Chapter Eighteen
It killed Emilia. Every hour she watched her daughter suffer was an hour she suffered.
She’d watched her for two weeks just lie motionless on her bed watching the window absently. Every now and then they could convince her to have something to eat but she never managed more than an egg. She’d barely gotten any sleep and Emilia was very worried for her grandchild.
It was not a normal grieving process. Usually the widow or widower would have an opportunity to say goodbye at the funeral service and then spend time with their friends and acquaintances reminiscing, but all Kitty could do was imagine her husband at the bottom of the Caribbean sea somewhere and she would never see him again.
She’d written to Catherine asking advice on what to do when one loses a spouse and she had replied that she would be there as soon as she possibly can. She’d also written to Jane and Daniel informing them of the goings on and they had also promised to be in London as soon as possible.
Emilia sat in a chair in the corner of Kitty’s room sipping at a cup of tea. The tea was supposed to be for Kitty but she had refused it. She barely acknowledged her presence in the room.
“Grandmamma’s written,” Emilia said softly. “She’s coming to stay, as is Uncle Daniel and Aunt Jane, Sabine as well. They all worry for you my darling. Aunt Kassandra and Uncle Peter also send their love but they can’t be away from their farm at the moment.”
Kitty didn’t respond. She just lay in the exact same position that she had been in for the past two weeks – on her side and staring.
Emilia placed the cup back on the tea plate and walked over to the side of the bed that Kitty was laying on. Her lack of sleep showed. There were bruise – like shadows underneath her dark blue eyes and her brown hair was flat and desperately needed washing. She would never tell her, but Kitty also desperately needed a bath as she had been in the same clothes since she had returned.
“Kitty,” she said soothingly. “I know this is unimaginably painful and that none of us can understand what it is that you’re going through, but you need to know we are here for you,” she said, stroking her cheek softly. Her eyes just seemed to see straight through Emilia. “But it’s not just you that you have to worry about; you also have that little child within you that need’s its mama to care for it. William would want you to take care of your child.” Emilia placed a hand on her daughter’s swollen stomach. She thanked the Lord when she felt the baby kick. Two weeks with little food and sleep and it was still alright.
“I think what William would want is to be alive, mama,” Kitty murmured emotionlessly. “Do not pretend to know his mind.”
Emilia couldn’t help but smile at the fact that her daughter had communicated with her. “I do not pretend to know his mind, darling, but I know for a fact that he would want his child and his wife safe. So I’m going to go downstairs and order a bath for you. I’ll have Mrs Norris prepare some sandwiches and then we shall talk. I do not want to get cross with you, Kitty, but I’m looking out for the both of you.”
Emilia stood up from beside the bed and left Kitty’s room swiftly. On the landing she found one of the maids carrying fresh linen for the guests that were to arrive in a few days. “Could you have some sandwiches brought up for Lady Kitty please, and can you get the footmen to bring up a hot bath for her?”
The little maid nodded and curtseyed. “Yes, milady,” she said softly. She continued onto one of the guest bedchambers before disappearing down the servant’s staircase.
Emilia gathered up the skirt of her black mourning gown as she walked down the stairs. Wearing her mourning clothes felt appropriate. She did not detest it as she had the last time. Mourning Vincent felt unnatural. Mourning a good man and a brave naval hero was right.
“Ah, Em,” said Sebastian as he emerged from the drawing room. “Any progress?” He had been just as worried about Kitty. Whenever Emilia wasn’t in the room, Sebastian would sit with her and account to her the happenings of the day even if she wasn’t listening.
“She spoke to me,” she admitted quietly.
Sebastian’s eyes, which were identical to the glassy ones of Kitty’s, widened. “She spoke?” he repeated in disbelief. “What did she say?”
Emilia wrapped her arms around her husband’s waist and laid her head against his chest. “It was more of a snide comment. I was telling her what William would want in regards to the baby and she basically told me not to be presumptuous.” She couldn’t imagine losing Sebastian. They’d had two and twenty years together and it would never be enough. She felt as though they had only married the day before. It was exactly what Kitty was feeling. She had barely been married and now she was a widow.
