The Butchered Man Read online

  “So you went to Mrs Lepaige of your own accord and asked her for something to bring on a miscarriage? When you first had a girl who was pregnant here?”

  “Yes, sir, I suppose I did.”

  “Why did you ask her, may I ask?”

  “Because she is clever at these things. Everyone knows it. So I asked her to help.”

  “You did not feel impertinent asking a lady such as Mrs Lepaige for such a thing? You did not think she would rebuke you for it?” said Giles.

  “No, sir. Because she had helped us all before.”

  “How, precisely?”

  “She gave Miss Marian some herbs to make her courses less painful. I could see she understands these things. She was happy to help me.”

  “But your mistress did not suggest this to you?”

  “No, sir, I’ve told you she did not. This is nothing to do with her. Nothing.”

  “And this is all you have given to Abigail?” he said picking up the tin and shaking at her. “You did not give her anything else?”

  “No, sir.”

  “You are sure of that?”

  “Yes, but I do not know what Mrs Lepaige may have given her. She was with her today, you know.”

  ***

  He returned to Miss Hilliard’s office where she sat at her writing desk. He put the tin down in front of her.

  “Do you know what these are?” he asked.

  She picked up the tin and opened it. She sniffed the contents.

  “Some herbal remedy or other,” she said. “Something that Mrs Lepaige gave to Fulwood?”

  “Well, that is right, certainly,” Giles said. “But you don’t know what they are?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Please answer my question. What are they?”

  “I do not know.”

  He closed the tin, unconvinced.

  “Tell me the truth,” he said. “It is not necessary for you to lie to me any more. Mrs Fulwood has told me what she did. She tells me she acted entirely of her own accord. That she got these herbs from Mrs Lepaige and gave them to Abigail to induce a miscarriage. Is that true? Did she act alone?”

  She got up from her writing desk and sat down on the sofa, turning a little away from him.

  “So?” he pressed on.

  “I have been dreading this,” she said softly. “That first day when you came to me and suggested that something had been given to Abigail, I questioned her and she told me everything. But I promised I would protect her. After all, she did what she did for me. She was only trying to help me in my work and she is so loyal and so loving! What could I do but protect her? I swore to her I would not tell you anything. I know I should not have done so, I know but... Oh, oh, you have no idea how this has tormented me! How I have wanted to tell you but...”

  “You have known this all along, then,” he said.

  “Yes,” she said, with a violent sob, “yes, I have! How will you ever forgive me? I know I have lost your respect entirely.”

  For a moment she put out her hands in a gesture of surrender to him, and then she turned away completely, doubled up now, overcome by her tears, her face buried in her hands. She was awash with misery and contrition, drowning in a pool of her black skirts, on the brink of falling from the sofa.

  He had meant to be angry with her, detached and angry, but her distress was more than he could bear.

  “Hush now, you do not need to do this to yourself, for God’s sake.”

  He sat down beside her, and in attempting to get her to sit up, was obliged to put his arm about her waist. “I beg you,” he said and reached out and laid his hand on her wet, flushed cheek. “Calm yourself.”

  He had meant only to steady her and to fasten her back to the mooring of reason. It had not been meant as anything more than a simple gesture of kindness, but the moment he had done so, he knew he wanted it to be more.

  She reached up and pressed her hand over his, pulling it away from her cheek. Giles thought for a moment that she meant to thrust it away from her and to punish him for his impertinence, but to his astonishment she wrapped her fingers about his hand and bent her head over his open palm, and then, before Giles could do anything, she had, with the merest hesitant touch of her lips dropped a single, almost imperceptible kiss upon it. She lifted her head and looked across at him again, her eyes glassy with tears, her mouth trembling, her fingers still fast around his. She had understood.

  He twisted round his hand, taking possession of hers, clapping his other hand over it and pulling it towards him. He kissed her folded knuckle, and lingered there, drinking in the scent of her skin.

  That was enough for him. That fatal wound inflicted, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her now on the lips, feeling her yield against him, tumbling into his power, as he himself fell into hers.

  They were enchanted, enslaved by each other. He had never imagined a total conquest, never let himself dare imagine such a thing, yet here he lay, twisted together with this beautiful, complicated woman.

  She yielded herself up to him. She knew what it was he was offering her and she assented to it, with her gestures, her responses. It was for all the world as if she was a married woman. Where had she learnt this, he found himself wondering. Some men would have been shocked to find a spinster act the wife so easily. He was startled but it did not throw him off his stride. It gave him pleasure, because he was aware of her own pleasure. Her eagerness matched his own. There was surprisingly little awkwardness.

  He was half in tears, as he reached his climax, the sweetness of it and of her face almost too much for him.

  He looked into her eyes as they lay on the sofa in disorder. He stroked her forehead, pushing back the hair from her face, wondering if he had ever seen such beauty, or felt such intensity in the mere act of being alive. For how long had he been dead? For how long had his heart beat so slowly, so coldly? Too long.

  Dear God, what happens now? Dear God, what do I do? he asked himself, as he gathered her once again into his arms, and she lay against his breast, breathing hard.

