The Weeping Ash (32 page)

“Is Mrs. Baggot come back from her shopping yet?” demanded Fanny.

“No, ma'am, I believe not.”

Fanny found the old lady's condition so dismaying that, in spite of Thomas's total interdiction on visits to the garden house, she resolved to go and speak to him about it without delay.

She wrapped a shawl around her and walked out onto the flagged path. As she did so, Will the postboy came whistling down the lane and into the garden.

“Morning, Missus Paget! That's good to see you about again! Here's a letter as'll cost ye a deal of money, for it's all the way from furrin parts!”

Receiving the letter from him, Fanny saw with amazement that it was addressed to herself in a completely unfamiliar handwriting.

“Thank you, Will; go in to Mrs. Strudwick and she will give you the money,” she told him, having none about her, and she broke the seal with hasty fingers.

Demerara, January 1798.

Dear Cousin Fanny (for so I shall call you without ceremony):

I write to extend a Welcome to you and hope that you will be very happy in the Hermitage. I am delighted to hear that you and my Cousin Thomas (whom I have never met) have married, and I am sure you will prove a kind Mother for his orphaned daughters. It pleases me to know that a young and growing Family resides in my house while I am in the West Indies. I trust that you may soon have Children of your own, playmates, perhaps, when they all meet, for my twins, little Charley and Gussie. Speaking of twins, it has Occurred to me that, since I requested you and my Cousin Thomas to be kind enough to receive our other Cousins Priscilla and Carloman Paget into your Household, should they travel to England from the East Indies, you may hardly have house-room enough to Accommodate them besides your own brood. I therefore gladly authorize my Cousin Thomas to build an Extension on to the house (if he thinks fit) and have instructed my Bankers, Messrs Coutts in Leadenhall, to issue funds to cover the cost of the work. I am certain, dear Cousin Fanny, that you will treat our young kinsfolk kindly when they arrive; poor Children, I fear that, up to now in their lives, they have received little but neglect and hard usage, abandoned by their father (my great-uncle Henry) and thrown on the mercy of strangers after the death of their mother. Of their precise age I am not certain.

My husband joins me in extending warm greetings to You and Cousin Thomas:

Juliana von Welcker.

Fanny read this letter slowly, pacing along by the shrubbery, and her first reaction was, What a very great difference there must be between this unknown Juliana and her cousin Thomas. How I wish she were in England, Fanny thought, forgetting that, in such a case, Thomas and his family would be obliged to quit the Hermitage and resign themselves to greatly inferior quarters elsewhere.

During the last months Fanny had not given much consideration to the two unknown cousins presumably making their way from India; the possibility of their arrival had been overlaid by other events, indeed almost forgotten. And yet, for all anybody knew to the contrary, they might appear at any moment. Now, reflecting on the practical aspects of this prospect, she thought: Poor children, this is not a happy household for them to be received into, I wish they might find some kinder harborage, though for my part I shall be glad to welcome them. But I fear that Thomas will be surly, and Bet sullen, and little Patty spiteful… It is too bad indeed that their first experience of England should be among such a disagreeable family.

Having arrived at which depressing conclusion, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and tapped firmly upon the gardenhouse door.

After a considerable pause Thomas's voice called out sharply:

“Who is that?”

“It is I, Fanny. I wish to speak to you.”

“
Frances?
” His voice sounded both astonished and wrathful. “What in the world are
you
doing out here? Chilgrove has not given permission for you to leave the house yet.”

Still the door remained closed.

“It is a very warm day,” Fanny said. “And I have an urgent matter to discuss with you.”

Another longish pause ensued, and then the door was flung open. Thomas stood in the doorway with a decidedly forbidding aspect. He said:

“I am very displeased, indeed, that you should have come out here, entirely counter to the doctor's instructions! Pray return to the house directly! Whatever you have to say can surely wait until dinnertime.”

His eye then fell on the letter in her hand. “What is that letter?”

“It is from our cousin Juliana van Welcker. But that is not—”

Thomas's brows flew together. He said, “How
dare
you open it without permission?” almost snatching it from her hand.