Sebastian pressed his lips to her forehead whilst rubbing her back soothingly. “She will know in time that we are only trying to help her. Shall I go and sit with her?”
Emilia shook her head. “I’ve ordered some sandwiches and a bath for her. Once it is ready I’ll go and help her bathe.”
“I received a letter from Henry today asking if he could come home and be with the family,” Sebastian informed her.
“No, he’s to stay put. He can’t do anything here and the only thing he should be concentrating on is finishing his education,” Emilia said firmly. “Where are the others?”
“Little J left like usual saying she was going to Annie’s,” Sebastian sighed.
Emilia rolled her eyes. If Little J weren’t so intelligent she would be worried but she knew her daughter was not in any trouble. She was not one of those girls that go herself in compromising situations. One day, when she wasn’t worrying about a million other things, she would sit her down and demand that she tell her what she was up to. “Did she take a chaperone?”
“No, she begged me to allow her to go alone,” he sighed.
“You really need to learn how to say ‘no’ to the girls,” she scolded.
“I know,” he admitted. “But she just looks at me with those wide blue eyes and I give in. She’s far too clever to get into any trouble anyway.” Sebastian had the same reasoning as his wife.
“And James?” Emilia prompted.
“James is with Miss Sarah Smith. He’s at luncheon with her family. They’re all penny pinchers if you ask me,” he grumbled.
“I don’t like her either,” Emilia concurred. “She fancies this house and his title far more than she fancies him. Should he ever find a girl who has absolutely no care for his title then I shall push for the marriage immediately.”
Sebastian smiled coyly at his wife. “So you never fancied being the Countess once again when it came to marrying me?” he teased.
“Of course I did, darling, it was the only reason I even considered you,” Emilia teased back. Then the guilt filled Emilia when she realised she was flirting with her husband when her daughter was above stairs hurting. “We should not be behaving this way,” she said suddenly. “I will go and check on the sandwiches with Mrs Norris and you go and write to Henry telling him to stay at Eton,” she instructed, quickly dashing down the hall and opening the concealed door that led into the narrow servant’s staircases.
As she arrived at the kitchens she watched as Mrs Norris and her scullery maids were quickly chopping and beating and whisking as they prepared for the evening meals. Emilia had arrived just as the maid from upstairs had arrived from an opposing staircase.
“Mrs Norris,” she said in her soft voice.
“What is it, Bertha, I’m quite busy,” Mrs Norris replied. She had worked at Ethridge for some time, since before Emilia had entered it as a seventeen year old. She was no younger a young lady but she was experienced and had a unique hand when it came to cooking.
“Begging your pardon,” Bertha apologised. “But her Ladyship has asked for some sandwiches to be prepared for Lady Kitty immediately.”
Mrs Norris sighed. “That poor girl,” she said sadly. “I know exactly how she feels. Losing your husband at such a young age can truly destroy you. But no amount of eating will ever fill the void. I was just lucky I had a talent to fall back on.”
Emilia furrowed her brows. How could she have not known this about Mrs Norris? But of course, she was a ‘Mrs’ living in a house without a husband. She just presumed all senior members of staff were ‘Mrs’.
“Alright, Anna, fetch me some bread from the larder,” Mrs Norris instructed. “Sue, bring me a few of the boiled eggs and I’ll make her some egg sandwiches.” Bertha disappeared back up the servant’s stairs and it was only the kitchen staff still in the room.
Emilia stepped out of the doorway and made herself known to the kitchen staff. Mrs Norris and the scullery maids all paused their work and curtseyed.
“Your Ladyship, had we known you were there we –” Mrs Norris started but Emilia interrupted her.
“Do not fret, Mrs Norris,” Emilia said kindly. “You’re not in any trouble, quite the opposite.” Emilia picked up a boiled egg from the bowl that Sue had brought and cracked the shell. As she began peeling it, Mrs Norris, Sue and Anna all stared at her as if she was possessed.
