A Thimbleful of Hope

by Evie Grace

  ‘Why should women have only the prospect of becoming servants to their husbands to look forward to?’ Miss Whiteway dared to say.

  ‘It isn’t your place to raise this with me as the mistress of this house. Why would I wish to be considered Mr Rayfield’s equal when I am content to stay quietly as his inferior, in return for his protection and good sense?’

  ‘There’s no reason why men and women shouldn’t be treated equally. Why shouldn’t women be vicars and prime ministers?’

  Violet heard Ma’s strangulated snort of annoyance.

  ‘A woman’s place is in the home – why would she want to spend hours writing sermons and giving speeches even if that were allowed? How insufferably dull!’

  ‘I believe they would be just as interesting and inspiring as any written by a man.’ Violet thought she heard Miss Whiteway continue in a low voice, ‘More so, in fact.’

  ‘You have the most peculiar ideas. The very fabric of civilised society would fall apart.’ For a moment, Violet expected her mother to send Miss Whiteway to her room, but she backed down.

  ‘I believe Miss Whiteway is playing devil’s advocate, all the better to entertain us,’ Mr Brooke said, laughing loudly – too loudly to be considered polite, Violet judged, noticing the expression of disapproval on her aunt’s face.

  ‘That’s right.’ Pa guffawed while Uncle Edward looked on, frowning.

  ‘Let’s have another song,’ Mr Brooke suggested.

  ‘An excellent idea,’ Uncle Edward said, and Violet played the piano while Ottilie sang a duet with Eleanor. Letting her fingers run across the keys, the tune so familiar that she didn’t have to think about it, she gazed up at the sooty streaks above the gasoliers in the drawing room, wondering if Mama would extend her renovations of the house any further, and then about Miss Whiteway’s bravery – or was it foolishness? – in speaking her own mind in front of her employers’ guests. As for Mr Brooke, it was kind of him to make light of it – like a decorator, he was skilled in papering over the cracks, his quips and comments smoothing out disagreements and contention.

  She played the last chord and let it hang in the air, but before the audience could offer their applause, the sound of a disturbance downstairs stopped them.

  ‘Oh, who is that at this late hour?’ Ma sighed.

  ‘It’s probably some higgler,’ Pa said. ‘Don’t worry. Wilson will deal with it.’

  ‘Sit down, Violet,’ Ma said, but it was too late – she had abandoned the piano, mid-chord, the notes dying away as Wilson’s voice rose to a shout. Footsteps came hammering up the stairs towards the drawing room. The door burst open and a young man strode in, his clothes dripping wet from the rain. Violet recognised him immediately.

  ‘Young man! Wilson!’ Pa’s glass hovered in the air. His hand trembled and a few drops of brandy spilled on to the carpet. ‘What is the meaning of this? Oh, it is you, Mr Noble. You have no right to come barging into my house. Wilson, why did you let him in?’

  ‘My apologies, Mr Rayfield,’ Wilson said curtly. ‘Mr Noble here took me by surprise and forced his way past me.’

  ‘William, this – whatever it is – can wait,’ Pa said. ‘Call at my office in the morning and one of my clerks will make you an appointment.’

  ‘You can’t keep fobbing me off,’ William said. ‘You’ve been dodging me for days, which isn’t right or fair. Mr Chittenden, you too have unkindly refused to meet me.’

  ‘Oh dear, what an uncouth creature to have walked off the streets, all bedraggled,’ Violet heard her aunt say to her mother. ‘What on earth can he have to say to Mr Rayfield?’

  He was only bedraggled because he’d been standing out in the rain, Violet thought. Their eyes locked briefly – for just long enough for her to convey her sympathy without words. His face was etched with pain and anger, and her heart went out to him.

  ‘I wouldn’t normally disturb you at this hour, but your clerks have turned me away every time I’ve come to find you at your office. All I want from you is an assurance that you are doing all you can to find the Dover Belle. My mother is desperate for news.’

  ‘Return to your mother and give her my personal assurance that all is well,’ Pa said sternly.

  ‘How can I take your word for it?’

  ‘Because I am a gentleman of high standing.’

