Degrees of Hope

by Catherine Winchester

  “But it isn't just one school, is it? There are new Ragged Schools springing up all over the country. Things are changing.”

  “But not quickly enough.”

  “Mother! I am quite ashamed of you and this attitude. I'm not saying that it will be easy or fast, but we can do something, I promise you!”

  “Don't talk to your mother in that tone!” Lucien reprimanded as he came in, although he sounded weary.

  “No, darling, she is right. For once.” Martha smirked at Hope who, whilst pleased that her mother seemed to be shrugging off her malaise, did her best to glare in reply. “How did it go?” Martha asked, turning towards the door.

  “He is appeased for now but I don't think that it will last.” He shrugged his dressing gown off, then pulled a third armchair closer to the fire that his girls were grouped around. Martha handed him a cup of tea. “Don't you have anything stronger?” he asked, although his tone was teasing and slightly weary.

  “Are you certain that there is no way to trace Honoria?” Martha asked quietly.

  “As sure as I can be; they have passed through two major cities so should be hard to follow, although I confess, I will feel a lot more comfortable once the ship has sailed in the morning.”

  “Me too,” Hope said.

  “I want you to be very careful for the next few weeks,” Lucien told Hope. “I know that you don't like restrictions being placed upon you, but please don't go anywhere alone for a while.”

  “What about riding?”

  “Take the stable lad with you.”

  “But Malcolm wouldn't dare hurt me.”

  “I'm not sure what he would or wouldn't do right now so please, just be cautious for a few days.”

  “All right, Papa.”

  “And now we should try and get some sleep,” Martha said. “We must look for Honoria again in the morning.”

  The hunt for Honoria and Mary continued for another two days but after that time, the police called off the search. Hope and Martha had remained at Marchwood Hall each day as they were unwilling to be in Malcolm's presence.

  To their great surprise, many town folk and local farmers began coming forward with stories of thefts, vandalism and women who had felt uncomfortable or been molested in the streets. Of course, this was just a coincidence; Martha was in little doubt that the crime rate hadn't actually soared in the past week, but the missing women had focused everyone's thoughts on crime and people were talking of events that they might otherwise have shrugged off more easily. The stories did help confirm suspicions that the women had been abducted though, and itinerant workers got the blame.

  On the fourth day, the day after the search was called off, Constable Pierce came to see Lucien at the workshop in Marchwood and was shown to his office by Lucien's clerk.

  “Sorry to disturb you,” Pierce said as he shook Lucien's hand.

  “Not at all. Is there any news?”

  “Nothing yet.” He wrung his hands together, as though nervous. “The thing is, Mr Arundell has stated that he believes that your daughter helped Mrs Arundell to stage an escape of some sort, and that his wife is being hidden by you.”

  Lucien nodded. “I suspected he might go to you. He came to our house in the early hours, the morning after she went missing. Woke up my family, my staff and insisted on searching the Hall and outhouses.”

  “Did you let him?”

  “I wasn't inclined to but my wife convinced me. I was angry with him but we have nothing to hide. You are welcome to look for yourself.”

  “That's very kind of you, sir.”

  “It's nothing. You are also welcome to speak with the staff. As I'm sure you know, nothing goes on in these big houses that escapes the staffs' notice.”

  “Thank you, Lord Beaumont. I understand that your wife and daughter were friends with Mrs Arundell?”

  “Yes, they were. In all honesty, I didn't want to sell that land to Malcolm but my wife and daughter had taken a shine to his wife, so I agreed. I am beginning to think that I might have saved everyone a lot of heartache if I had refused.”

  “You can't blame yourself, none of us can see the future.”

  “No.” Lucien sighed.

  “I am sorry, Constable, but the time I took off work to help search for Mrs Arundell has caused a backlog and I must get on.”

  “Would it be all right if I visited your house in your absence?”

  “Of course; my wife is home and will be happy to show you around.”