“Milady, you don’t have to do that,” Sue said, offering to take over.
“It’s quite alright, I don’t’ mind. I just wondered if I might have a word with you, Mrs Norris, about your husband.”
Mrs Norris’ brown eyes looked confused. She wiped her hands on her apron and picked up a knife to slice the bread. “What about him, milady?”
“I couldn’t help but overhear that you’d lost him,” Emilia said awkwardly.
Mrs Norris smiled sadly and nodded. “Yes, I did. About two years before you arrived here as a child,” she recalled. “He was a stone mason, you see, and his lungs gave out on him. He was a decade and a half older than I was but I don’t think age matters when it comes to love.”
“My condolences,” Emilia said sincerely. As she began peeling the second egg she asked an awkward question. “How did you get past it?”
“I didn’t,” she replied honestly. “Not really anyway. I still miss him and think of him daily. What Lady Kitty is going through ...” she sighed. “Right now she’s in denial. She’s thinking ‘This isn’t happening, not to him, not to me’ and soon she’ll move onto the crying and the screaming. I broke a lamp and a tea set. But then she’ll start to have a greater grasp on what’s happened. She’ll learn to live with it and she’ll learn to carry on. She’ll have a hole in her heart for the rest of her life but it doesn’t mean you can’t go on living. And she’s going to have a baby. I never got that with my husband. She’s going to have a little piece of Captain Aubrey for the rest of her life.”
Emilia didn’t realise that tears were rolling down her cheeks. “I don’t know how to help her,” Emilia whispered. “She just lies there as if she’s catatonic. I want to call the doctor but I’m afraid that they will diagnose her with melancholia and insist that she be sent to an asylum.”
“Time is what it takes, milady, only time. She won’t be like this forever. We all deal with death differently,” Mrs Norris said as she picked up the eggs that Emilia had peeled and began to mash them.
“It’s true, milady. When my brother died, caught the death, he did, one winter about four years ago, I cried for about a month. Then we learn to get past it,” Anna added. The little blonde scullery maid handed Mrs Norris a jar of homemade Spanish mayonnaise.
Mrs Norris mixed the creamy condiment into the eggs and then began to spoon it onto the bread. “Lady Kitty will be fine, milady. With death comes life, and that could not be truer in her condition.”
William blinked a few times to clear his blurry vision. The room he was in was not familiar. He was lying on a small, single bed with coarse sheets and an itchy woollen blanket. The walls surrounding him were all white yet the window was open. From it he could hear the sounds of the sea. He was on land but he had no idea where.
Beside him was a small table with a few books, his folded up naval uniform and on top was his letter from Kitty. He smiled. He was glad that it had been saved. As soon as the thought crossed his mind the memories of the wreckage came flooding back. How had he come to be on land when the last thing he remembered was being on a sinking ship? Where were his men? How many had been left to the sea?
“Ah!” he groaned as a sharp pain shot up his left leg. His knee felt as if it was on fire. As he went to pull the blanket back Commander Gates came into the room.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said in a warning tone.
“Excuse me?” he snapped.
Even though he was older than William, the Commander’s green eyes were wary. “I wouldn’t take off your blanket just yet, sir, not until I explain what happened.”
“How many were lost, Commander?” he demanded to know. If any had died then he would be a coward. It was a Captain’s place to go down with the ship.
“Three, sir,” Commander Gates said sadly. “Two cadets and a lieutenant.”
William’s heart sank. He was alive when three of his men were dead. “Then why am I here?” he growled. “You should have let me go down with the ship, it was only right!”
Commander Gates’ lips pursed as he stood up straight. “Sir, you were alive when the Jamaican fishing boat came upon our wreck. Had you been dead we would have left you as we wouldn’t have been able to do anything. But you weren’t dead, you were alive. You saved my life, Captain Aubrey, so I saved yours.”
