? He’s handsome and charming; what more could you ask for, at your age? I doubt you’ll get another offer like
that.’

‘I’m not accepting a proposal simply to please
you
, Arabella. I won’t let you push me out of my own home!’

‘This is
my
home now and there isn’t room for both of us. Can’t you see that you’d be much happier if you had a household of your own?
Though how you’d manage it I can’t begin to imagine. Your father and I cannot have you underfoot any more.’

‘Then if I am not needed, you had better start looking after your own children for a change instead of leaving it all to me
and Jennet.’

Arabella lifted her chin and smiled. ‘Well, I can tell you now that there will be a great deal more effort required from you
in
that
direction in the future.’