by Michelle Cox
Stunned, Henrietta took a step back, cradling her cheek and staring at Ma in disbelief, her anger fanning. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” Henrietta burst out. This time she would not back down! “You even said so yourself. That you refused to go back, even after Grandfather tried to reconcile with you, but you …”
“Oh, yes! I could have gone back,” Ma shouted, “if I agreed to give up both you and Les. Remember that part?”
Henrietta was silent.
“Maybe I should have given you over to them, for all the good it’s done,” Ma went on bitterly. “Here you are running back to them with open arms as if none of it mattered. Well, good luck to you and good riddance! You’ll see what you’re getting yourself into, but then it will be too late. It’s not all fancy balls and china, you know!”
Henrietta could not believe her mother had stooped to this level. “You’re just being plain old mean now, Ma!” she said hotly. “You … you’re jealous, aren’t you? You don’t want me to be happy because you’re not. But nothing can ever make you happy!”
“Happy?” Ma said with almost an incredulous laugh. “What’s happiness got to do with it, you stupid girl? And even if it was somehow important, your chances of happiness with that lot are slim to none. And before you give me some malarkey about Clive being different, just you watch. All men are the same—they only want you on your back. Either getting a baby put in you or pushing one out.”
“Ma!”
“Your father was no different, you know,” she said bitingly, as if she couldn’t stop the tirade that had now erupted from some deep place of hurt within her. “After me all the time, he was, even when I was already carryin’ a baby. Didn’t make no difference to him.”
Henrietta stopped short as she absorbed her mother’s latest blow, her heart beating fast. She didn’t want to hear this. Childishly, she was tempted to put her hands over her ears, but a morbid part of her was curious, too.
“He forced himself on me. More than once,” Ma said, looking away now. “Didn’t know that, did you?” she said, turning her piercing gaze back to her. “Now what do you think of your precious father? All these years making him out to be some sort of saint in your mind. Well, he was no saint … especially after he’d been drinking. This is as much his doing as mine. One baby we could have handled, maybe two or three, but not the lot of you! I didn’t want you all, but what could I do? No, this is all his fault, this is.”
Henrietta’s mind was in turmoil as she tried to steady herself from Ma’s volley of words, which stung her more than the physical slap had just a few moments before. Was this what Ma had meant all these years about everything being her father’s fault? But forcing her? That couldn’t be true, could it? She thought she might be sick.
“He’s here!” they heard Jimmy shout from the other room where he was perched in the bare front window. “Ooh! Eugene! Come see his car!”
“The sooner you know what you’re getting into, the better,” Ma went on, apparently unfazed by Jimmy’s announcement. “Mark my words. And the upper classes are no different; might be even worse. Spread your legs and be quiet; don’t struggle. That’s my wedding advice for you; take it or leave it,” she said as she opened the bedroom door just as a knock was heard on the front one.
Henrietta stood for a few minutes alone in the bedroom trying to collect herself and steady her nerves. She became aware that her legs were slightly shaking. And to think she had been feeling sorry for Ma up until this point, having to humiliatingly face her father after all of this time, to have nothing really to show for the headstrong choices she had made all those years ago except for this ragged bunch of children surrounding her. But these better feelings had left her now. Ma was about to get her comeuppance, and Henrietta couldn’t help but feel a little glad.
—
In the end, the reunion between estranged father and daughter was rather short. Excepting his driver, of course, who obediently waited in the car, Mr. Exley came alone and stepped authoritatively into the apartment once the door had been opened to him. He formally greeted Henrietta, Elsie, and Eugene (who had at the last moment slunk out of the bedroom), having previously met the three of them at the engagement party, and then condescended to be introduced to his five other grandchildren by a rather apprehensive Henrietta. Finally, his eyes rested on Ma, who had positioned herself near the fireplace with posture as straight as her rounded shoulders would now permit and with a face of stone. Henrietta thought she saw a wave of something cross Mr. Exley’s face—Anger? Pity? Compassion? On Ma’s face, however, she saw nothing.
