by Dilly Court
‘Has she any hair?’ Mrs Diment added eagerly. ‘Is it fair or dark?’
Parkin had been sitting at the table, getting on with his meal, but at this he raised his head. ‘Will you women please stop prattling on about an infant? They all look the same – like wizened monkeys. I don’t know what the fuss is about. She’s just another mouth to feed.’
Mrs Trevett’s lips worked in a soundless protest and Mrs Diment pointed her knife at Parkin. ‘That’s a wicked thing to say, Mr Parkin. All babies are a gift from God.’
‘Not all of them,’ Daniel whispered in Charity’s ear.
Mrs Diment shot him a suspicious glance. ‘I’m sure that Nanny would have told you that it’s rude to whisper, Master Daniel.’
He smiled and nodded. ‘Quite right, Mrs Diment. But I’ll reach my majority very soon and I left the nursery a long time ago.’
Mrs Diment flushed uncomfortably and Parkin made a noise in his throat that sounded suspiciously like ‘Hear! Hear!’
Mrs Trevett opened her mouth as if to remonstrate but the sudden appearance of Tapper cut short any remarks that she might have made. She rose to her feet. ‘Whatever’s the matter, Tapper? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.’
He dragged his cap off his head and clutched it to his chest. ‘Not a ghost, Mrs Trevett. Mr and Mrs Barton have just arrived. I saw them getting out of their carriage as I crossed the yard.’
As he spoke the bell marked Front door jangled noisily on its spring and Parkin rose stiffly to his feet. He hobbled out of the kitchen, mumbling beneath his breath. Daniel pushed his plate away and stood up. ‘I’d better go and greet them.’
‘And I’d better go home and check on Vi and the baby.’ Charity stood up, leaving half her meal untouched.
‘Don’t run away,’ Daniel said, smiling. ‘I think it’s time you met my mother.’
‘No, really it’s not a good idea,’ Charity protested. ‘I mean, they’ve only just arrived and they’ll be tired after their journey from Devonshire. Perhaps another time.’
Daniel caught her by the hand. ‘If I allow you to go now you’ll find excuse after excuse for keeping away.’
‘Go on, dear,’ Mrs Diment said in a low voice. ‘You’ll have to face her one day so it might as well be now.’
Charity could see that she was outnumbered, but a quick introduction should be enough to satisfy Daniel, and then she could make her escape. She followed him through the corridors to the entrance hall where a liveried footman was staggering beneath the weight of several heavy suitcases, portmanteaux and bandboxes. The double doors were open and she could see Wilmot outside on the carriage sweep giving instructions to his coachman.
‘Mama, how lovely to see you.’ Daniel embraced his mother, receiving a look of overt disapproval in return.
Myrtle Barton straightened her perky little hat, which was embellished with a ridiculously large ostrich feather. ‘Don’t be so boisterous, Daniel. A kiss on the hand would have sufficed.’ She flicked a casual glance at Charity who was hovering in the background. ‘You may take the bandboxes up to my room and start unpacking, girl. My maid is travelling behind with the rest of our luggage.’
‘Charity is not a servant, Mama,’ Daniel said, blushing to the roots of his hair.
‘That’s exactly what I am, ma’am.’ Charity bobbed a curtsey, keeping her gaze lowered. ‘I am in Mr Bligh’s employ, but not as a maid. I work in the library, cataloguing the collection of books.’
‘A servant is a servant. Do as I bid and don’t answer back.’ Myrtle turned her supercilious gaze upon her son. ‘I can see that we arrived not a moment too soon. You have a lot to learn, Daniel.’
He bowed his head. ‘But, Mama, you don’t quite understand . . .’
‘Nonsense. Anyone can see that you’ve allowed the servants too much leeway. From now on things will change.’ She pointed to the pile of candy-striped hat boxes. ‘Take those upstairs first, girl.’
Charity eyed her with a sinking heart. She knew instinctively that this person would never accept her as one of the family. Myrtle Barton was a handsome woman, and must have been a beauty in her youth. Her golden hair was as yet untouched by strands of silver and her fine skin glowed with health. Her large blue eyes were undoubtedly her most arresting feature, fringed with impossibly long dark lashes, and if the downward turn of her well-shaped mouth gave her a petulant expression, it vanished the moment she smiled, which she did when Wilmot strode into the building. She held her hands out to him. ‘I’m just going to my room, darling. Will you send Brown to me the moment she arrives? In the meantime I’ll have to make do with this girl.’
