Now I was married, I could no longer perceive the Force of any Argument by which Erasmus might continue to plead for Moderation in my philosophical and scientific Researches; for as far as I could discern, my mental Equilibrium was compleatly adequate to sustain my plunging My Self fully into my Studies. In vain too did he suggest that I should give at least some Attention to sealing the Breach that had opened up between my familial Household and mine Aunt’s. In mine Opinion, this Alienation would function to my Benefit, as it must portend fewer Interruptions to my Work, and to mine Honeymoon.
On the Morning after my Wedding, I returned, with a renewed Interest and Vigour, to my Treatise upon Stroake, and while Katherine sate beside me on my study Sopha, with a clear and critical Faculty I read thro’ it a great Number of Times. I was convinced of the Rectitude of my central Assertion, which I held in common with Willis, that the hemiplegic Paralysis associated with Stroake is the Result of an Injury to the nervous Tissue of the Brain. All that was to be done, as far as I could ascertain, at least for that Part of the Theory, was to prove a causal Link between a cerebral Aneurysm and the cerebral Lesions responsible for the Paralysis. As mine Excitement grew, I discerned the Possibility of rewriting my Treatise into a scientific Paper to be submitted before, and approved by the Fellows of the Royal Society.
I immediately discerned a Difficulty, however, in that this theoretical Paper must, I knew, be supported by practical Evidence, which I did not have. I thought upon this Notion repeatedly, and the more I thought upon it the more essential it appeared that I have Dr Hunter’s Assistance, for I could think of none other who might be in any Position to secure for me those Corpses I particularly needed: namely those that had died, tho’ not immediately, succeeding upon an Apoplexy. Making my Decision, I leapt up from Katherine’s Side. “We go to London,” I said.
“What?” cried Katherine at once. Catching my Coat, she tried to detain me. “Oh, Tristan,” she said. “I would not go to London, not for anything! I would despise it!”
I gently removed her Hand and hastened to my Escritoire. I spread my writing Paper and dippt my Quill in its Ink, when all on a sudden the Realisation came to me that my Researches were not, in fact, in nearly as advanced a State as they must be if I were to be taken at all seriously by Dr Hunter. I was so startled by this Revelation, and the Thought of the publick Ridicule to which I had almost subjected My Self, that I droppt my Pen as quick as if’t had been a-burning. Before I even dreamed of approaching Dr Hunter, I ought to have acquired a supporting Body of Evidence by which to prove beyond Doubt that Willis himself had been correct, and that Damage to the cerebral Tissue did indeed cause Paralysis; and, beyond that, the Disturbances in Speech and, perhaps, in Thought, that had incapacitated my Father.
I looked up, and mine Eyes fell upon the multifarious winged and furred Specimens with which I had seen fit to populate my Sanctuary. At last, I thought, their Presence hath a discernible Purpose; as any living Creature is capable of experiencing Pain as an Human Being might, so it must possess a nervous Net and Brain that is in every Sense analogous to that of a Man.
I stood a while in Thought. “Nay,” I said to Katherine. “We stay here for the nonce.”
I began mine Experiment that very Afternoon. Leaving Katherine to occupy herself as she saw fit, I returned to my Study to spend the Houres until Dinner in close Examination of the uninjured Brain of a freshly killed male Rat, which I intended to set up as a Yardstick against which to measure those Specimens upon which I hoped to create Lesions. The Creature squeaked when I killed it, but I believe it felt no Pain, for my Knife was swift. I dissected out the Brain and having washed it, sate it before me in a porcelain Dish and took extensive Notes regarding its Shape and Condition. I now purposed to inflict upon another Rat an Haemorrhage beneath the Cranium, in the Hope that this would induce the Formation of Lesions upon the Tissue. Remembering Dr Oliver’s Operation upon the mad Man, I decided that the best Method was to drill a small Hole thro’ the Cranium and then suppress the Bleeding, which I intended would be re-directed inwards. Selecting a second Rat, similar in Size and Proportion to the first, I attempted to render it immobile ready for Vivisection, but the thing escaped while I was tightening the Straps and I was obliged to chase it all about my Study. When finally, after much Cursing, Confusion, and Delay, I achieved mine Aim, the Animal died immediately.
