My Lady Deceiver
FREDA LIGHTFOOT
Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
By Freda Lightfoot
Copyright
My Lady Deceiver
Chapter One
1905
It was the shudder of the ship’s engines slowing to a dull rhythmic beat which gave the weary passengers the first indication that they had survived. Packed as they were in an odorous pit where they’d languished for three long weeks of this perilous voyage, even the sickest traveller roused from their stupor sufficiently to whisper a quiet prayer of thanks.
‘Is it over at last? Are we there?’ they asked each other in stunned disbelief. Shouts were heard overhead, the sounds of men calling out instructions to each other, chains rattling and ropes being flung about.
Glancing into her mother’s pale face, Rose let out a sigh of relief as she hugged her tight. ‘We’ve landed, Mam. We’re in America at last.’ How they had longed for this moment, thinking that it might never come. In the strange, eerie silence that followed when the engines ceased their rumbling at last came the raucous squawk of a lone gull wheeling high above in a blue sky which they, as steerage passengers, could scarcely glimpse.
A great cheer went up and, as one, people began to scramble to their feet, to gather their children about them, to collect their precious belongings which they’d guarded for so long. Rose too set about thrusting bags and bundles into the arms of her siblings. ‘You carry the heaviest bag, Micky. And Mary, you take this smaller one, and mind you keep tight hold of little Clara’s hand. You know what a flibbertigibbet she is. If she doesn’t behave, toss her overboard,’ she said, plonking a kiss on the child’s brow to show she was only teasing. ‘Mam will mind the twins and the bedding, while I carry the rest of our stuff.’
Each person was allowed one piece of luggage or bundle. Choosing what to take with them to their new life might have proved to be a difficult decision, were it not for the fact that they’d had few possessions to begin with. Even so, the little ones couldn’t carry much, so the task was largely left to Micky, Mam and herself.
Rose was already filling her arms with bundles of clothing, hefting the other brown suitcase, her excitement and the breath required to carry out this task such that she succumbed to a sudden fit of coughing.
Annie Belsfield rested a careworn hand on her daughter’s cheek. ‘Take care; that chill is worsening, if anything. We’re not in America yet, girl, and we don’t want no setbacks.’
Rose instantly sobered. They all knew they still had to face the much feared inspection, which would begin the moment they stepped onto Ellis Island.
‘Here, let me take that. It’s too heavy for a slip of a thing like you.’ A familiar voice at her side, and the heavy suitcase was wrested from her grasp.
‘I can manage,’ Rose protested, determined to do her bit. ‘We’re all supposed to carry our own.’
‘But why should you when you’ve me hanging around with nought to do but help?’
She looked up into the young man’s grinning face, round as a moon in the dim light with a smattering of freckles on nose and forehead, and, as her oldest friend, dearly familiar. Stocky and robust with a tousle of red hair, Joe was always at her side when most needed, like an elder brother. Rose trusted him absolutely, so relinquished the precious suitcase into his capable hands, together with some of her hard-won independence and pride.
‘Just don’t start your bossing, all right?’
Joe grinned. ‘If I do boss you at times, it’s only because I know what’s best for you.’
Rose gave him a quelling glance from beneath thick brown lashes, pursing rosy lips tightly against a sharp response, as this wasn’t the moment for one of their squabbles.
At heart she was a rather shy and unassuming girl, despite having lived all of her twenty years in a common lodging house on Fishponds Road in Bristol. Thin and underfed she may be, but also capable and uncomplaining, well used to coping with difficulties, particularly since the death of their father. He’d been in the Rifle Brigade, killed in action in South Africa in the Boer War. Following his death, and with six children to care for, Rose and her mother had grown even closer, but the family had suffered near starvation, dependent as they were upon poor relief.
Then quite out of the blue her mother’s sister had sent them the money to join her in America. It felt like a gift from the gods, the answer to their prayers. They’d needed to pay six pounds and six shillings each for Mam and Rose, half price for each of the remaining five children. Which left them with the barest minimum to begin their new life. They could but hope it would be enough.
Joe, when he’d heard of their plan, had asked to come along as well, since he had no family of his own.
‘How would you manage without me?’ he’d teased, when Rose had expressed surprise over this decision. She’d guessed it was more likely the reverse since she was only too aware that Joe Colbert was sweet on her, which troubled her at times.
The battle over the suitcase turned out to be premature as it was some hours before the steerage passengers were even allowed out on deck. First and second class were naturally given priority, subjected to a superficial medical, and allowed to go on their way without too much hassle. The sick were being taken for a more intense physical examination at the quarantine facility on Staten Island.
Tension mounted, emotions running high by the time they eventually clattered up the stairs to emerge blinking into the bright sunshine, gazing in wonder at this new, much longed-for land. Everyone was dressed in their best clothes, waiting with exemplary patience for their turn to disembark. They shared disturbing stories of those who had failed in their dream and been sent back home, like a faulty parcel. Many filled the long hours by practising what they might say in response to the dreaded questions, testing and advising each other. Others remained grimly silent, clinging on to the ship’s rails and their few belongings with equal tenacity.
