‘Grace’s locket too,’ Sally-Ann said. ‘A bit late for her birthday, but never mind.’
‘Was Lady Darley’s ring returned?’
‘Yes. She was overwhelmed, you know, something good happening after everything else. Which reminds me. She needs the girls’ summer coats to be done over for mourning, and I suggested you. She’ll never find anyone better than you and she knows it.’
While Juliet waited in hope to hear from Lady Darley, she also waited for Inspector Crawley to tell her she was no longer under suspicion. And waited.
In the end, she marched to the police station and asked to see him, suffering agonies at the last minute in case Rosie’s plan hadn’t worked properly and her name was now associated with that of the bent pawnbroker.
‘You’re no longer a person of interest in this enquiry,’ the inspector informed her, and that was that. He couldn’t have been more ungracious, and she felt narked, then she shrugged it off. As she walked home, a weight slid off her.
But the best was yet to come. As she walked into Garden Cottage, Cecily waved a postcard at her.
‘Lady Darley wants you back – oh, what’s wrong? I thought you’d be pleased.’
‘I am, you dope,’ she managed to say before she dissolved into tears and walked into Cecily’s outstretched arms.
Chapter Thirty
A great many people attended the funeral, a lot of them grand ladies and gentlemen arriving by carriage. Juliet, there by virtue of having been employed as seamstress, took her place among the lower orders, from where she saw Lord Drysdale and Lady Margaret walk up the aisle. Whatever seamstress it was who had put Lady Margaret in that cape with the ruched black lace wanted her bumps feeling. A few folk around her wondered aloud who the distinguished strangers could be, but she didn’t enlighten them.
Outside, when it was over, she was threading her way through the quiet crowd when a conversation made her prick up her ears.
‘Who was that who walked in alongside Lady Darley? Her sister? Quite a lot older, if so.’
‘My dear, haven’t you heard? That was the heir – the heiress, I should say. Sir Henry was the last of the line. No more men, so the title dies with him.’
‘And that dumpy, middle-aged creature has inherited?’
‘Everything but the title. She’s plain Miss Brown, and having seen her, I shouldn’t think they come much plainer.’
‘What of Lady Darley? Will she stay on at Darley Court?’
‘My dear, we’re all waiting with bated breath. Would you want to keep your beautiful, titled predecessor? Of course, she might prefer to leave. I imagine there’ll be an annuity.’
Another voice chimed in. ‘I heard they’re knocking down the folly.’
‘Juliet,’ said a quiet voice. Hal, looking extraordinarily handsome in black. She almost pressed a hand to her heart, but restrained herself. ‘Do you have a few minutes?’ he asked.
She nodded, and he indicated that she should lead the way through the group of mourners.
Once they were clear, she asked, ‘Will the gardens be redesigned now Sir Henry’s gone?’
‘Yes, though not to the same extent.’
‘Miss Brown’s already decided? Even before the funeral?’
‘She got down to business right away. I thought it as well to be in the staff line-up when she arrived, and I can tell you, she may have gone upstairs a weary traveller, but she came back down very much mistress of the estate. Shall we go for a walk on the meadows? We need to talk, and I’m not going to let you dash off like you did last time. You mean far too much to me to let that happen.’
Little was said as they walked onto the meadows, where the torn-looking rosy petals of ragged robin wafted in the breeze above ground dotted with golden buttercups and early harebells. There was white clover, too, thick with bees.
She felt a wave of nostalgia. ‘Ella Dancy used to say the best honey came from clover. Did you know her?’
‘I can put a face to the name.’
‘Such a lovely face, too. It used to grieve me that someone so beautiful couldn’t get married, because of her domestic responsibilities.’
‘What of your responsibilities?’
‘I have more than enough to think about with my work, and Cecily and Archie are my family now. That’s Cecily’s little lad. He’s nearly six.’
‘And there’s your daughter. You had her adopted by Lady Darley.’
‘It was none of my doing!’ she exclaimed. ‘My grandmother sent me to a place where these matters are sorted out. I was never meant to know who …’ A throb raged in her throat, forcing her into silence.