This second Frustration caused me to ponder whether I was rushing the Pace of my Research, and ought not first perfect the Art of causing Paralyses by inflicting Damage upon particular Nerves; which Procedure, tho’ it tell me little about Stroake, would reveal much about Communication betwixt Brain and Limbs whilst at the same Time greatly refining my Skill. This took me back to mine unnerving Intuition that Thought itself must be a material Thing; but I thrust it aside. It signifies naught, I told My Self, whether the Message that is supported upon the Nerves is material or mental. It matters not whether Pain is a corporeal thing, or whether it consisteth more in its apparent Meaning; no, what hath Importance to my Thesis is that it subsists upon Matter, and that the Nature of the Brain is thereupon disclosed.
I disposed of both bloody Corpses, washed mine Hands, and joined Katherine at Dinner.
* * *
This great Work absorbed mine Interest so thoroughly over the succeeding Weeks that I neither noticed the Time passing about me, nor mine own natural Hair growing thick upon mine Head; until one Morning I awoke to find that it was Christmas Eve, and two Yeares since Mary Fielding had taken in my Bat. This sad Anniversary put me again in Mind of London, and the Necessity of my Returning thither; but I judged that it was not likely I should reside again with the Fieldings, with Katherine or—Fortune forfend—without her.
My Marriage was everything I could have desired, except in one Area: it had remained unconsummated. Altho’ I had found My Self to be intirely capable of Emission when torturing my Darling into Agonies, when I considered performing any Act of natural Intimacy the Thought of Nathaniel would flash across my Mind, and mine Excitement wither on the Vine like poisoned Grapes. I had refused to allow this to matter. Katherine and I had, after all, our own Notions of Intimacy.
We passed Christmas Eve in playful Fashion. I secured Katherine firmly, by Means of several Coils of thick silk Rope, to the left Post at the Foot of the Bed, and slowly inscribed an attractive Euclidean Pattern upon the white Flesh of her upper Buttocks with mine ivory handled Lancet.
It was pure Delight to me to treat her thus, and to have her thus restrained, because when she was fastened upright, her welling Blood drippt down across her upper Thighs like melted Wax, and formed beautifull Shapes upon her Legs. This was all our Pleasure; I had never whippt her. I had still to hear that most magical Sound, that full throated, immoderate, wanton Scream that would have told me I had taken her to her Edge. I sometimes regretted this; but I had no more Desire to rush her than my Researches. The Memory of Annie pinked me still; I wanted to hear Katherine scream, not see her faint.
I had compleated the Outline of mine Inscription, and, seeing by Katherine’s Expression that she had descended deep into that State she treasured most, I kissed my Blade clean of her Blood and prepared to begin upon the lengthy Procedure of its Illumination.
There came a gentle, scuffing Knock upon my chamber Door.
It took me perhaps a Minute to realise that I had heard anything; Katherine did not appear to have noticed it at all. I turned, as if in a Dream, upon the Spot and stared at my Door, half unsure as to whether verily I had heard what mine Ears had told me. The Scuffing repeated, hesitant and soft, as if the Scuffer were afraid of my Response.
I rested mine Hand upon the Small of Katherine’s Back. “What is it?” I asked quietly.
“Mr Hart, Sir,” replied a muffled Voice, which I recognised as belonging to Molly Jakes. “Your Sister, Mrs Barnaby, is come, Sir.”
I stroaked Katherine’s velvet Skin; it rippled soft and pliable beneath my Fingers. A low, sighing Moan escaped her Lips. I would have been an unnatural Monster, or Man, if I had been able to break off at this Point. Moreover, I was still very cross with Jane.