  ‘You have made enquiries as to the ship’s position?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Pa shrugged.

  ‘I’ve heard rumours that she wasn’t seaworthy,’ William said.

  ‘She was overhauled not long ago,’ Mr Chittenden exclaimed.

  ‘My brother told me that parts of her engine were worn out.’

  ‘What does he know as a junior engineer?’ Pa said scathingly. Violet had no doubt that he knew what he was talking about – he and Uncle Edward had carried out months of research into her fitness for purpose before buying her. ‘Within a few days, the Dover Belle will be back, along with her crew and precious cargo, and life will go on as usual. You worry unnecessarily.’ Pa’s expression softened. ‘Wilson, take him down to the kitchen and ask Cook to give him some meat and claret.’

  ‘I will not accept your charity – I have my pride,’ William said. ‘I came here for answers – you can’t buy me peace of mind with leftovers.’

  ‘You’ll feel a little better when you have some food inside you.’

  ‘I have to get back to my mother. For now, I’m all the comfort she has. I won’t be letting this matter rest. I’ll call at your office every day, if I have to. Good evening, Mr Rayfield and Mr Chittenden. Goodnight, ladies.’

  He looked at Violet who bowed her head, a little embarrassed as their uninvited caller left the house. The two men seemed equally convinced that they were in the right: Pa that the Dover Belle was seaworthy and merely delayed coming back to port; William that the ship hadn’t been properly maintained by her owners and was likely to have broken down, or worse. She hated the idea that William might think badly of her because he disagreed with her father. ‘I think it’s time that Jane and I retired to bed. We’ve had a long day,’ Aunt Felicity said.

  ‘I apologise for the unwarranted intrusion,’ Pa said. ‘It’s been an eventful evening.’

  ‘And one to remember,’ Mr Brooke added. ‘I’m very grateful for your hospitality, Mrs Rayfield, but I too must take my leave.’

  When the guests had gone, Violet went upstairs with her sisters.

  ‘What do you think Miss Whiteway was doing, the way she spoke to Mama?’ Ottilie said as she changed into her nightgown.

  Violet was already in bed, waiting to snuff out the candle on the bedside cabinet.

  ‘I admire her for speaking her mind.’

  ‘But why did she do it in front of our guests?’

  ‘Because she finds evenings like these tiresome. She prefers to stay in her room, reading and preparing lessons. What about William bursting in on the party like that?’

  ‘I thought he was unmannerly. I expect you admire him as well,’ Ottilie said.

  ‘No …’ Violet said, her cheeks burning.

  ‘I think you do – for his determination to find out what’s happened to the Dover Belle on behalf of his mother, but that isn’t the only reason …’

  ‘Ottilie, please. I’m tired.’

  ‘You are trying to divert me because you know there’s some truth in what I’m saying, that you think he’s rather handsome.’

  ‘The way you think of John, you mean?’ Violet said. ‘I have no particular feelings for William. I agree that he has a pleasant countenance and he’s a competent dancer, but I have no intention of falling in love with him, or anyone else.’

  Ottilie chuckled. ‘You protest too much.’

  ‘Ottilie!’ Violet suppressed the urge to throw her pillow at her sister, remembering how Mama had cancelled all their outings for a whole month after their last fight when the room had ended up as a sea of goose feathers.

 
; Violet snuffed out the candle, laid her head back on her pillow and gazed towards the ceiling. She couldn’t stop thinking about William. Some might consider him to be just a lowly apprentice, but he wasn’t afraid to speak up for himself in the presence of the likes of Pa and Uncle Edward. She wished she could help him in some way, but all she could do was pray for the Dover Belle to come home.

  Chapter Four

  The Dover Belle

  It was a shame that Aunt Felicity and Jane had been obliged to return to Canterbury early the following morning because they’d often enjoyed their cousin’s company when they were younger. Regretting Jane’s absence, Violet gazed along the breakfast table: Pa was reading his paper, Ottilie was staring out of the long windows towards the sea with a wistful expression on her face, Mama was sipping at her tea, and Eleanor was picking at some scrambled egg.

