A Thimbleful of Hope

by Evie Grace

  ‘Madame Arv—’

  ‘No, not that.’

  ‘Claudette,’ the woman said quietly, looking her in the eye.

  Violet almost laughed, the story was even more preposterous: Claudette, the disfigured sister, hidden from view, was in fact Arvin’s wife.

  ‘You rang for me,’ May said from the parlour door.

  ‘Forget the tea. Fetch some brandy and two glasses, please,’ Violet said, and the maid frowned and scurried away.

  ‘I wasn’t happy when I found out that my husband had become involved with another woman, but I didn’t imagine that he’d married her! He told me you were ugly and flat-footed like a duckling. I should have guessed that he was lying.’ She uttered an epithet in French. ‘I could wring his neck! He has betrayed me and been the ruin of you.’

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t speak so harshly of him,’ Violet countered.

  ‘Because he is dead? Oh dear, when you have had time to reflect, you will feel the same. Where do you think your beloved was last summer, for example? He was overseeing the harvest and the pressing during the day, and spending the nights in my bed, of course.’

  How indelicate, Violet thought, but it made sense. Those prolonged trips to France: to check on the grapes; for business; to see his sister. But when he’d come back he’d been passionate and affectionate … How could he have been so duplicitous?

  ‘Brandy, missus,’ May said, interrupting the conversation.

  ‘Merci,’ the other Mrs Brooke said, as May poured two glasses from the decanter. As she watched her take a sip, Violet hoped she would choke on it.

  ‘Please leave us,’ she said firmly when May stoked the fire and put a log on top of the coals, then hovered, ready to pour out a second glass of brandy for their unwanted guest. The maid made herself scarce.

  ‘I expect you married in the Chantilly lace,’ Claudette said.

  ‘A gift passed down from Arvin’s mother.’ As soon as she said it, Violet realised it had been another lie.

  ‘He gave it to me first.’

  ‘Arvin and I are legally married,’ Violet said, remembering how the fragrance of lilies had lingered on the lace, the perfume which Arvin said his mother had used to keep it fresh. Even though the idea of him lying with another woman cut her to the quick, she would maintain her dignity. She had done nothing wrong. ‘We said our vows – sacred vows – in church and signed the register in front of witnesses. I am his true wife. There is no overturning it.’

  ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you. He married me first and there’s proof of our union in France. I intend to remain here in Dover – don’t worry, I’ll take a room at the Warden Hotel – until I have proven my claim and collected his possessions. I intend to return to France as soon as possible. I have no desire to embarrass you, although perhaps my departure might be hastened upon a small payment from your dear father.’

  ‘That is extortion.’ Violet began to shake uncontrollably.

  ‘It is common sense on my part.’ Her tears for her lost husband appeared to have completely dried up as she stood from her chair. ‘I will take my leave now. I’m very grateful for your hospitality, Miss Rayfield. I’ll see myself out.’

  Violet stayed sitting in her chair, staring at the fire until the sound of the woman’s footsteps faded, and the front door clicked shut. A log cracked, throwing a cinder on to the rug, and gradually the smell of burning replaced the scent of the woman’s perfume and the rug began to smoke. She watched a tiny flame grow and begin to take hold of the fibres, just as the woman’s revelations had set alight a fire of confusing thoughts in her head.

  Which of them was right? Which of them would be recognised as the true Mrs Brooke and what fate would befall the other?

  ‘Oh dear, oh dear. Forgive me, but what are you thinkin’?’ May came rushing in, holding up her skirt and stamping on the flames to put them out. ‘I dread to think what would ’ave happened if I ’adn’t come in when I did. The whole place would ’ave gone up.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Violet whispered.

  ‘You are unwell? Shall I send for the doctor? Or your sister? You really shouldn’t be left alone at a time like this.’

  ‘I am quite well, thank you.’ It had been an odd sensation, watching the potential disaster gradually unfolding, knowing she should have stopped it before it had gone this far, but being unable to move, her limbs weighed down with shock and renewed grief. For she had no doubt that what the stranger had said was true. That she believed she was Arvin’s true wife.

