‘I am easier, thank you. You can leave me now.’
He didn’t answer and she did not hear him move, so she became apprehensive that he might appear suddenly. She knew he wouldn’t but she half wanted him to and this
confusion of feeling made her tense. He seemed so angry and strict with her yet behaved so gently in an intimate situation where a lesser man might have easily taken advantage of her; unless he had lost his desire for her because he had lost his respect for her. The notion jolted through her body as she stared at the smouldering fire. Was she destined to lose everything that was dear to her? She had no one to turn to. How could anyone expect her to go on without the support of her laudanum?
When she was in her nightgown and slippers with her hair just about dry, he spoke again from the other side of the screen. ‘You ought to ride again soon.’
‘Don’t ever ask me to ride like that again,’ she retaliated.
‘It will help to ease your stiffness and you used to enjoy being out on the fell.’
She did, she admitted to herself, and riding was far more exciting than walking. But, oh, everywhere seemed to hurt when she moved.
‘May I remove the screen?’ he asked.
‘If you wish.’
He folded it away and dragged a chair to the fireside. ‘Sit there until your bed has warmed.’
He filled the empty jugs with her bath water and carried them onto the landing, dragged the tin bath through the door then sat with her in the flickering firelight.
‘Dr Brady has advised that you take regular outdoor activity to make you well.’ He thought for a moment before adding, ‘I am sure your son would be very proud to know you when he visits and you can ride with him on the fell.’
‘My son? My son will come here to see me? When will that be?’
‘When you are well enough and you can ride. Let me teach you.’
Beth thought about this and imagined a warm sunny day with her children and a picnic high on the fell with their horses tethered nearby. ‘I shall never be able to master your horse. He’s too big for me.’
She noticed his eyes brighten in the firelight. His features lifted and instead of being cross with her all the time he seemed pleased. If her children were proud of her then she might regain Abel’s respect as well. Abel’s respect was as important to her as being reunited with her children. Her head was clear enough to be sure of that.
‘I’ll find you a pony,’ he said.
‘I have to get well, don’t I, for the sake of my children.’ She reached out to clutch a handful of his clothing. ‘Promise me you will find them and bring them here to me.’
‘I shall do my best to search for them. But I will not bring them to see a mother who cannot face the day without her laudanum.’
Beth’s face puckered with pain. It was when she thought of her children that she needed it most. ‘You don’t know what it’s like for me.’
He said, ‘That’s true. I and others can help but you and only you can overcome your craving. It is your war and you must win it. This is only the first battle.’ He feared that he had been too hard on her.
She tugged at his clothing. ‘You won’t leave me, will you?’
‘I promised Dr Brady I would stay with you until his nurse arrives.’
‘I do not want a nurse. I am not confined to my bed.’
‘Yet you have a constant need for something you call your medicine.’
‘Will she bring my medicine?’ Beth asked hopefully. She could see Abel’s chest rise and fall as, again, he shook his head slowly and deliberately.
‘She will look after you and I – I shall search for your children.’
‘But you will visit me?’ she asked anxiously.
‘I cannot. It is not wise for me to be here alone with you now. You have a husband with a vindictive nature. I do not doubt that he would lock you away if he suspected a liaison.’
‘Then you must write to me.’
‘I dare not. It is so easy for a letter to fall into the wrong hands.’
‘So you will desert me, just as Edgar did,’ she sighed.
‘I shall relate news of my searches to Dr Brady. Will you give him permission to report your progress to me?’
She nodded.
‘Then we have a bargain. I shall find your children and you will stop taking the laudanum.’
The temptation to yell ‘I can’t!’ was confronted by a dream of seeing her son and daughter and she swallowed her defiance. ‘Very well,’ she answered.
‘Perhaps you can let go of my clothes now.’
She did, and straightened the fabric, smoothing it out with her fingers.
‘I plan to leave as soon as your nurse arrives. She is travelling by the railways from Scotland and will arrive here in a pony and trap. The pony will need exercise. He will suit you well as a mount and you will enjoy riding him.’
Beth tried to shift her position and groaned. ‘Or perish in the process.’
