The Tanner’s Daughter – Episode 18
The Tanner's Daughter by Pamela Kavanagh
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- 20. The Tanner’s Daughter – Episode 20
- 21. The Tanner’s Daughter – Episode 21
“As sure as can be. This sultry weather breeds it – the miasma from the filth on the streets does not help.
“I need to make up some protective pomanders. Rosemary, bergamot, southernwood.
“What a blessing we have the plants to hand. Meanwhile, do not venture beyond the door.”
Will frowned.
“It is serious, this outbreak?”
“For some, yes,” Margery said. “The elderly and the very young.”
And those frail in health. The words rang unsaid between them.
“Father must stay in his chamber. He must not mix with others until the problem clears,” Jane said shakily. “Has Mother been warned?”
“Yes, mistress. Madam’s chamber was my first port of call. It was she who bade me come to you next.
“I’m to burn purifying herbs in all the rooms and dose the master with a cleansing tisane.”
It was already too late. Next morning, the boy who swept the street outside Hatton’s was found lifeless at the entrance to the undercroft where the goods were stored.
Whether it was due to the fact that the main bedchamber window opened on to the street was not proven, but Nicholas sickened and three days later, despite Margery’s administrations, he breathed his last.
Constance was beside herself with misery.
“It is witchcraft that’s done this. He was recovering. Why, he spoke of returning to the office!” she cried.
“Mother, Father was a sick man. Margery cautioned us…”
“Margery? This is her doing. She’s a witch!
“I never want to see her face again. She’s to pack her belongings and go!”
Jane stared at her distraught parent in horror. Margery, her loyal friend and ally?
How would she cope without her?
“Mother, no! You are distressed. You don’t know what you are saying.”
“I know full well what I am about.”
“You do not. You are not thinking clearly. Who will help Martha in the house if Margery goes?”
“Housemaids are ten a penny. I shall take on another; someone more suitable.
“Margery Denny is to leave this instant, do you mind me, Jane? Now, before some other misfortune befalls us.
“Sure as night follows day, if that woman stays in this house a moment longer her evil powers will be the end of us all.”
The next week passed in turmoil.
Margery went; where to, Jane had no idea.
Nicholas was laid to rest in the churchyard of St Bridget’s beside the tiny sons who had scarce drawn breath. The household was united in grief.
Constance, in severe black from head to toe, interviewed for a housemaid to replace the irreplaceable Margery.
Task accomplished, she called Jane to her.
“Daughter, my choice is made. This is Dorcas Blunt, one of the Handbridge Blunts. A sound, Godfearing family.”
One look at the narrow, pock-marked face of the new maid, the downcast eyes and tight lips, and Jane’s heart sank.
This was trouble in the making.