  What kind of man had Arvin been that he would willingly enter into marriage with her, knowing that if the truth came out, she would be ruined? She couldn’t believe that. The carte de visite had been a fake. She wouldn’t slight her husband’s reputation by entertaining doubt when he was dead and couldn’t speak for himself. She would have to speak for him.

  ‘I just want to say that I’m very sorry,’ May said. ‘Will you be wanting dinner this evening?’

  She deliberated for a moment. She needed time to let the detail of the visit sink in, yet she wasn’t sure how long she would have to investigate the woman’s claims and overturn them. It wasn’t an issue one could wait upon to see what happened next because, even though she judged the woman’s claims a mistake, much damage could be done to her family’s reputation if she should continue repeating them to all and sundry in Dover.

  She consoled herself with the idea that the situation was so far-fetched that it couldn’t possibly be real. She needed to speak to someone, but to whom could she turn?

  It was something that should be kept within the family. No one else must know, apart from May. She could guess what Miss Whiteway would have said on the matter – that it wasn’t right for a woman to be shamed because of a man’s dishonesty, but it was the way of the world.

  ‘Mrs Brooke. Mrs Brooke!’ May’s voice cut into her consciousness. ‘Forgive me for saying this, but you are away with the fairies. I asked you if you require dinner.’

  ‘I’m sorry. You’re right – I’m not quite myself. As for dinner – not tonight, thank you. I’m going to call on my father.’ She would take the information to his door and let him advise her. He would know what to do and he owed her. Not only had he threatened to cut her off from her family, he had allowed his affection for Arvin to overwhelm his better judgement. If he had been more careful with his dealings with the Dover Belle, and his investments in the railway, then he wouldn’t have ended up in such dire straits that he would marry off one of his daughters to a man he didn’t know to restore the family’s fortunes.

  It had turned out to be a disastrous error – for all of them – and it was up to him to sort it out.

  ‘I trust I can depend on your discretion, May,’ she said.

  ‘If anyone asks, I’ll say that nobody called.’

  ‘That will be all then. Take the rest of the evening off. I’ll take a key and let myself back in.’

  Flushed from the brandy and the heat from the fire, Violet pushed herself up from her chair, and fetched her coat, muff, hat and button-up boots before heading out. She pulled up her coat collar against the icy chill and walked along Marine Drive under the gleaming gaslights to the Rayfields. When she reached the house, she ran up the steps and rang the bell.

  Wilson opened the door and showed her through to the parlour where her father was sitting in his favourite leather chair. When he saw her, he stood up and rushed over to greet her, grasping both her hands.

  ‘You have come! You have come to the right decision! I assure you of my deep and everlasting gratitude for agreeing to do your duty to your family.’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head to emphasise the point. ‘I’m here for another reason entirely.’

  ‘Oh? What a pity.’ He gazed into her eyes. ‘I had such hopes …’

  ‘How is Ma?’ she asked.

  ‘She’s sleeping. According to Eleanor, she has had one of her good days.’

  ‘That’s something to be thankful for, then,’ she sai
d. ‘Father—’

  ‘I wish you would call me Pa again,’ he said mournfully, but she dismissed his plea. It was too late for that. What had been said and done could never be taken back.

  ‘I came because I need your advice on a matter which affects us all. I received a visitor this afternoon, a most disagreeable and unpleasant woman.’

  Her father released her hands.

  ‘Come and sit down. Tell me all about it,’ he said gruffly, and they sat down side by side on the chaise. He looked grey and drawn, a man who had been much altered by circumstance. His figure was slimmer, shrunken as if, like an old piece of furniture, he’d had all the stuffing knocked out of him.

  He sat in silence, his hands pressed together as though in prayer, while she told him the story of what had happened that afternoon.

  ‘Why did you sit and listen to her lies? Oh, this is preposterous.’ The knotted veins at his temple stood out from his skin. ‘She will be after his money. That’s what it’s all about,’ he said a little more cheerfully. ‘There is no other explanation.’

