“Has someone been through your things then, Ma’am?” Bessie looked worried but it was different from her worry before. That had been fear for her position if she were to be accused of stealing, this was a different kind of fear though.
“Oh, I probably just forgot how I left things,” she lied. “Why? Does someone here like to go through personal belongings?” She said it as a joke but she watched Bessie intently for her reaction.
“No. Well, not to my knowledge, only…”
“Only?”
“I probably shouldn’t say anything.”
“Bessie, please.” She turned around on the stool and took Bessie’s hand. “If you know something, please tell me.”
“Well, it’s just that the late Duchess, she sometimes complained about stuff like that.”
Helen blinked a few times as she tried to make sense of that information.
“So who was moving her things?”
“No one knows, Ma’am, she died soon afterwards.”
Again Helen sat silently, wondering if she was insane for the direction her thoughts were taking.
“And how did she die?”
“She fell, Ma’am.”
“Are you sure?”
“I was the second one to find her, just after Jenny. Jenny was the scullery maid and the first up back then and I’m her roommate, so she came to fetch me. Poor thing was lying at the bottom of the stairs, as pale as a ghost.”
“Did she fall though, or…” she couldn’t bring herself to finish that sentence.
“I don’t know, Ma’am, but the inquest said it was an accident, and they know about that kind of stuff, don’t they?”
“Did you notice anything unusual about the body when you found her?”
“You mean aside from the fact she was dead?”
The statement was so guileless that Helen actually chuckled. “You’re right, I’m being ridiculous. I'm sorry, Bessie. It must be this grand house and the spooky mists.” She turned around and faced the mirror again. “Forgive me if I upset you.”
“That’s all right, Ma’am.”
Despite how ridiculous it sounded, Helen couldn’t quite shake the idea that someone had been through her possessions. Had she been of a more fanciful nature, she might have wondered if Emma’s ghost was behind it, but Helen had never been prone to flights of fancy. The fact that Emma had experienced similar things before her death however, couldn’t be ignored. Was the person who had moved her items the same one that had upset Emma before her death? If so, what was the point of such an act?
“Please keep an eye on my quarters when you can, Bessie, and if you see anyone other than me or Alex leaving our rooms, let me know?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you, Bessie.”
Chapter Six
Over drinks that evening before dinner, it was decided that Alex’s in-laws, Anna and Jane, would take Helen into town the next day, both to show her around and so that she could order some more dresses. She felt uncomfortable to be spending time with the late Emma’s family but to refuse would be rude.
“I wonder if Rose might like to come too?” Helen smiled at the shy girl.
“Rose doesn’t go into town alone,” came the firm proclamation from Pearl, accompanied by a sniff.
“She wouldn’t be alone,” Helen noted.
“She does not go into town without me. Do I make myself clear?”
“Perfectly clear, except that Rose is an adult and can make her own decisions.”
“She is my daughter, young woman, and she will do as I say!”
Alex placed a hand on Helen’s and shook his head ever so slightly.
“Now, now,” said Clarence as he entered the room. “You can’t start arguing this early in the evening, or whatever shall we do over dessert?” he bent to kiss his mother’s cheek in a perfunctory way.
“Your brother’s new wife wants to take Rose into town tomorrow. Unescorted!” Pearl said this as if it were some kind of heinous crime.
Clarence looked to Rose; her head was bowed, her hands folded in her lap and her arms pressed close to her body, as if she wished to make herself so small that she might disappear from view.
“How about if I escort the ladies and,” he placed his hand over his heart, “promise faithfully to never let Rose out of my sight?”
Alex’s grip on Helen’s hand tightened a fraction and she wondered why he didn’t want Rose to go into town either.
For a moment, Pearl looked as if she would refuse.
“Come along, Mother, you trust me, don’t you?” he cajoled.
“Of course. Very well,” Pearl relaxed and turned to Anna and Jane. “Rose can accompany you tomorrow if Clarence goes with you.”
Rose remained curled in upon herself, until Clarence came and sat on the arm of her sofa and put his hand on her shoulder.
“Well now, that should be a fun little outing, shouldn’t it, Rosie.”
She raised her head and offered him a demure smile.
“Hm, I might go with you as well,” Milton said. “There are a few things I need to pick up in town.”
Alex’s grip on Helen’s hand tightened a little more but Graves announced dinner then, so she didn’t get an opportunity to ask what was wrong.
After dinner they excused themselves again and Alex escorted Helen upstairs, only tonight he didn’t come inside with her, but ventured down the hallway to his door.
Helen watched him until his door closed behind him, and wondered how long it would be until he claimed his marital rights. She was eagerly anticipating what it might be like, while at the same time dreading it. Although her boss had explained a little of what to expect, she didn’t really know much of what was involved and she had been told that it hurt, especially if your partner was selfish. She didn’t really understand how someone being selfish could hurt, and her lack of understanding was part of her fear.
With a sigh, Helen opened her door and rang the bell for Bessie to come and help her undress.
