by Janet Woods
She shouldn’t vent her temper on the child. ‘Not with you, Kate.’ Opening the door, she gave the girl a hug. ‘Goodbye, my dear. It was lovely to meet you.’
Seth appeared at the bottom of the stairs, hat and cane in hand. He looked contrite. ‘Thank you for the tea.’
She offered him the hand of friendship with, ‘I was too churlish.’
‘I goaded you.’
‘Yes, you did.’ Against her better judgement Joanna took two steps down the stairs towards him. ‘Deliberately, I think.’
His smile was slightly enigmatic. ‘You could be right, at that. Can we still be friends?’
Seth had helped save her son’s life. Descending a few more stairs she allowed her expression to soften. ‘I don’t want us to part thinking badly of one another. Thank you for the hard labour. I appreciate the help.’
‘I enjoyed it.’ He held out a hand to her. ‘Will you see me out, then?’
There was a moment of hesitation before she took his hand to close the gap between them, for she was reluctant to let him go now. His palm was firm against hers, as he turned it up to inspect the calluses. ‘These were hard earned.’
‘I’ll get used to manual work again.’
‘You shouldn’t have to,’ he said almost angrily.
‘But I will, for I have my son to raise.’
‘May I call on you again the next time I visit the island?’
She nodded, even though Portland was not a place one passed through to reach anywhere else.
They parted on the doorstep and she watched him walk off, not down the hill as she’d expected, but up towards Reforne. She supposed he was staying the night at one of the inns, for travelling with a child wasn’t easy, and Kate would tire quickly. Both of them turned to wave before she closed the door.
Thinking the money was gone, Joanna’s heart sank a little at having nothing set aside to fall back on. She noticed that the brown jug was back on the shelf as she scooped the jewellery back into its bag. Later that evening, she discovered the money was tucked inside the jug. There was a note, written in pencil, the letters scrawling across both sides of two small pieces of notepaper.
Joanna, my dear,
I can easily afford this. Forget pride, which, although satisfying, will not keep you warm. Accept the money as a gift and embrace the thought that it came to me through legacy, so it wasn’t hard earned.
I cannot bear the thought of you or your son being deprived of food and warmth this winter.
Until we meet again, yours in all sincerity,
Seth Adams
As Joanna finished reading the note for a second time, she murmured, ‘So, he does intend us to meet again.’ Her smile held an element of relief. On that basis, she decided it would be stupid not to keep the money.
Touching her mouth with her finger she grinned as she admitted to herself that Seth had been right. That kiss certainly had been a bargain.
From Joanna Morcant’s cottage, Seth went straight to the church, where an old man with dimming eyes and a white beard was sleeping in the sun, his back against a gravestone.
When Seth stirred him with a foot the old man came awake. ‘Hiram is my name. How can I help you, sir?’
‘Is the Reverend Lind around?’
‘The reverend who inherited the scholar’s house over yonder? Richard Lind the scholar’s name was, and it was said he had devils plaguing him so he fell to the ground and jerked about to fight them off. For all that, a kinder man you could never wish to meet, indeed you couldn’t. ’Tis the nephew who’s the reverend.’
‘That’s the one.’
Hiram lifted his cap and scratched his head. ‘The reverend, he be gone to market with his missus just now, her who used to be Tilda Rushmore whose father was George. If it’s praying you’re after, the back door of the church allus be open for sinners who need to have their souls cleansed.’
Seth smiled. He doubted if praying would wash his sins away. ‘Thank you.’ He hesitated before asking, ‘Have you worked here a long time?’
‘Since I was a boy. Never been off the island,’ the old man said proudly, ‘and I’ve outlasted two wives and four of my children.’
‘You must have a strong constitution, Hiram.’
‘Nothing wrong with my memory, either. I saw you come from Joanna Rushmore’s house. A sprightly girl with a mind of her own, though fallen on hard times now. I didn’t expect to see her come back here after she married that London fellow.’
‘Tobias Darsham,’ Seth prompted.