The pain in William’s knee grew worse as he sat there. There must have been some damage to it. “What happened to the pirates?” he sighed, sounding less angry.
“After the Rose was destroyed they went off after the East India ship. They had a good two hours lead on them so hopefully they made it to safety. We can’t know until we get word. I’ve written a letter to the King informing him of the happenings; once he reads it I am sure he will request our immediate return to England. I don’t know about you sir, but I need a break.”
“Commander, what happened to me?” William asked. “My knee feels as if it’s on fire.”
The Commander’s eyes saddened. “I will ask the doctor if he has something that can soothe the pain. I’m afraid that it is not good news, sir. When the mast fell, it landed on your left leg ... the bones ... they shattered. There was nothing they could do to save it.”
William felt his heart pick up as he realised he could not feel his left foot. He looked down to the end of the bed and realised that there was only one elevation on the blanket and that was his right foot. He didn’t care what the Commander said. He pulled back the blanket and stared at the emptiness where his left leg belonged. Below the knee was nothing. It was a bandaged stump. “So instead of leaving me to die with my men with my dignity you brought me back here to live my life as a cripple?” he snapped.
“I should think that you should be grateful!” the Commander gasped. “You are alive! You will return to your wife and still live a happy and healthy life.”
“What life?” he spat. “What life will I have? Kitty will spend the rest of her life being my nurse. Not only have you condemned me to be an invalid you’ve condemned her too!” He leaned forward and placed his palm down on the bed where his leg would usually be. “This will ruin her life.”
“At least you have one,” Commander Gates retorted. “I have to write three letters to the families of those who died at sea. You still get to go home!”
“Four letters,” William corrected. “You will write four letters.”
“Four?” the Commander repeated.
“Yes, four,” William nodded. He would not return home like this. He would not look Kitty in the eye with one leg and have her look at him with regret, with disappointment and shame. He could not see the resentment that would fill her pretty blue eyes when she saw what life she would be condemned to.
“But sir ...” Commander Gates began to protest before William cut him off.
“Better I die and she can live a full life with another then she be forced to live with a man she will grow to hate. It is what’s best.” William leaned over and picked up the letter that she had written for him. He so badly wanted to open it, but he knew if he read her words and heard her voice in his head then he would lose his nerve. “She deserves better than this life.”
“Your wife loves you,” Commander Gates said firmly. “She would not turn her back on you.”
“I know she wouldn’t,” William agreed. “But it does not mean that she will not hate me and hate what life I have tied her to. If I am dead then she can go on living.”
“What will you do?” Commander Gates asked. “If you are dead then you cannot go home.”
“I will return to Kent for a short while when I am able and tell my parents to follow my plan. And then I don’t know. Perhaps I will sail to the orient or join a freak show.”
Commander Gates was not amused. “What about the navy? What am I to tell them? I cannot lie.”
“Tell them the truth but ask them to keep my records confidential. I’m sure they will discharge me, honourable or not.” William stared at his knee and wondered if the joint still worked. Would he be able to use his leg if he had a false one attached to him?
“Are you sure, sir?” Commander Gates checked.
“Yes, Kitty deserves more than me.”
“Alright,” he agreed. “There is a man here in Port Royal that is good with wood carving; he’s offered to make you a leg when you’re feeling ready for measurements. But for now get some rest. I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake and he shall give you something for the pain.”
William just lay back on his pillow, covering himself back up with the bothersome blanket. He instinctively moved his right leg underneath it but could not do so easily with his stump. He would not be able to walk let alone work and support his wife. It was for the best that she thought he was dead. He was being honourable. He’d have to tell himself that every time he thought of her.
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Have all your heart attacks ceased? I scared you for a minute there, didn't I? Come on!! In all my stories, have you ever known me to write a sad ending?
The song on the side is BEAUTIFUL - and I think it describes exactly how Kitty is feeling :)
I hope I've redeemed myself, I don't want any sad comments!
Hope you enjoyed xx