by Dilly Court
Jenny wrinkled her nose. ‘Funny habits them foreigners have. I wouldn’t fancy washing my face with all them greenfly swishing around in the water, not to mention the odd bug.’ She left the room, allowing the door to swing shut behind her.
Kate laughed for the first time since she had left Delhi, and then she began to cry. The tears that she had shed since parting with Ash were nothing compared to the heart-broken sobs that now shook her whole body. She collapsed on the bed, unable to control her pent-up emotions for a moment longer, but the storm of crying had passed by the time Jenny reappeared with the water. She set the jug down on the washstand and moved to the side of the bed.
‘You’re tired out, miss. Upsadaisy, now. Let’s get you washed and into your nightie. I was just the same as you after I come back from Lady Dalrymple’s place. Run all the way, I did, and when I come home I didn’t know if I was to get a clip round the ear or a cuddle. Got both, as it happened, but Ma never made me go back there.’ Jenny helped Kate to her feet and undressed her, talking all the time so that there was no need for Kate to respond other than a nod every now and then.
When Kate was settled in bed, propped up by a soft bank of pillows, Jenny stood back with a nod of approval. ‘That’s better. I’ll fetch you a nice hot cup of chocolate, shall I? I knows that Ma has some in because I was sent out special to fetch some when she got the letter to say you was arriving today. Your ma just drank a cup and she lay back in bed and was asleep afore I got to the door.’ She left the room without waiting to see if her suggestion had been accepted.
Kate sighed and closed her eyes. Sometimes it was nice to be treated like a child again. Tomorrow she would organise herself and start a new life back in London. She would put all thoughts of Ash, India and the events she had witnessed from her mind. It would all be forgotten – it must be forgotten, or she would go mad with grief. She drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
There was a strained atmosphere next morning at breakfast. Sir Bartholomew was hidden behind the pages of The Times, lowering it only to ask someone to pass the butter or marmalade. Arabella looked pale with dark shadows under her eyes, and Kate was concerned.
‘Did you sleep well, Mama?’
‘Yes, although I think I was overtired.’
Sir Bartholomew rattled the crisp pages of the newspaper. ‘Might we take breakfast in silence? I have only a few minutes to study current affairs before I have to leave for my chambers.’
‘You are not returning to work today, are you, my dear?’ Arabella asked wearily. ‘Surely you will allow yourself one day of rest after the long journey.’
‘Nonsense. Of course I must. I’m not a gentleman of leisure, Arabella. Thanks to the rebellion my position with the East India Company is no longer tenable, and I need to re-establish myself in my old practice. Heaven knows what state it’s in financially after leaving Harte in charge for three years.’
Kate toyed with the buttered eggs on her plate. She was not hungry, but she knew it would cause a fuss if she did not eat.
‘I thought you trusted Peregrine Harte, Papa.’
Sir Bartholomew shot her a warning glance. ‘This has nothing to do with you, Katherine.’
‘But he’s such a nice young man,’ Arabella said timidly. ‘You always spoke highly of him, my dear.’
‘Niceness doesn’t necessary equate with efficiency, Arabella. But I wouldn’t expect either of you to understand anything about business. That’s my prerogative, and I intend to go to Lincoln’s Inn this morning and surprise Harte and the rest of those who work for me. They will have to account for themselves if I’m not satisfied with their performance.’ Sir Bartholomew folded his newspaper and laid it on the table as he rose from his seat. ‘Don’t allow the servants to dispose of this – I’ll study it later, after dinner. By the way, I have a fancy for lamb collops – tell Cook – and apple pie with custard. I want proper English food again.’
‘Yes, dear. I’ll speak to Cook this morning.’
Kate waited until her father had left the dining room. ‘Why do you let him speak to you like that, Mama?’
‘It’s just his way.’ Arabella turned away to dab her lips on her white damask table napkin, but not before Kate had seen her mother’s eyes redden with unshed tears.
‘You have allowed him to bully you, and now he does it all the time.’
