The Maidservant and the Murderer Read Online Free

to discern the nature of my soul.
    And perhaps she succeeded, for without another word she swung the shovel at my head. I ducked, but too late, and she caught me above the ear. I fell to the ground and curled into a ball, wrapping my arms around my belly to protect my child. I do not know how many times she struck me–a dozen perhaps?–but in the end the bruises so overlapped they could not be counted. After a time I became aware of someone shouting, and realized that the beating had stopped. I looked up and saw that Richard had wrested the shovel from his mother’s hand and was pushing her away from me. I tried to stand, but the pain shot through me like lightning and I resolved to lay there for a bit longer. I closed my eyes and all became darkness.
    When I awoke I found that it was night and someone had put me in my bed. For a time I lay there, not daring to move. My body felt as if it had been set alight, and I knew that if I tried to stand I would fail. I closed my eyes again and, despite the pain, fell back into the abyss.
    *   *   *
    â€œYou killed him, didn’t you?”
    My eyes snapped open and in an instant I was as awake as I’d ever been. Mrs. Hooke stood over me, staring into my face with a cold fury.
    â€œYou seduced my husband into your bed, and when you wearied of his attention, you poisoned him.”
    â€œI never would.”
    Mrs. Hooke raised her hand, and I flinched. Pain fired through my body and I cried out despite myself.
    â€œDo not lie,” she hissed. “I know the kind of man my husband was. He could no more resist your temptations than Adam could resist Eve’s. I know that you’ve been meddling with him for months, and I know that the child in your belly is his, not Richard’s.”
    Mrs. Hooke laughed at the surprised look on my face.
    â€œRichard may be a fool,” she said. “But I am not. He told me when you lay together, and you have been with child for far longer than that.”
    I dared not speak.
    â€œI have found a neighbor girl and she will care for you until you are able to walk,” she continued. “As soon as you can, you will leave my home and you will never return. If you ever speak to Richard again, if I ever see you again, I will finish the beating I started yesterday.” Without waiting for a response she left my room.
    I lay in the bed for a full week. Twice a day a girl brought me broth, ale, and bread, but she refused to speak to me. And so it was that I had endless hours to consider what had gone wrong with my plan, and to mediate upon all the wrongs that Mrs. Hooke had visited on me. How long had she known that Mr. Hooke had been using me so barbarously? And why had she allowed it to continue? To my surprise, the fury that I’d felt toward Mr. Hooke–fury which I thought had died with him–flared back to life like the embers in a well-banked fire. But as I lay there in bed, I knew that such thoughts were of no use. I could not take revenge on Mrs. Hooke without risking my own life, and even a simple lad such as Richard would become suspicious if both his parents died in my presence. So the following week I gathered my few belongings and started for York. Where else could I go?
    *   *   *
    Because it was not yet obvious that I was with child, I had no trouble finding employment. A washer-woman in St. Wilfred’s parish took me in, and in exchange for food and a bed I helped her in her work. I thanked the Lord that even as my belly grew the weather turned cold, and I could wear a coat to hide my condition without attracting notice. Even my new mistress did not know.
    But as the weeks passed, I knew that I would soon have to make a decision about my travail. I did not want to bear the child alone, but if I sought out a midwife, she would see me whipped for bastardy, and I refused to suffer yet again for Mr. Hooke’s crimes. I did my best to find a woman who