‘That’s the one, him who drowned not two weeks later.’ He jerked his thumb. ‘Darsham’s first wife be over yonder. She and their daughter lost their lives in the storms of thirty-eight. Off the Cormorant, they were. A bad year for wrecks, indeed it was. Her master, Captain Lucian Morcant, is buried nearby. One of his sons used to come and visit his pa, but not recently. I heard he’d married Joanna Rose.’
‘He’s dead.’
‘Do that be so? That accounts for her coming back then, and her with a son of her own, I hear. The girl has a shape to her a man could enjoy, and nice titties, like a pair of plump white doves nestling in her bodice. I do like a lass with a nice pair. Not that I’d be much good to a woman now, no good at all. Fact is, ’tis a wonder I can still draw air.’ The old man grinned toothlessly at him, then fell silent.
‘Tell me about Joanna’s parents,’ Seth prompted.
‘There were none better than Joseph and Anna, though the Lord didn’t bless them with any children until late in life, when Joanna Rose came along.’ Glancing around him, Hiram lowered his voice. ‘There’s some who say Joanna Rose is an outsider who was brought in from a wreck by the storm. Her cradle sailed safely to shore, guided by the soul of Captain Lucian Morcant hisself, who entered the body of a seagull. ’Tis said, and no secret hereabouts, that Joseph Rushmore found her on the beach and took her home to his Anna. And I knows for certain there’s a boy child buried with Honor Darsham, since I saw him before the box was closed.’
Hiram’s chin settled gently back on his chest and his eyelids closed as he mumbled into his beard, ‘’Tis probably true, since Fanny Rushmore herself told me, her who’s in the infirmary at Poole and dying from the scourge of the gin. Though I wouldn’t tell another living soul, indeed not, and the dead allus keep their counsel.’
Not always, Seth thought, and, smiling a little, he dropped a couple of shillings into the old man’s pocket. He called out to Kate, who was inspecting the statue of an angel.
Indignantly, she said, ‘The angel has got hardly any clothes on. Isn’t that rude?’
‘Not if you’re an angel. Luckily, you’re not, in any shape or form.’
He thought Kate had begun to look a little wilted, though she hadn’t complained. ‘As soon as I’ve been into the church we’ll go to Mrs Henry’s boarding house. I’ll carry you up the hill on my back if you’re tired. Tomorrow we’ll go home.’
‘Can’t we sleep in Joanna and Toby’s house? I like it there.’
Titties like plump white doves nestling in her bodice, Hiram had said. Seth grinned. He’d only snatched a glimpse of those particular birds before she’d swiftly buttoned her bodice. But Joanna Morcant certainly wasn’t in the market for a man yet. And from a professional point of view he couldn’t afford to get involved.
‘Sorry, it will have to be Mrs Henry,’ he said firmly.
It didn’t take Seth long to find what he was looking for in the church, since there was nothing to find. Oddly, there was a complete absence of records for Joanna Morcant. There was an entry of birth, marriage and death for her parents, though. A little digging revealed a whole heap of cousins, including Leonard. And if Joanna had been married to Tobias Darsham in this church, as Lord Durrington had suggested, it also hadn’t been recorded.
Joanna herself had never mentioned her first marriage, which struck him as rather odd. She’d been cautious, not giving much away. Her ability to out think him had not only surprised him, but had g
ained his respect.
So whose daughter was she? Seth didn’t attach much credence to gossip, but he didn’t like the way this was beginning to look.
Joanna was hanging out the washing the following week when Oliver Morcant and his two sisters arrived unexpectedly.
Joanna’s heart went out to him, for he looked so gaunt. ‘My mother’s dying and we’ve lost our home,’ he said bleakly. ‘I wondered if you’d take my sisters in, since I need to get to America and sort her affairs out. I was hoping to pick up a ship in Poole and work my passage. I was going to throw myself on the mercy of Charlotte. But my sisters said you’d offered, and . . .’ He spread his hands with a helpless gesture that tugged at her heart. ‘Here they are.’
‘When I said they could come any time, I meant it.’ She smiled at the girls, who looked travel stained and weary. ‘You’ve had a hard time of it, haven’t you? Of course you’re welcome to stay.’
‘It’s horrible being poor,’ Lydia said. ‘We had to walk all the way from London, except when people gave us rides. And we got so hungry.’