Wilmot barely glanced at Charity, who had backed into the shadows and kept her head down. ‘Yes, of course, my love. Go upstairs and rest.’ He slapped Daniel on the back. ‘Good news travels fast, boy. The Bligh Park treasure has turned up at last.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Daniel said, holding out his hand to Charity. ‘Thanks to my good friend.’
She sent him a warning look, shaking her head, but it was obvious that Wilmot was not listening. He was gazing round the oak-panelled entrance hall with a satisfied smile. ‘We’ll invest some of the money in renovating this old pile. I’ll have plans made up and we’ll agree them together, although I’m sure that your dear mama will have ideas of her own.’
Myrtle inclined her head graciously. ‘Of course I will. A woman’s touch is what is needed here, and always has been. Hedley hated change and refused to allow me to touch a thing, but now we’ll transform Bligh Park into the magnificent dwelling it was meant to be.’ She beckoned to Charity. ‘Why are you loitering there, girl? I told you to take my bandboxes to my room.’
‘Charity isn’t a housemaid, Mama,’ Daniel said firmly. ‘I’ll instruct Mrs Diment to have your room made ready, and Parkin will bring some refreshments if you would like to wait in the drawing room.’
‘Charity?’ Wilmot spun round, his expression darkening as he recognised her. ‘What in hell’s name are you doing here?’
Daniel stepped in between them. ‘Charity is here at our invitation, Wilmot.’
‘You and who else?’ Wilmot demanded suspiciously.
‘Harry, of course. He is the master here now, not I.’
‘Harry?’ Myrtle swayed on her feet. ‘But Harry was hounded from the country by his creditors. Surely he hasn’t been foolish enough to return?’
Wilmot put his arm around her. ‘Don’t upset yourself, my love.’ He glared at Daniel. ‘Are you a complete idiot? Do you want to inherit or do you want to see everything frittered away by your brother?’
‘Harry is the rightful heir to the baronetcy and the estate.’
Wilmot fixed Charity with a stern look. ‘You’re at the bottom of this. You were trouble from the first.’
‘What is going on?’ Myrtle demanded. ‘Who is this girl who looks like a skivvy and talks as if she were mistress of the house?’
‘She’s the woman that my brother loves and wants to marry.’ Daniel nodded to Charity. ‘Tell them.’
‘You needn’t worry, ma’am,’ Charity said firmly. ‘I know that I’m not good enough for your son, and I rejected his offer.’
Myrtle moved away from her husband’s sheltering arm. ‘I don’t care who you are, maidservant or not, you will come upstairs with me. I want to get to the bottom of this.’ She turned on Wilmot with narrowed eyes. ‘I’ll deal with you later. You’ve been keeping things from me and I won’t have it.’
‘Mama, please leave Charity alone.’ Daniel took a step towards his mother, but she stopped him with a single movement of a dainty hand.
‘Keep out of this, Daniel.’
‘None of this is her fault and she did refuse Harry; I can vouch for that. We wouldn’t have found the silver bullion if it hadn’t have been for Charity’s sharp eyes.’
‘No doubt fuelled by self-interest.’ Myrtle turned her head to give Charity a calculating look. ‘Perhaps we will go to the drawing room after all.’
‘I’ll come too,’ Wilmot said hastily. ‘She’ll tell you a pack of lies.’
‘Have you something to hide?’ Myrtle’s tone was scathing, and, for once, Wilmot seemed at a loss for words. He strode out of the house, shouting instructions at the footman.
Myrtle rounded on Daniel. ‘Make yourself useful and tell Mrs Trevett to send a tray of tea and cake to the drawing room. I’ll speak to you on your own after I’ve dealt with this little fortune hunter.’
‘This is most unfair, Mama,’ Daniel protested, but his mother had marched off in the direction of the drawing room.
‘I can look after myself,’ Charity said stoutly. ‘Don’t worry about me, Dan.’
Myrtle threw herself down on one of the threadbare sofas, where Bosun’s doggy smell still lingered and his hairs were intertwined forever within the fabric. She looked around the room with obvious distaste. ‘My former husband had no idea when it came to elegant living.’ She stared at Charity with raised eyebrows. ‘Do you really think that a maidservant could raise herself to the position of Lady Bligh? You can forget any ideas you may have harboured about marrying my son and becoming mistress of Bligh Park. I won’t allow that to happen.’