‘He is the head of the household, Kate, dear. You will have to give in to your husband when you marry. It’s how things are done.’
Kate pushed her plate away. ‘Not by me, Mama. If a man tried to dominate me like that I would not put up with it.’
A wan smile curved Arabella’s lips. ‘So you say now, but it’s different once you have a wedding ring on your finger. Your husband will own you and all that you possess, and any children you may be lucky enough to have will belong to him. That’s the law, and I don’t think it will ever change, because men make up the rules and we women have to abide by them.’
Kate had a sudden vision of the fighting she had witnessed outside her uncle’s palatial residence in Delhi, and she shuddered. ‘Then it’s time women stood up for themselves.’
‘Don’t let your father hear you saying things like that, Kate. He would be most displeased.’
‘Yes, Mama, I know.’ Kate bit back the harsh words that sprang to her lips. She was tired of seeing her mother browbeaten and bullied without uttering a word of reproach, but she also knew that nothing she could do or say would change either of her parents. ‘Is there anything I can do to help today? You really should rest.’
‘If you would speak to Cook and tell her what your papa has requested for dinner tonight that would be an enormous weight off my mind. I think I might go to my room and rest for a while longer. I’m sure Mrs Marsh can handle things perfectly well without me.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Kate stood up, leaving her food barely touched. ‘I’ll go now.’
‘You need not worry unduly about money, my dear,’ Arabella said hastily. ‘Despite what your papa said about his chambers’ finances, we still have an income from your late grandfather’s estate, although, of course, your uncle Edgar inherited the bulk of the fortune.’
‘That’s a comfort, Mama. At least I know that you will be looked after, no matter what.’ Kate left the room and headed along the corridor to the green baize door that separated the family above stairs from the servants’ quarters and kitchens.
A burst of steam enveloped her as she entered the large room in the basement. Cook was sprawled in a chair by the range while a young kitchen maid struggled to knead a large mound of bread dough.
‘Don’t tickle it, you stupid girl. Pummel the dough, pretend it is your worst enemy—’ Cook broke off as she spotted Kate standing in the doorway. She heaved herself to her feet. ‘Excuse me, Miss Kate. I didn’t see you there.’
There was a sudden awkward silence, and a young slavey emerged from the steamy scullery, wiping her hands on her already wet apron. Kate held up her hand. ‘Please don’t stop on my account. I’ve come to give you the order for dinner tonight, Mrs Pugh.’
Cook swallowed convulsively and the colour deepened on her red cheeks. ‘I’ve already started boiling the ox head, Miss Kate. I haven’t had time to order meat from the butcher.’
‘My father has requested lamb collops followed by apple pie and custard. I’m sure that isn’t beyond the bounds of possibility.’
‘But the stew is already simmering on the hob, miss. We wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow and I got no one to send to market to get what I need to make such a meal.’
‘If you give me a list I’ll go,’ Kate said firmly. ‘I have nothing else to do.’
‘But you can’t go to market on your own, miss. It just ain’t done.’
‘I can do anything I want, Mrs Pugh.’
‘I’ll go with Miss Kate.’ Jenny bustled into the kitchen. ‘I’ve just helped Lady Martin upstairs to her room, so I’m not needed for a while.’
‘You’re getting above y
ourself, Jenny Marsh. You ain’t officially a lady’s maid, you know.’
‘Yes, she is, Mrs Pugh,’ Kate said firmly. ‘Jenny is my mother’s personal maid and mine as well. I will go to market, and Jenny will show me the way. She can help me to carry the items you require. Jenny, please make a list while I get ready to go out.’
It was a bright morning, still very chilly by Kate’s standards, but the sun was shining and it was good to be out of the house. Jenny knew all the backstreets and she suggested that they should walk rather than take a cab to the market. The route took Kate through areas she had not known until now, and when they finally cut through Lincoln’s Inn on their way to Clare Market, Kate was shocked to see the poverty of the surrounding narrow streets and alleyways. The stark contrast between the sedate environs of Lincoln’s Inn and the narrow, poverty-stricken streets took her breath away. Jenny, however, seemed quite at home and unafraid of the men who gathered together, huddled over burning braziers, calling out in a way that would have caused Kate’s mother to faint with horror. Jenny merely laughed as she steered Kate to the butcher’s shop that she said Cook preferred, and having purchased the meat they bought vegetables and apples from one of the many costermongers’ stalls.