‘I quite enjoyed it, except I got blisters on my heels and the luggage was heavy,’ Irene remarked. She gazed dubiously at Joanna’s cottage. ‘This is rather a small house.’
‘It’s quite large for an island cottage, and is fairly roomy inside. But I haven’t got much, and you’ll have to help, for we’ll need to earn the money to feed ourselves.’
Lydia said offhandedly, ‘Oh, we won’t mind, since Oliver told us you were not well off, and neither are we now. It will probably be fun learning how to manage, and we’ll help in any way we can, won’t we, Irene?’
The pair exchanged identical but slightly dubious smiles.
Irene suddenly seemed to brighten. ‘When we came up the hill we saw a ladies’ clothing store, though it looked dreadfully old fashioned. We know a lot about fashion, so we thought we might apply for a job there and earn some money. Let’s go and unpack our bags, Lydia.’
It wouldn’t be that easy to find work, as they’d learn, but at least they were willing and optimistic. Smiling, Joanna nodded towards the house. ‘Upstairs there are two small rooms under the eaves you can use. If you’d prefer to share, there’s a larger room downstairs.’
And the big bed Fanny Rushmore had used was still in there. Tilda had brought a new mattress cover made from ticking for it, and they’d filled it with fresh feathers bought from a market stall.
‘It was my mother who ruined the mattress in the first place,’ Tilda had said when Joanna had protested, for the original one, disgustingly stained with several years of spilled food, and liquids of a dubious nature, had clearly been beyond redemption. Joanna had shuddered at the sight of it, and had thrown it on top of the bonfire.
‘The downstairs room is a sitting room really, but it’s never been used as one. You’d have to share a bed, but it’s a large one and the mattress is new. Try not to wake Toby up when you go in. He’s having his nap.’
The twins carried in the luggage, struggling a little under the weight of the bags and coming back for the boxes Oliver had been carrying.
‘What have they brought with them?’ she said with a smile.
‘Anything they could lay their hands on, I think. It weighed a ton.’ Oliver picked up his own modest travelling bag and shuffled his feet. ‘I’ve got a long way to go, so I’ll be off. I’m sorry I can’t offer you anything for the girls’ keep, Joanna. But we have nothing left, and I was at my wits’ end.’
‘We’ll manage, and they’ll learn to survive, I promise you.’ As he turned to go, she said, ‘Wait a minute, would you?’ Going into the house Joanna took ten shillings from her precious hoard then, when she returned, slid the thick gold wedding ring from her finger and pressed it into his hand. There was no room for sentiment when hunger was an issue.
‘The money should buy you a meal or two and a bed for the night if you need one. Alex gave me the ring when we exchanged our vows on board the Joanna Rose. It’s solid gold. Wear it, and sell it if you need something to fall back on. God speed, Oliver. Come back to us.’
‘Aye, I will. Who would have thought the Morcant family would ever have been brought so low?’ Tears came into his eyes. Hugging her tight, he said thickly, ‘I can’t thank you enough, Joanna.’ Then he was gone, striding briskly off down the hill, though his shoulders were slumped with tiredness. Joanna wished he would have stayed for the night.
She finished hanging the washing out and went indoors. The twins were settling themselves in the downstairs room. Clothes covered the couch.
‘There’s nowhere to put anything,’ one of them wailed.
‘You can use one of the small bedrooms for clothing, but, goodness, you won’t need all those fancy things here, and if the wind gets under those crinoline hoops it’ll lift you off your feet and blow you away. What’s in these boxes?’
‘Silver candlesticks in that one. We thought they might come in handy if we had to sleep in a barn, or something. But we forgot to pack candles. There’s our crystal dressing table stands, mirrors and hair brushes, and some figurines from our bedrooms that we liked. I don’t know how we’ll manage without a maid to do our hair, though.’
‘Joanna manages,’ Irene pointed out.
Gazing at Joanna’s windswept braid, Lydia gave a bit of a giggle that sounded close to tears. ‘Mama would have a fit.’
Irene shrugged. ‘Since our mother will soon be dead, I doubt it. Besides, we said we wouldn’t mention her name again after she cast us aside.’
