Page 4 of Lady for a Season
“It is his Christian name. AsI said, you will treat him as a loving sister or cousin might treat an afflicted brother or cousin. You will not use formalities with him, he has not responded well to them in the past. I believe they stir up too many memories of his previous distresses and confusions. Thus, you will call him Edward and he will address you as Maggie. There will be a sense of kindness and kin between you, which will help him to remain settled. I have studied many of the great practitioners in this field and they agree with me that the patient should be removed from all objects that act forcibly on the nerves and excite too lively a response. The insane do best when removed from their houses and friends and confined at some distance from home, preferably in the country, which is better for both privacy and opportunities for healthy exercise. Ivy Cottage isblessed with a large private garden. Part of your care of Edward will include daily walks within its confines. Maniacs respond well to kindness and tenderness, hence your position as his companion.”
“Does he receive treatments, sir?”
“Most certainly. Aside from your attentive domestic comforts and healthful exercise, I myself regularly administer such treatments as bleeding, purging, vomiting and bathing. All of these are known antimaniacal remedies and have done him good. There is also a delivery of spa waters once a week, which enable him to take the waters in complete privacy. And there are other remedies, should he require them.” He looked her over. “You may wonder at his manner of dress, which is very simple. But it is beneficial for my patients to be dressed warmly and comfortably but without overt elegance or reference to their prior station in life.” He regarded Maggie seriously, making sure he had her full attention before continuing. “I ask furthermore that you do not inquire after his family name, his previous circumstances or any other such matters from his past, as they are only likely to cause him further distress. You will confine your conversation to his present life, for example the weather, the natural world around you, and so on. He likes to read. You need not concern yourself when he does so. The books I have provided are those I deem suitable for his current state of mind, inviting interest without excitement.”
Maggie nodded and asked no further questions, gazing instead out of the window as they passed buildings and people going about their business, and the wider open spaces as they left the city’s outskirts behind them.
For the most part, Doctor Morrison dozed. There were regular stops at coaching inns, large, noisy places where they could relieve themselves if necessary. They ate both their midday mealand dinner in one, Doctor Morrison in the main dining room, Maggie sent to a room where servants ate bread and cheese or ham with weak ale, rowdy rooms that she was glad to leave. They slept in the inn where they took their dinner, Doctor Morrison presumably in a private bedroom, Maggie dispatched to sleep with the maids of the inn. It was a cold chamber with four beds, though she was accustomed to both cold and dormitories, so it was not a hardship and the bed, at least, was relatively clean, without any sign of fleas. It was noisy, however, with snoring and boisterous singing from the inn downstairs late at night, as well as coaches and carriages coming and going. The second day of their journey, Maggie joined the doctor in dozing as they travelled through the countryside, occasionally waking to see farmland and tiny villages go by, one very much like another. Maggie was glad of her woollen dress and coat, which kept her warm enough.
In the late morning, the doctor sat up and showed more interest in their surroundings.
“We are close to Harbury,” he declared. “I will introduce you to Edward as well as the rest of the household, then leave you for a few weeks, as I have business to attend to in Leamington Priors. I will return every two months to administer Edward’s treatments.”
Maggie straightened up and peered through the window. The countryside was undulating, with green fields, dotted with sheep
“The earth here is poor,” said the doctor. “Farming yields smaller crops here than parts of the country with richer land. Of late there has been quarrying for limestone, which has employed many of the men from the village.”
They came to the outskirts of a small village, in the centre of which stood a red brick windmill, three times the height of the two-storey buildings surrounding it.
“The new mill,” said the doctor. “It brings more work into the village, for those who still raise grain crops.”
Maggie nodded.
“That is All Saints’ Church.” The doctor pointed at a crenelated tower rising behind a grey stone wall. “The vicar will visit each week to pray with you both, as Edward cannot leave the grounds to attend church. Too many people around him might unnecessarily alarm or confuse him. The cook and maid, of course, may attend church on their own account.”
The carriage pulled up outside a large cottage and the door opened at once, as though the occupants had been looking out for them. A stout older one emerged, wiping her hands on her apron, followed by a younger one with fair hair, adjusting her cap, no doubt to look neat for her employer.
“And this is Ivy Cottage. Good morning, Eliza, Agnes,” said the doctor. “This is Maggie, Edward’s new companion.”
“Morning, sir,” they chorused, bobbing curtseys. They nodded pleasantly at Maggie, who nodded back, relieved that they appeared friendly.
“Eliza is the cook, Agnes the maid of all work,” said Doctor Morrison. “Eliza, I hope you have a good meal for me. I’ve had nothing decent since we left London.”
“Oh yes, sir,” said the stout woman. “I’ve a rabbit pie and a good ham ready for you, baked bread just this morning.”
“Good girl,” said the doctor. To the driver he said, “I’ll be ready in an hour or so.”
Doctor Morrison followed Eliza into the house, leaving Maggie with Agnes and the driver.
“I’ll fetch you a plate,” said Agnes to the driver, simpering, for he was not a bad-looking man. She hurried back into the house.
“D’ye need a hand with this?” asked the driver as he lifted down Maggie’s trunk.
She shook her head. “I can manage.” It was not heavy, andit gave her something practical to do, since she felt uncertain. Should she walk into the house or wait to be lead there? The Doctor had simply gone in. She took a couple of steps forwards but Agnes was back before Maggie had even stepped over the threshold, carrying a plate with two thick slices of bread with ham and a tankard of ale.
“There’s my girl,” said the driver, winking at her, which made Agnes blush. “You’d better lead her inside,” he added, pointing at Maggie. Agnes appeared disappointed to be so easily dismissed, but smiled again when he added, “When she’s settled, you’ll have time to keep me company while I get this down me, eh?”
Agnes lifted one side of the trunk and Maggie grabbed the other. “Why, it don’t weigh much,” she said. “You ain’t got much in the world, have you?”
“No,” said Maggie. Almost everything in the trunk were things she had not had two days ago. To her it had seemed a sudden largesse of possessions.
“My, but you’re plainly dressed,” continued Agnes. “Are you one of them Quaker girls?”
“No,” said Maggie. Although Agnes’ own dress was a simple one, Maggie could see that more care had been put into making it look fetching, being made in a bold blue with puffed sleeves at the shoulder which only served to make Maggie’s dress look even more plain than it had when she had first seen it.
Once inside, Agnes pointed right and left. “That’s the kitchen, that on the other side’s the parlour. There’s an outhouse out the back. And a pump. We don’t have to go to the village pump, got our own,” she added proudly. “There’s a big garden out the back, goes right down to the stream. We need to lug this upstairs.”
They made their way awkwardly up the creaking stairs, into a corridor with three doors.
