Break of Dawn

Under other circumstances such disrespect from an inferior would have made Jeremiah incensed, but although he said icily, ‘I think that’s more than enough, Bridget. Go and pack your belongings and I will see the three of you in my study in an hour,’ inside he was greatly afraid that his wife had indeed ‘done for the bairn’. There had been no movement from within the morning room, not a sound, and the child had been unconscious when he had seen her. What if she wasn’t unconscious but dead? Dear God, don’t let it be so. They would never survive the scandal.

When the servants trooped away, Patrick with his arm round his daughter who was sobbing audibly, Jeremiah waited until he was sure they were in the kitchen before taking a deep breath and opening the morning-room door. The child was lying exactly as he had seen her before. Through forcing the door, the locking mechanism was broken beyond repair so he dragged Mary’s small bureau against the door to prevent anyone bursting in. The way the maid had carried on, he wouldn’t put anything past her.

Kneeling down, he stared at the small body and when he saw the child was breathing the relief was so great he put his hand to his head for a few moments. He could see now that some of the blue weals had bled and a wave of sickness swept over him, but he forced himself to gently turn her over on to her back and still she didn’t stir. The little shorn head with a few tufts of hair remaining was shocking enough, but the child had a livid bruise on her forehead as though her face had been repeatedly banged against the floor, and maybe it had, he thought grimly.

Carefully he slid his arms under Sophy’s legs and shoulders and lifted her on to one of the two dark green sofas, propping her head on a cushion, at which point the heavily lashed eyes fluttered and opened and the child gave a soft moan as she shrank from him.

For the life of him Jeremiah didn’t know what to do or say. The child needed a doctor, that much was evident, but how could he call Dr Lawrence to the house and let him see the state of her? When a knock sounded at the door in the next instant and Patience’s voice called softly, ‘Father? Father, can I come in?’ again relief was paramount. He heaved the bureau to one side and opened the door, moving it back once his daughter had entered.

Patience was beset by a whole host of emotions as she walked over to the sofa and knelt down beside her cousin. All her life she had resented Sophy’s presence in the house. She knew her brothers liked Sophy more than her, even David who was her twin. Whenever the boys were home they sneaked down to the kitchen at every opportunity in spite of it being out of bounds, and the way they were with Sophy – gently teasing her, laughing with her, telling her stories of their life at school – was so different from their attitude to her. And Sophy was clever too. She was their governess Miss Brown’s favourite, even though Miss Brown tried to hide it. When the three of them had read A Midsummer Night’s Dream this year and Sophy had acted out her part, Miss Brown had told her she was wonderful and had a natural ability for getting inside a character which was a true gift. They had been going to read another of Shakespeare’s plays next year but her mother had had a blue fit when she had discovered how Miss Brown was teaching English literature and had forbidden it. But it was Sophy’s appearance – her large beautiful eyes, her skin, her hair, especially her hair – which she hated the most. But now . . .

Patience put out her hand and touched Sophy’s arm, and like her father she felt physically sick at what her mother had done.

‘It’s all right,’ she whispered. ‘Mother’s not here.’ Sophy shivered, whether from the mention of her attacker or because she was cold, Patience didn’t know, but she said, ‘Shall I get you a blanket?’ but received no answer from the colourless lips in the chalk-white face. ‘I’ll get you something.’ She stood up and as she did so, said in an aside to her father, ‘She needs Dr Lawrence.’

‘That’s out of the question.’

‘But Father—’

‘Can you see to her? If I carry her up to the guest room out of the way, can you take care of her? I can bring you what you need and I’ve got some laudanum left from the bottle I had for the abscess in my tooth. A few drops of that will settle her.’

‘But what if—’

‘Please, Patience.’

She hadn’t heard that note in her father’s voice before and more than anything else it brought home to Patience the seriousness of the situation. Her heart in her mouth, she looked down at Sophy for a long moment. She had enjoyed the times her cousin was in trouble with her mother and had done her part in seeing Sophy got the cane on lots of occasions, but this – this was altogether different. Patience didn’t have the vocabulary to describe how she felt, but she knew that this last act of her mother’s had gone far beyond merely chastising her cousin. ‘All right.’ She nodded. ‘Shall I tell Bridget to light a fire in the guest room and bring some warm water, soap and towels?’

‘The servants are going shortly.’

‘Going?’

‘I have dismissed them, it’s the only way. I will see to their replacements as soon as I can, but until then we will have to manage.’

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