‘She’s had the best possible start in life,’ Hal ventured.
‘Better than being the illegitimate child of a penniless girl, you mean? For your information, her so-called wonderful start included a father who blew his brains out and … and—’ And a stepfather who was looking forward to enjoying her in his vile way in years to come. She flung Hal a sidelong glance. ‘You’ve clearly decided adoption was the best thing.’
He stopped walking and turned to her. She could have touched him had she reached out. She clenched her hands into fists and buried them in the seams of her skirt.
‘I’m trying,’ Hal said, looking into her eyes and making it impossible for her to look away, ‘to give you my support. I’m trying to show you that, whatever happened to you, I would have stood by you, if I’d been there. I’m trying to show you respect and compassion.’
‘But you don’t know what happened.’
‘No, I don’t. I hope you’ll tell me. You’ve told me you bore a child. I never truly believed that until you said it, and it came as a colossal shock. But here I am. I haven’t walked away. I haven’t turned my back on you. I want to understand. Even after a separation of some years, I hope you still feel able to trust me.’
She did, oh, she did.
Could she speak of it? That other time, back at the folly, she had told herself she couldn’t – yet. She had vowed to concentrate all her effort and thought and determination on rescuing Lily. She had feared being weakened by an outpouring of old memories just when she most needed to be strong for the sake of another suffering girl.
Or had that been an excuse? Was she going to hug her shameful secrets to herself for ever? Fear, shame, loathing, the desperation to do right by Mother as she faced a lingering death. Her skin tightened all over her body. Inside her sleeves, the muscles in her arms went rigid. Dirty girl, grateful girl, stupid, stupid, stupid. The horrors of the past shoved the present aside, threatening to send her crumpling to the ground.
‘Juliet?’ Soft as Hal’s voice was, it penetrated the heartache that swirled around her, the same voice that had steadied her years ago when she wriggled through that tiny gap to rescue little Sophie. You’ll need to take a step into thin air before I can reach your other wrist … Do you trust me? He was her safe place, then and now. Always.
‘You want to know what happened to make me run off? Well, I’ll tell you. Mr Nugent did. My mother was so proud that I was going to be his sewing girl, but actually he wanted me as his bit on the side.’
‘His what?’
‘His trollop, his slut. He had a taste for girls about that age.’
‘But that’s … I can’t—’
‘Can’t believe it? Like you could never bring yourself to believe that I had really had a child? Lucky you. Unfortunately, I don’t have that luxury.’
‘Was Mr Nugent the father?’
‘No. He never … he never went the whole way.’
‘Then what did he do? How can you be sure of his … intentions?’
‘How d’you think? Because he’d already made a start. Why do you imagine my mother received special treatment in her final days? Because I paid for it by submitting to his touching and his stroking and … licking.’ A dark sigh shuddered out of her. Sourness invaded her mouth. ‘On the day I ran away, he was going to rape me. That’s why I disappeared. In any case, I was going
to run away before I had to move into Arley House, but because he went for me, I had to leave immediately. He made me miss my mother’s funeral. There! You were so shocked that day at the folly, because I skipped the funeral. Well, now you know. It was the last thing I could do for my mother, and he robbed me of it.’
A cluster of golden cowslips caught her eye, and over there, near a shallow pond, was a pale-pink haze of delicate lady’s smock. It was easier to concentrate on those than to realise she had finally shared her horrible secret. What must Hal think of her now?
‘When did this start?’ His voice was raw. ‘Was it … after I left for London?’
She hung her head. Then she lifted it, and looked straight at him. ‘Before that.’
His jaw slackened, but he didn’t look away. ‘Why did you never say anything?’
‘I was too ashamed, too frightened.’
Removing his cap, he pushed fingers through his hair in a gesture that made her yearn for the young couple they had once been.
‘I had no idea …’
‘No one did. He was clever. Everyone admired his generosity towards my mother. I felt … isolated.’ She gave her feet a tiny wriggle, making sure they were planted firmly on the ground. ‘And … I wasn’t the only one. He was doing the same to Lily McKenzie, Lady Darley’s oldest daughter.’