  It was not obvious where the clear path of duty lay. He had left behind that simple world the moment he had pressed his hand to her cheek.

  She had made a grave error. She had done a foolish thing and she had lied to him. But he could no longer look at the thing objectively, not in the cold calm terms of Stone’s ‘Guide for Justices’.

  I will resign and we will go away. It was the only answer. I will shield her. I will take her faults as my own.

  What income he had remaining from his father’s estate and the interest on the sale of his commission, he would make over to his brother in order that Laura might continue to be cared for. His salary at Northminster had been only a useful increment. He had never used the full measure of it, living austerely as he had done. There were no outstanding debts. He was a free man. It would not be easy to make a living abroad and they would not be able to live any more than respectably. There would be no question of any sort of position and there would be a horrible scandal. His family would be utterly disgusted with him.

  He knew that some people would say that such a life would be punishment enough for their sins. It would be at best ambiguous. It would not be comfortable, and any children born to them would never be able to take their place in the world. The thought of a crop of Vernon bastards gave him a slight shudder but it was, he told himself, the objective fact that repelled him. The reality of it, of having a child, a thing of which he had long given up any hope, whatever the social or financial disadvantages, would more than compensate for the shame.

  They would be as man and wife. It would and could be nothing less than a marriage. If he endeavoured to do his duty, then in the eyes of God, they might find some measure of forgiveness for it.

  “I must go now,” he said, but he had no wish to leave her. In fact he wanted her to leave at once with him. He thought of the trains steaming out of Northminster, so fast, so efficient. They could take a train to Newcastle and take ship
somewhere with only the clothes they stood up in.

  She nodded and stroked his cheek. He got up and pulled her to her feet as well, and circling her waist, kissed her passionately again. He wanted her again in that moment, urgently, with all the lust of a boy. He felt no more than seventeen. It was as if there was new blood coursing about his body.

  But the little clock on her desk began to chime.

  “I must go,” he said, breaking away from her. “But I will be back,” he said.

  “Do you promise?” she said.

  “I promise,” he said and sealed his oath with another kiss.

  Chapter Thirty

  As Giles entered the hall of the Treasurer’s House, Lambert came out of the downstairs bedroom where Abigail had been laid. He had his stole about his neck and was carrying a prayer book and there was something about his demeanour that made Giles stop in his tracks.

  “She’s not... is she...?” he asked. Lambert nodded slowly. “When?”

  “A little over ten minutes ago,” he said. “It’s a terrible thing. I examined her for confirmation, you know.”

  “You knew her?”

  “Only slightly, but I recognized her the moment I saw her. Poor, poor girl.”

  “When did you meet her?” Giles asked, his throat dry.

  “Easter before last, I think.”

  “More than a year ago,” said Giles dully. “Are you certain?”

  “Quite. Stokes, who was chaplain there, asked me to come out and examine the class. She was a lively little thing. Miss Hilliard’s pet pupil, I should say. She sang very nicely, as I recall,” Lambert added, shaking his head.

  And then through the open door way he caught sight of Carswell kneeling on the bed, with the girl in his arms.

  “Come now, come away and rest a little,” Sally was saying to him, her hand on his shoulder.

  “I did everything I could for her. I did,” Carswell was muttering.

  “Yes, yes, you did,” said Sally, gently detaching him from the girl. “I saw you.”

  “But I only made it worse.”

  “No, no, of course you didn’t.”

  “If only I hadn’t done that procedure. It was foolhardy. I thought... That isn’t supposed to happen. This is not supposed to happen!”

  “Death is a fact of life, Mr Carswell,” Sally said. “And Abigail is at peace now, with our Lord. I’ll send for Mrs Weldon. She will do the laying out.”

  “No, I shall have to do a post mortem,” said Carswell. “I cannot sign a certificate as to the cause of death. I will not know until... until...” He was breathing hard.

  “You must come away now.” Sally led him across the room to the fireside, and stood, holding both his hands in hers. It was as if she was comforting one of her own children. “Abigail is with God.”

  “I don’t believe that!” he exclaimed. He pulled away, turned and saw Giles. “So what did she tell you this time?” he went on, striding towards Giles. “What sorry tangle of excuses did she palm you off with, then? You can’t believe a word that heartless bitch says now, surely? Even if she has your prick twisted round her little finger!”

  With some difficulty Giles restrained himself from striking him across the face. Instead he took a deep breath and said, quietly, “You will do my sister the courtesy of guarding your tongue, sir. This is neither the time nor the place for this conversation.”

  “Then when is, pray, sir? When?” said Carswell, squaring up to him. “Look at that poor creature there! Look at her and see if your conscience has nothing to say about the matter!”

  Sally came up again, and gently drew Carswell to one side, her arm thrown over his shoulder.

  “Hush now, Mr Carswell. Think of Abigail. There is no respect for her in brawling. Come with me now. You will have your answers, but all in good time,” and with a discreet wave of her hand she dismissed Giles as she led Carswell out of the room.

  Lambert went into the room and began to draw the sheet over the girl, but Giles stopped his hand, and looked down at the blenched, emaciated face of the dead girl.

