My Lady Deceiver

by Freda Lightfoot

  They must know who she was, or who they thought she was. Could none of them find it in themselves to offer a polite smile?

  The rest of the sparse congregation appeared to comprise the housekeeper and butler, plus various servants, and possibly a few tenant farmers in their best funereal attire. They too were staring at her, as if she had grown two heads. Or else they were looking at the child.

  Darling Robbie was thankfully still sleeping peacefully through all of this unwelcome attention, despite the grinding squeaks and chords of an ancient organ, although Rose doubted this state of bliss could continue for very much longer. It was rapidly approaching his time for a feed.

  For the first time Rose longed for Joe’s presence, but he had gone off with the groom to find her luggage. Infuriating, pushy and self-opinionated he may be, yet she could have done with some friendly support right now. Straightening her spine, Rose held fast to her failing courage. She must accept their interest as perfectly natural. Since they’d never met her, possibly weren’t even aware of her existence until recently, it was only to be expected that they would be curious. She had a good deal of explaining to do, whether or not she went along with Joe’s plan, but she’d judge the right moment to relate her tale. And Rose fully intended to do so with tact and care, breaking the news of dear Rosalind’s death gently. In the meantime she must put on a good face and exercise patience.

  After the short service the coffin-bearers shouldered their burden once more to carry Sir Ralph to his final resting place in the small private graveyard. Rose stood in respectful silence as everyone fell into line and trooped out behind the coffin. She noted that not a single family member so much as glanced her way as they passed by. It felt almost as if they had snubbed her, which caused a shiver to ripple down her spine. Even Bryce Tregowan refused to acknowledge her presence, but kept his cold gaze fixed rigidly ahead. Yet she really mustn’t overreact. This odd behaviour might be the Tregowan family’s way of maintaining dignity, but there was little sign of real grief. Not a tear shed between them. Maybe toffs reacted differently to ordinary mortals on such occasions, she decided.

  Rose dutifully tacked onto the end of the line, and made sure she stood some way back as they all gathered at the graveside, family on one side, servants and tenants on the other.

  But watching Sir Ralph’s coffin being lowered into the ground was really quite upsetting, as it reminded her of his daughter-in-law’s body being committed to the deep only a few short weeks ago. She brushed away a tear from her cold cheek, not wishing to presume to weep over a man she’d never met, yet her heart was filled with sadness that this tiny baby should lose so many family members so quickly. Not only orphaned, but losing someone who might well have become a devoted grandfather. She could weep with the pain of it, for all these people were strangers to her, she really could.

  Robbie chose this precise moment to let out a hiccup, and then a loud wail. All eyes swivelled in her direction, their accusing gaze condemning her for allowing the child to disturb such a poignant moment. Quickly lifting the baby to her shoulder, Rose rubbed his back, hoping to quiet him as she hastily backed away. But Robbie was by now in full-throated roar, having woken to find his tummy empty. And he wanted it filled now!

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she mumbled, hurrying away as quickly as she could, half running across the grass in the direction of the house. She had no idea where the kitchens were, or where Joe had taken the baby’s luggage, but somehow or other she must find Robbie’s bottle and feed him. There would be time enough to meet the family later.

  ‘Excuse me, ma’am.’ A breathless voice came from behind. Rose turned to find a young girl hurrying to join her. ‘I’ll take the baby if you like, see he’s fed and changed.’

  Rose was reluctant to hand Robbie over. ‘I can manage, thank you, if you’ll just point me in the direction of the kitchen.’

  The young woman smiled. ‘I’ll do better than that, I’ll take you. It’s a maze of rooms and corridors inside that house. Tilly’s the name, ma’am, short for Mathilda, although only me mam uses me Sunday name, as I call it, and generally when I’m in trouble.’

  ‘Then I’d be glad of your help, Tilly. Please call me Rose.’

  ‘Ooh, no, milady, that wouldn’t be proper. How old is he, the little one? He looks very young.’

  ‘Not quite a month.’

  ‘Goodness, what a little star to have kept quiet for so long. Let’s find him some grub, shall we?’