Jenny knew the pieman who walked amongst the crowd selling his wares, and she persuaded Kate to buy one and see if she agreed that it was the best she had ever eaten. In the end they shared a pie with a glistening golden crust, stuffed with tasty beef and onions. Kate tried to ignore the hollow-eyed stare of the ragged, barefoot children who followed them like hungry birds ready to swoop on fallen crumbs. She bought a bag of buns from a passing vendor and tossed it to the nearest child, who was lost beneath a sea of flailing arms and legs as the others fell on him in an attempt to steal the food.
‘Best walk on, miss,’ Jenny said in a low voice. ‘Don’t stop for nothing.’
They had reached the comparative safety of Lincoln’s Inn when a stern voice called Kate’s name.
‘Oh, my goodness,’ she said with her mouth full of pie. ‘That’s my papa. What shall I do now, Jenny? He’ll have a fit if he knows I’ve been to the market.’
‘Run,’ Jenny said, laughing. ‘Run as fast as you can.’
Chapter Two
Kate needed no further encouragement, but she was hindered by her voluminous skirts, and her tight stays made it almost impossible to catch her breath. The heavy basket of groceries also impeded her movements, and she was in danger of losing the contents. It seemed for a moment as if they had escaped, but as they emerged into the Strand, Kate found her father’s junior partner barring her way.
‘Good morning, Kate.’ Peregrine Harte stood before them, looking impressive with his black gown blowing in the wind like a raven’s wings and his white wig covering his hair. ‘Your father would like to speak to you.’
‘Good morning, Perry.’ Kate eyed him curiously. She had known Perry when he started pupillage in her father’s practice, and she was not going to be intimidated by the barrister’s wig and gown. ‘You may tell my father that his request for a certain dinner menu necessitated a trip to the market, and I’m on my way home.’
‘I’m merely the messenger,’ Peregrine said with a wry smile.
‘Then you’ve said your piece. Please let me pass.’
He backed away. ‘I’ll tell Sir Bartholomew that his dinner tonight depends upon your getting the ingredients back to the kitchen.’
Kate met his amused gaze with a reluctant smile. ‘It would be simpler if you said you couldn’t catch up with me. My father will cross-examine you until you enter a plea of guilty.’
‘Ah, but I have had three years at the bar since you and I last met. I will stand my ground.’
‘I’m sure you will,’ Kate said automatically. ‘Come, Jenny. I think we’d better hail a cab or Cook will be sending out a search party.’
Perry stepped into the road and raised his hand to attract a cabby’s attention. ‘I hope we meet again soon, Kate, but in more relaxed circumstances.’ He strode off in the direction of the court building.
The cab drew to a halt at the kerb and Kate climbed in first, giving the cabby instructions to take them to Finsbury Square, and with a flick of his whip the vehicle moved off, barely allowing Jenny time to settle herself on the seat. Kate sat in silence as they travelled through the streets that had once been so familiar to her.
‘Is that man in a wig your friend, Miss Kate?’ Jenny broke the silence, causing Kate to turn to her with a start.
‘Perry?’ She shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t call him a friend, exactly. I knew him before we went to India. He did his pupillage at my father’s chambers and became a fully fledged barrister before we left the country. He’s done well for himself.’
‘He seems to like you, miss,’ Jenny said shyly. ‘I think he’s ever so good-looking.’
‘I suppose he is.’ Kate found herself comparing Perry’s English good looks with Ashok’s dark handsomeness, and she sighed.
‘I suppose he’s very rich, like your family, miss.’