“Tell Mrs Barnaby that she may wait,” I told Molly. “We will be an Houre.”
“Yes, Mr Hart.” I heard retreating Footsteps beyond the Door, then Stillness.
Once Katherine and I had brought our Game to a satisfactory Conclusion, I explained to her the Nature and Purpose of the earlier Interruption, of which, as I had discerned, she had at the Time been oblivious. Together, we dresst and headed down the Stairs to find my Sister.
Jane was a-waiting in the drawing Room, where Katherine and I had been married. The Evening was well advanced, but the curtained and shuttered Room was warm, and, owing to the reluctant Chimney, which refused to draw, its Aire was redolent with Ashes and holly Smoake. Katherine, in Defiance of Shirelands’ Tradition, had perswaded Mrs H. to deck the intire Hall from Floor to Cornice with an hundred Sprays of fresh Pine, and with ivy Tendrils long as driving Reins, all newly harvested from the Grounds and fragrant with Sap and Turpentine. In both drawing Rooms she had sparked a vivid Explosion of Leaf and Branch upon the Walls atop the Panelling, and winter Greenery chased round the dado Rail in a mad Saturnine Riot. Needles were dropping near the Hearth.
Upon our Entering the Room, Jane, who had been sitting at some Distance from the Fire, leapt to her Feet, then stood still, helplessly wringing her Hands, her Countenance tortured.
Jane did not look, to mine Eyes, exceeding well. She was very well attired—I should have been astonished if’t had been otherwise—but she had lost a lot of Weight, and her whiteleaded Features appeared drawn and haggard. Perhaps, I thought, ’twas all the Strain of her Pregnancy and recent Confinement, or perhaps ’twas from the Worry of our Father’s Illness—and mine own; but whatever its Cause, the Effect was alarming. On a sudden, I recalled the private Warning I had given to Barnaby upon the Daye he had married Jane. If he abused my Sister, I had said, I would take it upon My Self to snap every Bone he possesst, beginning with the smallest Phalanges and the Metacarpals, and progressing of course to the critical Vertebrae at the Base of the Cranium, whence the Spinal Cord began its Exodus.
It struck me that this was the first Time my Sister and I properly had met since my Departure for London, which had taken Place mere Dayes after her Wedding. This Realisation was so odd, coming direct upon the other, it made me pause and shy, like a Stag, surprized by an hen Pheasant starting suddenly from Cover. I had not been properly My Self in Company with Jane for one and an half Yeares.
She hath caused me an Hurt, I thought. But I cannot hate her for it.
I held open mine Arms. “Sister,” I said.
Mrs Barnaby let out a miserable Wail, and breaking her Freeze, rushed across the Room and flung herself upon my Neck.
When Jane had ceased Bawling, I had Katherine summon Mrs H., to tell her to bring up hot Toddies to soothe all our ragged Nerves. Then we sate in an Huddle hard by the Fireplace and Jane became able to relate, slowly, and with a great amount of Hiccoughing, the Particulars of her current Existence at Withy Grange, and her extream Contrition at her Absence from my Wedding, which had resulted from too avid an Attention to the Opinions of her Mother-in-law.
“’Twas a Shock, Tristan,” she said. “I knew nothing of your Attachment, naught at all. And Sophy had seemed so certain that Miss Montague was a—a shameless Flirt.” My Sister hid her Face in shaking Hands. “Oh!” she suddenly cried, tossing up her Face to reveal to me its desperate beseeching Look. “Can either of you ever forgive me? I had to explain Mr Glass’s Newes to Mr Barnaby, because he is my Husband, I felt ’twas wrong to keep it from him. I knew he would tell all to our Aunt, but I did not imagine—I could not—that she would behave in such a dreadful Manner. He wrote her first thing in the Morning and she was caught by Surprize. Now she is quite distraught at the Rift that she hath provoked between our Families, but she is such a proud Woman that she knows not how to apologise. Oh, Tristan! I did not ever want to lose my Brother, or our dear Father, for you both are dearer to me than mine own Life, or Mr Barnaby’s!” Her Hands flew once again to stop up her Mouth, as if she feared what she might say next.
