by Cathy Sharp
‘I give you my word I shall do all I may to protect you and to rescue your child,’ Toby promised and lifted her hands to kiss them tenderly. ‘Hetty is anxious for Arthur and she also fears Master Brent may return to the workhouse and do harm which is why I am sending her Hobbs. I cannot protect you here at the inn and I would feel happier if I knew you were with Hetty.’
‘You are so kind to me,’ Meg said and smiled sadly.
Toby’s heart contracted. He knew that his love for her might never be fully returned, because she had suffered too harshly at the hands of other men. She was willing to trust him and do as he advised and for the moment it was all that he could expect. Toby had never felt this way about a woman before. He felt exulted and vulnerable at the same time, because his love made him fear that he might lose her even though it might not be possible for her to ever love him as he loved her.
Meg had recovered her physical health. She still could not walk long distances or sit up late in the evenings, but she was growing stronger. It was her mental suffering and her low spirits which made her look so sad sometimes. Toby feared that if he could not return her babe to her she might never be truly at peace again.
Meg watched as the young man rode away. Toby Rattan had promised to protect and care for her and she did not know what else she could do but accept his kindness.
‘I could never go to my father’s home near Winchester,’ Meg told Hetty as they sat together after Toby had ridden away. ‘My father would send me back to my husband and I hate him. I would rather die than return to his house.’
‘Arthur and Mr Rattan are good men,’ Hetty said and looked sympathetically at her. ‘I know they will help you – and they would never force you to do something you did not wish to do …’
‘Thank you,’ Meg said and smiled. ‘Everything is all so vague after I was attacked by vagabonds but I know that I was very unhappy …’
If only Toby could find her child and bring her back to her! She hated the man who had sired her babe but she loved and wanted the child. She needed something to love and cling to for she felt lost and alone. Mr Stoneham had saved her life and his friend had shown her more kindness than she’d ever known, but Meg was not sure if she could ever love a man. It was her babe she wanted, a warm armful that she could nurse and tend – and only if she held the child again could she hope to find some kind of happiness. For the moment she must do as Toby had requested and return to the workhouse.
‘Please come back soon,’ she whispered when his horses carried him out of sight and she could no longer see his curricle. ‘Please bring my baby back to me …’
Hetty was pleased that Toby had sent his groom with Meg to watch over them. While she had no fear for herself, she knew that any one of the inmates might be at risk, as might Meg if she had stayed at the inn alone. Only Marta and Aggie had spoken out and given her information about what had gone on here, but others might know things – and if Master Brent feared that knowledge they might not be safe.
‘Toby says that he will try to discover why Mr Stoneham tarries so long in Newmarket,’ Meg said as they drank a pot of tea together later that morning. ‘I daresay he has business for he seemed a busy and clever man to me.’
‘Yes, he is,’ Hetty agreed. ‘He keeps his emotions in check but you must not think him cold or unfeeling, Meg. I know he is as concerned for you as the Honourable Toby Rattan but—’
‘Toby is the son of a lord?’ Meg stared at her.
‘The younger son, yes, but he does not regard it. You did not know?’
‘No, he said nothing of it.’ Meg shook her head but looked thoughtful. ‘I thought him just a friend of Mr Stoneham – he seemed to look up to his friend.’
Hetty smiled, a look of love in her eyes as she spoke of the man she had loved for so long. ‘Arthur Stoneham is a forceful man, but do not underestimate Toby. He led a campaign to end injustice towards children who were being abused and has been instrumental in provoking much debate in the House of Lords by persuading his father to speak out for the poor. If there are changes in the laws concerning the wellbeing of young children, he will have played his part …’
‘I see …’ Meg looked thoughtful but said no more.
‘I am glad you have come,’ Hetty told her as she showed her the room she was to use. ‘This belonged to Mistress Brent but it has been cleaned and aired and all her things have been removed.’
Meg looked about her. The room was plainly furnished like all the others in the workhouse, but it was so much better than sleeping rough as she had often been forced to after her flight from her cruel husband.
