Forever Ashley (10 page)

Holding her nose, she lifted the spoon to her mouth. She
wouldn’t think about what she was doing. Someone would come to rescue her.

Someone just had to.

Night fell, shrouding the cell in almost total darkness.
Ashley lay huddled on the straw, exhausted, but too scared to close her eyes.
She watched as the rats crept out of hiding to feast on the gruel splattered on
the floor.

Exhausted, toward dawn she finally covered her face with her
hands and sobbed, losing hope now. No one would come. She would die in this
nasty hole, and there would be no one to even claim her body.

As dawn broke, a loud clatter brought Ashley upright. She
looked about her, realizing that she must have dozed off. She absently
scratched her arm and sniffled.

A ray of pale sunlight filtered through the bars as she got
slowly to her feet. She scratched again, glancing down to find something
crawling up her arm. Leaning closer to the light, she saw it was some sort of
an insect.

Lice.

Jumping up and down, she tried to shake loose the vermin
that had taken up residence in her skirt.

Screaming, she jumped harder and faster, realizing that the
straw was infested with the tiny bugs.

By now she was making so much racket that the jailer heard
her and came to investigate.

“What‘s going on in there?” a voice outside her door
demanded harshly.

“Bugs! In my skirt!” Ashley cried.

“Make her be quiet, gov’nor!” a disgruntled voice whined
from a nearby cell. “The wench be a bloody annoyance, she is!”

Ashley didn’t care if she was being a nuisance. She wasn’t
living with lice! She stomped harder, prancing up and down, screaming.

“Be quiet in there!” the jailer ordered.

But Ashley couldn’t be quiet. She felt as if there were
thousands of the tiny insects crawling on her. “Don’t just stand there, do
something,” she yelled.

After unlocking the cell door, the jailer stepped inside. “I
want it bloody quiet in here, do you understand!”

“I want a bath—a shower! Do you understand?”

The jailer left, then returned a moment later with a hand
full of cord.

Realizing what he was about to do, Ashley started backing
away. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re not going to tie me up!

The jailer smiled.

“You’d better not.” She pressed herself against the wall,
watching warily as he started toward her.

He wouldn’t tie her up. He wouldn’t dare.

Late that afternoon, Ashley managed to struggle to her feet,
heavy cord bound tightly around her wrists and ankles. If it wasn’t for the rag
stuffed in her mouth, she’d scream her head off.

After hopping to the window, she peeked out between the bars
again. The courtyard was still empty. She didn’t know what she hoped she’d
find. The prison wasn’t exactly a hub of activity.

She was about to turn away when she suddenly heard voices.
Standing on her tiptoes, she saw the jailer and Joseph Warren striding across
the courtyard.

Joseph Warren, one of the men at the meeting! Spotting the
medical bag he carried, she realized he must be there to attend to one of the
prisoners.

Bouncing up and down, Ashley attempted to draw the
physician’s attention.

“Dctor Warren! Doctor Warren!” Engrossed in conversation
with the jailer, the doctor failed to hear her muffled cries. Look this way!
Ashley agonized. “Doctor Warren! Doctor Warren!”

Oblivious, the doctor stepped through an entryway a moment
later and disappeared.

Wilting with disappointment, Ashley tried to think. How was
she going to make the doctor aware of her presence? She had to get out of
there. Though it would probably mean being back in Aaron Kenneman’s care,
anything would be an improvement over this rat  and lice infested cage.

After hopping to the bucket, Ashley began to kick it toward
the door of her cell with the tips of her toes. If Warren was here to treat a
prisoner, then, with any luck, she might be able to attract his attention.

As she heard the sound of a door being unlocked and men’s
voices as they came down the corridor, her feet worked faster. Hurry, hurry!
They’re coming closer. Her feet dragged across the dirt floor as fast as the
cord tightly binding her ankles would allow. The voices were very near now. The
doctor would be approaching her cell any moment.

“Octor Warorjn!” Her face burned as she tried to be heard.

She dropped to her knees and worked the bucket upright with
her nose.

Then she rolled to her feet, drew a deep breath, and lunged
forward in a reckless attempt to hop on the bucket.

With a noisy clatter, the bucket went one way and her bound
feet flew the other. "Ohd shoodt!” She rolled to her side, groaning. Just
great. Now she’d broken her arm.