‘I never had any aspirations beyond my station in life, Mrs Barton. I didn’t want to fall in love with Harry, but I couldn’t help myself.’
Myrtle curled her lip. ‘Really? I’m afraid I don’t believe you. I want you to be gone from this house before nightfall, and I want you to promise to keep away from both my sons in future.’
‘If you think that I’ll stand by and see you and that hateful man you married, cheat Harry out of his inheritance and make Dan’s life a misery, you’re quite wrong.’
‘Nobly said, but impossible to accomplish.’ Myrtle leaned back against the odd assortment of cushions. ‘Daniel doesn’t come of age for almost two months, and I wouldn’t want Harry to inherit a single penny because he will only gamble it away. Harry takes after his father, but Daniel is more malleable and sensitive. He will be guided by us and this estate will recover from years of mismanagement and neglect.’
‘I think you’ve underestimated both your sons, Mrs Barton,’ Charity said calmly. ‘They are grown men with minds of their own, and you’ve married a devious man who will take everything from you.’ She held up her hand as Myrtle opened her mouth to protest. ‘I’ve had my say and now I’m leaving. You won’t be bothered by me again.’ She swept out of the room, almost bumping into Parkin who was carrying a tea tray.
She managed to avoid Wilmot who was in the entrance hall, directing the servants who had just arrived with the rest of the Bartons’ baggage. It looked to Charity as though the couple planned a long stay, which made it even more important to find Harry and warn him of their intentions.
She found Daniel in the study with a glass of Madeira in his hand. ‘That won’t solve anything,’ she said crossly. ‘You have to stand up to them, Dan.’
‘I’ve tried,’ he said, taking another sip of wine. ‘But you can see what my mother is like, and backed by Wilmot she is truly formidable.’
‘Only because you still allow her to treat you like a child. In two months’ time you’ll be of age and neither of them can tell you what to do. Can’t you see that they’re desperate to gain control of Bligh Park and the estate, as well as Nevill’s Court? Even if they managed to discredit Harry to such an extent that his inheritance was lost to him, do you really think that they would treat you more fairly?’
‘I don’t care about the land or the houses. You know what I want, Charity.’
‘I’m going to London to find Harry, and tell him what’s going on behind his back.’
‘I’m coming with you.’
She shook her head. ‘That’s not a good idea. If you do that Wilmot will follow us and make things difficult. You must stay here, and if you can’t face up to them then you must use delaying tactics. Think of Egypt and what it will be like to join Flinders Petrie’s expedition. You could have all that, but only if you refuse to allow your mother and Wilmot to bully you.’
Daniel frowned thoughtfully. ‘Harry took most of the ingots to London. Wilmot won’t be able to get his hands on the money.’
‘There, you see. That will be your best defence.’ She hesitated. ‘I’ll need money to get me to London and I haven’t any.’
‘I can give you as much as you need.’
‘There’s just one other thing.’ She treated him to a persuasive smile. ‘Will you keep an eye on Violet and Dorrie for me? If Mrs Diment could go and stay there while I’m away it would put my mind at rest.’
‘I’m sure she’d be delighted.’ Daniel drained his drink and stood up. ‘When do you want to leave?’
‘I’d like to make sure that the girls are all right before I go. Perhaps Tapper could drive me to the railway station first thing tomorrow morning?’
Chapter Twenty-Three
THE HOUSE IN Nevill’s Court was shuttered and silent. At first she thought that Jackson was not at home, but then one of the neighbours, Miss Lettice Creedy, an elderly spinster whose house was home to dozens of stray and feral cats, put her head over the garden fence to inform her that she had seen Mr Jackson not half an hour earlier, and he had given her two eggs, which she planned to boil for her supper.
Charity was about to go round to the back of the house and see if Jackson was in the yard when the door opened. His stony face registered neither surprise nor pleasure. ‘Miss Charity. Come in.’
‘See!’ Miss Creedy mewed with satisfaction. ‘I told you he wasn’t far away. Thank you for the eggs, Mr Jackson.’ She was still thanking him when he closed the door.
‘You have an admirer,’ Charity said, chuckling.
‘Her and her bloody cats.’ Jackson peered out of the window. ‘I daresn’t let Bosun out at night in case them kitties are on the prowl.’ At the sound of his master’s voice Bosun appeared as if from nowhere, almost knocking Charity over with an enthusiastic greeting.
‘Bosun wouldn’t harm a fly,’ she said, patting the dog’s great head.