***
The following morning, Helen went to see the boys after breakfast again. Since today was a Saturday, they were drawing rather than learning. Julian was drawing stick figure people outside a big house and after greeting her with a big smile, he was happy to tell her who everyone was. Although it looked nothing like Howard House, he assured her that it was and named everyone on the page.
“And this is you!” he said, pointing to another stick figure person. “I don’t know what to call you though.”
“What would you like to call me?” Helen asked.
Jules frowned as he considered this; apparently it was quite a hard question.
“I want to call you Mummy,” he finally declared. “I’ve never had a Mummy of my own before.”
Helen caught the glare that Joseph was giving them from the corner of her eye but she didn’t acknowledge it.
“Well, even if you don’t remember her, you did have a Mummy and it might be confusing if we shared the same name. How about if you call me Mummy Helen, or Mama.”
“I like Mummy Helen best.”
“Then that’s what you shall call me.”
“I won’t,” she heard Joseph mutter under his breath but she ignored it and went to see what he was drawing.
He had quite a talent for a boy of only seven, and he could become very proficient given time and training. It was easy to recognise what he was drawing.
“That’s lovely,” she said as she looked at the charcoal sketch of the library. “Did you draw all this from memory?”
He gave her an unhappy sidelong glance, then finally nodded his head.
“I think you have a lot of talent, Joseph. Your father would love to see this.”
“No he wouldn’t.”
“Joe!” Miss Bayer reprimanded him.
“It’s all right,” Helen assured the woman. “Why do you say that?” Helen asked Joe.
“Because he doesn’t like me.”
“I'm sure that isn’t tru
e.”
“Yes it is.” He was pressing the charcoal so hard that it snapped in two, so she decided not to delve deeper into his feelings yet.
“Do you know what you would like to call me?” Helen asked him.
He gave her a look that asked if she was an idiot, and she knew that he already had a good few names for her, even if he couldn’t say them out loud.
“How about just Helen?” she suggested.
“‘Just Helen’ is a silly name.”
Helen couldn’t help the smile that formed on her lips but she managed not to laugh.
Joe didn’t miss her smile and he allowed a small smirk to form on his lips. She guessed that he would usually be reprimanded for such insolence, but she couldn’t tell him off for something that had made her laugh.
“Then why don’t you call me Helen,” she suggested.
Perhaps it was relief that he hadn’t been told off, or maybe he enjoyed that she had found his joke amusing, either way, he didn’t put up much of a fight.
“All right, Helen.”
She smiled at him.
“Now, boys, I'm going into town later and I wish I didn’t have to, so to make the trip bearable, I'm going to visit a confectioner and get you both a treat. What do you like?”
“You can’t buy us,” Joe said, sullen again.
“I didn’t realise that a bag of barley sugar could buy a child; I would have bought one years ago if I’d known they were so cheap,” she teased him and though he didn’t want to, he did smile slightly, although he kept his head bent over his drawing.
“I like mar-see-pan sub-tiles.” Jules said.
“Do you mean marzipan subtleties?”
“Yes! Shaped like horses and dogs.”
“And what about you, Joe, what do you like,” Helen asked.
He was silent for a long moment and she thought that he wasn’t going to answer, then he shrugged and said, “Marzipan is fine. And sugared almonds are quite nice.”
Helen smiled. “Then that’s what I’ll get, and perhaps anything else that catches my eye for our almost-but-not-quite-a-picnic tomorrow.”
“Yay!” Jules raised his arms and did some unusual movement that probably made perfect sense in a four-year-old’s head and Helen smiled.
“Well, I’d better be going, I don’t want to keep the others waiting.” She said, getting to her feet. She intentionally wasn’t spending too long with them or being over-familiar, because they probably wouldn’t like that. Jules was just such a happy little boy though, that she couldn’t resist dropping a kiss onto his hair as she passed him.
Jules didn’t seem to notice because he had started a new picture, that could have been sweets or stones and pebbles. Joe noticed however and Helen could feel him watching her as she left the room.
She went back to her bedroom and donned a pelisse that matched her dress, then she retrieved a few coins from her savings for the confectionary and put them into the small purse in her reticule.
The trip into Crowham was a pleasant affair. Without Pearl and her constant disapproval, everyone seemed more relaxed, even Rose.
The carriage easily held six and they sat with Helen, Rose and Milton on one side and Clarence, Jane and Anna on the other. They were discussing fashion and what they should look for in the dressmakers, and the men were teasing them, suggesting garish colours and outdated or outlandish fashions.
The coach stopped outside Madam Vêtements, all six alighted and Helen was surprised to note that the sun had finally burned through the cloud and mist of the last few days and while it was still cool, it was a lovely, bright day. She turned her face to the sky and closed her eyes, but was soon dragged into the shop by Jane.
Both men accompanied them inside, which she thought was unusual but she didn’t question it. Shopping, especially something as time-consuming as clothes, really was Helen’s idea of Hell but she knew that in her new position, she needed to look the part, so she stood patiently as the assistant measured her. She looked through the sketches and books that Madam had and chose half a dozen designs, then she looked through the material bolts and picked her colours and fabrics.