‘May I try something that I have used on exhausted beasts to ease their suffering.’
Her hopes lifted. He had a potion of some sort for everything. ‘Very well,’ she agreed.
‘Climb into bed.’
That sounded more than welcome to her aching limbs and she obeyed, stopping only to remove the warming pan. He took it from her and laid it in the hearth. She moaned and groaned with every movement. As she rested her head on the pillow she was aware again of a soothing aroma and yawned.
‘I beg your pardon,’ she said automatically. How could she be so tired? She had already slept for hours today.
‘Don’t fight your fatigue. Close your eyes.’
He peeled back the bedcovers leaving only the bed-sheet in place. It was not a proper thing to do, he knew, but he was sure it would help her and who was to know? Nonetheless, Dr Brady had not suggested it. And – and he realised as her breasts rose and fell under the sheet that this was a mistake. He wanted her. He desired her as a woman and wanted to love her as her husband ought. As he gazed at her form he realised that he was too familiar with every inch of her already. Was he doing this for Beth’s recovery or to indulge his own desires to be close to her?
Dear Lord, he should stop this minute. She was a married woman. She belonged to another man, no matter that Abel had no respect for him. She was sick and vulnerable and needed his help. He ought not, would not take advantage of her weakened condition. She needed the help of his strong hands to ease her aching limbs. And he loved her. He must be strong and fight his desires. But, he was so, so tempted to remove his clothes, climb in beside her and show her that love.
His voice was barely a croak. ‘Turn onto your front.’
‘Oh no, please don’t make me. I ache too much.’
‘Very well. I’ll start with your feet. It will hurt you to begin with but I promise you it will ease your pain.’ He began to massage her flesh between his thumb and fingers, working from her ankles towards her thighs.
She was alarmed at first. How dare he put his hands on her in this manner? She protested and tensed until he urged her to relax and not fight his fingers. She had to trust him and when he began to work on her other leg as if he were kneading bread, she did. He had not changed, she had. She had become the suspicious harridan that no one could love. She glanced at him from under her lashes. His face was grim as though he was concentrating on a distasteful task. Did he hate her so much? Surely if he did, he would not be helping her in this way? Perhaps he had a troubled conscience about – about what?
It didn’t make sense. In fact nothing in Beth’s turmoil of joy and sadness made any sense except – except that she did not want Abel to leave her. Not again. Not ever. Of course he would. He had to. He had a life of his own and – and she wanted him to find her children. That was the worst part about being aware of life again. She was aware of the joy of being with Abel once more and it could not last. How would she survive without him if she did not have her laudanum?
When he had finished his work on her limbs he said, ‘You must turn over now,’ and she obeyed. She checked her moaning and groaning, feeling proud of a new-found control and he soothed the muscles over her back until she drifted away into slumber.
The sound of the cock crowing woke her although it was still dark. The bath and its paraphernalia had gone, along with her grubby gown and stockings. She could not believe that she had slept so soundly all through the night. Miraculously, her body and limbs moved more easily and she searched for clean garments in the bedchamber.
Two years later Abel Shipton spent an evening in the tap room of the Redfern Arms, where barrels were set up so that labouring men could slake their thirsts at the end of the working day. For the price of a few jars of ale he had learned that all was not well for Edgar Collins and his family. He was estranged from the estate and the current Lord Redfern had taken a ward as his heir.
He had not given Edgar’s titled family much thought since he had been summarily and unjustly accused by the harridan of High Fell Farm. Indeed, it had proved to be the making of him as he followed the drovers’ trails to sell his flock for a good price in the smoke-filled South Riding. His nose for negotiation ensured that his golden guineas mounted as his reputation grew.
However, his money had proved to be of little use in his searches for Beth’s children. Lawyers did not answer his letters and why would they when his questions were none of his
business. He could hardly say on whose behalf he acted. But he did not give up. Seeing Beth Collins at her worst and then her struggles to recover had rekindled a smoulder in his heart which had burst into a flame as she fought to regain her health and strength. Yet he dared not visit her or even write for he knew that to risk her reputation further would jeopardise her already precarious existence.