Like Rose and her family these people had staked everything they owned on this enterprise. Many had left behind loved ones they might never see again, while gladly turning their backs on poverty, unemployment, congested living conditions and miserable oppression.
In America they hoped for a better future, free education for their children, a free vote, low taxes, high wages, and an end perhaps to religious repression or compulsory military service. Liberty and justice for all. Not to mention a more forgiving climate. But they never stopped speculating on the fear of not achieving that dream, of being turned away at the gate. What might they be asked? they worried. What would be expected of them? It was essential they give the right answers, as well as be in good health.
Rose had succumbed to a chill during the last few days of the journey, coupled with a dry chesty cough that simply wouldn’t budge. Many had suffered worse, falling prey to a mysterious shipboard fever. Far too many children, together with the dreams and hopes of their grieving mothers, had been slipped into the deep blue ocean. Rose had daily sent up a silent prayer that their own fam
ily would remain healthy and strong.
The ship had come to a halt at a pier close to the Brooklyn Bridge. Both the East and the Hudson River appeared to be packed with ships, some lined up on the New Jersey side, the rest anchored by the New York piers.
‘Bringing immigrants to New York must be big business,’ Rose speculated. ‘Disembarking could take hours at this rate.’
‘Aye, we could mebbe be here for a day or more,’ Joe cheerfully agreed. ‘Depends on where we are in the queue. Not that I mind waiting as it means I can stay with you a bit longer. Course, I could always come and settle near this aunt of yours, then I’d still be close by. Makes no odds to me where I live.’
‘You might not like where Aunt Cassie lives, or be able to find a job. You have to go where the work is, Joe. What about your dream to work in a grand hotel? I don’t want you making any sacrifices on my account.’
He moved a step closer, slipping an arm about her slender waist. ‘I’d sacrifice anything for you, Rosie, you know I would.’
Rose rewarded his devotion with a patient smile, but chose to say nothing, not wishing to encourage him in this fancy he had for her. His attachment seemed to have grown daily throughout the voyage, and she wasn’t entirely comfortable to find him forever at her side. Joe was a good friend, nothing more, so far as she was concerned. Besides, there was far too much to be done when they finally landed for her to even think of romance. It would be up to her to find employment as quickly as possible to help Mam provide for the younger ones. Micky too, at fourteen, could work, but the rest were too young as yet to earn their keep.
Gently disengaging herself from his hold, she went to slip her arm into her mother’s and hug her close. ‘Don’t worry, Mam, Aunt Cassie will be waiting, and everything will be fine, I’m sure of it.’ But as Rose again fell to coughing, she marvelled at the confidence in her own voice, quite at odds with the fear that was gnawing her insides.
At length, the steerage passengers were shepherded on to the ferries which were to transport them to Ellis Island for the examination. A great cheer went up as they sailed past the Statue of Liberty, a sight that would live with them for ever. The voices around her were now a jabber of different languages: Italian, German, Hungarian, Slovakian, Polish, all talking at once, mixed in with sobbing and prayers of thanks, the result of highly strung nerves and fearful trepidation.
What if they were rejected? What would they do then?
And there it was at last: a two-storey brick building with a stately tower at each corner and a myriad of windows looking out like hooded eyes over the bay. The reception centre claimed to be able to handle ten thousand immigrants in a day, and to Rose’s bemused eyes there looked to be that many crowded on the patch of land in front of its open doors. Two ferries, each loaded with immigrants, were already lined up along the wharves. One began to draw away as their own took its place. Then the gangplank thumped down, and they stepped out into the unknown.
It was an hour later and they hadn’t moved more than a few feet from where the ferry had deposited them. Clara tugged hard at her sister’s hand. ‘I’m hot, Rosie, and hungry. Can I have something to eat? Can I have a drink, please?’
‘I’m sorry, sweetie, but we don’t have anything to give you, not till we find Aunt Cassie.’
‘Is she here now?’ The little girl’s face brightened as she looked eagerly about her. But, small as she was, Clara found it impossible to see around the crush of people that hemmed her in. And the shouted orders and instructions of the uniformed officials sounded so very frightening to her young ears that she began to cry.
Rose lifted the four-year-old into her arms for a hug. ‘It’s all right, you’ll see, Aunt Cassie will have something nice ready for your tea, I’m sure. Dry your eyes now, and be a good girl for Mam.’