Kate was about to deny their affluence, and then she recalled the narrow lanes and alleys surrounding Clare Market, and the poverty she had seen on the way home from the docks. For once, she had nothing to say. Even so, the ragged adults and undernourished children scrabbling about beneath the costermongers’ barrows for scraps of food was something she would find hard to forget. The horrors of the uprising seemed like another world, but London was her home, and she found herself unprepared for the reality she now faced. It seemed impossible that she had grown up in the city without ever noticing the huge differences between those who had money and those who had next to nothing. She returned home knowing that her life had changed inexorably.
When Kate awakened each morning in her comfortable bed, she knew that today would be exactly the same as the one that had just passed. She was restless and desperate for news from Delhi. She accosted the postman every day, but the letter she longed for did not arrive, and she had no idea whether Ash was alive or dead. For all she knew, if he had survived the battles, he might now be languishing in some military hospital, badly wounded and fighting for his life.
The newspapers were filled with lurid accounts of the atrocities on both sides, but Kate dared not allow herself to imagine how she would feel if she learned that Ash had been killed in action. They might never meet again, but she would like to think of him living a long and happy life.
As for herself, Kate knew that she must do something to fill the void created by their separation. She toyed with the idea of seeking employment, but the professions were male dominated, and young women from well-to-do families were expected to remain dutifully at home until they married. Kate was aware that most parents went out of their way to introduce their unmarried daughters to suitable young men, but her father had his sights set firmly on becoming a High Court judge and was rarely at home. Her mother had met up with old friends who were avid fund raisers for a new lead roof on their local church and other worthy charities, and she spent most afternoons at meetings or taking tea with like-minded ladies.
Kate was left very much to her own devices, with little chance of establishing a social life of her own. Her father saw no point in spending money on entertaining, and despite Arabella’s pleas, he turned down invitations to dine with acquaintances. He refused to take his wife and daughter on frivolous outings to the theatre, although occasionally he might suggest they accompany him to a lecture at the Royal Society, which Arabella found the courage to decline. The fact that her parents had embraced life in London to the exclusion of herself made Kate even more determined to make her own way. She was desperate to return to Delhi even though the situation was still perilous, but the pin money given to her by her father was her only source of income. She scoured the ‘Situations Vacant’ columns in The Times, hoping to find a family who needed a governess or even a lady’s maid to accompany them to India, but after two months she was beginning to lose hope.
Perr
y was a regular visitor to the house in Finsbury Square, but he came only when he needed to discuss cases in private with Sir Bartholomew. Even so, he always found time to chat with Kate and she looked forward to seeing him, although not for any romantic reason. Perry brought a breath of fresh air into the stuffy household, where the only lively person was Jenny Marsh. Without Jenny’s cheerful chatter and plain common sense, Kate doubted if she would have survived the first weeks at home. Despite the many letters she had sent to her uncle in Delhi, she had not had a single reply, and she had begun to fear the worst.
One morning, unable to bear the stress any longer, Kate went to her father’s study where she found him studying a document with Perry.
‘What is it, Kate?’ Sir Bartholomew said crossly. ‘You know better than to interrupt me when I’m discussing a client.’
‘Yes, I’m sorry, Papa. I just wondered if you’d heard from Uncle Edgar. I’m very anxious about him.’
‘My brother can take care of himself. Given the circumstances, I wouldn’t expect to receive any communication from him until the present situation is resolved.’
Perry cleared his throat. ‘I have all the information I need, sir. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll return to chambers.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Sir Bartholomew waved him away. ‘And you should be helping your mother, Kate. I’m sure she has a committee or something for you to join.’ He turned away and picked up a sheaf of papers, and Kate knew that she had been dismissed. She left the study, followed by Perry. He caught up with her as she was about to cross the entrance hall.
‘It must be a worry for you, Kate. I mean, you’re obviously very fond of your uncle, and judging by what the newspapers say, things are bad out there at the moment.’
‘Yes, I love my uncle. He was always very kind to me. He never married and I suppose I’m the nearest thing he has to a daughter.’