  “Carswell is right,” he said. “I have done badly in this, Lambert, very badly indeed.”

  ***

  Giles returned to The Unicorn only to find Mrs Lepaige waiting for him. She was pacing the public office, her bonnet in her hands, winding up the ribbons in her gloved fingers. The desk sergeant said she had been waiting there an hour or so.

  “Major Vernon, may I speak to you? I know it is late, but I could not sleep. After we spoke earlier –”

  “You are alone? You have not come with your husband?”

  She shook her head.

  “Do you wish to speak to me in confidence?” he asked. “I only ask, because I do not think I can grant you that privilege.”

  “No, I do not ask for that. I only want to tell you what I should have told you before.”

  “It might wait until tomorrow. You ought to have you husband here, and perhaps a solicitor. That might be for the best.”

  “I wish to speak now,” she said. “I will not hide behind a lawyer, or my husband. I have let matters go too far for that. I know it is an inconvenience, but I cannot let it rest.”

  “Then I will get a clerk and one of the inspectors. We will have a proper record taken for your future protection.”

  “I think you are a good man, Major Vernon,” she said.

  He took her upstairs to his office which was bitterly cold. He made up the fire and settled her in a chair. By the time the men had come in, it was becoming tolerably warm, and Mrs Lepaige leant forward and said, “Where should I begin? I hardly know. It is all so tangled up in my mind.”

  Giles felt his own exhaustion then and his head was throbbing from yesterday’s adventure. But he knew it would be some time before he got any sleep.

  “The girl, Abigail, perhaps?” he said.

  “Yes, yes, of course, Abigail. You see, when you said she had miscarried...” She broke off and looked away a moment before looking back at him. “There is something important you must know about me, Major Vernon, and that is that I have been in the habit of helping the women of this city in a particular way. I consider what I have done to be an act of charity, that is what has always motivated me, but I am aware that many people do not see it in such a light and that my actions are not strictly legal.”

  “You will have to be more specific,” said Giles.

  “Yes, of course,” she said. “You must first understand, Major Vernon, I have a rational turn of mind. I was raised to be so. My father was a natural philosopher, and my brother is a physician. I should have loved to pursue my scientific studies as a man does, at the University. I think I would have chosen medicine just like my dear brother. It seems the noblest profession to me – the pursuit of science combined with service to humanity. So that is what in my way I have striven to do. I have, after long study, perfected a system, you see, to help women, at a critical moment.”

  “You mean an abortificient?”

  She hesitated. “You have heard of this already?”

  “Yes, people have spoken to me about this practice of yours.”

  She nodded.

  “You must understand, my preparation is not so violent as other methods. It works before the child has quickened, only a month or two into the pregnancy at most. I consider the benefits outweigh the harm of it. There are so many families where the difference between destitution and survival is another mouth to feed. That has been my motivation.”

  “And what is your preparation?”

  “A mixture of herbs. Some have been used for many years by women for this purpose, but I have formulated them into an effective combination, the lowest possible dose that may be given safely.”

  “So usually, then, you only give the woman in question a single dose?”

  “Yes, only what is absolutely necessary. And I supervise the whole matter.”

  “And it is only this herbal formula of yours that you give to these women?”

 
; “Yes.”

  “You have never provoked abortion by any other method?”

  “You mean with darning needles and so forth?” Giles nodded. “No, never. Never! That is an extremely risky thing to do. It cannot be justified. I have known of women dying from such rash acts. I would never dare do such a thing.”

  “And did you take any payment for these services?”

  “Never.”

  “So tell me, how did you come to treat the girls at Brinklow?”

  “Miss Hilliard and I had become friends. She told me that she wished there was a safe way to induce miscarriages because she hated to send away those girls she discovered to be pregnant and undo the work of their reclamation. When she told me this, I felt duty bound to confide in her what I had discovered.”

  “And how many abortions did you provoke at Brinklow, can you recall?”

  “Four. But not that of Abigail Prior. I supervised each one until that time.”

  “And they all recovered?”

  “Yes, very satisfactorily. One is even engaged to be married now. I see her sometimes.”

  “And Abigail?”

  “I think she was given the herbs too late. They did not discuss it with me. They did not even tell me she was with child. I should have been clearer and firmer with her. I would have reminded Miss Hilliard that there were only limited circumstances in which it was safe to act. I ought not to have trusted her, but she seems always so trustworthy.” She gave a helpless shrug. “I did not want to leave the herbs there with her but she said they would be quite safe. Indeed that they were safer there than anywhere. She is very skilled at persuasion, I think. I do not regard myself as easily swayed, yet it seems that she did persuade me.” She sighed and bit her lip. “And when I came to see Abigail the first time, I saw at once that something was very wrong. I was alarmed. I asked her why she had not called me earlier when the whole thing could have been dealt with perfectly safely but she said that the business had only just come to light. So I told her it was wrong, very wrong of her to have attempted it.”

  “And when was this?”

  “The day after the party at your sister’s house. I insisted she call a doctor. I think I even suggested Mr Carswell to her. To her credit she called him but she would not let me see her again, at least not until yesterday when I insisted.”