Her Saving Grace

by Catherine Winchester

  His own house was new, although built on the site of his father’s home. Wallace had torn that house down soon after he had inherited it and built this, far larger one in its stead. Despite its newness, Nathaniel had to admire the classic Palladian style, even if he thought it a little vulgar.

  Unfortunately the butler informed him that Sondham wasn’t home and was expected to be in London for the rest of the week. Nathaniel left a calling card and asked that Sondham contact him when he returned.

  He next stopped in at the doctor’s house and collected the constable’s tipstaff, although Dr Worthington didn’t have time to chat so he didn’t linger.

  With nothing else to occupy him, he returned to the courthouse, only to be informed by the clerk that Damaris had left.

  “Did she say where she was going?”

  The clerk looked a little frightened.

  “Just say it, man.”

  “She looked upset,” he admitted. “The only thing she said as she left was, ‘I can't leave them there’.”

  He knew exactly where she had gone or at least, where she would turn up.

  He directed his driver to take him back to Mrs Murray’s house but as they passed the High Street, he spotted Damaris and knocked on the front of the carriage to get the driver to stop, He had jumped from the vehicle before it had stilled and ran to Damaris, who did indeed look upset, even distraught. He caught her by the shoulders, halting her progress.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I’m going to get those children,” she said. “I’ve been to the bank and withdrawn money, so I’ll buy them from her.”

  “And then what?”

  She tried to pull from his grasp but he held tightly.

  “Damaris! Then what!” he demanded, shaking her slightly. They were drawing attention but he didn’t care.

  “I don’t know!” she cried. “I just can't leave them there, I can't, they were so-” Her words were cut off as she began to cry, huge sobs wracking her frame.

  He put his arms around her and she allowed him to lead her to the carriage, although she tried to pull away when they got there.

  “No, please, I have to do something, Nate, I have to! You haven’t had a child, you don’t know what they’re supposed to look like but it isn’t like that! They had no spirit left, Nate, they were broken, and I can't, I can't let them stay there. Please, don’t make me.”

  “We will go and get them,” he assured her, “but we’re making something of a spectacle of ourselves and I think we need to get back into the carriage.”

  “Do you really mean that?” she asked, her tears stopping as she searched his face.

  “I will never lie to you, I promise.”

  After a moment, she nodded her acceptance of his words and allowed him to help her into the carriage. He directed the driver to continue but to go slowly.

  “I’m sorry,” Damaris said as she got into the carriage. She had found a handkerchief and was wiping her eyes. He wanted to sit next to her and hold her but she seemed to be doing her best to cling onto her composure; offering sympathy might weaken her defences further, so he took the seat opposite.

  “You must think me insane,” she said, sounding forlorn.

  He didn’t think her insane. He thought that she had been holding her emotions in check for too long, but those children had finally broken through her defences. After years of not feeling anything, he wasn’t surprised that she was overwhelmed.

  “I know it doesn’t make any sense,” she continued before he could reply. “I don’t know what I’ll do with them, I only know that I can't leave them to suffer for one more day.”

  “My thoughts have been taking a similar line,” he admitted. “I have a friend whose father sponsors an orphanage in London. I was planning to write to him and ask his advice.”

  “That’s sensible,” she admitted, but tears began to leak from her eyes again.

  “Hey,” he reached over and caught her hand, giving it a light squeeze. “I understand how you feel and we’ll get those children right now. The details can be sorted out at a later date.”

  “You’re a good man.” She smiled through her tears.

  “And you are a good woman,” he said, moving to sit beside her. She moved down to make room for him.

  “So, what are you planning to do?” he asked.

  “I got money from the bank,” she explained. “I was going to buy them from her.”

  “Why not arrest her?”

  “Because she isn’t doing anything illegal.”

  “Did you forget what she gave us when we visited this morning?” he asked. The cup, filled with the tar-like substance, was sitting under the opposite bench.

  “It’s just treacle,” she said.

  “But she sold it to us as something to induce miscarriage. We can either charge her with that or if it does turn out to be harmless, charge her with larceny, or obtaining monies by false representation.”

  “Some constable I am.” She sounded defeated.

  “You’re Acting Constable,” he reminded her. “And it is only your first day.” He took the constable’s tipstaff from his pocket and handed it to her. “And now it’s official.”

  She smiled and took the tipstaff, running her fingers over the crown which was carved into the end. As well as being a badge of office, it was supposed to be used for defence as well, but she doubted she would have to fight anyone.

  “So what happens to Mrs Murray after I arrest her?” she asked, feeling foolish for not knowing.

  “She’ll be taken to the courthouse and kept in the cells there until I can bind her over for trial, unless she pleads guilty, in which case I’ll send her straight for sentencing.”

  “And what sort of sentence can she expect?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. It depended on what she was charged with, if she pled guilty or not and whether the sentencing judge would listen to his opinion. Although juries were inclined to be lenient these days, theft of goods worth more than 12 pence could be punished by hanging. “What would you like her to get?” he asked.

