‘Tilly,’ she whispered, ‘Tilly, help me.’
Evelyn heard fabric slide down against the door, but Tilly did not answer.
‘Please, Tilly. Come in and untie me.’
‘I can’t, Miss Evelyn. I can’t,’ whimpered her maid from the other side of the door. Her voice came from near ground level, as if she was sitting on the floor. Poor Tilly, thought Evelyn.
‘It’s all right, Tilly,’ soothed Evelyn. ‘Everything is going to be all right. All you have to do is come in and untie me. No one will know it was you.’ Evelyn held her breath, hoping she would change her mind.
‘I can’t,’ Tilly replied, sobbing. Her crying grew louder as she gasped for breath between each sob. ‘They have sent for Doctor Birch, Miss Evelyn.’
A chill ran through Evelyn’s veins. ‘Tilly,’ she pleaded, twisting her wrists. ‘You’ve got to get me out of here.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Tilly said. ‘I am so sorry.’ Evelyn strained to listen. She heard her maid stand up on the other side of the door. Any hope she had dwindled when she heard her maid’s footsteps fading away. Doctor Birch. His presence still frightened her as much as it had done when she was a child. She rested her head against the back of the chair. She felt so tired. So very tired.
* * *
Evelyn woke and looked at her wrists, which were still tied to the chair. Bathed in sunlight, they felt warm, as wrens warbled and trilled loudly outside. Time had passed, morning had broken and, for a moment, she was confused how she had missed it. She heard someone clear their throat and turned her head to find Doctor Birch standing in the doorway of her bedroom looking at her. He entered and pulled up a chair.
‘It is almost six o’clock. You have been asleep. How are you feeling?’ he asked.
Evelyn did not reply.
‘Are you hungry? Thirsty?’ She nodded warily. ‘Then let us remedy that straight away.’ He gestured for Tilly, who had been waiting outside, to come nearer and asked for a pot of tea, two slices of bread and a dish of jam to be brought. ‘What sort of jam would you like? Plum? Strawberry?’ he asked, smiling. His gaze dropped to her bound wrists. ‘Let us go with plum. I like plum.’ Evelyn felt her cheeks burn as Tilly scampered away. She must look a sight, thought Evelyn, for Tilly could not even bear to look at her.
Doctor Birch swiftly untied her. ‘You should not be trussed up like an animal, my dear,’ he said kindly. ‘There is no need to be afraid; I am here to help you. Would you like to use the chamber pot?’ He smiled. ‘Come, come, Evelyn. I have knownyou since you were a child. I look upon you as a daughter. There is no need to be embarrassed. Once you have relieved yourself and had something to eat and drink, you can tell me all about it.’
Evelyn did need to relieve herself, but had to use the chamber pot while he remained in the room with his back turned to her. To add to her humiliation, he asked to see its contents before the servant removed it. The inspection felt far longer than it was, and caused Evelyn to seethe inwardly, but she remained silent as she suspected that to make demands now could cost her dear.
Tilly returned with a tray, but disappeared almost immediately, leaving her alone with the man who had been a constant throughout her life. He poured her a cup and handed it to her with a sympathetic smile. The scalding tea was far too sweet, but drinking it gave her something to hide behind and helped to quench her thirst. The food, however, she could not face. She felt Doctor Birch’s curious eyes watch her as she drank and suspected that he was locking away every detail in his medically focused mind, so when he began to speak again, Evelyn felt strangely relieved.
‘Are you feeling a little better now?’
Evelyn tried her best to not let her trembling hands show as she returned her cup to her saucer and onto the tray. ‘Yes, thank you, Doctor Birch.’
His brow creased with concern. ‘You must have been greatly distressed to go to such lengths?’ He lifted the pot. ‘More tea, my dear?’ Evelyn shook her head. He replaced the pot on the tray. ‘I remember when I was your age and in love for the first time I thought the world would end if I did not make her my wife.’ He chortled to himself. ‘Of course, it didn’t, but when one is young, everything is so much more . . .’ he waved his hand in the air as he searched for the right word ‘. . . dramatic.’
Evelyn said nothing.
‘Where were you planning to go so late at night?’
‘Nowhere.’
‘Your father has told me he had refused to grant his permission for you to marry an unsuitable upstart.’
‘Drake is not an upstart.’
The doctor smiled. ‘Drake,’ he mused. ‘It is a good name. A strong, no nonsense name. Is that the type of man he is?’
Evelyn nodded cautiously. ‘He is a good man.’
‘And were you planning to run away with Drake?’
Evelyn did not reply. Drake may have changed his mind about running away with her, but she still felt the need to protect him from her father’s wrath.
Doctor Birch patted her hand. ‘I am not unsympathetic, Evelyn, dear. Love is a powerful draw. But what of your cousin, Mawgan? Your father says there is an understanding between you. To be betrothed to one man and run off with another is social suicide.’
‘I am not betrothed to Mawgan.’