‘It will do very well, thank you.’ She paused, then, ‘You return to London when Lady Rowntree has appointed a new mistress and master here?’
‘Yes, and shall be glad to do so – though I know all is well cared for in my absence. But London is my home and I came here only to please Arthur.’
‘You are fond of him, are you not?’ Meg looked at her curiously.
Hetty smiled. ‘He is my dearest friend and I should not know what to do if he were lost.’
‘You do not suspect foul play?’
‘Who knows?’ Hetty frowned for he had been many days on the road, longer than she might have expected, and should surely have returned or sent word by now. She worried that some mischief had befallen him and yet knew that he was prepared for he always went armed when he travelled England’s lonely roads. ‘Arthur does not suffer fools gladly. He might have enemies anywhere.’ Hetty hesitated. ‘I told Toby that I sensed something, but perhaps it was just foolishness. Arthur is a strong man and alert … perhaps I worry for nothing, as Toby told me.’
‘I fear I am the same,’ Meg said and smiled. ‘I am anxious for news of my child – but I should not want Toby harmed because of me.’
‘I doubt it will happen,’ Hetty said. ‘Both of them carry pistols and they are strong men.’
‘Toby left his groom here to guard us,’ Meg said and again she looked anxious. ‘But Mr Stoneham has his groom with him so I am certain no harm could come to him,’ she said and sighed.
‘I am not sure what other business holds Arthur here, though he spoke of another child he had concerns for.’ Hetty frowned and looked thoughtful.
‘I think he may have meant Bella,’ Meg said with a frown. ‘She was kind to me when I lay grieving, believing my child dead. It was Bella who first told me that the babe lived and I think Mistress Brent sold her to the chain-maker because she dared to help me. I have wondered how she is and whether she is well-treated.’
‘Arthur would not leave a child to suffer if he knew of it,’ Hetty said confidently. ‘Bella you said her name was?’ Meg nodded. ‘Perhaps I should send someone to the village to inquire for her.’ Hetty was uncertain what to do for the best. Arthur had clearly been detained and if a child was in danger, she ought to do what she could to help her …
Annie had been buried in the churchyard after several villagers had crowded into the church to pray for her soul. Afterwards, some attempted to offer condolences to Karl but he brushed them aside angrily and invited no one to return to his home for food or drink, though Annie’s father accompanied him. Neither of them spoke much and the atmosphere was tense, as if each man resented the other. For the first time Bella thought she understood why Annie had married; her father was not a man to accept her refusal and it must have seemed an escape to the poor girl until she discovered that her husband was even more of a bully than her father.
Bella thought Annie’s father, Archie Rush, a morose man; he looked at her with sullen eyes, never speaking a word of thanks. She offered him some of the beer Karl had provided, seed cake and fresh-baked rolls filled with cheese and pickles. He took the beer but refused the food, glaring at her.
‘Workhouse brat! Karl should flay the skin from your back – neglecting my Annie and the babe. Had you done yer job, I swear Annie would still be alive.’
Bella would have protested her innocence but knew that Annie’
s father had been drinking before he came to the funeral and would take no notice of her. He punched her arm spitefully more than once as she replenished the men’s beer and filled plates. Karl and his sons ate everything she had prepared and looked for more.
‘I have another daughter,’ Annie’s father announced suddenly. ‘Peg is not a beauty but she cooks better than this brat – and she has good child-bearing hips.’ He looked expectantly at Karl, as if hoping he would ask for the second daughter.
‘I shall not take another wife,’ Karl muttered and wiped the froth of beer with the back of his hand. ‘They die too easily and complain too much. And I have a son.’
‘I’ll take her!’ The elder of his nephews spoke up, his eyes bright with too much strong drink. ‘She’ll look the same as other women in the dark – and we need someone to look after us properly.’ He glared at Bella. ‘The workhouse brat is not much good to us. She can scrub and clean but she’s no cook.’