Finally her ordeal seemed to be over and as Madam moved on to Rose, Jane caught her attention and they began to look through the other items on display.
“You chose some fine gowns,” Jane noticed. “You have good taste.”
“Thank you. Are you ordering any?”
“Oh no, not today. I just need to get out of that house sometimes.”
“I understand.”
Jane gave her a sharp glance, then smiled. “I have seen enough of this shop,” she declared. “Would you care to take a walk with me?”
“Yes, thank you. And could we visit a confectioners? I promised the boys I’d bring them something back.”
“Of course we can, but I never touch sweets myself; they are far too moreish and very bad for my figure. Milton!” Jane called and her brother approached. “I am taking Helen for a little stroll but we won’t be very long.”
“May I accompany you?” he asked. “I do so like walking out with a beautiful woman.” He winked at Helen, which made her blush.
“No you may not,” Jane answered. “I wish to get to know my new friend a little better, so you can remain here and continue hoping to get a glimpse of a stocking.”
Milton shook his head in mock disappointment. “You wound me, sister.”
“I will do more than that if you keep up this teasing. Now shoo!”
With a wicked grin and a shocking wink to Helen, Milton headed back into the shop while Helen and Jane stepped out onto the street.
“So, how are you settling in at Howard House?” Jane asked, taking Helen’s arm as they walked.
“I’m not entirely sure to be honest.”
“Yes, Pearl can be very sharp when she wants to be.”
“Do you know why Rose isn’t allowed out without an escort?”
“Oh, that.” Jane rolled her eyes. “It was four or five years ago now, and she was infatuated with a local tradesman. Pearl decided that such a union couldn’t be allowed and has kept poor Rose on a very short tether ever since.”
“Did he… compromise her?”
“Oh no, he was in love with her too, he would never have hurt her.”
“Then I don’t understand.”
“He was in trade, my dear, by which I mean, his father owned shops. I'm afraid it wouldn’t have mattered even if he had compromised her, Pearl would never have allowed the match. Perhaps if he had been very wealthy, like my father, she might have tolerated it but in all honesty, she didn’t like my sister either, or Mother and me. But don’t worry, she will get used to you in time, just as she has become used to us.”
“Why didn’t she like your sister?” Helen asked. She had assumed that Pearl didn’t like her because she paled in comparison to Emma, but perhaps she simply disliked most people.
“Because my family are in trade and the Dowager Countess thinks that is unseemly.”
“But Alex is in trade too.”
“Ah, but Alex is her son and his venture has increased the family’s wealth, so that is allowable; although I still think she would prefer it if he gave up the shipping business. Ah here we are,” Jane said angling them towards the confectioners shop on the corner.
Helen had loved confectioners ever since her father had first taken her into one, when she was seven years old. They were just a trove of treasures, usually as delightful to look at as they were to eat.
She tried not to browse the counter and jars for too long since Jane didn’t like sweets, so she ended up choosing on impulse and with rather more than she intended. With her purchases of marzipan subtleties, sugared almonds, Edinburgh rock, macaroons and a tin of cocoa powder, wrapped or boxed up, the shopkeeper placed them in a bag for her and they left the shop.
“Shall we take a turn around the town?” Jane asked. “With Rose and Mother still to be seen, it will take them a while to finish, especially Mother;
she’s very particular.”
“That sounds nice.”
Helen marvelled at Jane’s confidence as they walked; she seemed to sashay down the street, smiling at any man who caught her eye. Her purple gown seemed to bring out the colour of her eyes and although Helen’s outfit was just as fine, she felt pale by comparison to this woman.
Even if by some miracle she ever did feel beautiful, Helen would never have the confidence to smile at strange men; she had heard too many horror stories. She had been lucky enough not to have experienced any serious danger herself but living in an all-female boarding house, she heard the others talk.
Helen had learned early on that in a bustling city like London, it was best to keep your head down and remain anonymous. She took all the precautions she could, including taking longer but safer routes between her home and her job, and breaking into her precious savings and hiring a hansom cab if she felt in danger.
Perhaps if her father hadn’t died when she was 16, she might be as carefree as Jane but she could simply never be that relaxed again.
Since all the shops they passed were new to her, Helen found her eye being caught by a lot of interesting things as they walked.
“Why do you stay at Howard House if you don’t feel welcome?” Helen asked.
“Because it’s our home.”
“But wouldn’t you feel more comfortable in your own home?”
“Perhaps,” Jane shrugged, “but it was my sister’s home also, and I don’t want to go yet.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No!” Jane stopped and Helen turned to face her. “No one talks about her in that house, it’s as if she doesn’t exist… didn’t exist, but I loved my sister and I like talking about her.”
“Then I’d be happy to listen.”
Jane nodded and they resumed their course. “Emma was a lovely girl, a little more reserved than I am but we were best friends.”
“How was her marriage?”
“Oh, civil enough I suppose, at least in the beginning. She liked her home and her wealth and her position, and she loved her sons.”
“But not her husband?”
Love, Lies and Murder Page 6