“Martha,” he said, coming toward her, one arm awkwardly stretched out. When she did not make a move to return his proposed half-embrace, however, Mr. Exley quickly dropped his arm and instead deposited a formal, brief kiss on her cheek.
“Hello, Father,” she said, and it struck Henrietta how strange it sounded. “Come to see me brought low, is this what this is?”
“Now, now, Martha, this is not the way to begin, surely?” His voice was falsely sweet.
“Still correcting me?” she asked, her gaze steely.
He ignored her and instead looked around the room now from where he stood, making no attempt to disguise the fact that he was sizing up their pitiful situation, his repulsion evident. “May I sit down?” he finally asked coldly as he glanced at the worn sofa.
“As you wish,” Martha said, stiffly following suit as she lowered herself down into the armchair across from him.
Mr. Exley sat down gingerly, as if to prevent dirtying his pressed trousers, and expectantly held out his walking stick toward the row of kids standing along the wall in their Sunday best, hair wetted down, anxiously peering at their new grandfather. Eddie hurriedly stepped from among them and took the stick, Mr. Exley observing him only momentarily.
“Would you like some tea, grandfather?” Elsie asked hesitantly, standing near Ma’s armchair. “It’s British—proper stuff …”
“No, I think not. I shan’t be staying long.”
“Oh,” she replied disappointedly.
Only Henrietta sat down beside him on the sofa.
“I must congratulate you on Henrietta’s match to the Howard boy,” Mr. Exley said to Ma now. “You must be very proud.”
“We were just discussing it before you came in,” Ma said evenly, and Henrietta felt her face grow warm again, still feeling the sting of the slap, or imagining anyway that she did.
“We were so sorry to have missed you at the Howards’ gathering. Henrietta here informed us you weren’t well. I trust you are much better?”
“You know why I wasn’t there, Father. That is not my world any longer. Why don’t you say what you’ve come to say? There’s always a point. Time is money; isn’t that what you were ever fond of saying?” Ma’s speech seemed to have altered as she addressed him, as if she remembered how she had once spoke in a different lifetime, and Henrietta watched her, amazed.
Mr. Exley studied her for a moment. “You haven’t changed a bit, Martha. Still the same.”
“Thank you, Father. Coming from you that’s quite a compliment.”
“Look, Martha. Let’s start again. I’m here to try to smooth things over.”
“You took your time.”
“If you must know, there were many times I wished to resolve our differences. I even took to driving past your dwelling for a stretch of time until your mother discovered my actions, and that was the end of that. Soon after, you moved, I was informed, and I lost track of you.”
“I’m sure you could have found me if you wanted to. Sent one of your agents to ferret me out of the woodwork, as it were.”
“Yes, I considered that, but I thought maybe your anonymity might be for the best. You seemed to prefer it that way, anyway.”
“I did. Yes.”
“Your mother died.”
“Yes, I read it in the paper.”
“My God, Martha! You’re cold!” he said, shifting slightly.
“I had an
excellent teacher.”
He paused for a moment before beginning again. “Your churlishness does you no credit, Martha. Fate, it seems, will have her way, however, and has seen fit to recross our paths, as it were, for better or worse,” he said, gesturing toward Henrietta, who had remained very still during their disagreeable tête-à-tête. “It’s no use keeping up this facade any longer, Martha. It simply won’t do.”
“So we’ll put up a different one, is that it?”
“This is an unsuitable living arrangement considering you have a daughter in society now.”
“I had nothing to do with that.”
“I’m surely not suggesting otherwise, believe me, except to say that you have raised a well-mannered, and, might I add, beautiful, young lady. My compliments to you, Martha, on that score, at least.”
When Ma did not respond, he continued, unflinching in his tone. “I have taken the liberty of discussing your livelihood with the Howards, who were perfectly willing to support all of you, I will say that here. As generous as that offer is, it is unacceptable to me. If anyone should be responsible for your welfare, it should be me.”