She had to admit to feeling every bit as hot, tired and hungry as her little sister. Like her mother, Rose was wearing several layers of clothing, that being the safest and easiest way to carry them. She felt a bit stupid knowing how ugly and ridiculous she must appear, but everyone was doing the same. The Eastern Europeans looked even stranger in their brightly coloured babushkas, laced bodices and swirling petticoats. The men wore odd little hats and fur coats, their faces running with sweat. Balanced on their head, or tucked under an arm, might be a small box, sack, carpet bag or rolled-up bundle. Some were carrying feather bolsters or household utensils. Being so heavily laden only added to everyone’s weariness and shortened tempers still further.
A babble of tongues in every language and dialect filled the air as people shouted and argued with each other above the din. The line of exhausted immigrants inched slowly forward, shepherded into groups of thirty or so, according to the manifest of the ship that had brought them, the number plain to see on the label each of them wore pinned to their hat or lapel.
‘Leave your luggage here on the ground floor,’ ordered a stentorian voice. Once again Rose resisted.
‘We’ll keep tight hold of them, ta very much.’
‘You’ll do as you’re told, miss, if you know what’s good for you.’
‘Do hush, Rose,’ gasped Annie in dismay. ‘This isn’t the moment for one of your stubborn moods. Can’t you see, everyone is being told the same thing.’
A kindly woman standing behind them in the queue gently patted Rose’s shoulder. ‘It will be quite safe, dearie. You pick them up later after you’ve passed through the inspection. And when you go up them stairs, mind you walk proper, and don’t hold the kiddies’ hands.’ With a jerk of her chin she indicated a wooden staircase leading up to the next floor where two stern-faced officials waited. ‘Children have to prove they aren’t disabled. Make sure none of ’em limp, or are short of breath, or they’ll be hauled out of line for a health check. These stairs are not called “the six-second exam” for nothing.’
Rose put a hanky to her mouth to stifle another threatened fit of coughing, terror filling her heart at the prospect of losing one of her brothers and sisters.
Bravely, Annie smiled at her children as they gazed anxiously up at her, a worried look clouding her own eyes at this well-meant advice. ‘Remember you must all be on your best behaviour. They won’t let naughty children or bad boys into America, you can be quite certain on that score,’ she sternly warned them. ‘So keep your back straight, your chin up, and no matter how tired or hot and hungry you might feel, see that you all look bright and alert and healthy. Otherwise they might think you feeble-minded and send you back home. Do you understand?’
Small heads nodded with earnest solemnity.
‘And smile. It can do no harm to look happy at the prospect of coming to this fine land.’
Rose took a breath. Never, in all her life, had she felt less like smiling.
As wary of offending their beloved mother as the stern-looking officials, the children reached the top of the staircase without incident. A woman in front of them was less fortunate. She suddenly became aware that instead of three children clinging to her skirts, there were now only two. One child had been pulled out of line and her plaintive cries of terror could still be heard as he was carried briskly away. The woman was near hysterical, gabbling in some foreign tongue, with no husband at her side to protect her.
‘He’s probably waiting for her at the gate, as Aunt Cassie is,’ Mam told Rose, sympathy warm in her voice. ‘And now one of her children has no doubt been found to be carrying a contagious disease.’
Annie patted the woman’s arm in an effort to comfort her but she ran off in search of the missing infant, clutching the other two tightly by the hand.
The Belsfield children, having safely reached the top of the staircase, gazed about them in wonder. Their astonished gaze took in a high-ceilinged hall bigger than anything they’d seen in their young lives, bigger even than the church they attended every Sunday back home in Bristol. It was railed off into rows, along which they were being herded like sheep or cattle, and where they were to endure yet another long wait.
The Belsfield family were not so fortunate. After a while they became so weary they sat on the hard wooden floor, glad to rest their tired limbs. Little Clara was quietly weeping again and the twin boys were becoming increasingly fractious and argumentative. Mary was doing her utmost to keep them amused with a piece of string and a game of cat’s cradle, but the ploy wasn’t working as they started to surreptitiously punch and kick each other in their hunger and frustration.
From somewhere in the crowd ahead came the strains of an accordion. Rose at once leapt to her feet and started an impromptu little jig which set her brothers and sisters giggling, such a happy sound that it warmed her heart.
‘Come on, dance. Be happy. We’re nearly in America.’
Laughing out loud, they joined in the jig, Joe too, for as usual he was sticking close by the Belsfield family. Taking Rose in his arms he whirled her around till she was giddy and had to urge him to stop.
‘I just need to hold you in my arms,’ he whispered urgently in her ear. ‘Why don’t you marry me, Rosie, then we could set out on this adventure together. We could help each other in this strange new land.’
She pushed him away, brown eyes flashing. ‘You mind your cheek, Joe Colbert. If it’s a woman you’re looking for to do your cooking and cleaning, you can look elsewhere. I have other plans for my life.’
‘What plans?’
She didn’t have any, not yet. Getting to America had taken all Rose’s energy. Plans for her own life could come later, once she had work and money coming in. ‘To help look after Mam and the kids, of course.’
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