by Val Wood
‘He’s an old friend of Stephen’s,’ he said. ‘Don’t be alarmed. It’s natural that he would call.’
But she knew it to be otherwise. George Hill had been to visit Stephen only the day before. He met them at the door. His face was grave and he looked tired. ‘I’ve been here all night,’ he told Jenny wearily. ‘Some impulse made me call on the way back home after seeing you.’ He glanced at John Laslett. ‘Would you mind waiting downstairs, sir?’ he asked as they followed him into the kitchen. The room was cold and there was no fire.
Jenny shuddered. ‘Is he worse?’ she whispered.
George Hill nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m afraid so. You must prepare yourself, Jenny, and you too, sir,’ he said to Mr Laslett, whose face had turned pale.
The doctor helped her up the stairs, for her legs had suddenly gone weak. When they reached the landing, he whispered, ‘There’s nothing more I can do for him, apart from giving him medication for the pain. His chest was crushed during the accident and, as I said before, I fear there was some internal damage.’
‘But –’ Jenny held on to the doctor’s arm. ‘He’s so strong, surely –’
He shook his head and gently propelled her into the bedroom. ‘Here’s your lovely wife, Stephen,’ he said heartily. ‘Didn’t I tell you she was on her way?’
Stephen didn’t move, but half opened his eyes. ‘Jenny! I’m on my way too. Has George told you?’ His voice was low and breathless. ‘What a mess I’ve made of everything. Shouldn’t have done that ploughing. Who’ll plant the corn now?’
‘Ssh,’ Jenny said. ‘It won’t matter if you miss a year.’ She blinked away her tears. Stephen’s face was ashen as if he was in pain and his chest was bruised and blackened. ‘Your father’s downstairs,’ she said. ‘I’ll ask him if he knows someone who can help us out.’
‘Don’t forget this place is Christina’s,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Did George sign my Will?’
Jenny turned towards George Hill who nodded. ‘He did,’ she said, taking a deep breath. ‘Weeks ago. Don’t you remember?’
He gave a shuddering breath. ‘No.’ He swallowed and closed his eyes again. ‘Best get my father up here,’ he whispered. ‘I want to say something to him.’
Dr Hill hurried downstairs and Jenny took hold of Stephen’s hand. ‘I think you should try and put ’past behind you,’ she choked. ‘Your father said he’s willing to try again when you’re better.’
‘I’ll not get better.’ His breathing was shallow and she had to bend her head to hear him.
‘I’ve something to tell you,’ she murmured, close to his ear. ‘Something that will make you want to get better.’
But he had closed his eyes and his father came into the room and sat by the bed, took hold of his other hand and put his head down and wept. ‘Am I too late after all?’ he whispered. ‘Too late to say I’m sorry?’
Stephen half opened his eyes and the corners of his mouth lifted. His lips moved but no words came out.
Jenny looked in alarm at Dr Hill. ‘No!’ she breathed. ‘No! He – he can’t –’ Her words failed. ‘When he’s rested – if I’m here to look after him,’ she implored. ‘Stephen! We’re to have another child.’
But he didn’t hear.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
‘I am now a widow and mother to the heirs of the Laslett Hall estate, and as such am deemed, by two sisters-in-law, to be in an enviable position.’
Jenny dipped her pen into the ink and bent her head over her notebook. ‘Maud and Laura seem not to notice that I am full of sorrow, both for myself and my babies and my unborn child who will never know its father; and also for my poor Christina who feels Stephen’s loss as much as I. I am now to be both mother and father to my children. Pearl and Arabella showed every commiseration and felt the sadness of losing a brother, although I’m a little suspicious of Arabella who is more than pleased that I am to be here permanently. I do not think it’s because she has gained another sister, but because, once my period of mourning is over, I shall have full charge of the household and she will be able to go out visiting friends as she has always wanted to do, except that her father formerly objected, expecting her to stay at home.
