really cares! '
'Don't be a fool! Has she seen a doctor?'
Belinda smiled. Arrogantly, she thought. 'But of course. A good local man who has known Dulcie and RearAdmiral Herrick for years.'
Catherine heard the carriage moving to the front of the house again. Yovell was a good judge.
'I must leave. I'll send for a competent doctor from London.'
Belinda said violently, 'How can you speak like this? I can see for myself what you are, but don't you know what you are doing to my husband's career and reputation?' She was spitting out each word, unable to hide her spite. 'He has fought duels over you before, or didn't you know? One day he will pay for it! '
Catherine looked away and did not see the flash of triumph in Belinda's eyes. She was remembering the VauxhallPleasureGardens, where Bolitho had tossed a contemptuous challenge to the drunken soldier who had fondled her arm as if she was a common whore. And only days ago when he had sent the effeminate Colonel Collyear packing after a similar challenge.
But when she raised her eyes again she saw Belinda's features had gone pale, her sudden confidence evaporated.
Catherine said evenly, 'I know that you have no true pride in Richard. You are not fit to carry his name. And let me assure you that had we two been men I would willingly call you out. Your ignorance is far more offensive than your smugness! '
She walked towards the door. 'Dulcie has a fever. I heard the gardeners speaking of it outside.' Her eyes flashed dangerously. 'Yes, being married to a Spaniard does have its advantages! '
Belinda said, 'You are trying to frighten me.' But there was no defiance now.
'There is an outbreak on the hulks-it sounds like jail fever. You should have been told. How long has she been like that?'
Belinda's hands plucked at her rich gown, confused by the swift change of events.
'A few days. After her husband's ship sailed.' Her voice faltered. 'What of it?'
Catherine did not answer immediately. 'Send for Mr Yovell. He must take a message for me. Do not make a stupid scene of it. All the servants will go if they understand. It would be better if they were kept away from this room.'
'Is it so terrible?'
Catherine regarded her thoughtfully; she would be useless. 'I shall stay with her.'
She remembered Belinda's frantic question. 'It is typhus.' She saw the word bring terror to her eyes. 'I fear she will not survive it.'
The door opened and Yovell tiptoed across the hallway, although he had not yet been summoned. He listened, his round face expressionless while Catherine explained what had happened.
'This is bad, m'lady.' He watched her gravely. 'We should send for expert help.'
She saw his anxiety and laid her hand on his plump arm. 'Even then it will be too late. I have seen it before. Had she been treated earlier…' She looked at the windows; a watery sunlight was breaking through. 'Even then I think it would have been hopeless. She is in pain, and there were traces of a rash when her shawl was moved. I must stay with her, Daniel. No one should die alone.'
Belinda crossed the hallway, her hands agitated. 'I will have to return to London. My daughter is there.'
Catherine said, 'Go then.' As Belinda hurried to the stairs she remarked, 'You see, Daniel? I have no choice now, even if I wanted one.'
'What do you wish, m'lady? Anything, and I shall do it.'
She smiled, but her thoughts were once more in the past. When she had climbed naked into Bolitho's bed when he had been dying of fever, to bring warmth to his tormented body. And he had never remembered it.
'Go to Chatham. We have sworn to have no secrets, so I must let him know.'
She smiled again and thought sadly, As he will eventually tell me about his eye.
Yovell said, 'I shall do that, m'lady.' Then, with a glance at the closed doors, he hurried away.
Belinda came slowly down the staircase, her eyes all the while on the woman in the dull black gown.
By the door she turned and said, 'I hope you die! '
Catherine looked after her impassively. 'Even then he would not come to you.' But Belinda had gone; and she heard her carriage moving rapidly over the cobbles towards the road.
The same servant was back, staring at Catherine as if she were some secret force which had suddenly come amongst them.
Catherine smiled at her. 'Fetch the housekeeper and the cook.' She saw her uncertainty, the beginning of fear perhaps. 'What is your name, girl?'
'Mary, m'lady.'
'Well, Mary, we are going to look after your mistress. Make things easier for her-do you understand?'
The girl bobbed and showed her teeth. 'Make 'er better, like?'
'That is so. Now off you go and fetch them, while I make a list of things we shall require.'
Alone once more, Catherine leaned her head in her hands and closed her eyes tightly to hold back the hot tears which were waiting to betray her. She had to be strong, as she had been in the past when her world had turned into a nightmare. Danger and death were not new to her, but the thought of losing him now was far more than she could bear. She heard Dulcie calling for someone; she thought she had spoken Herrick's name. She clenched her fists. What else can I do?
She seemed to hear Belinda's hatred hanging in the still air. I hope you die!
Curiously, it seemed to give her the strength she needed, and when the two women who controlled Dulcie's household entered she spoke to them calmly and without hesitation.
'Your mistress must be bathed. I shall attend to it. Prepare some nourishing soup, and I will need brandy The cook bustled away and the housekeeper said quietly 'Don't 'ee fear, missus, I'll stay with 'ee till it's over.' She bowed her grey head. 'She's bin good to me since my man died.' She raised her head and looked at.' Catherine steadily. 'He went for a soldier, missus. Fever took 'im from me in the Indies.'
'So you knew?'
The old housekeeper shrugged. 'Guessed, more like. But 'er ladyship said I was bein' foolish.' She glanced around. 'I see she's gone all the same.' Then she looked at Catherine and nodded as if in recognition. 'Your man would know about it, I reckon. Rats leavin' the sinkin' ship.' She unbuttoned her sleeves. 'So let's make a start, shall we?'
'Send someone for the doctor. Good or bad, he should know.'
The housekeeper studied Catherine's gown. 'I got some servants' clothin' you could wear. It can be burned afterwards.'
The word afterwards was still with Catherine when night, like mourning, eventually covered the house.
It was very late by the time Young Matthew turned the carriage through the familiar gates, the air from the sea cold enough for snow. As they had rattled through the town, Bolitho had stared out of the window as if expecting to see changes. He always felt like that when he returned to Falmouth, no matter how long or short his absence had been.
Lights still twinkled from some houses and shops, and when they climbed the hill to his home he saw the cottages, their windows lit by candies, with coloured paper and leaves as decoration. It even felt like Christmas. Catherine, muffled in her cloak and fur-lined hood, watched the passing scene with him; she had never expected to see this place again.
It made Bolitho feel sick just to imagine what could so easily have happened. When Yovell had brought word of Dulcie's terrible illness to the inn where they had been staying near the dockyard, he had been beside himself. More so because the carriage had lost a wheel in the darkness, adding an extra day to her lonely vigil.
Bolitho had not waited for the carriage but had taken a horse, and with Jenour keeping pace beside him had ridden hard all the way to Herrick's house. It had been over even before he reached her. Dulcie had died, mercifully after her heart had failed, so that she was spared the final degradation of the fever. Catherine had been lying on a bed, covered by a blanket but otherwise naked as the old housekeeper burned her borrowed clothes. How easily she might have been infected; she had tended to Dulcie's most painful and intimate needs to the end, had heard her despairing delirium, when she had called out names Catherine had never heard before.
The doctor had eventually attended, a weak sort of man who had been overwhelmed by the manner of Dulcie's