“Sweet Sister,” I said, catching hold her Hands and bringing them away from her Face. “I forgive you intirely your Part in this; I know your Character well enough never to have suspected any Unkindness behind your Actions. As for mine Aunt, I shall forgive her nothing till she hath apologised, on her Knees, to my Wife. But she must still remember, e’en so, ’twas my Father forced her leave, and I can venture no Guess as to how his Pardon might be obtained.”
At this latter Statement, which I plainly conceived as being naught but Fact, Jane began violently to weep anew, and gave over only when Katherine put both her Arms about her, as Mary Fielding had done betimes to me, and dabbed her Tears away with her own Handkerchief. I felt an odd Discomfort at the Sight, and, knowing not where to look, directed my Gaze towards the crackling Hearth.
“I am not Mistress in my own House!” Jane sobbed. “In every Decision I am overruled. I perswaded Mr Barnaby to spare the willow Wood, but Mrs Ann said to leave’t would be untidy, and not like Stowe, and would not do. A fine View Mr Barnaby will have if the River floods, as I have been told, on good Authority, it will, if the Willows are grubbed up. And I am not permitted to hire my own Servants, or to dismiss them, even if they are sloppy and lazy, and rude, and will not do one thing for me unless they hear it from Mrs Ann. And they would not let me come and make Friends with you, till now, and I do not know why todaye they agreed that I might. I try to be a good Wife, Miss Monta—Mrs Hart; I do not seek to oppose my Husband’s Will; but it is cruel when he attends only to his Mother, and cares not a Whit for me!”
“You must call me Katherine, Mrs Barnaby,” said mine own Wife; and the Notion struck me like case-Shot how much more, from a certain Point of View, she had to put up with than did Jane; how much more unreasonable, verily how extream were my Demands compared to those of Mr Barnaby. Yet Katherine did not contemn them as such. Therein lieth the Difference ’tween our Houses, I thought. When James Barnaby married Jane, Jane understood, or thought she understood, the Conditions of their Contract; and either she was then deceived, or he hath since arbitrarily altered them. I would never do such thing, and Katherine is fully cognizant of that. My Sister is correctly sensible of an Injustice.
I pondered briefly whether this particular ill Usage of my Sister constituted sufficient Grounds for my breaking Barnaby’s Ribs, but decided, regretfully, that it did not. I thought, however, that it must necessitate a private Conversation with my Brother-in-law upon some future Date, when we were upon amicable Terms again. It annoyed me, also, that the immediate Cause of Jane’s Distress was the Destruction of that pretty Copse at the bottom of her Property—or her Husband’s—which had enchanted me upon that Daye when I had ridden over from Shirelands—the Daye when Katherine had flown down-Hill to meet me, a grass-stained Angel.
“When doth Mr Barnaby intend beginning the Trees’ removal?” I said.
“He says in the Summer; when the River is at its lowest.”
Mr Barnaby had thought me insane. “So, doth he imagine that ’twill never rise again?” I exclaimed. “Egad, Jane, your Husband is a Fool. A squalling Milksop, clinging to his Mother’s apron Strings and whining to her whenever his Will is challenged. I shall speak with him about your Willows, and your rightful Expectation to be Mistress in your own Abode. ’Tis wrong that Aunt’s Word should outweigh yours. You are Barnaby’s Wife, and his Child’s Mother. He will listen to you; or he shall answer to me.”
This Statement was met by a Look, from Jane, of mixt Skepticism, Longing, and Fear; but she did not speak.
“Please, might I see your Baby, Mrs Barnaby?” said Katherine, uncommon timidly, into the long Hiatus that followed.