‘I am once again, therefore, in a situation of being at home, but without that home being my very own. We have shut up Lavender Cott and brought here everything of value such as the horse and waggon and the dogs. The furniture which once Agnes and then I polished, the cups hanging on the dresser, the plates and pans in the cupboard, and the memories, have all been left, until such time as we open the doors again.’ She lifted her head and gazed out of the window at the greening corn. She sighed and dipped her pen into the ink again. ‘And I also left Stephen in the grave he shares with his first wife and baby Agnes.
‘I brought Stephen’s Will safely back with me and have explained to Christina in the simplest terms that one day Lavender Cott will be hers. She became quite excited and said that she would like to go and play in it, and pretend that she was a mama, just like me. She does tend to become very animated when she is playing games, and I tend to worry that she is very like her father. I mean her real father.
‘Dr Hill visits frequently; he has become a good friend and showed real concern for me when I was very ill following Stephen’s death, and he feared for the child I am carrying. I have, though, made a full physical recovery and I am quite amused and can smile a little when Arabella chatters on, surmising what she thinks is the real reason for Dr Hill’s visits. I gather that she thinks he is visiting her, under the pretext of attending me.’
‘I shall go out for a drive,’ Arabella announced one morning. ‘Perhaps you’d like to come, Jenny? It’s a beautiful day. Would it be seemly, do you think? If you wore a cloak no-one would notice.’
‘I’m not ashamed to be carrying a child.’ Jenny spoke sharply, feeling pettish. It was not the first time that Arabella had been coy about her going out into company, and Jenny judged that within Arabella’s circle of friends and acquaintances, pregnant ladies would rarely be seen. ‘Where will we go? I shouldn’t want to be out too long. Dolly can’t manage all of the children by herself.’
‘Only into Driffield.’ Arabella looked into a mirror and patted her hair, which was coiled beneath a lace cap. ‘I need to buy some summer material and thought perhaps we might call on Pearl whilst we’re there.’
‘But Pearl is expecting visitors! We shouldn’t call unexpectedly.’
‘Oh, but we may. She’s my sister, after all. I know that she won’t mind. And anyway, I have met Mr and Mrs Horsforth before, so it wouldn’t matter in the least. But if they are there,’ she said, suddenly smiling and jolly, ‘then we won’t stay more than a moment or two. We’ll simply greet them and leave.’
‘Who else?’ Jenny knew Arabella well by now. ‘Any other company?’
‘Oh – only their son, I believe,’ she said airily. ‘He is escorting them.’
‘Escorting them? So he’s a grown man? Not a child or young person?’
‘N-no, he is about twenty-eight or so. A banker, but without attachments.’ She beamed at Jenny. ‘No attachments, Jenny! Do come with me. It would look so much better if you did.’
Reluctantly Jenny agreed and pondered that if Arabella married as she wished to, then she would be left in this great house with only her father-in-law, the children and servants for company. How my life has changed, she sighed, putting on her black hat and wispy veil and fastening up her cloak. From being a town girl and kitchen maid without aspirations, apart from earning a living, to running this country house. I never dreamed, she thought, but then dismissed the notion as she often did, for the past didn’t always warrant thinking of, particularly as Christy’s demise had come rushing back since Stephen’s death, bringing the visions and nightmares which had made her so ill.
On impulse she called to Dolly to dress Christina in her coat and bonnet so that she could come too. She liked to have the child with her, even though Dolly found it easier
to handle the other children when Christina was there, as she would entertain and watch out for Johnny who was becoming more mischievous and demanding by the day.
‘Shall we need more help when ’next baby is here, Dolly?’ she asked when the maid brought Christina down. ‘A nursery maid perhaps?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Dolly looked flustered. ‘It would help. Serena and Thomas are as good as gold, but Johnny needs my full attention.’
Jenny nodded and wondered how her own mother ever managed ten children. ‘I’ll speak to Mr Laslett,’ she said, ‘and ask if we could have a young girl for you to train up.’
Her father-in-law had been a great support whilst she was ill, ordering that she was to be indulged in anything she wanted. There had been nothing that she did want, for her life, she felt, had once more been shattered, but she understood that Stephen’s father was full of remorse and was somehow trying to make amends through her.
If I was a scheming kind of woman, she had considered, during the early days of widowhood, then I could demand so much. But what I want now is a secure life for my children. That will be my aim. Has always been my aim. Again she looked back, but on seeing what had been, she shut it out.