  ‘Except the one that she put forward,’ Violet said softly. ‘She was very convincing.’

  ‘But she’s a fraudster all the same. Arvin wouldn’t have done something like this – I always found him to be a decent and honest man. Did this woman say where she was staying? I assume she is still here in Dover.’

  ‘She told me she would take a room at the Warden Hotel.’

  ‘My dear—’

  ‘I am not your dear,’ she said sharply.

  ‘I’m determined to redeem myself. Violet, don’t worry about this woman. I’ll call on her first thing in the morning and persuade her out of this delusion.’

  ‘I’d like to come with you – this is my business.’

  ‘No, this is my fault. Let me go and put a lid firmly on top of her ridiculous claims. Why don’t you stay here tonight? Your sisters will be pleased to see you – they’re upstairs with your mother.’

  She wanted to see them, but she couldn’t face having to explain why she had called, nor did she have the strength to pretend that all was well.

  ‘Give them my regards,’ she said. ‘I’ll walk myself home.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Truth Will Out

  It was raining stair rods when her father called on her the next day. Violet guessed from his expression that he had bad news.

  ‘She is certain she is the true Mrs Brooke,’ he said, mopping the rain from his face as he stepped inside the parlour. ‘I’ve offered to pay her off, but she won’t budge. She says there’s nothing I can do to persuade her to let the matter rest – she wishes to prove her case for the sake of her reputation. I’m afraid that if she carries on like this, it’s going to be most unpleasant. The matter may well end up in court.’

  ‘Why’s that? Arvin is gone, missing presumed dead. You can’t prosecute a dead man.’

  ‘I’m afraid that it will be you who goes on trial.’ Pa picked at his nail, leaving it blunt. ‘I’m going to hire Mr Wiggins to look into this properly and challenge her position.’

  ‘Can you afford it, Father?’ she said frankly.

  ‘I’ll borrow the funds.’

  ‘Is that wise?’

  ‘We have nothing much left to lose and everything to gain, because when we prove that you are his true wife – and I have no reason to doubt that the court will rule in our favour – then you will inherit Arvin’s estate.’

  ‘And I’ll be able to pay off your loan with interest,’ she said, not wanting to be obliged to him in any way. ‘What if the court finds against us?’

  ‘That won’t happen. Arvin would never have set out to deceive us. I knew what kind of man he was as soon as I clapped eyes on him. Was he not the perfect husband?’

  She couldn’t answer. It was too painful.

  ‘You blamed him for the loss of the gold,’ she said defiantly, ‘and this woman claims that he was going to take it and abandon me on the way to Paris.’

  ‘Whom would you believe? Your husband or a stranger? She’s out to make some money, that’s all. It’s a case of extortion, pure and simple.’

  ‘I don’t see what we can do when it’s my word against hers.’

  ‘If Mr Wiggins decides that it’s the correct procedure, then we will attend court. It’s your duty to defend yourself – for your own interest and that of the family.’

  ‘I’ve told you before – I’ll have no more talk of duty. I owe you nothing.’

  ‘But you owe it to yourself. I can’t afford to support you – you are reliant on your husband’s inheritance. What would you do, if you lost that?’

  She shivered, realising that she was caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.

  ‘How about witnesses?’ he went on. ‘I think we should be prepared.’

  Her brow tightened.

  ‘I mean, there are people who can testify that they have seen you and Arvin together, behaving in a kind and affectionate manner to one another?’

  ‘Well, yes.’ She blushed at the memory of how they had held hands at the breakfast table while on honeymoon at the hotel in Scotland, how he had showered her with kisses in front of the guard on the train on the way back home. He hadn’t behaved in such a husbandly manner on the Samphire. In fact, he had neglected her. ‘Those things don’t hold any weight anyway. We have our signatures witnessed in the register at the church. Our guests saw us marry – there is no question—’

  ‘Except for the claims of this Frenchwoman …’ Her father swore – he actually cursed out loud in front of her. ‘I suggest that we don’t speak of this to anyone yet – let’s keep it under wraps.’