Almost at once, Jane brightened, smiled, and said certainly, Katherine might, as she was the Infant’s Aunt by Marriage; and even if’t had not been so, Jane so enjoyed shewing off her dear Amelia it would have made no Difference; she would have had her fetched immediately.
Both Women then looked inquiringly toward me, as if I might raise an Objection to this proposed Introduction of a Babe amongst our Party; but I had none. I shrugged my Shoulders. “By all Means, have the Child brought up,” I said. “’Tis mine own Niece, after all. I only hope, Jane, that you do not have it swaddled. Swaddling doth, I conceive, more Damage to the Infant’s developing Skeleton than it prevents.”
Jane looked astonished. “Truly, Brother,” she said. “I did not expect to find you so knowledgeable.”
“I am not without an Interest in Children’s Bones,” I said.
“Oh!” exclaimed Katherine. An hungry Apprehension echoed in the Caverns of her Voice.
Little Amelia was accordingly sent for, and less than five Minutes later had been passed from the not unkindly Arms of her Wet Nurse into the kindly ones of her Mother; and I had my first clear Glimpse of this small Snippet of mine own familial Cloth.
The Baby was light skinned, bald headed, and round faced, with dark hazel Eyes exactly like her Mother’s. She had a small Mouth, Lips like a tiny Rosebud, and a miniature Tongue that wriggled repeatedly between them, as if she were suckling upon an imaginary Tit. She did not cry, or mewl, or wheeze; neither did she kick, or make any wriggling Movement that might have made her at all difficult to hold. She was not swaddled, but had been rationally dresst in a Petticoat and light Gown of green Muslin. I hoped this Dress, at least, had been at my Sister’s Instigation and not that of her Mother-in-law.
My Sister laughed. “No,” she said. “Babies do not grow their Teeth so young!”
The holly Log sparkled in the Grate, and fell upon its Side. I reached for the Poker. There was no Need to bother James, I thought. In Mr Fielding’s House, I had rarely troubled My Self with calling for the Servants.
A pretty enough Child; but perfectly common.
“She is beautifull, Mrs Barnaby,” Katherine said, as I raked the drab Ashes incarnadine.
“Please call me Jane,” said my Sister, with remarkable Warmth, and sororal Affection.
I selected two large holly Logs from the Fire-box and positioned them carefully atop the glowing Embers. After a Moment or so, a small, citrine Flame began to curl about the cylindrical Body of the nearest, then a second fluted Column of golden Fire spurted between them both, and stood, surprizingly erect, and unwavering.
“Do you want to hold her?” Jane said. “She is very placid.”
“Might I?” cried Katherine.
Jane got to her Feet, and somehow turned the Child about in her Arms so that she could easily transfer it. Katherine also stood, and took up the Babe with a confident Ease that confounded me, even tho’ I knew she had Siblings younger than herself, with whose Care she had doubtless been charged. I remembered mine own inexperienced Handling of my little Bat, and my Stomach lurched. Where is she now? I thought. My poor, pretty Freak, stolen back by Viviane, wandering the Country with a Mobb of Gypsies and Nathaniel Ravenscroft.
Nathaniel Ravenscroft, I thought. A Stab of Anger, overwhelming, incomprehensible and savage, caused me to catch my Breath. Nathaniel Ravenscroft. Whither didst go?
Katherine stroaked baby Amelia’s Head, and then, to worsen my Confusion, bent her Neck and snuffled at the Child’s bald Crown like an hound Bitch identifying a Pup.
“Oh, yes,” said Jane, delightedly. “Is she not delicious?”
“What are you about?” I asked. “Is this some female Mystery, or have you both lost your Wits?”
Jane laughed again; it was good, despite my Perturbation, to hear it. “It is the Infant Scent, Tristan,” she said. “Young Babies have a special Odour. ’Tis hard to describe it—but ’tis sweeter than the Primrose.”