Mr and Mrs Horsforth had already arrived on their visit to Pearl and her family. Arabella pretended a great deal of embarrassment at calling so inconveniently, but as her sister knew her intentions very well, they were invited in to take coffee with the visitors. Jenny was given a comfortable chair, and didn’t take off her cloak, as, she explained, they were not staying long on account of shopping. Mr Paul Horsforth came in as introductions were being made, and he was, Jenny decided, a very personable young man with a merry grin, which clouded when he was told of Jenny’s recent bereavement.
‘I remember meeting your husband,’ he said, taking her hand and giving a courtly bow of his head. ‘It was a long time ago and I was only young. I also remember thinking how romantic it was when I heard later that you had run away together.’
There was a sudden silence and Paul Horsforth glanced round at the company, realizing that he had committed some unwitting blunder.
Jenny came to his rescue. ‘That was my husband’s first wife, Mr Horsforth,’ she said. ‘Though you can be forgiven for ’misunderstanding. Agnes, Stephen’s first wife, was never spoken of or accepted by his family. It was as if –’ She hesitated. ‘As if by not speaking about her they could ignore the fact that she had ever existed.’ She smiled wistfully. ‘And yet she and Stephen spent many happy years together until her death. That can never be denied.’
‘How very brave you are, Mrs Laslett,’ he murmured. ‘I do admire your honesty and moral strength.’
Jenny saw Arabella’s mouth draw in a tight line as Paul Horsforth chose to be seated next to Jenny, and as soon as they had finished their coffee she rose with excuses that they must be on their way to finish their shopping and that Jenny’s children would be waiting for them.
‘Not me,’ Christina piped up. She had been sitting so quietly that she was almost unobserved. ‘I’m not waiting. I’m a big girl and can come out with Mama and Aunt Bella. Aunt Bella hasn’t got any babies,’ she said. ‘But we’ve got three, and Mama’s going to have another one soon and that will make four.’
Jenny blushed and Arabella put her hand to her throat in embarrassment. Pearl gave a cough and Mrs Horsforth looked away, but Paul Horsforth smiled and patted Christina on the cheek, and offered Jenny his best wishes for the future. ‘I look forward to meeting you again, Mrs Laslett,’ he said.
‘Indeed, yes,’ his mother boomed. ‘I will be glad to hear that you are over your trouble.’
Jenny dipped her knee to the older woman. ‘Thank you for your concern, Mrs Horsforth, but it’s no trouble at all. It will be a joy.’
‘How mortifying,’ Arabella gasped as they drove away. ‘So – so humiliating!’
‘Why?’ Jenny asked, hiding a wry smile. ‘Do you mean because of Mr Horsforth’s mistake over Agnes, or over ’forthcoming birth?’
‘Well, both!’ Arabella shuddered. ‘And, I have to say, that is the difference between us, Jenny! Neither of those subjects should have been discussed! Especially in front of gentlemen, and’, she added, ‘I really don’t think you should have told Christina about – about –’ She looked down at the little girl, squashed between them. ‘You know!’
‘I had to tell her,’ Jenny explained quietly. ‘It was ’only comfort I could offer her after Stephen died. Children feel grief,’ she added. ‘She misses him. She misses him a lot. She has to have something to look forward to.’
As Jenny’s confinement drew near at the end of the autumn, Arabella asked if she had chosen a name for the child.
‘I haven’t thought of a girl’s name,’ Jenny said. ‘And as for a boy,’ she gave a sigh, ‘I would have liked it to be Stephen, but as Johnny is also Stephen, that won’t do. Perhaps William,’ she said. ‘I once had a good friend called William, though he was always known as Billy. It seems a steady sort of name.’
‘It does,’ Arabella agreed. ‘My father’s brother was called William, so it is a family name and would be very suitable.’
And so it was that William St John Laslett came into the world. He was a big baby with large hands and feet and a good-natured temperament. Dr Hill delivered him with the help of a local midwife, who, though as efficient as Mrs Burley, lacked her warmth and solicitude after a long and difficult labour.