“Like you’ve done all along, you mean?”
“That was your choice—and your mother’s—not mine. As it is now, however, I cannot have my granddaughter marry into the Howards and have the lot of you become their responsibility, or, worse, to be seen living in poverty.”
“So it really has more to do, as usual, with saving face, doesn’t it, Father? You’ve not changed, either, it would seem.”
“Call it what you will, Martha; the result will be the same. This is becoming tedious, so I will get to the point. I have taken a house for you in Palmer Square, where you will take up residency immediately.”
There were excited, whispered gasps from along the wall, and Elsie looked nervously at Henrietta for confirmation, who gave her the slightest nod.
“There is a small staff already in place, which should be suitable to your needs. If you find yourself wanting, however, I shall of course supply more.”
“And if I refuse?”
Mr. Exley chuckled lightly. “Why, then, your other choice is to come and live with me at your brother Gerard’s.”
“You can’t force me to move!” Ma said, angrily.
“True enough. But I can take the children to live with me in Lake Forest. I’ve already discussed it with Gerard, and he’s more than obliging. Of course they’ll always be seen as the poor cousins, but that’s to be expected.”
“They will be, anyway, no matter how fine the house on the Square.”
“Not quite the same, though, is it?”
“You can’t take my children away from me!” Ma said, Henrietta noting a trace of worry in her voice for the first time.
Mr. Exley looked around him with disgust. “I wouldn’t be so sure. There seems quite a lot here that would qualify as neglect, don’t you think?” he added with a slight curl of his lip.
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Don’t try me, my dear. You’ve seen how that works out. And I should mention that if they come to live with me, I could not in all fairness impose upon Gerard’s good nature indefinitely. It would of course then only be temporary until a place at Philips could be arranged,” Mr. Exley said with almost forced casualness, resting two pointed fingers under his chin.
Henrietta made a move to speak—this isn’t how Clive had presented the plan! Boarding school was already an understood part of the arrangement, but she saw that her grandfather was using it now as a way to convince Ma to move. She was shocked by his under-handedness, but at the same time she understood that something clever would have to be done to get Ma to budge. Moving, she had finally admitted to herself, would be a good thing for them … But, still, she felt uncomfortable that her grandfather was then, if not outright lying, certainly holding back part of the truth. And what would happen, Henrietta thought uneasily, when Ma found out that they were to be shipped off to boarding school anyway? She would be furious, of course, and would accuse Henrietta of knowing about it all along, which was true. Henrietta tentatively opened her mouth to protest, but she then remembered her promise to Clive to remain silent, so she bit her lip instead, watching Ma’s face for her reaction. It didn’t take long to see that Ma had been beaten, though she was trying to retain her previous stoicism.
“Very well,” Ma said matter-of-factly. “We will move, but do not think for one moment that we will be entering society to be paraded around according to your whims.”
“I shouldn’t worry about that, Martha. At least where you’re concerned, anyway. I rather think your society days have passed you by, don’t you? Except for the Howard wedding, that is. I trust you will be in attendance for that, suitably arrayed, of course?” he said, his eyes observing her old, black dress.
Ma glared at him with what seemed to Henrietta to be pure hatred.
“And as for the children, there may be some societal obligations, to be sure, but we will come to those all in good time. Once Henrietta, here, is married,” he smiled briefly at her, “we must find a suitable match for Elsie.”
“Oh, but grandfather, I …” Elsie tried to interrupt.
“We will discuss it some other time, my dear,” he said, looking at her briefly before turning back to face Ma.
Ma continued to stare at him before she spoke again. “Do not expect for one minute that I am grateful.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Martha. That would be entirely out of character.”
“Don’t be like that, Ma,” said Eugene, finally, a sly grin creeping across his face from where he had been standing behind Ma. “Seems our ship has come in with Grandfather,” he said, almost distastefully.
Mr. Exley glanced up at him now, coolly, as if observing him for the first time. “Ah, yes, Eugene. I was coming to that. Been rather a naughty boy, as I understand.”
