by Janet Woods
Grace wasn’t sure he had missed her head, for it was beginning to ache, probably due to Jancy’s chatter.
Jancy ended with, ‘’Tis only a little tub and you’re only a small young lady, but I reckon you’ll have to stand while we rinse you off, miss.’ You can hold on to the back of the chair for support while I do that … lest you feel dizzy.’
A small torrent of warm water from a jug disposed of the foam, and a towel was wrapped snugly round her body. Her hair was subjected to a vigorous rubbing with another towel.
Grace’s childhood nanny had used the same method, and Grace made a sound in her throat. Jancy rubbed harder and the sound turned into a rather unmusical warble as she went up and down the scale.
They both laughed when she finished, and then Jancy reached for a hairbrush and applied it gently to the tangles. ‘There’s a lovely mane of hair you’ve got. I’m sorry the tub is so small. I expect you’re used to a bigger one.’
Not for the last year or so, though, Grace thought. Her father had believed in hygiene, and crude bathing facilities were installed in the laundry room of their home. Even the servants were obligated to soap themselves down and rinse themselves off with a dowse of cold water once a week – to fortify the blood, he’d said. That cold drench was to be feared, for the shock of it drove the breath from Grace’s body in one shivering gasp. Afterwards she felt quite lively, so there had been some truth in her father’s words.
Jancy was still making her wishes known to fate. ‘One day I’d like to take a proper bath, one I could lay down in with my head sticking out at one end and my feet at the other. In fact, I’d like a proper bathing room where the water came out of a spout into the bath. Raff reckons the water could be piped to the bathing room. I met a woman who worked over Wiltshire way. She said, not only did they have a bathing room upstairs but two water closets as well. It was all on the first floor in a tiled room where guests could take their ease and bathe in comfort, and done all private like, hidden behind a curtain.’
‘How could they get the water to flow upstairs in the first place?’ Grace asked.
Jancy shrugged and looked doubtful. ‘I couldn’t quite grasp that bit. The pipes were connected to a stream running under the house, I believe.’
Grace wouldn’t mind a similar arrangement, a proper tub – one with a pillow to lay her head on. She would close her eyes and float in the warm water, her body relaxed while she daydreamed.
Grace borrowed one of her father’s wisdoms. ‘We must just be thankful to be alive. The human body has been provided with a wonderful capacity to heal itself, given time.’
‘That it has, but we rarely have the time to practise the healing bit since life as a servant is all get up and go.’
‘It is that.’
Grace was beset by guilt. ‘I’m sorry I’m being such a nuisance.’
‘You’re not a nuisance, Miss Ellis. It’s lovely having another woman to talk to. Once I’ve emptied the tub I’ll cook you something to eat. A bowl of oats with some stewed apple perhaps, and a glass of milk with a spoonful of honey in to strengthen you. There’s nothing better than milk to build up your strength and I’ll put a little brandy in it.’
Grace’s newly found energy quickly faded after she’d made the effort to bathe and eat. She sat on a chair at the window, comfortably drowsing, while Jancy bustled around her, emptying the bathwater and doing chores. She gazed at the view outside, at the dark green cascade of ivy almost obliterating the small cottage window and began to feel weepy. Damn it, she’d wanted to stay awake, she thought, when her eyelids began to droop. She forced them to stay open while she took in what she could see of her surrounds, in case she needed to run away.
Run away from what? More importantly, to where? Certainly not to Oakford House. She’d never go there again, not by choice and not by herself. It felt as though the house had turned on her.
Rafferty’s cottage was on a slope at the edge of a forest. It was small, and of the type of dwelling used by a gamekeeper or woodsman.
A flash of red and a robin alighted on the ivy. Holding her breath she watched it dart amongst the leaves searching for insects. Then she blinked and he saw her and fled, leaving a trill of warning behind him.
The bed beckoned, the quilt caught in a thin beam of pale sunlight that turned it into jewel colours. ‘A pretty quilt … did you make it?’ she asked Jancy and the woman smiled.