“But it was addressed to me!”

“To
you
?” He was astonished. “Why should she do so? What can Juliana be about, writing letters to
you
?”

“It is merely a very kind, civil letter of welcome,” Fanny explained. “Oh, and she authorizes you to add an extension onto the house if you see fit.”

“Hah!” His expression lightened a trifle. “Very well—
I
will reply to my cousin Juliana about this matter. There was no occasion at all, however, for you to be coming out here on such a trifling matter. Now, pray return indoors at once.”

“But that was not what I came about,” Fanny persisted. “I am very distressed about your mother, Thomas! She does not look at all as she should. I am afraid that Nurse Baggot has been neglecting her shockingly.”

To Fanny's astonishment, Thomas's face became suffused with rage. He glared at her as if she had bitten him.

“Is
that
all? How dare you lay such accusations? Nurse Baggot, I may inform you, is somewhat better qualified than
you
to pronounce on my mother's state. Indeed, she is here now, with me, discussing it.”

He moved a little to one side revealing the figure of Nurse Baggot behind him in the shadows of the room, arms akimbo.

Though very taken aback, Fanny held her ground.

“Why does the old lady look so dirty and uncared for? Her hair has not been done, her clothes need mending—and I am persuaded, too, that she is suffering from the effects of opiates—she seems so drowsy and confused in her mind.”

“Of course she has opiates!” Nurse Baggot came and stood by Thomas. She smiled scornfully at Fanny. “Ma'am, you had best not be interfering in what you know nothing about and what does not concern you.”

“It does concern me.” Fanny's voice trembled a little; the combined hostile regard of her husband and the nurse had begun to make her feel a little sick; how long had they been in there together, so quietly? What could they have been talking about all that time?

She went on as steadily as she could. “It concerns me to see her looking so neglected. It is not right.”

“My dear Frances,” Thomas said sharply, “as Nurse Baggot has said, it is no concern of yours, but since you are so inquisitive I may as well inform you that my mother is beginning to fail in her wits and requires frequent doses of laudanum, otherwise she becomes impossibly quarrelsome and abusive, even violent; for which reason, because she is so difficult and intractable, Mrs. Baggot finds it best to wash her and perform her toilet but once a day, instead of twice. Now, are you satisfied?”

“Does Dr. Chilgrove know about this?”

A white patch appeared around Thomas's mouth.

“Certainly he does—do you dare to doubt my word?”

His look was so menacing that, almost unconsciously, Fanny took a step backward from the doorway and supported herself against the elbow-high stone wall that overlooked the valley.

“No, of course not, Thomas—but she seems quiet enough now—”

“Naturally she is. I have just told you why. She is under necessary opiates. Now, pray leave us!”

At this moment it became apparent to both of them that their conversation was audible, in some degree, to a couple of persons walking below on the valley path. Fanny turned pale. For the pair in question were Mrs. Wyndham, looking more ravishing than ever in a diaphanous dress of gauzy pink and gray mull, and the gentleman who had witnessed the carriage accident, Major Henriques. Observing Thomas, the quick-witted Liz Wyndham inclined her head (adorned with a delicious chip-straw hat) giving no more than a tiny half smile; but Major Henriques doffed his elegant hat and swept Fanny a polite bow.

“Your servant, ma'am! Servant, sir!”

“I am not aware of having the honor of your acquaintance, sir,” said Thomas glacially, and, to Fanny, in a terrible voice, “Frances—withdraw!”

Fanny could only obey, and returned on trembling legs to the house.

When Thomas came in, which he did much later, he sent for Fanny and said at once, “Frances, I wish to know how you came to be acquainted with those people.”

“I met them while with Mrs. Socket, sir.”

“Very well. Then there are to be no more visits to the Rectory. If I had any
idea
—but it is to be expected, if one must live in a town like Petworth, where those who ought to be models to the lower orders display nothing but outrageous vice and infamy!”

Fanny inferred that he was speaking of Lord Egremont.

He said, “Go to your chamber. I will attend you there presently.”