‘I ain’t worried about him. Them cats is like wild animals. Bosun come in one night bleeding from scratches on his nose and close to his eyes. I can’t abide cats.’
Charity put her bag down at the foot of the stairs. ‘I was hoping that Master Harry might be staying here, Jackson. Have you seen him recently?’
Jackson’s surprised expression was answer enough. He shook his shaggy head. ‘No, miss.’
She had been pinning her hopes on the fact that Harry might not have anywhere else to stay, but perhaps he had found the house locked and assumed that everyone had left. It was a disappointment, but she would find him. She realised that Jackson was staring at her. ‘What’s the matter, Mr Jackson?’
‘I got nothing for our dinner, miss. The money ran out some time ago and me sister’s been feeding me and Bosun when we visit her in Hoxton. It’s lucky you arrived when you did because we was about to set off.’ He glanced down at the dog who was looking up at him with adoration in his large brown eyes. ‘Wasn’t we, old man? Us is good pals, ain’t we, mate?’
Bosun wagged his tail in answer and his pink tongue lolled out of his mouth as he waited for his master to give him instructions.
‘I’ve brought money,’ Charity said hastily. ‘I can give you your back wages and tomorrow I’ll go to market and get provisions.’ She met his anxious gaze with a smile. ‘If your sister won’t mind, perhaps you’d care to share a dinner with me at a chop house? I haven’t eaten since I left Bligh Park this morning.’
Jackson’s deep-set eyes twinkled appreciatively. ‘I’m sure she won’t mind, miss. She’s got ten nippers to feed and a husband who labours in the Gaslight and Coke Company all hours of the day and night.’
‘I’ll take my bag up to my old room and tidy up, and then we’ll go.’ She went upstairs, grimacing at the layer of dust that lay everywhere like a fluffy grey blanket. Mrs Diment would have a fit, she thought, as she trailed her f
ingers along the balustrade.
The room she had shared with Violet and Dorrie was stuffy in the heat of the late afternoon and flies buzzed lazily against the windowpanes. She opened one of the sashes and allowed them to fly free. A cool breeze floated in, bringing with it the all too familiar noxious city smells that she had happily forgotten during her stay in the country. She took off her bonnet and brushed her hair, tying it back with a length of blue ribbon that Dorrie had left on the dressing table. A quick look in the fly-spotted mirror revealed smuts on her nose and cheeks and she wiped them away with a clean hanky. Satisfied that she looked reasonably presentable, if a little travel-stained, she went downstairs to find Jackson seated by the range, smoking a clay pipe. He leapt to his feet, knocking the remains of the tobacco into the fire. ‘I’m sorry, miss. I ain’t allowed to smoke indoors, but I got used to it in Mrs Diment’s absence.’
‘That’s quite all right, Mr Jackson. I don’t mind at all. My grandfather smoked cigars in the old days, but he became accustomed to smoking a pipe. It was one of his few comforts in life towards the end.’ She felt tears stinging the backs of her eyes as she recalled her grandfather’s tragic death, but this was not the time to wallow in the past. She must be positive and think of the future. ‘I know a very nice chop house close to the Gaiety Theatre. It’s not too far to walk.’
Jackson picked up his battered bowler hat. ‘I ain’t fit to be seen with a young lady like you.’
‘Nonsense,’ she said firmly. ‘It’s not every day a girl has a chance to be escorted by a fine figure of a man like you, Mr Jackson.’
She could have sworn that he blushed, but he turned away quickly and shambled to the door. ‘After you, miss.’
It came to Charity in the middle of the night. She had assumed that Harry would return to Nevill’s Court, but Jackson had not seen him. Dan had said his brother intended to contact Gideon, and there was a good chance that he might know Harry’s whereabouts. It was so blindingly obvious that she wondered why she had not thought of it sooner, but then she remembered her last encounter with Gideon. Their easy-going relationship would never be the same again after his declaration of love. She lay back against the pillows, smiling ruefully into the darkness. Proposals from two highly eligible bachelors must be the stuff that dreams were made of for some young women, but not for her. It was a cruel blow of fate that had thrown her into the path of two such men; one whom she loved, and the other for whom she had a great fondness, but she was not a fit partner for either of them. She would have to face both Gideon and Harry, and she must see this matter through to the end. After that it was up to her to make a life for herself, Violet, baby Alice and Dorrie. She closed her eyes. Early tomorrow morning she would walk to St Pancras New Church. There must be someone there who could tell her where to find Gideon.