‘I helped my mother make it, she work for a dressmaker and was allowed to take the scraps home. She taught me how to sew while we worked together making the quilt and I’m taking it with me when we leave. She called it our winter quilt. Raff’s woman has got her eye on it. I told her if she wants a quilt she can make her own.’
Yawning, Grace rested her eyes for a moment. The lids felt heavy, as though she had no control over them. She struggled to keep them open.
‘Would you help me back to bed please, Jancy? I’m exhausted?’ Tears squeezed from under her lids and trickled down her cheeks.
‘There, there, I’ve been talking too much and I’ve worn you out.’
Grace heard her father’s voice. ‘Shock affects people in different ways, my dear … Listen to your body. Sleep if you need to and I’ll look after you.’
‘Just a short nap then, Papa,’ she murmured, and thus comforted her thoughts drifted into a soothing twilight. Though drifting, she felt her body begin to heal. Like a clock it was one tick at a time. She was aware of things going on around her. Once she thought she saw Dominic’s face, and felt his kiss against her cheek, as soft and dreamy as thistledown, and she knew he was watching over her too.
Sometimes the room was light and sometimes gloomy as though clouds sailed over the sun. A horse neighed and her eyes flew open. ‘Argus!’
A voice said against her ear, ‘No, it’s me, Dominic.’
‘But I heard you neigh.’
He chuckled. ‘That was Argus singing you a song. You’re regaining your wit so you must be improving. I thought you’d never wake. How do you feel?’
Her gaze tangled with his, slightly befuddled. His eyes were full of concern. She hated him seeing her so dishevelled. ‘I feel wobbly and would probably fall on my face if I tried to stand, but I do feel stronger. I didn’t hear you come in, I’m so happy to see you.’
‘Then why the tears?’
‘I don’t know. I think I may be feeling sorry for myself.’
He chuckled as he gently dabbed at the tears with a handkerchief. ‘You have reason to. You were asleep when I arrived, and that was half an hour ago. ‘You’ve been asleep on and off for a few days, and I’ve been worried.’
The thought was almost unbearable. ‘You needn’t have worried, my papa watched over me and my head feels clearer now.’
A dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth when he smiled, and his voice filled with laughter. ‘Your papa, did you say? I didn’t see him when I came in. You should ask him to call on mine when he’s got the time. Perhaps they could share a jug of ale.’
‘Please stop being a tease, I miss him and I thought I heard him whisper just as I went to sleep. He said I needed plenty of sleep to heal, and he’d watch over me. The thought comforted me. It’s no different from your mother shooting across the sky on a star.’
Reaching out she touched his face in case he thought she was out to destroy his boyhood dreams.
Her hand was cupped in his and he bore it to his mouth and placed a kiss in her palm before folding her fingers over it. ‘Forgive me for being insensitive.’
How could she do otherwise when he was looking into her eyes with such a soft, tender expression? ‘You’re forgiven.’
‘Do you think our parents would approve of us?’ he asked.
She chose not to interpret that as a reference to them as a couple. Of course her father wouldn’t approve of her embarking on a love affair with Dominic. However, had she been born a son, the result of her journey through the tender years into manhood would have been quite a different aff
air than her journey into womanhood.
Even though he’d been a doctor, her father had been embarrassed as he’d tackled the subject of her impending womanhood. He’d warned her of several traps lying in wait for the unattached female, of disease stemming from loose living the most unspeakable, and leading to death. Not that it had stopped him in practice, she’d learned much later. Further enquiries brought an irritable, ‘Men are weak, and women are stoic. That’s all you need to know.’
He’d suggested she should wed as soon as possible and bear her husband some children because that was why she’d been a born a female … besides, that’s what her mother would have wanted for her, he’d added as an afterthought, and that had been that.
Dominic cleared his throat to capture her attention, his head slanted to one side as he waited patiently for her answer.