Bella turned away resentfully. She had done her best, but there was so much to do and sometimes the bread burned on the crust or the stew was cooked too fast and the meat was tough.
‘You should put her to work in the forge, as was intended,’ he muttered looking at his uncle in anger. ‘I’ll marry Archie’s daughter Peg – and she’ll cook and clean fer us.’
‘Do you not want her to cook fer yer?’ Karl asked Annie’s father.
‘I’m thinking of takin’ a wife,’ Archie Rush said and looked sly. ‘She’s a widow with a bit of a nest egg – and she cooks all the food I like. She also has a daughter who cleans and sews and I’ll not want Peg about the place once I’ve got me new wife.’
Bella turned away in disgust. Annie’s father had not come here to mourn her but to bargain away his younger daughter. Peg was to be turned out of her home so that he could take a wife – and it mattered not what she felt about the man she would marry. She would be as miserable, as Annie had been. One thing was certain, though; Bella would have to leave. Karl tolerated her but his nephews did not – and she could see by the speculation in her master’s eyes that he was considering whether he should take Archie’s advice and put her to the chain-making.
She would run away the next day, Bella decided. She had stayed out of respect for Annie, but now that she was buried and prayed for there was no reason for Bella to stay. The younger of Karl’s nephews was staring at her and she remembered that he had made strange remarks concerning her when she first came to the house. Now that his brother was to marry would he consider Bella fair prey?
A shiver ran down her spine. The doctor had told her to run after Annie died but Bella feared life on the run nearly as much as she feared her master and his nephews. If she had somewhere to go she would leave tonight – but Mistress Brent would beat her and send her back if she tried to return to the workhouse. She had to find work for herself – but as far away from this place as was possible. More than anything Bella feared a return to the workhouse where she’d been so ill-treated and thought she would rather starve in the fields than be at the mercy of someone like Mistress Brent …
Meg joined the other women in the sewing room at the workhouse. There was always mending to do. She would have preferred embroidery, but now that Florrie was living in Lady Rowntree’s house, she did not send work here.
‘Does anyone know how Bella gets on?’ Meg asked the other inmates and they all shook their heads.
‘If she was put to the chain-making she won’t last long,’ Marta said and shook her head. ‘’Tis a pity. I liked Bella – she was always helpful and kind, even though the mistress was unkind to her.’
‘Her mother was a lady,’ Aggie said and for a moment her eyes were clear as she remembered. ‘The mistress treated the child ill her whole life …’ Aggie shook her head. ‘She ought by rights to die in agony for what she did to little Bella.’
They all looked at her, because no one else had lived here this long and they were not sure that Aggie truly remembered. Was this true or just a story she had conjured up from her imagination?
‘Did Bella’s mother not die in the fields?’ Marta asked.
‘Aye, of the fever after she’d left her babe at the church,’ Aggie said. ‘She came here when she was near her time and asked to be admitted but mistress would not take her in. I gave her a bit of bread and a cup of milk and she asked me if I’d seen her sister and she begged me to tell Katharine that she was close to her time, but I knew not who Katharine was or where …’
‘I knew nothing of this tale,’ Marta said and frowned. ‘Mistress Hetty will wish to know of this.’
Aggie nodded and smiled a secret smile. ‘I told her another secret. I know lots of secrets …’ Her smile faded and the look in her blue eyes became uncertain. ‘I cannot always recall them …’ She let her head drop, her eyes closing, as if the effort to remember had been too much for her.
‘You should not worry,’ Marta said, but made a mental note to tell Hetty of Bella’s mother’s dying wish. ‘I am more concerned for how Bella fares now. Someone should go to the village and ask for her.’ She thought that she would speak to Hetty as soon as possible and ask her if she would go.
‘I will make inquiries,’ Hetty promised. ‘In the morning I shall walk to the village and inquire for Bella. If she is unhappy I will offer a home here – or with me in London.’
‘Thank you,’ Marta said gratefully. ‘I ought to have spoken sooner – Florrie would have, but she is not here and I was uncertain what to do.’
