“I do not like such work,” Martha said.
“Nor do I,” I replied. “But it must be done.”
“And if you find the Mark you’ll send Hester to her death?”
I paused before answering. A few years earlier I would not have hesitated to perform this duty. But in the time since Martha had come to my house, I’d had a hand in more deaths than I cared to count. And while none could be counted as murder, my appetite for blood, even the blood of the guilty, had long been sated.
“If I must,” I said at last. I could hear the doubt in my voice.
I decided to wait until morning before sending a reply to the summons, and that night I petitioned the Lord to take the cup from my lips.
To my surprise, God answered my prayers in the affirmative. The next morning, hours before sunrise, I heard a knocking at my door. Hannah answered, and by the time she came upstairs to get me I’d already started to dress. There was only one reason for someone to come to my house so early.
“Jane Morris is in travail,” Hannah said as she helped me finish dressing. “Martha is gathering the necessary herbs and your valise.”
“Thank you, Hannah,” I said. “Send a note to the Castle telling them I won’t be able to examine Hester Jackson. They should find someone else.” I paused for a moment to thank God for His mercy. Had I known that a more poisonous draught would follow, I would not have been so fervent in my prayer.
Martha and I had only a few minutes to talk as we walked to St. Wilfred’s parish, where Jane lived.
“I delivered Jane twice before you came to the city,” I said. “And she’s reached her time, so the child should be a strong one.”
“Were there any problems with the earlier births?” Martha asked.
“None at all,” I said. “Perhaps you should take the lead today?” A smile lit up Martha’s face, making it even more beautiful than it ordinarily was.
“I was hoping you’d ask,” she said.
As I’d anticipated, Jane’s travail was quick and without any problems. Martha acquitted herself marvelously.
But the next afternoon it became clear that when I refused to examine Hester Jackson I had called a storm upon the city. Though the initial breeze seemed harmless enough, it was followed by winds and torrents powerful enough to overturn all good order and wash away many lives, including my own.
* * *
I was in the dining room helping Elizabeth with her writing when I heard the front door open and then the telltale gait of my nephew Will Hodgson. Elizabeth recognized it as well, dropping her quill and racing to greet him.
“Elizabeth, your hands are covered in ink!” I cried out as I righted the inkpot she’d knocked over in her haste. Will shouted out in mock horror as Elizabeth approached, and I found them tussling in the entry hall. Will held fast to her wrists while Elizabeth insisted that she wanted to draw a mustache on his face. Since coming to my house, Elizabeth had become especially fond of Will, and I could not help thinking that it was because they had been orphaned within days of each other. While separated by years, they were bound by death.
After I shooed Elizabeth off to find a basin and towel for her hands, Will retrieved his cane from where he had dropped it and came to embrace me. He had been born with a clubfoot, and he spent all his life trying to overcome this deformity. Other children had teased him relentlessly, of course, and Will had learned to defend himself with his fists. When his own father rejected him because of his misshapen body, Will seemed bound for a life of drink and violence. He had been pulled back into a respectable life by my good offices, but more by his love for Martha. They had not yet declared their affection to me, but I had seen and heard enough to know that they intended to marry once Will had established himself.
For a time, such a match had seemed unlikely, if only because Will’s father, Phineas’s brother Edward, would never have allowed his son—even one with a club foot—to marry a maidservant. But the terrible bloodletting that had visited York the previous summer ultimately freed Will from such constraints. The first step in this strange journey was the return of Will’s older brother Joseph to the city after a time in the wars. Joseph proved to be zealous for the Puritan cause and unceasing in his pursuit of power. His return led to the deaths of half a dozen men and women, including Edward. In the aftermath, Joseph drove Will from their childhood home and seized their father’s wealth. While some men doubted Will’s guilt, none were willing declare his innocence in public; Joseph’s power and ruthlessness were too great, and the consequences of angering him too dire. Will mourned his father, of course, but realized that while he’d lost his wealth, he now had the freedom to marry whomever he chose.