Page 82 of The Lovers
James often spoke of Molly, and Elise could feel the razor-sharp ache in his heart, the not knowing whether Molly and Peterwere still alive worse than the actual news that they might have succumbed to the illness. Mercy resolutely did not ask about her parents, enjoying her time in the country as much as any child who’d never been farther than the next street would. Her reading and writing were coming along at a good pace, and she’d even taken it upon herself to share her newfound knowledge with Peg. Elise saw her sitting with Peg in the kitchen, teaching her the alphabet and writing out simple words that started with each consecutive letter, just as Elise had done to teach Mercy. Peg was not the most eager of students, believing that knowing her letters would do nothing to better her life, but Mercy was convincing, and Peg didn’t mind staying off her feet for an hour.
There were days when Elise wished that they could just go on this way forever, but the summer was waning. Eventually, they would have to return to London, but not before the epidemic had abated. They had virtually no news other than what James heard at the tavern. Much of what was said was speculation, but even speculation was based on some measure of truth gleaned from travelers and through gossip. The king and his court were still in Salisbury, which meant that it wasn’t yet safe to return. Elise and James remained in Suffolk, enjoying their idyll.
“What news of the city?” Elise asked as she lay in James’s arms on a particularly lovely afternoon. The sun rode high in the sky, and it was so warm that James stripped off his clothes and went for a swim. He emerged a quarter of an hour later, covered with gooseflesh but much refreshed. The North Sea often looked turbulent and gray, its waters icy even at the height of summer, but on this day, the sea was as smooth and shiny as a pane of glass, the blue expanse of sky reflecting in the tranquil water, sky and sea mirroring each other until it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. The sun sparkled playfully on the surface, and the seagulls circled overhead, waiting for the right moment to dive for an unsuspecting fish.
Elise and James never saw anyone else on the beach. An occasional fishing boat sailed past, and once or twice they spotted a larger vessel, possibly bound for the shores of Scotland, but no townspeople came this far. There were still many who believed that bathing was hazardous to one’s health, and it was only a brave few who dared to swim in the sea. Mothers scared their children with tales of sea monsters to prevent them from setting foot into the churning waves, fearful of their offspring being carried off by the current and drowned, their bodies never to be recovered.
James pulled Elise closer, enjoying the firm shape of her rounded belly against his side. The babe had been still before, no doubt lulled to sleep by the walk to the beach, but now it seemed to have awoken and was kicking vigorously, as if trying to get out before its time. James yelped with surprise as a particularly vicious kick startled him out of his reverie and brought him back to Elise’s question.
“The situation in London is growing worse, according to some travelers who’ve passed through the town recently. No one is coming in or out, and merchants are leaving food outside the city. Payment is tossed to them from the walls. Some say that there are not enough death carts, and the corpses are piled on the streets and rotting where they lie. The streets are deserted, and diggers are working round the clock to provide enough pits for mass burial. Many deaths have been reported in villages around London, so the contagion is still spreading.”
“But how?” Elise demanded. “If no one is going in or out of the city, how is this pestilence spreading?”
James shrugged. “All it takes is one infected person to pass through a village and come into contact with its inhabitants. A stop at a tavern, an exchange of coin, a handshake, and the illness takes hold. There’s some talk of the king and his court leaving Salisbury. There’ve been a few cases reported there.”
“Where are they decamping to?” Elise asked, fearful that Edward would return.
“Oxfordshire, I believe, but I don’t know for certain. There’s no possibility of returning to the city before the cold weather sets in. I won’t let you go back, Elise,” James warned, thinking she wished to return.
“I have no plans to go back, James. I will remain here until the child is born, and then bide my time until the sickness abates. There’s nothing waiting for me in London. Nothing at all.”
Elise felt a stab of guilt as she uttered the careless words. There was nothing in London for her, but James was desperate for news of Molly and her family. There was no way to find out who lived and who’d died. Even those who kept records would most likely be dead by now, and all anyone knew were rough numbers of casualties which were nowhere near the real death toll.
“Have you heard anything about Master Pepys?” Elise asked. “Is he still in London, do you think?”
Edward often mentioned Samuel Pepys. He seemed to admire and despise him in equal measures. Edward never really explained his animosity toward the man, but Elise detected a note of jealousy in her husband. Samuel Pepys was loved and admired by His Majesty, and Edward carried on like a jealous mistress, fearful that he would be replaced in the king’s affections.
“He was still in the city at some point during the summer, but most likely he’s left by now, or he should have if he values his life and that of his wife.”
“I would think that he’d leave once the king and his court departed,” Elise mused.
“Not necessarily. Master Pepys is devoted to providing a chronicle of the times, and he can hardly do that from leagues away.”
“I’d best get back before I’m missed,” Elise said as she laboriously got to her feet and brushed sand off her skirt before slipping her feet into her shoes.
“Peg knows where you are. That girl knows everything. She’s not as oblivious as you believe her to be,” James said as he pulled on his boots and reached for his doublet.
“Peg is grateful to be here. Whatever she knows, she’ll keep to herself,” Elise replied.
“Don’t be so sure, Elise. Everyone has a price, and a servant’s price is laughably low. That girl has nothing to her name, save the clothes on her back. She’ll spill all for a few shillings.”
“You’ve a very suspicious mind, Master Coleman,” Elise teased, amused by James’s sudden gravity.
“Aye, I do, and it would serve you well to heed my advice.”
“I do heed your advice, but the only way to remain safe is never to see you, and I refuse to do that. So let’s not talk about it anymore. I must go back.”
“I’ll walk you,” James said as he sprang to his feet and tied his damp hair into a loose ponytail.
“There’s no need.”
“There’s every need. You’re seven months gone with child. You shouldn’t be wandering about on your own.”
Elise smiled broadly, making James frown with disapproval. “I like it when you fuss,” she said. “No one ever cared about my welfare this way except for my dear mother.”
James just pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “Of course, I worry about your welfare. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
“You will never lose me.”