The girls were certainly impractical, if enterprising. ‘Well, just keep those figurines out of Toby’s way,’ Joanna said, hearing her son begin to rattle the bars of his cot. ‘Perhaps it would be better if you left them packed for now.’
The visitors were a distraction for Toby, who pulled on a charming smile at the sight of his aunties.
Tears came to Irene’s eyes, and Lydia choked back a sob as she whispered, ‘Toby is so much like Alex. Our brother was always so nice to us, and he often took our side against Mother. We loved him so much.’
‘So did I,’ Joanna murmured, unable to keep a brave façade in the face of this unrestrained demonstration of female grief. Soon, the three of them were sobbing in each other’s arms.
Pulling himself up against his mother’s knee, Toby laid his head on her lap and joined in with distressed howls.
Lydia and Irene learned the hard way.
Joanna had to teach the girls the basics. How to structure their day, so every minute was gainfully employed. How to eke out the food they had, so they ate what they needed without waste. How to bake bread, kill and dress a chicken, and make a stew.
October came in with a roar and some of the worst storms the island had experienced in years. Ships were lost, and Joanna prayed that Oliver was safe.
They all lost some weight, except Toby, who gained some. But the girls never complained when food was scarce, and they laughed at each other’s mistakes, regarding the whole thing as an adventure. They adored Toby and spoiled him constantly.
Christmas came and went, celebrated with a feast at Tilda’s table after the church service. Toby celebrated his first birthday early in January, and a month later found his feet, and some new adventures because of it. Towards the end of a cold and hard winter, when Joanna’s money jug was almost empty, she was offered a cleaning job at one of the quarry owners’ houses.
Her new mistress, Mrs Abernathy, was a thin, unhappy woman, who complained bitterly about her lot in life. Her daughter, Harriet, was rather cowed, and Joanna felt sorry for her.
‘I don’t see why we should have to live on the island,’ Mrs Abernathy said one day. ‘Harriet is missing out on so much and I want her to marry well. She’s reached the age when they need to be taught certain refinements, and I can’t keep taking her to Weymouth.’
‘I think I can help you, Mrs Abernathy. My sisters-in-law are well versed in social matters, even though they’ve fallen on hard times.’
Mrs Abernathy gazed down her nose. ‘I’ve seen the young ladies about. Can they play the piano, dance and sing?’
Joanna crossed her fingers. ‘Most certainly.’
The woman sighed, but her eyes had sharpened. ‘I’m not well off. I can only pay them a small amount.’
The Abernathy family were as wealthy as lords, and as pinchpenny as misers. ‘That’s unfortunate, since I have no intention of allowing them to work for subsistence wages. I thought to give you the first chance of employing one of them, but others are interested.’
‘I shall interview them,’ Mrs Abernathy said hastily. ‘If they suit, I’ll talk to my husband. You may bring them up this afternoon and if I like them I shall choose one. Now, get on with folding that washing up. The windows needs cleaning and you haven’t got all day.’
When they learned of their fate, the pair smiled ironically at each other. Irene then said lightly, ‘What fun. We shall go to the interview, and we’ll share the job and home chores between us. As for payment, Mama used to pay our music tutor and dancing master a vast amount of money. We shall charge the same.’
‘I doubt if Mrs Abernathy will pay a professional fee.’
‘We shall see.’
As expected, Mrs Abernathy balked at the fee they intended to charge.
‘We were taught dancing at the Germaine St Claire academy for young ladies,’ Lydia cried out in faked affront. ‘My sister was awarded first prize in the piano recital contest at the Boston music conservatory, and we won’t be condescended to.’
Irene promptly seated herself at the piano to play several sweeping and elaborate trills, which seemed to impress the woman. Toby clapped his hands and jiggled up and down on Joanna’s lap.
Mrs Abernathy gazed from one to the other, looking surprised and slightly overawed, making it obvious she had very few social graces herself. ‘How will I tell you apart?’
They exchanged a glance. The slight difference in their hair colour was rarely noticed and it amused them when people couldn’t tell them apart. ‘Goodness, you’ll have no need to, since we’ll both answer to Miss Nash.’ Lydia drew forth the daughter of the house. ‘Come, seat yourself beside Miss Nash, young lady. We shall decide if you have any talent.’