‘His own stepdaughter? Are you sure?’
‘Positive. I confronted him, and he admitted as much.’
‘The poor girl. And she’s so young.’
‘She’s about the same age I was.’
He made a move towards her, but she danced away, eyes smarting with tears.
‘You haven’t asked about my daughter’s father.’
‘Can you face talking about it, after what you’ve just told me?’
That nearly undid her. Such consideration was more than she deserved. No. She mustn’t think like that. She wasn’t at fault; she had never been at fault. She filled her lungs with the pure air of the meadows. It wasn’t the same as the air on the moors. It was kinder, less brisk. Hal was her safe place.
‘Do you remember Rosie?’
He blew out a breath. ‘I remember being summoned into Mr Nugent’s presence to be accused of being the father of her baby.’
She experienced a strange sensation, as if her insides were dropping. Quietly, she related what had happened: how she had assumed a stranger was Hal and how Rosie had later taken her terrible revenge, how she had gone to Mrs Maddox’s and later recognised the lady who was now Lady Darley.
‘You poor love. I wish I could have helped you through it. You know I’d have done that, don’t you?’
‘I’ve managed. I’ve had to.’
‘And you’ve built a successful business.’
She smiled. ‘Years ago, you said I should, while you were busy climbing your own ladder.’
‘I did, didn’t I?’
‘So, what now?’ She was ready to ask. The shadows of the past had thinned. They were still there; they would always be there, but perhaps they wouldn’t clog her heart any more. What next? She was ready to …
‘What now?’ he said. ‘I think you need to talk to Lily McKenzie.’
‘What?’
‘You said Mr Nugent made you feel isolated. You bore your burden alone. Don’t you think it would help Lily to know she’s not the only one?’
She opened her mouth to say – she didn’t know what she was going to say. She braced herself for the sinking feeling of defeat, or to feel conflicted, at the very least. Instead she felt alert and determined, filled with a powerful sense of resolve. Talking to Lily was the right thing to do.
‘And afterwards,’ she said, ‘we’ll talk about the future.’
Juliet left it a few days. She could hardly do something like this immediately after Sir Henry’s funeral. Emotions would be too raw. But she mustn’t leave it too long. Lily deserved to be supported. Besides, with Darley Court now in the hands of Miss Brown, and with her ladyship and her daughters possibly not remaining, who knew what might be happening in the household? She presented herself at the kitchen door and asked for Miss Banks.
After a while, her ladyship’s maid appeared. ‘Good morning, Miss Harper. What can I do for you?’
‘Please could I see Miss Lily? I need to check some measurements.’
‘It isn’t like you to have to come back and check. But Miss Lily happens to be in her room at the moment, so you’d best come this way.’
Miss Banks led her up the backstairs, emerging onto the landing where Lily’s room was. Miss Banks knocked and opened the door.
‘Excuse me, Miss Lily, but Miss Harper wishes to have a minute of your time to check the measurements she took.’
Juliet inserted herself into the room before Lily could say yes or no. ‘Thank you,’ she said to Miss Banks. ‘I’ll find my own way down the backstairs.’
The lady’s maid went on her way, and Juliet shut the door. Lily looked pale and thin; her black dress did her colouring no favours. Did her young heart rebel against wearing mourning for the man who had molested her?
Lily stood still, her arms slightly away from her slender frame. ‘Measure away, Miss Harper.’
And she almost did. Rather than saying what she had come here to say, she almost postponed it for a few minutes. She felt light-headed, but she maintained eye contact as she walked across the pretty bedroom and stood before the unsuspecting girl.
‘Lily,’ she said, and saw the girl’s eyes widen at being called by just her name. ‘It’s hard for me to say this, but I know what Sir Henry did to you.’
Lily’s hand flew to her mouth as a strangled gasp struggled to be heard. Then she swung away. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Yes, you do, sweetheart. I know because he told me, and he told me because … he did the same to me when I was about your age.’
Lily fixed her gaze on Juliet’s face.