She skirted around his question as best as she was able. ‘My father was imprudent in his ways, but I loved him nevertheless. He would have downed several glasses of brandy while deliberating on the subject, and then examined you for disease. After that he’d shoot you for trifling with my affections, I imagine.’
Though looking slightly shocked, Dominic managed a chuckle. ‘Examine me for disease? Shoot me! It doesn’t sound as though he’d be able to stand up straight enough to take aim.’
‘They left us, not the other way around, which is not to say we shouldn’t act on the wisdom of the guidance they offered us while they lived. I miss my mother all the more because I never knew her, and because of that I sometimes feel betrayed by her, though I know it wasn’t her fault that she died. My father did his best. Tell me about your mother, Dominic?’
He thought for a moment, a slightly guarded look on his face. ‘I have always held my mother in the greatest respect. I admit though, that I built her up in my mind. Eugenie became a mother to us and we love her dearly. My mother was a magical figure that occupied my mind. She would have liked you, I think, as will Eugenie. As for my father, he was similar to yours, except he had sons of whom he was proud. Now we have their approval do you feel strong enough to make the journey to Dorset?’
‘Will you be travelling with me?’
‘I have to finish my business here first. It’s taken longer than I expected. My brother will look after you, and Rafferty Jones will accompany you as far as Poole.’
‘Do you trust him, Dominic?’
‘Not entirely, but my brother will run him through if the need arises.’
The thought startled her. ‘Good gracious … does your brother often do that to people? He appears to be so pleasant and relaxed.’
A grin slowly traversed his face. ‘Don’t let his lazy manner fool you. Alex is a crack shot, and good with a sword … though I’ve never known him to use his skills in anger, there is always a first time, especially if those he loves are threatened. As for Raff, he’s wary of entering the territory of his rivals. All the same, I’d rather have him for friend than foe, and money will secure his friendship. After all, he does regard himself as a businessman rather than a felon.’
‘Dominic, I suspect you don’t want me to meet the soldier. Why is that?’
‘You suspect right. Brigadier Crouch has a bad reputation and has been described as a rogue. I believe he’s fought, and won, several duels.’
‘Lady Florence told me he’s been mentioned in despatches on several occasions, so he must be brave.’
‘Or foolhardy.’
A knock came at the door and Alex said, ‘The carriage is here, Dom.’
‘We won’t be long.’
Grace couldn’t help but tease him a little. ‘Are you afraid he’ll be dashing and handsome and I might fall in love with him?’
Dominic’s brow wrinkled. ‘From my enquiries I believe the man to be unattractive. It’s said his lifestyle is written on his face. Though the fortune eventuating from such a union would tempt some women, I don’t believe you’re one of them, so no, I don’t think you’ll succumb to any temptation he might offer.’
‘Do you think I’m too scatterbrained to handle a fortune – that I’ll go out and spend a legacy on diamonds, rubies, and fans decorated with rare peacock feathers?’
‘You’re not the type of female who’d squander money on fripperies or to pluck a peacock and cause it to suffer nakedness for the sake of your vanity. You’re a sensible young woman, Gracie, but you wouldn’t have much say in the matter. Once the brigadier gets his hands on the estate he will likely gamble the fortune away, and in a very short time. You would be left with nothing but debtors queuing up outside the door. We both know what that’s like.’
Several moments of contemplative silence ensued while they gazed at each other. The connection between them was broken with a slightly ironic smile from Dominic. ‘I think I’d enjoy seeing you dressed in peacock feathers.’
‘First you must capture your bird and pluck it.’
‘Precisely … am I succeeding in that particular endeavour?’
More than he knew. She was reluctant to admit it though, for to do so would be to commit to a course of action she wasn’t quite ready to take yet. Love without honour … her mind elbowed the notion away. ‘I’m very much afraid you might try but I’m reluctant to encourage you to take the first step.’
Dominic placed himself in her shoes. Grace was young, innocent yet surprisingly strong-minded and even worldly at times, and she’d been subjected to a severe beating. According to Jancy, Grace had survived that by a whisker. She had nobody to turn to or confide in.