  ‘I shall continue to consider myself the true Mrs Brooke,’ Violet said fiercely. ‘I will not be cowed because I know it’s the truth.’

  ‘I admire your strength – I’m afraid that you’re going to need it. I’ll send word when I know more.’ Her father bade her farewell, and Violet retired to the parlour where she spent the rest of the day, lost in her embroidery and her thoughts.

  She knew why her father was worried – if the Rayfields did turn out to have been tainted by a bigamous marriage, it would be a scandal. She would be shamed, and her sisters would suffer. It would reflect badly on her father, too.

  The next morning, she and her father hurried to the solicitor’s where they took their seats with Mr Wiggins at a vast mahogany table in a high-ceilinged room.

  ‘I’m afraid that what you feared has come to pass, Mr Rayfield,’ the solicitor said without preamble. ‘The secret is out.’ He waved to his clerk who had been loitering at the door. The young man brought an armful of newspapers over to the table and laid them out. ‘The Frenchwoman has sold her story to the pedlars of sensation and rumour.’

  ‘Turn away, Violet – I’d hoped to keep this from you,’ her father said, but she refused to be spared the vicious headlines.

  Bigamy! A Cruel Deception! Miss Violet Rayfield. The Two Mrs Brookes.

  Her name was all over the papers from The Times to the Dover Chronicle and Cinque Ports General Advertiser. She pictured people at home swallowing the lies over breakfast and chewing over them in the inns and eateries. She felt like a criminal, yet she’d done nothing wrong.

  ‘These are wicked, scurrilous stories,’ she exclaimed. ‘How can they do this?’

  ‘We can sue for libel – defamation of your character and reputation – as long as we can demonstrate that Madame Brooke, as she calls herself, is lying,’ Mr Wiggins said. ‘However, I will tread carefully and ascertain all the facts, Mrs Brooke. As I said to Mr Rayfield yesterday, this unfortunate situation may be settled without recourse to the courts, but there are difficulties. Firstly, that the gentleman who is alleged to have committed bigamy was certified dead by the coroner – that may have to be reviewed. Secondly, Madame Brooke has already lodged a caveat at the Probate Office to contest Mr Brooke’s will before probate can be granted.’

  ‘I knew it. She is a chancer, a crook out
for his money,’ Violet’s father said crossly. ‘She’s already made a tidy sum from the newspapers, raking our good name through the mud, and now she wants Arvin’s estate.’

  Violet didn’t know what to think. It seemed extreme to risk one’s own reputation without having good grounds.

  ‘I need to ask you some questions. Mr Stone.’ Mr Wiggins gestured to his clerk to sit beside him. He picked up a pen, dipped it in the inkwell and began to screeve a note of the conversation. ‘Mrs Brooke, no matter how painful this is, now is the time for you to be completely frank with me. I must have all the facts so that I can create a watertight case against Madame Brooke.

  ‘Let us start at the beginning. How did you meet Mr Arvin Brooke?’

  The solicitor’s question took her right back to the night of the ball, how she’d danced with the clumsy man who was to become her husband. More questions followed: what kind of man was he?

  ‘He was a good man, the best,’ her father interrupted.

  ‘Please be silent, Mr Rayfield,’ Mr Wiggins said. ‘All in good time – I will interrogate you later.’

  Violet knew why her father wanted to protect Arvin’s reputation – he still couldn’t believe that he would have wronged him. It seemed ironic that Arvin had been so busy plotting Pa’s downfall that he’d walked straight into his own.

  She went on to answer in the affirmative when Mr Wiggins asked her about the wedding ceremony and the signing of the register, and whether or not they had consummated the marriage. There was no sparing her blushes – it had to be done and in the presence of three men. By the end of the meeting, she felt like a wet sheet put through the mangle.

  ‘I’ll dictate a letter to be delivered by hand to Madame Brooke to see how she wishes to proceed with this matter,’ Mr Wiggins said. ‘If at all possible, we will settle this quietly, but if she insists on pursuing her claim through the courts, I will prepare papers to present to the bench.’