‘He gave you a candle, didn’t he? He gave me one too, but mine was a rose candle. No wonder you ended up hating lavender.’ Her heart beat heavy and slow. ‘He used to come to me at night. He touched me and—’
‘No!’ shrieked Lily. ‘Leave me alone.’
Juliet grasped her arms and wouldn’t let go when she wriggled. ‘It wasn’t your fault, Lily. You wanted to protect your sisters. With me, it was protecting my sick mother. He made me feel dirty and wretched. Is that how you felt? Please, even if you can’t bear to talk about it, just listen to me, so that you know you’re not alone. He made me feel I was the only person in the world he had ever or would ever do it to, and that was part of his power. It wasn’t just the two of us, either. I know for certain of one more girl, and who knows whether there were others?’
Lily sagged, and Juliet caught her as she started to sob. Odd words and jumbled sentences mingled with moans of distress as she started to unburden her soul. Taking her to the window seat, Juliet held her close, murmuring comfort and understanding. At last Lily quietened.
She gently shifted Lily so that she sat up straight. ‘There’s one more thing. You have to tell your mother.’
‘No.’ Lily’s eyes were huge.
‘I’ll come with you. We’ll do it together. But she has to know. You can’t carry this secret for the rest of your life. Believe me, I know. I kept my secret for years, and every so often it has risen up and devoured me. If you tell your mother, she’ll be horrified, but she’ll know it was his fault. I’ll tell her for you, if you like, but she has to be told.’
The door opened, and Lady Darley looked in. ‘Miss Harper, I didn’t know you were here. Lily! What’s the matter? You’ve been crying.’ In an instant, she was at her daughter’s side.
‘You may well never want to see me again after this, Your Ladyship,’ said Juliet, ‘but Lily and I have something to tell you about Sir Henry.’
Juliet stood outside an empty shop on Wilbraham Road with Clara. Her aunt, in spite of her obvious curiosity, was stiff-backed and unyielding, but that didn’t stop Juliet
bubbling with high spirits.
‘Look at the situation: a smart antiques shop next door and just across the road from the Lloyd’s Hotel, which has a cabbies’ shelter outside, so there’s usually a cab or two about – very handy for my more well-off customers. I shan’t visit ladies at home any more – well, apart from Lady Darley.’ It would be easy to single her out as a special case because of her title, and no one would ever guess the real reason – assuming, of course, that Lady Darley still wished to know her. ‘Come inside.’ She produced the key – her very own key, to her very own shop – and they went in. ‘This is where the customers will be waited on. I’ll have gowns, fabrics and accessories on display. Through here are various rooms. The building goes back further than you might expect, and there’s upstairs as well.’ She opened doors. ‘Workroom … office … a retiring room for the staff.’
‘You’re having staff, are you?’
Juliet stilled. Clara’s mouth thinned, then it twisted as she huffed a sigh.
‘I was about to say something mealy-mouthed. I had the words ready in my head. But I’m not going to say them because … that isn’t how I feel. No one was ever proud of me, and I know how much I longed for it. I don’t flatter myself that it means anything to you, but I look at what you’ve achieved and I feel … proud.’
‘Oh, Auntie Clara.’
‘Like I say, there’s no reason for you to care.’
‘There is. We’re family. You’re my only family. I don’t count Grandmother, any more than I imagine she counts me. I didn’t bring you here to show off. I brought you because … Auntie Clara, I hope you’ll want to work here with me.’
Clara flushed and looked away. ‘I don’t know what game you’re playing.’
‘I’m serious. I know how hard things have been for you. Grandmother has bullied you for years.’
Clara gripped her elbows. ‘I was never good enough. I never got my own salon, and that was all she cared about.’
‘So what? You worked for Mademoiselle Antoinette and she employs only the best. It would give my dressmaking business a huge boost if I could say that you worked here.’ She waited until Clara met her eyes. ‘This isn’t going to be a fancy salon. But I have more customers than I can cope with and I’m taking on staff, including an apprentice. I’ll do the designing, and you’ll be senior seamstress, in charge of the other women.’
The Sewing Room Girl Page 35
