Page 51 of The Lovers
Elise sank down onto a wooden settle and closed her eyes. The only way to keep her baby safe was to keep herself safe, and she had no way to do that. They’d been granted a reprieve this past month, but now it was over. The plague was among them, and Edward wasn’t about to do a damn thing to keep them from harm. She’d heard the thunder of hooves as he left the house, fleeing without even speaking to her.
THIRTY-FIVE
NOVEMBER 2013
Surrey, England
Quinn set aside the brooch and stared into the leaping flames in the grate. Her little chapel was frigid from October to April since it was built of stone and had no central heating, but the fireplace, which ingeniously faced both the living room and the bedroom, kept her cozy and warm. Quinn pulled a shawl closer about her shoulders and considered what she’d just seen. She’d learned about the Great Plague, of course, and had read the accounts of Samuel Pepys, who was the truest voice of his generation, in Quinn’s opinion. Images of plague-ridden London were familiar to her, but it was different seeing it through the eyes of someone who actually lived through it. Quinn could feel Elise’s fear and see the terror in the eyes of the servants. They’d believed themselves to be safe in Asher Hall, but no one was safe, not when an epidemic was raging just beyond the walls. Inhabitants of the house had to go out to buy supplies, and all it took for everyone to become infected was one person falling ill, as Janet had. Quinn felt a tearing pity at the thought of that frail, motherless girl who had little chance of survival. She was cared for by Lucy, but no amount of care would keep the disease from consuming her in the end. Few recovered.
Of course, in the seventeenth century no one knew how the pestilence actually spread, except that it traveled from person to person. People lived in close quarters with no running water or sanitation. Few washed their hands on a regular basis, and even fewer people bathed. Waste and muck covered the cobblestones,and open drains flowed down streets, the stinking contents splashing passersby as carriages and wagons drove by. Some of the greatest places of congestion were the city gates, where people and vehicles bottlenecked the archways and forced even closer interaction, allowing the disease to spread with greater efficiency. There were nearly seventy thousand deaths reported during the Great Plague, but historians believed that number was at least thirty thousand short of the real toll. Many of those who died hadn’t even been infected but were victims of quarantine, shut up in houses with plague victims for forty days with a guard posted outside to keep them from escaping.What a sad fate for someone who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, Quinn thought with an inward sigh.And what a cruel world that forced people to resort to such extremes.
Perhaps the death toll might have been reduced had Londoners reported cases of plague to the authorities sooner, but fear of being quarantined forced many to keep an illness among them a secret. Quinn could understand Elise’s reluctance to alert the authorities only too well. She was nearly five months pregnant, and being shut up in Asher Hall would be a death sentence for both her and her baby. Quinn wiped away a tear that slid unbidden down her cheek. Elise was long gone, but she seemed so real, so alive. Quinn was torn between the need to find out what happened to her and an equally strong desire not to know. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she nearly jumped out of her skin when there was a knock on the door. Quinn loved her antique door knocker, but at times the loud knocking frightened her, the echo reverberating through the house, bouncing ominously off the stone walls and forcing a shiver of apprehension to run along her spine.
Quinn glanced out the window, hoping for a glimpse of her unexpected visitor. A powerful northern wind moved through the trees, and heavy rain came down in sheets, the thick clouds obscuring the moon and stars, and leaving the world in absolutedarkness. Light from the window fell onto a sodden Gabe, and Quinn yanked open the door, a smile of welcome on her face.
“Let me in. It’s a deluge out here,” Gabe grumbled as he hurried inside, bringing a gust of wind and rain with him.
“You do own an umbrella, don’t you?” Quinn asked with a grin as she stepped aside to let him in.
“Yes, but I can never find one when I need it. Any chance of a cup of tea? I’m soaked,” he complained as he walked over to the fireplace, holding his hands out to the heat.
“Gabe, what are you doing here?” Quinn asked as she filled the kettle and took out mugs and some chocolate biscuits. They were a bit stale, but they’d have to do since there was nothing else she could offer him. She’d need to go into the village tomorrow to stock up on some provisions.
“I didn’t like the way we left things the last time we spoke,” he replied without looking at her, his eyes fixated on the fire. Quinn noted the rigid set of his shoulders and the way his feet were splayed, as if to achieve greater balance. Gabe wasn’t sure of his welcome and was bracing himself for rejection.
“You could have called, you know,” Quinn joked. Her heart leaped with joy at the sight of Gabe on her doorstep, but his unexpected arrival also put her on guard. Their relationship had morphed into something completely unexpected over the past few weeks, and she was no longer sure of the rules. The safety buffer of significant others had been removed, leaving them to face whatever it was that had hovered in the air between them for the past eight years.
“I could have, but I wanted to speak to you in person. Would you prefer that I leave?” he asked, watching her intently over his shoulder. He tried to keep his expression neutral, butQuinn could see the tiny flame of fear in his eyes before he extinguished it, shrugging in pretend indifference.
“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. Take off your jacket; you’re dripping water on the floor.”
“Sorry,” Gabe muttered as he shrugged off his wet jacket, hung it on a coatrack by the door, then came back and sat down on the sofa, somewhat more at ease.
Quinn handed Gabe a mug of tea, and he took a sip, sighing gratefully. “Much better now.”
Quinn perched on the armrest, keeping a safe distance from Gabe as she sipped her own tea. His intensity unnerved her, and she knew that this visit was going to be very different from the ones before. She wished she could forestall the conversation that was coming, but she supposed it would still take place sooner rather than later, and she wasn’t at all sure how she wanted it to go.
Gabe sipped his tea silently for a few minutes, but his gaze never left Quinn’s face. It’s as if he were searching for clues. Quinn tried to look as nonchalant as possible as she waited for him to begin, but her stomach clenched with anxiety. She wasn’t ready to have this confrontation.
“How was your day with Rhys?” Gabe finally asked. He tried to sound casual, but there was a bitterness in his voice that he was unable to hide.
“It was fine. We found what we were looking for.” Quinn paused, debating whether to tell Gabe the truth. “He knows, Gabe.”
“Knows what?”
“That I see Elise.”
“You told him?” Gabe exclaimed, nearly spilling his tea.
“Yes, I did. I’m not sure why I did it, but it just seemed natural. He wasn’t as surprised as I might have expected. He was fascinated, really.”
“I bet he was,” Gabe growled, his eyes flashing with anger.
“Gabe, what’s your problem with Rhys? I thought you liked him.”
Gabe’s head shot up, his eyes boring into her as if she’d just slapped him. “Are you bloody serious?” he choked out, instinctively leaning forward toward Quinn in agitation. He seemed really rattled. She shouldn’t have asked the question, but it just popped out, and now she had to know.
“Quinn, I like Rhys, but it’s your liking him that I’m concerned about.”