  “Would you object if I asked your wife and daughter a few questions whilst I'm there, or would you prefer to be present?”

  “Not at all only, this situation has them both rather upset since my wife's sister is also missing, so please try not to cause them too much distress.”

  “Of course. Thank you, Lord Beaumont.” The constable left and Lucien got back to work. Thankfully, Lucien knew that his wife could handle the constable and he had no need to worry.

  Martha and Hope happily showed the constable around the house and its outbuildings and when they were finished, he wanted to know if he might ask a few questions about Honoria and Malcolm. Martha and Hope guided him to the study and offered him refreshments, although he refused. Martha had decided to answer his questions honestly, as long as it would not give their plan away.

  “Was Mrs Arundell upset of late?” the Constable Pierce asked. He took out a pencil and a small notebook, where he jotted down some notes as they spoke.

  “Of course she was, she had just lost her child. The last time Hope and I saw her, she was a shell of a woman.”

  “Her child?” he sounded surprised. “I wasn't aware that she had a baby.”

  “She didn't,” Martha explained. “But they were expecting a happy event. I'm sorry to have to be the one to inform you, but Mr Arundell was known to beat his wife. It was one of these beatings that caused her to lose her child and as a god-fearing woman, she did not take that very well.”

  “Is there anyone who can back up your claims?” the constable asked.

  “His staff,” Hope jumped in. “He's terrified them into silence but if you guaranteed to keep their confidence, I'm sure that they will tell you the truth.”

  Constable Pierce nodded thoughtfully. “Do you know how often Mr Arundell would chastise her?”

  Martha felt like slapping him. Beating someone was not a simple chastisement.

  “I know that when her brother arrived, she had to pretend to be sick so that he wouldn't see her bruises. The attack that caused her to miscarry happened just after the brother left, about two weeks later. Malcolm doesn't like sharing his wife with anyone, not even her brother.”

  “Did she see a doctor?”

  “Never when she was marked but her staff were worried about her, so once her bruises had faded, Mrs Kenner called Dr McCoy in to see her.”

  “And what was she like when you saw her?”

  “She was suffering,” Martha said. She couldn't help the sadness that entered her voice as she remembered Honoria on that day. “She was remote and detached, she hardly even seemed to notice what was going on around her. The housekeeper told us that Dr McCoy had diagnosed melancholia but said that it should pass; she just needed time to grieve.”

  “I hate to ask this, Lady Beaumont, but is there any chance that Mrs Arundell... well, that's she might have done something... silly.”

  “She was a very devout woman, so I think it unlikely.”

  “And do you believe that there is any possibility that she has run away,” Pierce asked.

  “I would like to believe that but I don't honestly think that Honoria is brave enough to try something like that.”

  “And what of your sister, Mary Dawley?”

  “What about her?”

  “What kind of woman was she?”

  “She was brave, but also devoted to our mother and her school.”

  “How is your mother taking the news?”

  “Poorly. She keeps to her room and takes all her meals there,
but I'm sure she would speak to you if you would like.”

  “I'm sure that will not be necessary.” He wrote something in his notebook then looked up again. “Mr Arundell is certain that his wife took nothing when she left; was anything missing from your sister’s home?”

  “We didn't check but nothing that we could see.”

  “I understand that Lord Beaumont has offered a sizeable reward for information leading to her discovery?”

  “Yes, for both Mary and Honoria.” The reason for that had actually been to overwhelm the police with misleading information, since every man and his dog had a pet theory, or claimed to have seen Mary and Honoria in a variety of places, from Marchwood, to Edinburgh, to near her family's estate in Norfolk. New people were coming forward daily, each hoping to claim the reward as theirs.

  “Can I ask, what do you believe has happened to them?” Constable Pierce asked.

  “I'm afraid that given the impeccable character of both women, I think it likely that they have met with misfortune.” She turned away and bowed her head. Hope came forward to comfort her.