Warren’s stride slackened at the sounds of muffled cursing
and frenzied thrashing coming from the end cell. He paused, frowning.

The jailer glanced irritably at Ashley’s cell. Why did he,
Thomas Bulfoonery, have to be stuck with the idiots! “’Tis only the wench,” he
told the doctor. “No need for alarm.”

“Is the poor soul in distress?” Warren asked.

“Nay, only a saucy halfwit.”

The two men continued down the corridor.

Warren was getting away! She had to stop him. Groaning,
Ashley rolled to the door, banging her feet on the heavy wood, yelling
"Octor Warorjn!”

Hesitating a second time, the doctor turned to look over his
shoulder in the direction of the commotion. “I say, good man, are you certain
the wench doesn’t need assistance?”

“Nay, only a sound thrashing, gov’nor.”

The doctor and jailer proceeded as the pounding grew more
persistent.

“Octor Warorjn! Octor Warorjn! HeUhp meee! Pleadse!”

 “Now see here!” The jailer lost all patience with the
worrisome wench. He whirled on his heel, stalked back to Ashley’s cell, shoved
the key into the door, and muttered, “The wench is nothing but a bloody
nuisance!”

The door swung open, and Ashley nearly fainted with relief
when she saw Joseph Warren staring down at her.

Recognizing her as the woman Aaron Kenneman was supposed to
be watching, Warren looked aghast. "What is this woman doing here?” he
snapped.

“She’s daft, Doctor, pay her no heed.”

“How long has she been here?”

“Only a spell,” the jailer replied, puzzled that the good
doctor should inquire.

“Release this woman immediately!”

“Aye?”

“Release her. This woman isn’t daft,” Warren rebuked,
pretending to be shocked by the man’s lack of compassion.

“She isn’t?”

“No!”

The jailer eyed Ashley suspiciously. “Then what be wrong
with her?”

“Putrid fever.”

Ashley’s eyes widened. Putrid fever?

Bulfoonery viewed his ward suspiciously. “She don’t look
feverish.”

“Are you a doctor?” Warren challenged.

“Nay, gov’nor.”

‘Then I would be well pleased if you would let me make the
diagnosis.”

As he knelt beside her, Warren removed the rag from Ashley’s
mouth, then reached into his bag.

“What are you going to do?” she hissed.

“Don’t say a word,” Warren whispered as he bent closer to
peer into her eyes. “Yes...ummm...definitely putrid fever.”

“Ach, we’ll have an epidemic!” the jailer exclaimed. He
backed into the hallway, his face a mask of horror.

Ashley remembered that spotted fever had been almost
epidemic in Boston at one time. She struggled to recall how it was treated, but
could not.

“I must purge her,” Warren announced. “And I must do it
immediately.”

Purge? Purge! Oh, good Lord! “No!" she wailed, but
Warren was already rummaging in his bag.

“Remain quiet,” he threatened in a low voice, “or I shall
leave you here.”

“You wouldn’t dare...I’ll scream all I know about you and
Kenneman and Revere—!”

Warren clamped his hand over her mouth. He had no doubt that
she would. Even though she was considered daft, he could not afford to leave
her there. If she babbled about the meeting and those in attendance, her words
might strike a chord of truth with the wrong people. He could not permit that
to happen.

In a louder voice, the doctor said, “This should do it.”
Ashley watched wild-eyed as he poured a vile syrup from a brown bottle into a
large tablespoon.

“This should make you feel better,” he soothed. Ashley’s
stomach turned, and she clamped her mouth shut tightly.

‘Take it!” Dr. Warren warned.

Ashley’s mind raced. If I swallow that stuff, I’ll be sick
as a dog. If I don’t...I’ll still be in jail and sick as a dog.

She opened her mouth, gagging as the doctor spooned the
concoction down her throat. Whatever the medication was, it tasted worse than
castor oil, worse than coal oil, worse than...She swallowed, wishing she were
dead. Shuddering, she struggled to keep it down.

“That should do it,” Warren said, tossing the bottle and
spoon into his black bag. After helping Ashley to her feet, the doctor smiled
as he collected her bag. “I must move her to the pest house so the fever
doesn’t spread.” Ashley’s head spun and her stomach lurched. Pressure to
relieve herself of the vile syrup was building in her stomach. She wouldn’t
have to pretend to be ill by the time Warren escorted her out of the jail. She
was sick

The jailer’s keys jangled loudly as he snatched them from
his belt. “Aye, Doctor. The sooner the better!”