  “Transportation.” She answered without hesitation. “That way she won’t be able to set up somewhere else and take in other children.”

  He thought that he could manage that, especially if he could get Mrs Murray to plead guilty and willingly accept a sentence of transportation. He just had to make her crime sound far graver than it actually was.

  Damaris’ confidence seemed to be returning and by the time they stopped outside of the house, her anger was back, replacing her distress and giving her strength.

  He helped her down from the carriage and she strode off towards the front door, not even glancing at the children, who hardly seemed to have moved since this morning. As he caught up with her, Damaris had the tipstaff encased in her fist and was pounding the end of it against the door.

  “Wot!” Mrs Murray yelled as she opened the door. She seemed surprised to see them and became defensive. “You again. I don’t do refunds.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I’m not here for a refund, I’m here to arrest you.” Damaris brandished the tipstaff so that she could see the end. “I’m Acting Constable of this parish and you sold us an abortifacient.”

  Mrs Murray blanched but quickly regrouped. “I didn’t sell you nothing of the sort! That was treacle.”

  “I thought so, in which case you are guilty of larceny and obtaining monies by deceptive means.”

  “What the ‘ell is that?”

  “Basically, fraud,” Nathaniel chimed in. “Which is a very serious crime.”

  “I’ll give you your money back. Here, come on.” She turned away but Nathaniel grabbed her wrist.

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  She truly looked terrified now. “But what about my kids? Who will look after them!”

  “Don’t try and tell me that you care about these children,” Damaris sounded full of rage. “They’re starving and have been beaten int
o submission.”

  “But I’m all they have! You can't take me.”

  “I’m the Justice of the Peace for these parts and I can offer you my word; if you plead guilty, I’ll personally make sure that the children are taken care of.” Nathaniel gave the appearance of mediating between the two women.

  “But- I- I- No! I didn’t do nothing wrong!”

  “Your only thought is for yourself, and you expect us to believe that you care for these childrens’ welfare?” Nate sounded incredulous.

  “I do care but… I can't go to jail!”

  “Jail?” Nate chuckled and began to drag Mrs Murray towards his carriage. “You know that transportation is the usual punishment for poaching, and that’s just for taking a game bird or two. What do you think the punishment is for fraud?” The next punishment up from transportation was death. Although she most likely wouldn’t be hung for such petty theft charges, there were still 220 crimes on the books that were punishable by death, including theft.

  “No, wait, please! I’ll do anything, just don’t let them hang me.”

  Nate stopped dragging her and turned towards her.

  “This is the only time I will make you this offer. Admit your guilt in trying to defraud us by selling a fake abortifacient, and we will make sure that transportation is the only punishment that you suffer.”

  Mrs Murray twisted her head to look back at her small house. It was shabby but Nathaniel realised that it was still her home, and she knew that admitting her guilt would mean that she would never see it again. She seemed to be a pragmatist however, and it was better to make a new life in the colonies than to be hanged. She probably wasn’t exactly sure what fraud, larceny and obtaining monies by deception was, but they sounded very serious to her uneducated ear.

  “All right.” She bowed her head in defeat. “I sold you two a fake potion, telling you that it induced miscarriage.”

  “And how many other women did you do this to?”

  “I don’t know. A few, maybe.”

  “Perhaps I should have mentioned it before, but lying will negate the deal.” His eyes were blazing and he felt as angry as Damaris looked. “We will check every piece of paper in this house and question every woman in Lanford if you don’t tell us the truth right now.”

  “I don’t know!” she cried, terrified that their agreement was about to be broken. “A hundred, maybe two.”

  “Two hundred women?”

  She nodded.

  “And you confess to taking their money, knowing that your potion was ineffective?”

  “Yes.”

  “Come on then.” He took her over to the carriage, although he didn’t have to drag her this time. “Make sure she doesn’t run,” he told the driver, wondering why he hadn’t thought to collect Smyth’s manacles as well as his tipstaff. Nevertheless, the driver took Mrs Murray’s arm and held tight, while Nate returned to Damaris. She was bent over in front of a child, and speaking so softly that he couldn’t hear her until he got close.

  “…nice clothes, plenty of water and best of all, three decent meals a day. What do you say?”

  The child in question, who looked to be about four, didn’t say anything. It could have been a girl or a boy under all that grime, he just couldn’t tell.

  “I promise that no one will ever beat or starve you again.”

  Still the child didn’t move and wouldn’t even make eye contact.

  Damaris moved to the next child but before she could speak, Nate put two fingers in his mouth and issued a loud whistle.

  “Listen closely,” he called across the yard. “If you have any personal possessions, pack them now. You have five minutes, then I expect you all back here and ready to go.”

  They did as they had been ordered and made their way into the house.

  “You shouldn’t have yelled at them,” Damaris chided. “They’re just children.”