Eugene’s previous smug look faded and was replaced by one of faint concern.
“I have a different plan for you altogether which you might as well know about at once,” Mr. Exley continued briskly. “I’ve enrolled you at Fishburne Military Academy in Virginia, where you will proceed to in one week’s time. Consider yourself lucky to have gotten a place. I had to pull considerable strings.”
A gasp went around the room, and Ma stood up slowly, leaning on the arm of the chair as she did. “You can’t do that!”
“Oh, yes, I can, my dear,” Mr. Exley said calmly, remaining in his seat.
“You can’t make me go there!” Eugene whined, an angry scowl on his face now.
“I can, and I will. The arrangements have already been made, so there is no point to this unseemly belligerence.”
“Ma! Don’t send me away!” Eugene begged, turning to face Ma.
Ma’s face flushed red as she took a step closer to her father, preparing to unleash her fury on him.
Before she could do so, however, Mr. Exley calmly held up his hand to stop her. “Before you even begin, Martha, I’ve quite made up my mind. He can either go to Fishburne or to jail, and don’t think I won’t do it.”
“You can’t do this! He’s not a thief! Those charges were dropped!”
“Be that as it may, I understand it was not because his innocence was proven; it was merely the result of a connection of the Howards to whom I am now inconveniently indebted. And I have been embarrassingly informed of yet another incident of theft, which can, I am told, be proven very quickly.”
“You can’t mean Eugene!” Ma said incredulously. “He’s hardly left his room since … since he was released!” she went on, though this wasn’t actually true.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Eugene said testily.
“Silence!” Mr. Exley shouted, causing everyone in the room to jump. A timorous hush fell over the room except for the sound of Doris wriggling behind Donny. “Lying is a sin for which I have no mercy, much less patience,” he said steadily. “And you, sir,” he said, looking directly at Eu
gene, “have severely tried my patience. Henrietta,” he said, still not taking his eyes off Eugene, “would you be so kind as to oblige me?”
Eugene tore his eyes from Mr. Exley and gave Henrietta one last despairing look before she made her way stiffly to the bedroom and returned carrying a ragged, black sock. In front of the silent, watching group, she reached her hand inside and drew out two beautiful, golden Fabergé eggs covered with brilliant stones.
Ma gasped, and Elsie, her face burning, looked at the corner floorboards. It took only a moment before Ma regained her self-possession and stalked over to where Eugene stood, his own cheeks aflame now, and slapped him, hard, across the face. “How dare you!” she hissed. “Where did you get these?”
Eugene looked at her with searing anger before casting his gaze downward, not even giving her the pleasure of rubbing his cheek, which must have surely been in pain, judging from the bright red hue that had resulted from Ma’s hand.
“They were taken from Highbury, it would seem, at Henrietta and Clive’s engagement party, the Howard butler reports. Is this not correct, Henrietta?”
“Yes, Grandfather,” Henrietta said quietly, handing them to him now, privately concerned that Ma had resorted to two slaps in one day.
“The Howards, understandably, are quite upset, and it was Alcott’s intention to call the police before Clive intervened. He was kind enough to bring the matter to my attention before any legal action was taken. So,” he said, standing up slowly, “there is nothing more to be said.” He took a step toward Eugene, who was looking at him now with sullen fear. “I understand that there has been no one to take you in hand, but those days are very much over for you, I’m afraid. You will report to Fishburne in one week’s time.” He pointed a somewhat crooked forefinger at him and looked at him with disgust. “You will not disgrace me again, boy. Fishburne will make a man of you, make no mistake about that, but take care as to what sort of man you will become. I’ve been made a fool of one too many times,” he said, looking at Martha now. “I’ll not endure another. Either make something of yourself at Fishburne, or you’ll be swiftly hauled off to jail, or, if that’s not to your liking, I own several mines where you will be sent to labor. And as your mother can tell you, I generally get my way in most matters, so don’t try me. After all, look where it has gotten her.”