  With Tilly’s help Robbie was soon contentedly settled with his bottle, and Rose thought she might use this opportunity to find out a bit more about the Tregowan family. ‘Have you worked here long?’ she asked the girl.

  ‘About seven years, since I was twelve.’

  ‘Are they good people to work for?’

  Tilly half turned away to fuss over putting little Robbie’s nappy to soak, not quite meeting Rose’s eye as she carefully answered. ‘So long as my wages come in regular and I can send some home to me mam, I’ve no complaints. There are plenty worse.’

  ‘What about Lady Tregowan – she’s Sir Ralph’s second wife, I believe?’

  ‘Aye, and she nursed him well in his last years. She dotes on her boys, as she calls them, particularly Jago, the elder of the two. But she’s a stickler for rules and how things should be done. Runs this place with an iron hand, as they say, so we have to mind our p’s and q’s, do things proper or we soon know about it. My trouble is I’m a bit ham-fisted and clumsy, and not much good with rules.’ Tilly smiled, as if at the folly of her own failings. ‘But then I didn’t have Her Ladyship’s fine upbringing. She went to the very best academy for the daughters of gentlemen, was finished on the Continent and presented at court, since her father made a deal of money in banking.’

  ‘Enough to buy his daughters rich husbands?’ Rose smiled, but Tilly was beginning to look embarrassed, so she quickly apologised. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t be asking you these questions. I don’t mean to encourage you to gossip about your employers, only I’m feeling a bit new and strange.’ Lifting the baby, Rose put him to her shoulder to bring up his wind.

  Tilly rushed to fetch a towel to protect her gown. There was an eagerness now in her expression. ‘I expect it does feel a bit odd, milady, this being your first day an’ all. Everyone was thrilled to hear you were coming. You’re just what this place needs: new blood, and young blood at that. It’ll be grand to have a new Lady Tregowan.’

  Rose was stunned. Talking to Tilly, a girl almost her own age, she’d temporarily forgotten her agreement with Joe to maintain the deception, at least for a while. ‘Oh, that’s not the way of it at all,’ she began, then hastily changed the subject before she said something she shouldn’t. ‘What about your own family? Do they live nearby?’

  Her gaze still fastened on the baby, Tilly didn’t immediately answer. ‘Could I hold him for a minute, milady? I love babies, having any number of brothers and sisters younger than me. I lose count of ’em, I do really.’

  They both laughed as Robbie furiously protested over the loss of his bottle as Rose shifted him gently onto the other girl’s lap. Once he was settled and suckling well, she was unable to resist adding, ‘I come from a large family myself.’

  ‘Really? Then we have something in common, milady.’ Tilly smiled.

  More than you might imagine, Rose thought, although didn’t say as much. She longed to talk about her family, to tell this friendly girl the full story, but realised it would be dangerous to embroil herself in too much discussion about herself to a kitchen maid. She hadn’t even met the Tregowan family yet, let alone observed them or judged whether they’d be good carers for Robbie, as Joe had suggested. And judging by the sour looks she’d encountered in the chapel, she was beginning to think that his argument might well be valid. Oh, if only she could make up her mind what was the best thing to do.

  ‘I miss mine terribly,’ Rose volunteered. ‘Do you see them much, your brothers and sisters?’

  ‘Every other Su
nday. That’s my day off, and they don’t live too far away. My parents have a smallholding in Polruan.’ A shadow crossed her face, which Rose was quick to spot.

  ‘Is there a problem? Is someone unwell?’

  ‘Oh, no, nothing like that, milady.’

  ‘What then? What is troubling you, Tilly?’

  ‘It’s not my place to say.’

  It was obvious to Rose that something was seriously worrying her new friend, and if using her alleged status was the way to get out of her whatever it was, then maybe she should take the risk. ‘You can tell me in complete confidence. Perhaps I can help?’

  The frown was instantly wiped away with bright new hope. ‘Ooh, that’d be grand. Do you reckon you might be able to do something, milady?’

  Rose now experienced a sinking sensation in her chest. What was she thinking of, promising to help? She had no power to influence matters here, being little more than a servant herself, an impostor even. The thought startled her, as if she’d never seen herself in that light before. ‘I don’t know whether I can or not, but I’d certainly like to try.’