“It would be wise to clear the halls to avoid anyone
contracting the fever,” Warren advised.

“Aye, gov’nor, to be sure...but there be no one in the halls,”
he said blankly.

‘Then stand back, my good man. ‘Tis a most infectious and
nasty scourge,” he confided.

Minutes later the doctor emerged from the jail, escorting a
pale-faced Ashley.

Warren hurriedly assisted Ashley into his buggy, then took
his seat. He snapped the reins against his horse’s rump, and the carriage
lurched forward. Ashley’s hand shot to her mouth and she glanced at him
frantically.

‘Try to restrain yourself until we are safely down the
road,” the doctor cautioned.

But they were only a few yards from the jail when she hung
her head over the side and let go.

When the violent seizure finally passed, she struggled to
right herself again.

The doctor, looking straight ahead, grinned.

“What was that horrible stuff you gave me?” She groaned weakly.

The doctor’s grin widened. “Puke.”

“Puke?” Ashley bolted to hang her head over the side again.

“Tis only a purge,” the doctor said cheerily. “You shall
feel ill for a few hours, but I can assure you that you will live.”

Ashley leaned back, spent. That’s what she was afraid

of.

****

Lying limply back against the seat, Ashley watched the road
roll by. They had been riding for over thirty minutes, but they didn’t seem to
be getting anywhere.

“Why did you rescue me?” she finally asked.

“Because you are a danger to our plans. What has happened to
Kenneman? Why are you not with him?”

“Dr. Kenneman tied me up in a cow shed—stop the buggy!” she
suddenly demanded.

Warren pulled to the side of the road, and Ashley scrambled
out of the carriage and headed for the bushes again.

Warren called after her. “Be quick about it—”

He broke off as the sound of a horse approaching at a gallop
caught their attention.

Aaron rode up, reining his horse to a halt. “Warren, I have
been looking for you!”

“And I can well imagine why,” Warren returned. “Are you
missing something?”

“The woman.” Aaron’s face colored. “Have you seen her?”

“Mayhap I have.”

“Where?”

Warren nodded toward the bushes.

“Where did you find her?”

“I discovered our comely spy in the jail.”

‘The jail!”

“’Tis a lengthy tale that can be explored later. I’m taking
her to Church in belief that he will be capable of restraining her until a
decision about her fate can be decided.”

“He’ll need God’s speed,” Aaron grumbled.

Ashley heard a squeak of leather and the sound of someone
walking through the weeds toward her, but she couldn’t have moved if her life
depended on it. She lay supine on the grass, staring glassy-eyed at the clear
blue sky.

“Ashley?”

She managed to open one eye a narrow slit and found a
familiar pair of pewter-gray eyes looking down on her. “So, we meet again.”

“Yeah, how about that.” She rolled to her side, holding her
stomach.

“Are you ill?”

“I’m dying,” she croaked.

“What happened?”

“Ask Dr. Frankenstein.”

Aaron frowned. “Who?”

Ashley motioned feebly toward the buggy.

“What’s the matter with her?” he called to Warren.

“In order to remove her from the jail, I had to convince the
jailer that she had putrid fever. To make it convincing, I gave her a puke.”

“You gave her puke?” Aaron whistled sympathetically. “’Tis a
powerful purge.”

“There was no alternative. It was imperative that she be
moved without arousing suspicion.”

Ashley opened one eye. Was that a chuckle she heard? “I gave
her only a half dose,” Warren called again. Half dose?

“Are you all right?” Aaron leaned forward, touching her
forehead to make sure she wasn’t feverish.

“No, I’m sick!”

“Can you sit up?”

“No,” she whispered, afraid he was going to insist.

“Warren, Church isn’t home. I saw him on the road to
Lexington early this morning,” Aaron called.

Church. Ashley tried to think. Why did that name trouble
her?

“Then what shall we do with her?” Warren asked.

After drawing a long breath, Aaron released it slowly. “I’ll
assume responsibility for her again.”

“You tried that once. It didn’t work.”

“I will be more alert this time.”