Chapter 14: Domestics

Strange the things that can raise you to consciousness, Claire contemplated while resurfacing. Something was heavy, lying on top of her. It was making her welcomingly warm, yet it also felt suffocating. She pushed at it before she opened her eyes, and found it soft and surprisingly pleasant to the touch. A patterned quilt it appeared to be, with fine patchwork and embroidery, obviously the work of someone very skilled at what they were doing. But before she could make sense of it all and look further, a strong, confident voice startled her.

"Well, there you are. I would've preferred to meet my sister-in-law in circumstances more favourable than these," the solemn woman sitting straight on a chair by her bedside intoned, "I am Lady Randall, the dame of Litlington House."

"Uh," Claire managed, confused beyond baffled. From how she'd imagined her on the basis of Jack's half sentences describing her, the person before her could not be anyone else than Lavinia, William Randall's wife. None of this mattered to her however, nor what she was talking about, "my daughter..." the invalid looked around frantically, though she could hardly whisper or raise her head off the pillow.

"The children are with the wet nurse I had in my employment for my Harvey. I have also sent into town for another one because Betty cannot possibly feed three infants on her own."

Claire nodded, panting from the effort and the emotional upheaval, what came with taking it all in. The treatment the children got must've been really liberal from the Randalls, who according to Jack, weren't the most generous. She was grateful at any case, "thank you..." She whispered, overwhelmed, only just realising and dealing with the fact that she was alive when she shouldn't have been. "Could I please see her?" Brianna was still her main focus however.

Lavinia waved her off, "sure, in time. Now you need to drink," she raised a cup with refreshing, cold water to Claire's lips with a no nonsense attitude. "You were very fortunate not to develop a fever, but you must gain some strength before any further strain and anxiety." While the water was very welcome, the advice was not. If she was to go by eighteenth century medicine that blamed half the illnesses on emotional states, it could be a week before they let her close to her child.

"I will get the servants to bring you some soup," the patronising continued. Lavinia sounded more self-assured and condescending than caring, but for now, Claire decided to assume that a positive emotion was there behind her actions, otherwise why care for a stranger? "Hopefully you will have more luck with it than your husband," the lady of the house rose to act as she'd mentioned.

"My...my husband?" Claire questioned, eyebrows furrowing.

Lavinia mistook the question as her asking for her husband's welfare. "Johnny carried you inside in his arms, scaring the living daylights out of all of us with all that blood and then collapsing himself. We thought you were ghosts, neither of you had more colour than a candlestick!" She made the sign of a cross quickly, her stoic expression changing for the first time to show the flicker of affright the typically superstitious womenfolk of the century customarily displayed, be that noblewoman or maid.

"Johnny...my husband..." The younger woman mumbled, trying to get her muddled head round what had transpired. So that was why Lavinia cared, because Jack told them she was his wife.

"He will be happy to hear you awakened, he is in the room adjacent. We thought it best to nurse you separately, so you can get the rest you need. I will come back to see how you're doing later. I hope one of you will finally tell me how this marriage came about and I'm betting on you as Johnny hasn't been forthcoming so far. A tale of love it must be as he wasn't supposed to marry a widow with no dowry or inheritance because of his position you see." Lavinia intoned flippantly on her way out.

Claire shrank back, avoiding eye contact and gave a big sigh when left alone. How was she supposed to come up with a love story with Jack until later that day? The whole idea of it was upsetting, ludicrous, unwanted and crazy! The worst thing about it was that her rational mind justified Jack's lies and certified his good intentions but that only infuriated her more. How dare he make a good go at atoning his sins against her, they ran so deep it was an insult him trying. She was still fuming about the very thing when her furious tornado of thoughts was interrupted by a firm, but hesitant knock on the door. With some difficulty, Claire pushed herself up on her pillows and tucked her anger just below the surface, "come in!"

Jack let himself in and advanced slowly, posture somewhat hunched as he made his way to the chair his sister-in-law had earlier been sitting on. He was wearing a greyish dark yellow, ugly dressing gown and a pair of old, patented and golden embroidered slippers with higher heels than customary for the time period, which made him appear a little out of time as well. If circumstances were different, she could've laughed at the expense of his attire, but repressed anger boiled over instead, "what is this with me being your wife!" She demanded as ferociously as her current state of health allowed.

"A good day to you too Madam," he disregarded her outburst as if nothing would have happened, "though I suggest we call each other on our Christian names when around people on the estate and we should probably practice for it too," he suggested. They'd been alternating between formal and informal for months, depending on how they've felt at the time.

Claire gave a headgesture that Jack knew meant she was in no mood for pleasantries. "Do you remember what I have told you on the way here?" Jack relented. "That I will claim your daughter as mine? And you had plans to die haven't you, perhaps with thoughts of the conundrum serving me right to pay for my transgressions till I pass on as well as you claim, with nobody in the know what to do about my illness in this day and age?

The brunnette pursed her lips, "perhaps."

"Well, how do you suppose the plan would work with you alive? If Brianna is my daughter, the you cannot be anything else than my wife. You have the ring to prove it too," he nodded at the shiny golden band on her finger, with the name Randall engraved inside. "Apparently, I have been spoiling you with that one."

Once again, Claire was mesmerised by the two wedding rings on her fingers. Frank, a distant memory, Jamie as a burning sear in her chest. If he was dead, then she was no more a bigamist, only someone who is now pretended to be married without having been consulted on the matter. "With me alive, your plan is null and void. I will take care of my child, there's no need for you," she looked him up and down fiercely, in a deprecating manner. "Hand over my daughter," she pulled herself up on the pillows, out of puff and feeling like she needed to close her eyes for a moment.

Jack pulled back a little, somewhat bewildered. Not as if he didn't expect her to be feisty, that wouldn't be Claire, but sometimes it would've been more convenient if the woman saw sense once in a while. "I will go and get her right now. However, I believe it would be advisable, for your and the child's sake, it you stayed till you have sufficiently recovered and has devised some sort of plan on where and how are you supposed to provide for her." He established firmly and walked towards the door, slower than Claire would've liked. She wanted nothing more at this moment than to see her baby safe and sound with her own eyes, but the way Jack was going, leaning on a cane and on the doorframe when he reached it, it might be a while. Maybe she should take the chance and indeed close her eyes for a moment as her body wished till he returned.

Tbc