The Swan Maid

Benson leaned over to examine the unconscious man. ‘I’d say he’s got concussion. I seen it afore, miss. We was undergoing training at the Electric Telegraph Company, working on the underground wiring in the Strand, and Ellis was on the ladder when it gave way.’

‘He should have been taken straight to hospital,’ Lottie said worriedly.

‘He could die.’ Frank moved closer to the fire. ‘Is there any chance of a bite to eat and a drink, miss? We can’t do much for young Gideon, but the living has to be taken care of too.’

Lottie turned on him. ‘How can you be so heartless? If you’re hungry go to the kitchen and Mrs Pretty will feed you.’

Frank’s tanned features split into a wide grin. ‘Does she take after her name? Is she good-looking like you?’

It was on the tip of Lottie’s tongue to put him straight, but she changed her mind. ‘The only way you’ll find out is to do as I say.’ She shot a sideways glance at Private Benson. ‘You look as though you could do with some sustenance. I’ll stay with your friend while you get some food, but don’t be too long.’

Benson tipped his cap. ‘Ta, miss. Much obliged. We ain’t eaten since midday.’ He pushed Frank towards the door. ‘Hurry up, then. If we don’t hurry we’ll find the greedy gannets have ate everything in the kitchen.’

Lottie stared down at the inert figure on the couch. A livid bruise marked his otherwise smooth forehead, and his light brown hair was matted with blood from a cut on the temple. He looked young and defenceless, despite the army uniform, and if she had not known better she might have thought him to be sleeping peacefully. She left the room briefly to look for Jem who was rushing about, fetching food and ale for their new guests.

She beckoned to him. ‘When you’ve done that, could you bring me a bowl of warm water and some clean rags? I daren’t leave the poor fellow on his own.’

‘What a to-do! But the officer is a toff,’ Jem chuckled and patted his trouser pocket. ‘He gave me a handsome tip, so I don’t mind running after him and his mates. I’ll bring the water as soon as I can.’ He raced off towards the kitchen, balancing a jug of ale with the expertise of long practice.

When she had bathed the soldier’s cuts, and placed a cold compress on his bruised forehead, Lottie could do no more, and she settled down by the fire. It was warm in the Filbys’ parlour and the chair was comfortable. She was tired and very sleepy …

She awakened with a start at the sound of someone calling out in distress.

Chapter Two (#ud960f709-5c08-5551-98ef-43269ff9918b)

Lottie almost fell off the chair in her haste to be at the young private’s side. His eyes were open, but unfocused, and he was babbling incoherently. She clutched his hand. ‘It’s all right, Gideon. That’s your name, I believe.’

‘Mother?’ He attempted to sit up, but she pressed him back against the cushions.

‘Lie still, there’s a good boy.’

‘You’re not my mother?’ He gazed at her, puzzled and frowning. ‘Is she here?’

Lottie swallowed hard. The lump in her throat threatened to choke her but she managed a smile as she held his hand to her cheek. ‘Your ma isn’t here, Gideon, but I’m sure you’ll see her soon.’

‘I need to send her money. I have to make sure she’s taken care of while I’m away.’

‘You mustn’t worry. She’ll be all right.’

His hazel eyes, framed by ridiculously long and thick brown lashes, focused with difficulty on her face. ‘Where am I? I don’t know you, do I?’

‘My name is Charlotte Lane, although everyone here calls me Lottie.’

‘Lottie.’ He closed his eyes with a sigh.

‘Gideon.’ Alarmed, she shook him by the shoulders. ‘Don’t die. Please don’t die.’

‘It’s all right, miss. We’re back now.’ Joe Benson had come into the room unnoticed. He leaned over Gideon. ‘He ain’t dead. It’s the bump on the head that’s making him like this. We’ll take over now. You get yourself back to bed.’

‘I’ll go with you if you want company.’ Frank stood in the doorway with a tankard clutched in his hand. He was grinning stupidly, and it was obvious that he was in the early stages of being drunk.

‘No, ta, very much. I’ll say good night, then.’ She hesitated, staring down at Gideon. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing we can do for him?’

Benson patted her on the shoulder. ‘We’ll take care of him tonight, and we’ll see how he is in the morning.’

‘But where will you sleep?’ Lottie asked anxiously.

‘We’re sappers, miss.’ Frank saluted drunkenly. ‘We can doss down anywhere.’

‘He’s right. Don’t worry about us.’ Benson moved swiftly to the door and held it open. ‘We’ll probably be off before you’re up and about. This was an unplanned stopover, thanks to Ellis falling down a hole in the road.’

‘I hope he gets better soon.’

Lottie tried to convince herself that Private Ellis was in good hands as she made her way back to the attic, but she had the nagging feeling she could have done more for the injured man. Ruth and May were already in bed, snoring gently, and Lottie had to feel her way in almost complete darkness. She lay down on the prickly palliasse, and, despite her worries, sank into a deep sleep.

Her first thoughts when she awakened next morning were for Private Ellis, and she dressed quickly. It was still dark, but she could hear movement in the stable yard below.

She nudged Ruth, who slept next to her. ‘Wake up. I think the soldiers are leaving.’

Ruth snapped to a sitting position, although her eyes were still shut. ‘What’s the time?’

‘It’s early, I think, but I’m going down anyway.’ Lottie did not wait for a reply. She hurried to the stable yard, where she found men assembled, and Lieutenant Gillingham and his sergeant about to mount their horses. Mrs Filby was conspicuous by her absence, and it was Filby himself who was in charge.

Lottie knew better than to put herself forward, but she could not see Private Ellis and she was alarmed. He might have been taken to hospital, or his cold corpse might be lying on the sofa awaiting the arrival of the undertaker. Her imagination was rapidly getting the better of her, and some of her anxiety seemed to have communicated itself to the lieutenant. He handed the reins to his sergeant.

‘Miss …’ he hesitated, smiling ruefully. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know your name.’

‘Lottie, sir. Lottie Lane.’

‘Well, Miss Lane, I want to thank you for turning out in the middle of the night to assist my men.’

‘It was nothing, sir. How is Private Ellis?’

‘Mr Filby has kindly agreed to allow Ellis to remain here for a day or two, until he’s fit to travel on to Chatham. My men moved him to one of the guest rooms, first thing, but unfortunately I cannot spare anyone to stay with him. Mr Filby assures me that he will be well cared for.’

‘He will indeed,’ Lottie said firmly. ‘I’ll do everything I can for him.’

Gillingham’s serious expression melted into a smile that crinkled the corners of his grey eyes. ‘From what Benson has told me you would make a good nurse, Miss Lane.’

‘Oh, no, sir. I did what anyone would have done.’

‘Don’t underestimate yourself, Miss Lane. Did you know that Miss Nightingale is recruiting nurses to take with her to the Crimea?’

‘Don’t put ideas in her head, I beg you, sir.’ Filby had come up behind them, and, although he was smiling, Lottie knew him well enough to realise that he was growing impatient.

‘I am just a chambermaid, sir,’ she said hastily.

‘Yes, indeed.’ Filby jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. ‘I think Mrs Pretty is preparing some gruel for the patient, Lottie. You’ll find him in room fifteen, but don’t loiter longer than necessary. There’s a mail coach due from Exeter in half an hour.’