Dry-mouthed with fright, Fanny obeyed him; but she had to wait for several hours before he appeared. She wondered if he intended to beat her; he had threatened to once or twice previously, but her pregnancy had deterred him. Surely he would hardly dare do so now, while she was still under the care of Dr. Chilgrove?

At length he came. To Fanny's dismay, Nurse Baggot followed him, holding a bundle, of material over her arm. She shut the door behind her.

“Remove your garments, Frances,” Thomas said.

She looked from one to the other of them in terror. The scene was all too reminiscent of her first arrival in the house—but
surely
Thomas could not intend anything of the sort that had happened then—not in the presence of that woman?—and while she was still so weak? Dr. Chilgrove had told her most categorically that she must not become pregnant again—

Her thoughts tumbled one over another in horrified confusion.

“Make haste and do what I bid you! Strip off your garments,” Thomas ordered again curtly, and, as Fanny clasped her hands in mute protest, he turned to the nurse. “Lily—get her clothes off her back!”

Mrs. Baggot darted a rather disagreeable glance at Thomas but proceeded briskly enough to undo the fastenings of Fanny's gown and petticoat.

Thomas said coldly, “Since I have for some time, Frances, been aware that I am unable to trust you out of my sight, I have devised this corset for you. I had not purposed obliging you to wear it for another sennight, until you were out of the doctor's care, but finding you so forward and disobedient, there is nothing for it but to bring it into use at once.”

Dumb, astounded with horror, Fanny found herself being fastened into a stiff calico corselet which was laced with extreme tightness up the back and tied in a knot, by Mrs. Baggot's strong fingers, between her shoulder blades, where she could not possibly reach it herself. A thick strap of canvas webbing was drawn between her thighs, pulled up behind her back, and fastened under a leather belt, to which it was locked by some kind of clasp that she could not see, as it was in the middle of her back.

“There!” said Thomas. “You may wear your gowns and petticoats over the top of that. Mrs. Baggot will lace you up each morning—I shall undo you when I come to bed at night. In this way I need be under no anxieties regarding your behavior. Your friend Dr. Chilgrove has forbidden another pregnancy for fifteen months; this garment, I trust, will ensure that his veto is not contravened. Your fine acquaintance up at Petworth House may go on in whatever licentious way they choose—the women—I will not call them
ladies
—cohabiting with grooms, stableboys, or any males they chance to encounter—I do not choose that
my wife
shall behave with a like freedom.”

Fanny gazed at him, totally speechless.

He turned to leave the room, Mrs. Baggot following. The latter had remained silent throughout the scene but now darted one cold, triumphant look at Fanny, who could only gasp, as Thomas opened the door:

“Sir! How can you! It is inhuman! How, in this garment, may I contrive to—” Obey the calls of nature, she wished to say, but delicacy and shame prevented her. Thomas, however, turning in the doorway, replied coolly, understanding her:

“You should have thought of that before your provocation obliged me to take such a step. You will have to rise betimes in the morning. I trust this may teach you, Frances, that I am not to be defied. When I am convinced that you have fully learned this lesson—when you are able to assure me of your humble and dutiful intention to be a loyal and faithful wife—then I may permit you to leave off this remedial garment, which, in the meantime, I trust will be a constant reminder to you of your past faults.”

The door clicked to behind him, and Fanny sank trembling onto the bed. The canvas web cut into her legs; the belt and tight laces nearly choked her. Dr. Chilgrove will never allow this, was her first stunned reaction, but her second was that the doctor, kindly and well intentioned though he was, really had no means of preventing it. Thomas had a perfect right to tie up his wife in a strait jacket, did he so wish; many husbands subdued their wives by even harsher means. Indeed it was not the harshness, which by now she was long accustomed to, but the humiliation that now caused tears of anguish to roll down her cheeks.

It was a considerable time before she could summon up the resolution to walk with stiff and clumsy steps downstairs. The canvas webbing cut painfully into her thighs at every step, the calico corselet pressed so severely on her still enlarged and tender breasts that she was obliged to hold herself ramrod upright as she moved along. Indeed, though she did not realize it, the penitential garment gave her a new sedate and touching dignity.