That night in his chamber at the Redfern Arms, he lay awake feeling an unholy pleasure in the continued estrangement of Lord Redfern’s niece and great-nephew, who, he had believed until now, was his heir. Lord Redfern’s ward, Abel found out, was being schooled to be the future master of the Redfern estate. The harridan, he knew, had stayed in Settle but her son, he heard, had a house somewhere in the Riding although noone, it seemed, had ever set eyes on his wife and children.
‘Has his wife passed on?’ he had enquired with a feigned innocence.
He was answered by a series of shrugs until he pressed for more.
‘’Tis said she is an invalid who had to live in the Dales for the air.’
‘The Dales, you say?’
‘He has a farm there.’
‘Does he indeed?’
Well, Edgar Collins probably thought his bank still owned High Fell Farm and Abel had been particular for the bank not to disabuse him of that notion. But High Fell mortgages had been his first purchase from lenders willing to sell. As soon as he had enough gold he relieved the bank of the mortgages through an agent and leased out the land to Fellwick Hall. He arranged, also, for the Hall to send over a
lad to work the farmyard and garden that was left. The only proviso was that his name was kept out of all negotiations.
Strangely, he did not care who knew any more. It had been an immature action but it had made him feel better at the time. He had expected, along with many of the regulars at the Redfern Arms, for Edgar to have inherited by now and his concern had been for Beth and her children. Tomorrow, he was riding towards Skipton for dinner with Dr Brady.
‘Is Beth well?’
‘Abel, will you allow me to remove my overcoat first?’ Simon Brady shook off the rain and handed his riding coat to a waiting manservant.
The coaching inn was between Skipton and Bradford but it was worth the ride for the excellence of its dinners. The manservant showed them to a private dining room with a good fire and plenty of candles.
‘Have you news of her children?’ Simon asked as they sat down.
‘I wish I had, but they seem to have disappeared.’
‘Both of them?’
‘I guessed the girl would be difficult to find, but not the boy. I have given up on lawyers and I’m following new leads myself. Now, how is Beth?’
Simon grimaced. ‘Not good. She – we – had expected you to have at least found where her son was by now. She needs to have hope.’
Abel frowned. He was doing his best but replies to his letters took so long, if they arrived at all. ‘Has she stayed away from the laudanum?’
‘I gave her no choice and it has been a real struggle for her at times, especially in the early days. My nurse has seen
her through the worst and Beth herself has made a huge effort. But for every two steps forward there is usually one step back.’
‘Surely that is progress of a kind?’ Abel asked.
‘Slow progress I’m afraid. The two women ride together and have become friends. Beth has grown stronger in mind and body but she constantly asks about you and her children.’
‘She hasn’t given up hope for them, has she?’
‘Interestingly, she has not. She believes you will find them and – and she has a very high regard for you, Abel. She seems sure you will keep your word so you must not let her down in this.’
‘I shan’t. Tell her I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll find out what happened to them.’
‘Which is not quite the same as saying you will find them,’ Simon cautioned. ‘Have
you
given up hope on them?’
‘No! I believe I am getting closer. Her son may be with his father but neither is living at the Abbey.’
‘And her daughter?’
‘I don’t know. She could have been farmed out anywhere. Edgar disowned her but he may know where she went. He is the key to finding them, I’m sure.’
‘Well, if there is anything I can do to help, you only have to ask.’
Abel considered this offer and lowered his voice. ‘I – I should like to see Beth,’ he said.
Simon shook his head. ‘I shouldn’t advise it until you have welcome news for her. Anything less might set her back for months.’
‘Keep her safe for me,’ Abel responded.
Later that night, Abel reflected on this conversation. He had to find Edgar to locate Beth’s children. But Edgar was
unlikely to allow any contact with him, and Edgar had learned from an expert how to exclude people. Who else might know what had happened to the children? Abel racked his brain for memories of the day Beth’s daughter was born. He remembered a surgeon, a wet nurse and a vicar. It was then that he recalled Edgar’s close friendship with the vicar, the one he called Milo. The clergy! Of course! It was then that Abel decided on another line of investigation.