Hetty smiled at Marta. ‘I meant it when I told you to speak your mind to me – and if you fear to stay here, I can offer you a bed at my house in London.’
‘You could not take all of us,’ Marta said and looked over her shoulder. ‘I have friends here – and the poor children. What is going to happen to us? When the new master and mistress come, will they be as fair and kind as you? No one likes being here – ’tis haunted by the spirit of those unhappy children he murdered.’
‘I am not in a position to choose the new master and mistress,’ Hetty said. ‘Lady Rowntree is the patron here. She and her husband chose the last master and mistress. I can only hope that she chooses more wisely this time.’
‘It would be better this place should be closed than another such couple come to plague us,’ Marta said and then hung her head. ‘I am not ungrateful, mistress. I know what you and Mr Stoneham have done here – but I fear for the future.’
‘Yes, I understand that, Marta, and I promise that I shall do all I can to influence her ladyship towards a good choice – but I have little say in what happens when I leave.’
‘I know …’ Marta looked tearful. ‘I do miss Florrie. She is happy where she is but this will be a lonely place when you and Meg leave, Mistress Hetty. I fear the future.’
Hetty sighed, feeling saddened by the woman’s fear and unhappiness. The workhouse was where Marta must end her days unless she accepted Hetty’s offer to live with her in Arthur’s house in London – but she knew that Marta could not desert all those others, like Aggie who was too old to move.
‘You must trust Arthur,’ Hetty said. ‘I know that he will do everything in his power to make this a safe place for you and the children.’
‘Can any of them ever sleep in peace, knowing that some of their friends and predecessors were buried in the garden? It has given those who understand nightmares. I have heard them crying and calling out in their sleep.’
‘Yes, I imagine it might give them bad dreams.’ Hetty was thoughtful. She found it difficult to pass the spot where the bodies had been buried, so how much worse was it for the children? Perhaps Marta was right and this place should be closed and left to rot. There were fifteen children here and five elderly men, also seven women: twenty-seven people who would need a home if this place was closed. It would be a big ask of Arthur to find places for all of them, for she herself could only take two women and one child. Yet if the children were having disturbed dreams, something must be done.
As th
e day passed without Arthur’s return, she began to feel uneasy. Without Arthur she could offer no hope to any of these folk – and those in London would also be at risk. He was needed by so many people and she did not think he truly understood how much difference he made to the lives of others.
‘Arthur, where are you?’ she asked aloud. ‘I need you – we all need you. I pray you will put your grief aside and return to us …’
CHAPTER 14
Bella took only a woollen shawl Annie had given her and the dress she had worn when she left the workhouse. She had baked the bread fresh before her master went to work and made a spare loaf for herself. Wrapping that in her shawl with a stone bottle of water, she slipped out of the back door and into the lane, closing the door behind her.
She knew that the loaf and the small piece of cheese she took with her would be called theft and if she was caught she would be punished severely. She thought it might also be a crime to run away from the master who had paid for her, but she dared not stay longer. She had seen the glint in her master’s eyes and knew that he would use her ill – either at his workshops or elsewhere. His nephews were cruel and thoughtless, but her master was worse when he was angry. He had killed Annie by his brutality and Bella knew if she stayed he would turn on her. If he did not work her to death making chains, he would beat her – or perhaps worse. Bella had learned more of life since she came to this house for Annie had spoken freely of what she suffered at her husband’s hands.
As yet Bella was too young for him to use her as a woman, but when she was older … Bella shivered. She’d seen something in his eyes when Annie’s father had spoken of his other daughter. Archie was marrying a woman fifteen years younger and Karl would not hesitate to do the same if he chose – though he might simply take the woman he wanted to his bed and not bother to wed her.
Bella left her master’s cottage, heading away from the village because if anyone saw her and told Karl, he would follow and drag her back. She had no idea where she was going; she just knew that she had to get far away from this accursed place before Karl realised she’d gone.