“Indeed?” I thought back again to my Bat, but the only Smells I could recall were those of oyster Sauce and Christmas Spices. If Bat had smelled of anything, I thought, it would have been of highway Dirt, and Mistletoe, and the old Gypsy Hag.
I looked upon Katherine’s rapt Expression as she beheld the Babe, and I could think of nothing but Nathaniel; and mine Heart stoppt.
* * *
Much later, when my Sister had departed, I straightway took Katherine to my Chamber, and helped her to undress. I did not anticipate that things could change between us in the important Way that they must, but as her Corset came away, like a Ribcage, in mine Hands, the Skirt of her Gown shivered to her Feet and took with it the linty Bandage I had earlier applied about her fresh Cuts. I bent down to pick it up, and as I did so Katherine shifted her Body slightly. Golden Candlelight fluttered across the Scars, both livid and pale, that adorned her Buttocks.
Beautifull, beautifull. “Place your Arms behind your Back,” I said.
She laughed, lightly, innocently, and folded her Arms behind her. The blue Veins pulsed in her exposed Wrists. I took her left Arm in mine Hand and twisted it so that, just visible above the laced Fretwork was mine own Name, like to the Signature upon an Artist’s Masterwork. T H.
She belongs to me, I thought. She is mine, and there hath never been another who hath had, in Truth, any Claim upon her Body, and her Heart.
An I do not, I thought, then by the Letter of the Law she will not be my Wife.
T. H.
“You belong to me,” I said. “To me, and not Nathaniel Ravenscroft.”
“What!” Katherine shuddered, and deep Revulsion twisted her Mouth. “I was never his!” she retorted. “Never! How dare you to suggest it! Before God, with my whole Heart, I was only ever yours, even when you refused to recognise that I existed!”
“Indeed?” I felt her Carpal Ligament slide beneath my Thumb. “So you say. How am I to tell whether you speak the Truth?”
“Believe me! I put Meadowsweet in your greatcoat Pockets once. I was eight. Do you remember? You did not know who had done it, and you flew into a Passion, and told Nathaniel that it was Sophy. And he pretended to believe you, and he teazed Sophy so bad she wouldn’t come out of her Room for a Sennight. And you never noticed me, never, never!”
The Inscription of my Name lay beneath my Fingertips. Mine Hands began to relax their fierce Hold. “I truly thought ’twas Sophy,” I said, slowly remembering. “And I took little Delight in meadow Flowers.”
“I should have used Bones,” Katherine hissed.
Without letting My Self reflect for one Moment upon the thing I was about to do, I freed My Self from my confining Breeches, and with my Gaze still fixt upon the lettered Script, clappt fast her Wrists in my one Hand and the Base of her Cranium in the other, and roughly forced her to lie Face downwards upon the Bed.
I had held Polly Smith thus, and others; I had overpowered, and ravished each Girl as easily as if she had been a Plum ripe for the picking. I had done so; verily, I would do so again.
Katherine cried out in Astonishment. I did not think. I did not dare to think. With my Knee, I parted her Thighs. Her carpal Bones, plastic to the Point of Dislocation, shifted some little Way beneath my Fingertips.
My Loins began to stir. I kept mine Eyes fast upon mine own Name. Katherine, I thought. Mine, mine.
I was forced to let go her Neck, but she did not move, only trembled, violently, as I opened her. There was no Impediment. A red Gauze fell across mine Eyes. Mine Excitement increased; within my Chest a wild, frantick, spiralling Vortex. At last! I thought. Then Lust began to move me; I thrust again and again, with increasing Violence and wild Rapidity. With each savage Movement Katherine cried out, a mewing Scream of Pleasure or of Pain, I did not know which. It did not matter. I felt my Torso shudder; I spiralled down, into the sweet, welcoming Darkness of Oblivion.
I had fucked Nathaniel Ravenscroft compleatly from mine Head.