‘Women like Mrs Burley make natural midwives,’ George Hill said when Jenny commented on this. ‘They actually like babies.’ He sat at the foot of the bed, for he had insisted that after this confinement she should take a longer bed rest than she had ever done before. ‘You don’t need to get up,’ he had said. ‘You have servants to attend you.’
He looked at her now, a week later, as she lay propped up on pillows. ‘You look well, Jenny. How are you feeling?’
‘Empty,’ she confided. ‘And alone. Stephen’s family are of course pleased that I have another son, but there’s no-one to share with me in ’joy of a new child. But also,’ she said, turning her head to look out of the window, for from this room the view was of undulating hills and meadows scattered with sheep. ‘But also –’ She swallowed. ‘I know that this will be my last child.’ She gave a deep sigh, and then faced him, giving a sad smile. ‘And yet I am still quite young, not yet four and twenty.’
He gazed at her consolingly. ‘There perhaps will be someone else who’ll care for you, Jenny. It’s too soon to say, but there could yet be another love in your life.’ He patted her hand, the pressure lingering. ‘You are too young to spend the rest of your life in widowhood.’
She shook her head. There was pain in her eyes. ‘I’d be too afraid.’ Her mouth trembled as she spoke.
‘Afraid?’ he asked softly. ‘Of what?’
She licked her dry lips. ‘Not for myself,’ she whispered. ‘But for any man who might become fond of me.’
This time he took firm hold of her hand and held it. ‘What nonsense is this, Jenny? What are you saying?’
‘There have been two men in my life,’ she said. ‘Christina’s father and Stephen. Both are dead.’
‘I know nothing of Christina’s father, but Stephen’s death had nothing to do with you,’ Dr Hill insisted. ‘He was run down by a waggon. It was those injuries that killed him in the end.’
‘But if I hadn’t been there when Agnes died, he would have come home to Laslett Hall. He wouldn’t have had to work on ’railway line to keep me and the children.’ Her voice had risen. ‘So it was my fault, just as –’ She stopped and took a breath.
He gave a smile and softly teased. ‘And if your father hadn’t met your mother, then you wouldn’t have been here, and you wouldn’t have met Stephen, and I wouldn’t have met you, either.’ His eyes held hers as he added softly, ‘And we would have been so much the poorer.’
There was something in his gaze, some hint of admiration or regard, which made her stir uneasily and withdraw he
r hand. Her emotions were still running wild. ‘All the same,’ she said weakly, and immediately he became the professional medical man.
‘Don’t think about the future,’ he said. ‘You’re still feeling raw and bruised; think only about the present.’
‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘That’s all I can think about. I can’t think about ’past and I can’t visualize the future.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
‘It has been my own decision to stay a widow,’ Jenny wrote. ‘Though I have had offers of marriage. It seems to me to be inconceivable that I, Jenny kitchen-maid, as was, should be looked upon as an eligible spouse. This is not because of any qualities of my own, of course, but because of my father-in-law who is rich, and by virtue of the fact that my sons will eventually be landowners in their own right when they inherit. At least, I trust that they will inherit, but there is no knowing how things will turn out.
‘Johnny, being the eldest boy, would naturally be the favoured grandson to take over the reins of the estate, except that he shows no inclination for farming, and since he was very small has marched around the house and grounds with a stick over his shoulder, and on his head a paper hat, which Christina fashioned for him, stating quite emphatically that he is going to be a soldier. He is now thirteen, tall and with the temperament of his father and grandfather, still of the same mind, and his grandfather is becoming impatient with him.
‘Thomas, on the other hand, at twelve has a quieter nature, is stockily built, and has always watched the weather, the birds, the cattle and the corn. He tells us when rain is due or when the crops are ready for harvesting, and knows all the farm hands by name. He can handle horses, make hay and stook corn, whereas Johnny can’t or won’t do any of these things except under sufferance.
‘My youngest boy, William, is an amiable placid child, which is surprising when I think of the circumstances of his birth, when I was so lonely and unhappy, but he has been such a comfort to me over the last eleven years, soothes my humours and makes me smile.