  “I know, but I didn’t chastise them, I simply got things moving faster.”

  She still didn’t like his words and it showed in her expression.

  “They’re going to a better place,” he said. “I’m not going to apologise for using a tactic that they are used to, in order to get them there faster.”

  She frowned, knowing that’s she couldn’t argue with that logic.

  Less than three minutes later, the children stood before them, their meagre possessions wrapped in dirty clothes or handkerchiefs.

  “Is that everyone?” Damaris asked the closest child, who nodded.

  There were nine children in all and given that his carriage was pulled by two horses, he felt that they could bear the additional load, just.

  “Right,” Nate announced in an authoritative voice. “Climb onto the carriage; sit on the roof or cling to the side, just don’t let go.”

  The children did as he said and he pulled Mrs Murray into the carriage with him and Damaris, then they headed back to the courthouse.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The courthouse and town hall were next to each other and each building could be accessed through a door in the basement. Lanford didn’t have its own jail but there was one ten miles away that housed prisoners and as such, the cells in the courthouse were only for temporary use, to house prisoners who were on trial, or allow a rowdy drunk to sleep off his intoxication.

  The guard who protected both buildings overnight would keep an eye on any prisoners housed there.

  The closest jail for female prisoners was in London, although it was rare to have a woman charged with any serious crime.

  Nathaniel wasn’t going to transfer her to the main prison while she waited trial however, because he didn’t want anyone to let her know that the offences she was charged with, were weren’t likely to result in a death sentence. Perhaps it wasn’t ethical of him but considering what she had done to those children, he did consider transportation to be a just punishment.

  Damaris agreed with him and was happy to leave Mrs Murray here until she rotted. Once she was booked in, they walked out of the basement, heading for the carriage at the rear of the building.

  “What should we do with the children?” she asked, having given it some thought but not come up with a viable solution.

  “I don’t know.”

  “We could take them home I suppose, until we can arrange something more permanent. You have plenty of bedrooms.”

  Nathaniel looked hesitant.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I just… won’t they be uncomfortable in my home?”

  “You find your home uncomfortable?” she asked, sounding surprised.

  “Me? No. No I don’t mean that my home is inhospitable at all, but these children are dirt poor. They’re used to having nothing, probably not even a bed. In a grand house such as mine, they would likely be terrified to move, lest they break anything.”

  She looked thoughtful. “Well the servants’ rooms are more basic but obviously, occupied.”

  “What about the servants’ quarters in your father’s house?” he asked.

  “Only one room is occupied so there should be room, although some would have to share, but I can't ask Mr and Mrs Higgins to look after nine children, they could barely manage the extra duties involved in looking after me.”

  “Then we’ll hire people to help,” he said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

  “Who? And where will we find them?”

  “Have you not taken on new staff since your husband died?”

  “No,” She shook her head. “Well, probably but I leave that to the housekeeper, butler and steward.”

  “You take no part in it?”

  “I didn’t take much interest in anything related to my estate until recently,” she admitted.

  “Don’t worry, we will soon find some women in need of the work; two should suffice.”

  “But where will we find them?”

  He gave her an easy smile. “We will ask people.”

  “What people?” she was growing frustra
ted by how lightly he was taking this. She couldn’t burden Mr and Mrs Higgins with the care of nine children, not even for one night, and his glib promises weren’t easing her mind.

  “Come,” he said, changing direction so they were heading to the front of the building and stopping by the front clerk’s desk. “Mr Ogden, isn’t it?” he asked the young man.

  “Yes, Sir. How can I help you?” He couldn’t have been much older than 20 and although he must be educated to be a clerk, still seemed quite young.

  “I was wondering if you knew of any women who might be interested in a few week’s work? They would be caring for children, so one of them must have experience in caring for youngsters and one must be able to cook.”

  “My sister needs work, she was laid off by the cotton mill last week.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “She was a fettler and got too big to dive under the machinery.”

  “They didn’t move her somewhere else?”

  “He could of but Old Man Hollis likes his workers young, so he can pay ‘em less. “

  “But she’s a good worker?”

  “The best.”

  “How old?”

  “Fourteen, Sir.”

  He gave the man Charles Howard’s address. “Send a message and have her meet us there as soon as she is able. Tell her to bring a reliable friend as well, if she has one.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Damaris looked slightly surprised as they walked back towards the rear exit.

  “Ask and you shall receive,” he said, clearly pleased with himself.

  “Well, you can and you receive. I doubt I’d have received the same reaction.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “People don’t like me,” she answered, as if it was obvious.

  “I like you.”

  “You are the exception.”

  “My whole family likes you.”

  “They are polite and friendly, but I think it is more a case of good breeding than genuine affection.”

  He stopped and caught Damaris’ arm so that she had to stop too.

  “I understand that you were raised mostly by people who didn’t like you, but not everyone is like your mother. Most of us are more like your father, we can see that you’re special.”