  Tilly shuffled forward slightly in her seat, her gaze still resting fondly on the baby in her arms, but seemingly anxious that her next words not be overheard by anyone although they were quite alone in the kitchen. ‘They’ve been given notice to quit,’ she whispered in hushed tones.

  ‘Sorry, I don’t understand.’

  ‘My family is about to be evicted. The rent kept going up and up till Mam and Dad couldn’t pay it anymore. So now they’re in arrears and have to leave.’ There were tears in the girl’s eyes, which she quickly brushed away with her arm, since both hands were fully occupied with the baby.

  ‘Oh, my goodness, Tilly, that’s dreadful! Do they have somewhere else to go?’ Rose knew all about eviction. Her own family had suffered a similar fate following the death of her father. They’d all been forced to sleep out on the street for three long cold nights until they’d found accommodation in a flea-riddled hostel.

  Tilly was shaking her head, the tears running down her cheeks unchecked. ‘The next two eldest are in service, like me, but there are still nine children at home, the youngest only two. Dad’s at his wits’ end. He’s a proud man, and a hard worker, happy to pay a proper rent, but with prices being what they are it’s just not possible to find any more money. Mam weaves baskets, takes in washing and does what she can to help Dad on the land, ready to turn her hand to anything, as are the older girls. The young children pick stones from fields for hours on end, getting paid pennies for the back-breaking task. Dad has asked for time to pay, hoping to catch up with arrears as soon as things start to improve, but Mr Jago has given them until the end of this quarter to pay up or get out.’

  ‘Oh, Tilly, I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘They’ll end up on poor relief, or be split up and put in the workhouse.’ The other girl was sobbing now, and thrusting the baby back into Rose’s arms, she ran to the sink to splash her face with cold water. Moments later she returned to stand before her, once more calm and quite her old self. ‘My humble apologies, Your Ladyship. I shouldn’t be troubling you with all this, especially on your first day.’

  ‘I’m glad you did. I want to understand what’s going on here.’ Why did it matter? a voice asked at the back of her head. What was all this to do with her? Because if she stayed, albeit as a servant herself, the more Rose understood about how Penver Court operated, the better. Most important of all, there was little Robbie to think of. What kind of a home had she brought him to? Here was surely more evidence that Joe was right to advise caution.

  Bobbing a little curtsey, Tilly continued, ‘Begging your pardon, milady, but they’ll all be in the drawing room now, where Mrs Pascoe has laid out the funeral repast. The little one will be quite safe with me if you’d like to join them.’ She laid the now sleeping baby in a cradle that had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and gently began to rock him.

  ‘I’m most grateful for your help, Tilly, and I’ve so enjoyed our little talk. Perhaps you could find someone to show me the way?’

  A footman was called, and the young man led Rose along a bewildering labyrinth of corridors until finally he opened the door of the drawing room to reveal an alarming number of people within. Rose almost shrank from entering, wishing the floor could open and swallow her up. Was that sympathy in the eye of the young footman? she wondered, as she cast him a frightened glance. Drawing a breath to steady the frantic beating of her heart, she stepped into the fray rather as Daniel might have walked into the lion’s den.

  Chapter Six

  The silence was deafening. To her complete horror Rose realised that everyone had stopped talking to turn and stare at her. She gained a vague impression of a spacious, luxuriously appointed room in tasteful greens, yellow and gold, caught a glimpse of a pink marble fireplace, of silk-lined walls hung with an intimidating array of family portraits. Never had Rose seen such a room in all her life, the entire scene dazzlingly illuminated by a huge chandelier. It was a world apart from the dingy and overcrowded hovels she had experienced in the past. Her instinct was to turn tail and run, yet she felt frozen to the spot as a bewildering blur of faces swirled before her frightened gaze. It was like being caught in a living nightmare. Nobody moved, nobody spoke, and Rose had not the first idea what to do next.