  ‘Sidney, we need to discuss the problem of Miss Whiteway,’ Mama began. ‘I feel that she deliberately showed me up as a bad mother last night. She should go, I think. Her views are troubling and don’t fit in with the general consensus in the drawing room.’

  ‘Conversation would be most dull without conflict and disagreement, but you’re right, last night was too much. Her opinions don’t reflect ours, and she’s poisoning our daughters’ minds.’

  ‘She’s the best governess we’ve ever had,’ Violet interrupted. ‘She encourages us to think for ourselves and form an opinion about freedoms for women.’

  ‘Freedoms?’ Pa looked up. ‘What freedoms?’

  ‘Opportunities to attend university, to work in the professions, to maintain ownership of one’s property upon marriage …’ Violet trailed off, aware that her father was staring at her.

  ‘You don’t believe any of this claptrap, do you? Society has always been like this. Why upset the applecart when we are different? A woman can’t possibly match the intellectual capacity of a man.’

  ‘Especially when she’s so worn down with raising children and managing a household that she has no time to improve her mind,’ Mama interrupted.

  Surprised, Violet straightened her spine. She had never heard their mother express any political or controversial opinion. She had always bowed to Pa before.

  ‘Is it right that when a man takes a wife, he also takes her fortune to do whatever he likes with it?’ Mama continued. ‘Mr Rayfield, is it fair that when I wish to make some improvements to the house, I have to beg you to agree to pay for them, when I inherited the equivalent of several thousand pounds in gold that sits languishing in a bank vault in London?’

  Pa chuckled. ‘It is precisely to preserve a wife’s assets that a husband takes them on. If I’d let you have free rein with the finances, you would have spent every penny on paint and wallpapers, feathers and fripperies.’

  ‘You should give me more credit,’ Mama said quietly. ‘I am not a fool. None of us are,’ she added, looking at her daughters.

  ‘I am outnumbered,’ Pa said, growing sombre. ‘I’m sorry. I have overstepped the mark in my teasing. It’s a serious matter of which you speak. I really don’t think it’s right to give girls too rigorous an education – it makes them unmarriageable. Not only that, there was talk in the club not very long ago about a physician’s theory that study causes the ovaries of the female to shrivel, causing her to become barren.’

  ‘Do you believe that?’ Mama said.

  ‘I have no reason to doubt a medical man’s opinion.’

  ‘You said it was a theory, not a proven fact,’ Violet said, shocked by her father’s frankness, but Pa wasn’t listening.

  ‘Eleanor is fifteen years old and we have done our duty as far as her education goes. Dispensing with Miss Whiteway will go some way to saving on the general running costs of our household, which have become rather profligate recently.’

  ‘You heard what everybody said last night: that it made the dining room look fit for the Queen herself.’

  ‘I’m glad it pleased you,’ Pa said fondly. ‘Perhaps we should consider letting Wilson go at the same time – he is a mouse, not a man, for letting Mr Noble into the drawing room last night.’

  ‘He said that William took him by surprise,’ Mama said.

  ‘I know. No, I wouldn’t replace Wilson for that – he’s been a loyal servant. I never had William down as the impetuous sort. His father is a man of quiet authority and competence.’ Pa sighed and turned the page of his newspaper, the remains of his devilled kidneys cold and congealing on his plate. ‘I’ve heard that the superintendent of the Packet Yard thinks so highly of him that he’s attached him to the drawings office, but let’s not talk about this any more.’

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t read at the table,’ Mama said.

  ‘One has to keep abreast of the news.’

  ‘Why on earth would one want to mix murder, theft and adultery with meal times?’ Mama countered. ‘It leaves a rather unpleasant taste in the mouth, does it not? Have you no feeling for the poor people who have been wronged?’

  ‘I read and think, there for the grace of God.’ Pa smiled. ‘Like the devilled kidneys, I take these reports with a pinch of salt. They are written by journalists who are paid for their stories: the more sensational the better.’

  ‘Then what is the point of reading them, if they aren’t true?’

  ‘Because they always contain an element of truth. Going back to our original topic of conversation, I believe you are not above a little subversion of the roles of the sexes yourself, Patience. You would argue with me like Violet does!’