  “I'm sorry if I have upset you, Lady Beaumont.”

  “No, your questions are justified, Constable.”

  “Still, I apologise. I'll take my leave now.”

  Martha nodded, although she kept her head averted and dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief.

  Wary of Lord Beaumont's earlier warning about upsetting his wife, the constable left then. He had never really considered the Beaumonts as suspects, for not only was Lord Beaumont a Magistrate of this town, he and his wife had done a lot to help improve the town, both by attracting business and by improving conditions in the slums, that so many had been forced to live in. Marchwood was far from perfect but it was a damn site better than many other towns and cities, from what Pierce heard.

  Now though, he was beginning to think that perhaps Mr Arundell might have had something to do with his wife's disappearance. He had nothing against a husband keeping discipline in his home, but it appeared that what Mr Arundell did went above and beyond that. If indeed he had gone too far, he surely wouldn't leave the body lying around. And perhaps whilst disposing of the corpse, he had happened upon Mary, who he had then had to silence.

  Of course, Mrs Arundell went missing in the middle of the day, on her walk, so perhaps it hadn't been an accident. Perhaps Mr Arundell had lain in wait for her. Perhaps their fight or struggle had caused her lace cuff to be torn from her dress.

  Of course, Mr Arundell was supposed to be in London at the time, but Constable Pierce intended to check on that. Alibis were easily faked if you could pay someone enough to lie for you.

  First though, he needed to verify what he had been told, so he mounted his horse and rode over to Arundell Hall, intending to speak with some of the staff. After assuring them that what they told him would be dealt with in the strictest confidence and that their master would never find out, they confirmed Lady Beaumont's story, with even more gruesome details since many had actually witnessed these events and their aftermath.

  He left Arundell Hall with a new picture of Mr Arundell, that of a cruel, tyrannical and sadistic monster. Suspecting the Beaumonts never entered his mind again.

  After Constable Pierce left, Martha went to check on her mother, who was sitting on the window seat in her bedroom, looking down at the gardens below. Martha almost felt it was cruel to keep her here, since the elegance and luxury of her home made her mother feel uncomfortable, but to send her back to her cottage, alone, would have been even more cruel.

  “Ma?” she said as she came up and sat next to her.

  Lizzy smiled slightly at her daughter and reached out to take her hand.

  Most would think Lizzy a weak woman, someone who bent to every breeze, but there was a certain kind of strength even in that behaviour. Lizzy was used to pain and loss, not only living under a tyrant like her husband for so many years, but she had also lost more than her fair share of children to disease and malnutrition.

  It wasn't the kind of strength that shouted and demanded to be heard, that demanded respect but somehow she was still standing, and that in itself was quite an achievement.

  “How are you?”

  “Bearing up,” Lizzy said. “Our Maggie came by earlier. She asked if I wanted to go and stay with them for a few days.”

  “Do you?” Martha asked, although in her heart she already knew the answer. Not only was she intimidated here, she had nothing to occupy her. Maggie's home, with her husband and four children, would provide distractions that would keep Lizzy's mind off the awful events of late.

  Martha hated that she and her mother had grown so far apart but there was nothing that she could do to change things. Martha couldn't go back to the poor, working class scullery maid that she had once been, any more than Lizzy could grow the confidence to be happy in her daughter's lavish home.

  Maggie and her husband rented one of the farms from Lucien. The farmhouse had four bedrooms, more than enough room to comfortably keep three adults and four children. The house that Martha had grown up in had only two rooms, a kitchen and a bedroom, and at times as many as ten had all shared that one bedroom. Maggie's house was a castle by comparison.

  “It's all right, I understand.” She pulled her mother into an embrace and felt tears sting her eyes. She truly believed that keeping Mary's fate from Lizzy was the right thing to do but at the same time, seeing the pain that she was causing was almost unbearable.

  Both women were crying when they pulled apart and dabbed at their eyes.

