The Master of Winterbourne

‘I told her something of your husband's illness yesterday. I will say I have asked you not to come yet in case of contagion. She must not be worried.’

Letty arrived as Henrietta finished a brief note to Lawyer Stone. She made no attempt to hide her fears or the seriousness of Matthew's illness. ‘Take this to John.’ She pressed Matthew's signet ring into the soft wax, then handed the sealed letter to the girl. ‘Tell him to send a groom to Hertford with all dispatch.’

Letty took the letter with a solemn nod and hurried from the room. Henrietta stood with one hand on the hangings, looking out over the orchard at the lowering purple sky. There was snow heavy in the clouds and the first silent flakes drifted past the panes as she watched. Although it was only morning she pulled the curtains closed, shutting out the bleak coldness, and put another log on the fire.

Then she settled on the stool and laced her fingers in Matthew's lax ones again. All she could do for him now was to stay with him and hope that even though he was unconscious some part of him was aware of her touch, of the strength of her will and her love.

It was early the next evening that the crunch of snow under coach wheels alerted her to the arrival of Lawyer Stone. Henrietta looked out and saw to her immense relief that he was handing her aunt from the coach.

She hesitated by Matthew's side, caressing his unresponsive cheek, then wrenched the door open and ran to the head of the stairs. ‘Aunt!’ Despite herself her voice broke and she could not go on.

There was a flurry of skirts on the stairs, then her aunt was enfolding her in her arms, her cold cheek pressed against Henrietta's flushed one. ‘My darling child, how is he?’

‘Come and see.’ Henrietta tugged her aunt's gloved hand. ‘Mistress Perrott says he will die, but we will not let him will we? Not now you are here.’

‘Do not worry, child, I am here. We will look after him together.’ Her confident voice died away as she saw Matthew for the first time. She struggled, but was not quick enough to mask her dismay and shock.

‘Aunt?’ It was a hoarse supplication, then Henrietta forced herself to face the reality. ‘You think he is going to die too.’

‘It is in God's hands.’ The older woman took her by the shoulders and gravely looked into her eyes. ‘We will pray, all of us. Now, go to your room and rest. Send Letty to me. If there is any change I will call you; you will do your husband no good by making yourself ill.’

She dropped her cloak and hat on the chair and pushed back her cuffs. ‘Trust me with him, child, I know how much you love him. Now go!’

From her old chamber window Henrietta could see the light escaping from around the drawn hangings in the master bedroom. The snow swirled thickly in the courtyard and the whole night was muffled and silent. If she had left it any later to send for them they would not have got through from Hertford.

Her aunt was right; she needed to rest. Letty had laid her nightdress to warm by the fire, but Henrietta ignored it. She had had scant sleep, and that crouched by Matthew's side. She would just lie on the bed and close her eyes for a while…

*

It was cold when she woke, the room full of white light reflecting off the snow outside. The fire was a mass of soft grey ash and the candles had guttered and gone out in the sconces.

‘Matthew!’ Henrietta started up off the bed. How could she have slept so long?

There was a tap at the door and Letty opened it cautiously. ‘Mistress, I thought you had gone to bed.’ She looked at Henrietta's crumpled gown and dishevelled hair in dismay.

‘Letty, is he… all right?’ She hardly dared ask.

‘Unchanged. Mistress Stone has not left him all night. No, there is no need for you to go to him yet.’ She put a restraining hand on Henrietta's arm. ‘I will bring you hot water and a fresh gown, then you can break your fast with Lawyer Stone.’

The lawyer stood up as she joined him in the small parlour. The servants had laid a table there by the fire to escape the draughts in the great hall and he was toying with bread and bacon.

‘My dear girl.’ He held out his arms and she walked into his embrace. He hugged her so tightly that he almost squeezed the breath from her and she realised how worried and concerned he was. ‘Now sit down here by the fire, and eat this.’ He cut her a slice of bacon and buttered bread, pushing the plate into her unresisting hands. ‘Eat up, you need your strength.’

To her surprise Henrietta was hungry. The bread and meat might have been sawdust for all the taste they had, but still she finished them ravenously, washing them down with a mug of small beer.

‘That is much better, now there is colour in your cheeks again,’ Lawrence Stone said approvingly. ‘In your condition you must take great care of yourself.’

‘You know? Did Letty tell you?’

‘She thought we should hear of it straight away. She is a good girl, that one, a good head on her shoulders.’ Suddenly his bluffness fell away, and he began to fiddle with his ale mug, his eyes averted. ‘There are things we must talk of Henrietta. I know it is painful for you…’

‘You mean, what I must do if Matthew dies?’ Her voice was quite steady and she met his eyes direct. ‘There is no need; he is not going to.’

‘Henrietta, you must not deceive yourself. I admire your courage, but we must face the facts of the case.’

‘No, I will not accept that Matthew might die.’ Henrietta stood, one hand on his shoulder. 'I know you mean well, but I cannot give up. If only he were conscious long enough for me to tell him I am carrying his child, it would be enough to save him.’ She paused at the door. ‘I shall go to him now and relieve my aunt, she must be very tired.’

Susan was holding a sponge to Matthew’s lips, patiently attempting to coax a few drops of liquid between them. The pungent aroma of spirits met Henrietta's nostrils as she closed the chamber door quietly behind her.