  Violet wondered if he was going to be cross, but he smiled again, and went on, ‘I’m happy for the distraction. I have a lot on my mind with meetings and such, and to that end—’ he checked his pocket watch—‘I must hurry to the office.’

  While he was folding the newspaper, Wilson showed Uncle Edward into the dining room.

  ‘Oh, what is he doing here at this time of the morning?’ Mama sighed.

  ‘You have news?’ Pa said, turning pale as Uncle Edward, still wearing his hat, coat and gloves, made his way to the table.

  ‘There’s no gentle way of saying this – the Dover Belle has been taken down into Davy Jones’s locker for certain. Everything is lost – the crew, passengers, cargo and the ship herself, sunk in deep water with just a few bits of wreckage to show where she went down. There’s no hope of rescue or salvage.’

  Mama uttered a small cry then pressed her fingers to her lips. ‘Those poor souls and their families …’

  ‘They have all drowned,’ Violet heard Eleanor whisper from beside her.

  ‘This is dreadful news,’ Ottilie murmured.

  ‘Edward, you should have given me this information in private,’ Pa said angrily. ‘You’ve upset my wife and daughters.’

  ‘I make no apology – they are going to find out soon enough.’

  ‘There was no need for it!’

  ‘The news is all over town – there’s talk of it on the streets, in the bootmakers and the mills – and it will be in tomorrow’s papers.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Pa said eventually. ‘We’ll retire to my study to discuss what is to be done.’

  Holding back her tears as the men left the room, Violet thought of William and his mother. How were they feeling, knowing that their nearest and dearest would not be returning home?

  ‘Mama, would you like us to keep you company this morning?’ she asked, but their mother declined.

  ‘I have plenty to do to keep me occupied, thank you. Mrs Green is calling at eleven. Oh, those poor people – I shall have nightmares. Go, Ottilie. And you, Violet and Eleanor. I will see you later in the day. And please don’t say anything to Miss Whiteway – I have yet to make my decision.’

  Violet leapt to her feet and hurried out of the dining room with her sisters following behind her.

  ‘Why are you in such a rush?’ Eleanor called after her.

  ‘You’ll see,’ she called back.

  The maid was walking towards them along the corridor with a tray l
aden with a coffee pot, sugar, cups and saucers.

  ‘May, let me take that,’ Violet said, quickly intercepting her.

  ‘It’s for the master.’ May frowned as she handed it over.

  ‘Thank you.’ Violet turned and hastened along to the study where she hesitated outside the half-open door.

  ‘I have immediate concerns for the captain’s wife – now his father and brother have gone, William is wholly responsible for supporting his mother on an apprentice’s wage,’ Uncle Edward was saying. ‘We should arrange to make an ex gratia payment to the Nobles in advance of settling the matter of compensation, so they don’t suffer further hardship.’

  ‘I was about to suggest the very same,’ Pa said.

  ‘At least the Dover Belle was insured – the financial losses can be retrieved to a certain extent.’

  ‘I’m not entirely sure that she was …’ Pa muttered.

  ‘Not insured? On what account?’

  ‘I believe there was an omission on my part. The cover was arranged, but not paid for. The quote was excessive and I had anticipated negotiating a better price, but other issues took precedence.’

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ Uncle Edward sounded aghast.

  ‘I checked the ledgers and paperwork last week.’ Now Violet could see why Pa had been convinced in the face of all the evidence that the Dover Belle was safe – the alternative had been too much to bear. ’There is a contract, but there are no signatories. The premium was never paid.’

  ‘Then we are in deep trouble. What a disaster! This is all your fault. I place the blame entirely at your door because you’ve been distracted by other ventures. It’s Mr Brooke, isn’t it? You’ve been working with him to feather your nest – and his.’

  ‘Mr Brooke offered you a share in this enterprise,’ Pa said.

  ‘Which I declined because I don’t trust him. I thought we were partners in the Dover Belle, looking after our mutual interests with care and attention. Now I find that you’ve been neglecting our business and consorting with the enemy.’

  ‘He’s no enemy. He came to us with a proposition – a very reasonable one, I should point out – and a share in his wine importing business which fits in with our existing portfolio.’