  “If you do want to go back to your home, I thought that I would try and find a companion for you,” Martha explained. “Someone who can do the heavier tasks, like getting the wood in, and who could be company for you. Just until Mary returns.”

  “We'll see,” her mother said. “What's happenin' with the school?”

  “Hope and I have volunteered to teach two days between us, and the others governors will be taking the remaining three days a week.”

  “And what if...” her mother’s eyes were downcast and she was unable to finish that sentence.

  “I don't want to think about a replacement yet.”

  Lizzy nodded, although she had little hope that Mary was still alive. Her life had taught her some harsh lessons and one of those, was that hopes were dashed far more often than they were fulfilled.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Martha and Hope did their best to keep busy, so that they didn't have too much time to worry about what had happened to Honoria and Mary. Hopefully they had sailed without incident but they wouldn't dock in New York for another two weeks, and it would take a further three weeks for a letter to be sent back. The wait was interminable, but keeping busy helped.

  Five days after the disappearance, news spread to the Beaumont household that James Ashdown was back, having been summoned by Malcolm Arundell. Lucien broke the news to his family over dinner.

  “Oh, he must be so worried,” Martha said.

  “Worried about his family's reputation,” Hope scoffed.

  Martha ignored the remark, instead asking her husband, “Have you seen him?”

  “No. He was seen leaving the railway station this afternoon, and you know how word spreads in this town, especially given the recent dramas.”

  “Gossip is the staple of the British Empire,” Martha observed dryly, although so far the gossip and rumours had only served to muddy the waters, which actually helped obscure the true fate of Mary and Honoria.

  “Speaking of,” Hope interjected, hoping to swing the topic away from James. “Did you hear that Mrs Cooper is getting remarried?”

  “Really?” asked Lucien. The news was surprising, because Mrs Cooper had been a widow for twenty years and no one expected her to take a new husband at her age.

  “Yes, we received her letter this morning, asking us to design the gloves for her wedding gown. Apparently she is marrying a gentleman called Klein. He's a diplomat from Australia.”

 
“Austria,” Martha corrected. “And he is a British diplomat who was stationed in Austria.”

  Hope shrugged. She really had no interest in gossip, nor who was marrying whom, but anything was better than discussing James Ashdown.

  Lucien was interested in the news, but only insofar as how the wedding of a high society lady could help the business.

  “Is much known about this Klein?” he asked his wife.

  “I have not heard much about him but in her letter, Mrs Cooper said that he is from a good family and has been in the diplomatic service for twenty years. He has tired of living abroad though and wants to settle in London. She said that is a widower; his wife died two years ago.”

  The conversation continued in such a fashion, talking mostly of inconsequential things as Hope did her best to stop the conversation returning to James. Hope thought that as Honoria's older, although obviously not wiser, brother he should have protected her, stopped the marriage from going ahead, and when it was clear that she was in trouble, ridden in to rescue her. It galled her that James professed such love for Honoria, yet had left her to her fate, to wither, rot and die under Malcolm's oppressive presence.

  The reason that she really didn't want to see him though, was because he inspired such anger within her, that she was in danger of revealing more than was prudent in her desire to wipe the smug smile off his face.

  In the event, James was not at all smug when he turned up the following afternoon, seeking an audience with Martha and Hope. In fact Hope might even have gone so far as to say that he looked rough.

  “I'm sorry for intruding,” he said as the butler showed him in. “Please, forgive me.”

  “Nonsense.” Martha was ever the composed hostess. “Please, sit. Can I offer you some tea?”

  “Thank you but no. I am here to ask you about my sister.”

  “So he sent you to do his dirty work, did he?” Hope asked. “Did he tell you that he thinks we're hiding her? That not only did he wake the whole household up at four in the morning and insisted on searching every room, he then sent a police constable to do the same. I suppose you'd like a look around too? Well feel free. As we keep telling people, we have nothing to hide.”