‘You needn’t be afraid of me, Gracie, I’ll not push you into anything you don’t want, though I might try and persuade you to stray from the straight and narrow from time to time.’
While her blush fired up again another line of poetry came to him. He placed it at the back of his mind.
But who would be revealed to whom when the moment of truth arrived?
‘The time will come when everything will be just right between us, and we’ll know it,’ he said, and was gone.
Fourteen
The plan was for the small group to travel during the busiest time of day. Grace and Jancy would occupy the inside of the carriage. The earl and Rafferty Jones would act as outriders, and they, as well as the coachman, would be armed.
The carriage was waiting for them on the road beyond the copse. The vehicle was well maintained, though a little scruffy on the outside. The interior was redolent of polished leather. Dark red curtains deflected the gaze of the curious but created a slightly suffocating effect.
Matching dark bay geldings completed the rig, well schooled and strong looking. They waited patiently, flicking their tails while the coachman began to secure the small amount of luggage on the rack. They turned and nodded their heads when the coachman patted their muscular rumps. ‘We’ll soon be off, my lovelies.’
The coachman was another member of the Jones’ family and a man of enterprise. He proved to be chatty. He’d purchased the carriage and pair at a bankrupt sale, he said, and had tidied them up and put them to work immediately.
Dominic ignored the fact that the man was a third cousin to Rafferty Jones, and, by association, was probably dishonest. The act of rescuing Grace had brought the Jones family together with his for the time being, but it wouldn’t take much for them to close ranks if needed.
The rig smelled a little of brandy, as though a keg had dripped some of its contents onto the floor. Dominic knew his assumption was unfair. It was obvious these people didn’t earn much, and were he in the same position he’d probably bend the law to his own advantage too.
Raff’s woman turned up. Betty Bunce was about thirty and carried the signs of a hard life on her face. Arms akimbo, mouth as pursed as a withered apple, she watched the luggage being loaded, saying nothing, but throwing the occasional harmful look at Jancy, who returned it with equal venom.
The sudden shriek that erupted from Betty made them all jump. ‘That bed quilt stays with the cottage, Jancy Jones.’
‘Wh
o says?’
‘I do say.’
‘Well, you can unsay it. I helped my mother make that quilt and it was a labour of love because she placed the last stitch the day before she died. I’m not handing it over to the likes of you.’
Betty turned to Raff. ‘You said I could have everything in the cottage.’
‘I didn’t know about it then, did I? Some things belong to Jancy, including half the cottage. If you don’t like it you can bloody well lump it.’
‘You must have seen them working on it.’
‘Mebbe I did and mebbe I didn’t, but I reckon this. You’ve got a needle and thread and you can get some cloth, so you can make your own damned quilt. That’s my last word on the subject.’
‘But you said I could have it. You should keep your word lessen it get out in the district that yours ’ain’t worth a tuppeny turd.’
‘Well it ’ain’t mine to give.’ Raff gave her a hard stare and dug his heels in. ‘I can’t give you something that isn’t mine.’
‘Perhaps and I’ll tell the revenue men.’
Raff cracked his muscles and the woman fell silent. Grace tried not to smile when the LéSayres men exchanged a grin and Dominic spun a coin. Alex snatched it from the air and slipped into his waistcoat pocket.
‘Get away home, Betty, who invited you here anyway?’
‘Nobody, but I heard something was going on and it involved a woman who’d been kept captive. I thought I’d come and see it with my own eyes.’
‘Well, have a good look because that’s the only one you’re getting. I hope you’re all the wiser for it.’
Grace was now being helped across the path towards the carriage, a veil covering her face.
‘I heard she was to be sold to a harem belonging to a camel seller. Make sure you get a good price for her.’
‘Her weight in peacock feathers,’ Dominic whispered and a snort came from under the veil.
Betty’s hands covered her stomach. ‘I came to make sure we got our fair share of the ransom. Don’t forget I’m carrying your brat.’