  ‘Ah, Rosalind, there you are.’ Bryce Tregowan crossed the width of an expensive Persian rug in a few swift strides, negotiating the crowd with elegant ease. Then taking her by the elbow he led her across to an unsmiling woman who stood, sherry glass in hand, framed by a wide bay window with a view of the gardens beyond. Her composure was rigid and unsmiling, and not in the least encouraging. ‘Allow me to introduce my mother, Lady Tregowan.’

  Without thinking, Rose bobbed a little curtsey and Bryce laughed out loud. ‘There’s really no need to stand on ceremony, Rosalind. Ah, I was forgetting. Mama, allow me to introduce you to Sir Ralph’s daughter-in-law Rosalind, who prefers to be called Rose.’

  A pair of cold blue eyes considered her with stern disapproval. They appeared to be the only mark of colour in her entire appearance, bolero, lace blouse and fluted taffeta skirt being one of unrelieved black from neck to toe. Even her hair was almost black, a shining coil of glossy tresses, atop which was perched a hat with an equally mournful ostrich feather curled about the brim.

  ‘I trust you have given your nursemaid a sound ticking off?’

  ‘I-I beg your pardon?’

  ‘You clearly have no control over your staff, let alone that child. I cannot imagine what possessed you to take the infant into such an unsuitable atmosphere. You should dismiss the woman forthwith.’

  Rose had been expecting a polite enquiry about her journey, her health, or possibly a question about Rosalind’s late husband, or more likely why she had kept quiet about the baby. She’d carefully prepared an answer to each, willing to follow Joe’s plan and hold off from telling her tale for a little while, till she’d had time to look the family over, as he had suggested. But this question was so unexpected it threw her completely off balance. It almost made her want to giggle. But then the Tregowan family seemed to make a habit of catching one unawares. ‘Actually, I don’t have a nursemaid.’

  ‘You don’t have a nursemaid!’ The resonant tones rang out so loud that anyone who had quietly returned to their social chit-chat paused again to listen in to the conversation. ‘Are you completely without common sense? You’ll be telling me next that you feed the babe yourself.’

  This was ridiculous. She had to come clean and tell the truth at once. ‘Goodness, no. I couldn’t possibly do such a thing, since I—’

  ‘Since you are a lady. I’m vastly relieved to hear that you have some degree of pride.’ Tilting her head to one side, the dowager scanned Rose with a deprecating glance. ‘You would be wise to remember that the Tregowans do have certain standards to maintain. Perhaps it is because you have spent so many years in America, where I expect things are d
one rather differently. But it is not considered proper in this country to take a child into a funeral service.’

  ‘I-I do beg your pardon, My Lady, but as I had only just arrived, there really didn’t seem any alternative. I-I wasn’t thinking.’

  ‘A sad state of affairs which was all too apparent,’ Lady Tregowan sharply responded. ‘But you cannot simply turn up, quite out of the blue, and expect us to provide you with servants, or special treatment, because you’ve at last graced us with your presence.’

  Rose was appalled by the direction this conversation was going. It was almost as if the woman was determined to start an argument. It was so disappointing, particularly when she’d taken such care to mind her p’s and q’s, as Tilly had warned her they must all do. Clearly she had already blotted her copybook. Could it really be because she’d taken the baby into the little chapel, or was there some deeper reason? Rose could almost feel everyone’s gaze pricking the back of her neck, which was growing hotter by the second. She made a polite attempt to apologise. ‘I wasn’t expecting any special treatment, only a child is welcome everywhere, don’t you think, My Lady?’

  ‘Not at a funeral! Dear me, whatever next? Nor, in truth, do you have any right yourself to intrude upon what is, after all, a private occasion. You can hardly call yourself one of the family.’

  Bryce stepped hastily forward to interrupt at this point, noisily clearing his throat. ‘As a matter of fact she is, Mother. Don’t forget that she is Robert’s wife … er … widow, and Sir Ralph’s daughter-in-law. Therefore, she has every right to be present at his funeral.’

  The woman silenced her son with a freezing glare before continuing her attack. ‘You are younger than I expected, quite a bit younger, in fact.’

  ‘I’m older than I look,’ Rose quickly responded, startled by the question as she recalled how Rosalind had indeed been a good few years older than herself.