Her Mother's Daughter

by Evie Grace

  ‘I’ve written back to let her know that you’re here,’ he went on.

  ‘I wish you hadn’t,’ she sighed.

  ‘She called on you once when you were at Mrs Hamilton’s, but you were out. She’d been to see me and Temperance, and Arthur happened to mention that he knew where you were living. She was disappointed that she didn’t get to see you before she returned to Whitstable.’

  ‘Whereas I was relieved,’ Agnes confessed. ‘I’m so ashamed – I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to look her in the eye.’

  Oliver smiled wryly. ‘She doesn’t care what you did or how you came to be here. She’s desperate to see you again. She’s always talking about you. She misses you like a daughter.’

  ‘I miss her too.’ She brushed back a tear as she remembered the days they had spent in the schoolroom and out walking. She often dreamed that she and Nanny were back at Windmarsh.

  ‘I don’t like the idea that I’m an extra drain on your resources,’ she said, changing the subject. ‘I’ve been thinking.’

  ‘Again?’ He rubbed his temple with his forefinger. ‘I don’t like the sound of that. The last time you said it, you told me you were leaving.’

  ‘Well, you won’t want me here with a child.’ She forced a smile. ‘They can cry a terrible lot. When my little brother was born …’ Her voice tailed off at the memory of when she’d first consoled him as a babe in the nursery while Mrs Pargeter snored in her bed.

  ‘His name was Henry,’ Oliver said. ‘Marjorie was his governess until he was sent to school.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘I know that babies bawl, and create untidiness, but I’m more than happy for you to remain here. In fact, I insist that you do. Agnes, I can’t see another child brought into the world disadvantaged through no fault of its own. Arthur’s fond of you and needs a woman’s care at this time of his life.’

  She was fond of Arthur too and touched that he had called her Ma.

  ‘I can’t help noticing that the time of your confinement isn’t far away and I think it would be useful to call in some extra help. You’ll soon have an infant to care for on top of everything else. Do you know of anyone, a girl who might be in need of a place?’

  She thought for a moment.

  ‘Don’t worry about whether or not I can afford it.’ He smiled. ‘I’m happy to pay for a decent cook. I’m not being unkind – I’m being practical.’

  ‘I’m not sure how much experience this person has of the kitchen, but I know she’d be a good, honest worker,’ Agnes said.

  ‘Who would that be and how do I contact her?’

  ‘I’ll write to her on your behalf.’

  ‘There is paper and a spare pen in my desk. You can use that.’

  ‘I’ll write straight away,’ she said, making her way to the study, where she composed her letter.

  Dear Evie,

  I pray that you will find someone to read this letter to you. I hope you are well.

  I have some news that may be of interest to you. I know of a position for a maid with good prospects. When the master of the house where I am staying in Canterbury asked me if I could recommend a suitable person, I thought of you.

  Please send word that you will at least come for an interview.

  Your ever loving friend,

  Agnes Linnet

  ‘Do you think your friend will come?’ Oliver asked later when she returned to the parlour to wish him goodnight.

  ‘I sincerely hope so,’ she answered. She would like to see Evie settled at Willow Place as a reward for her friendship and loyalty.

  ‘If you left, I’d miss you more than I can say,’ he said softly. ‘You will stay on?’

  ‘For now,’ she said, her heart silently breaking.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Three for a Girl, Four for a Boy

  ‘There’s a lady askin’ for you, Ma,’ Arthur called from the front door a few days later. ‘It’s a Miss Potts and she looks very well.’

  ‘Evie.’ Her heart leapt. She had come. She waddled down the hall to greet her.

  ‘Hello, Miss Linnet.’ Evie’s hair was plaited up under her bonnet and she was dressed in her Sunday best and a pair of gloves. ‘Thank you for your letter – John read it to me.’

  ‘The footman?’ Agnes enquired.

  ‘Yes.’ It was a bright May morning and the sunlight turned her dark blue eyes a shade of violet. ‘The position? It is still available?’

  ‘Of course, but unfortunately the master of the house is at the tannery.’

  ‘I’ll run and fetch him,’ Arthur said.

  Agnes thanked him and he put on his boots and disappeared.

  ‘There’s no way you’ll be running anywhere.’ Evie smiled. ‘You look very well. Oh, Miss Linnet, I’ve bin so worried about you.’

  ‘I’ve made it through some hard times, but I’m still here. I’ve lots to tell you,’ she said. ‘Do call me Agnes, though.’

  ‘I thought I should speak proper seeing I’m here to impress.’

  ‘There’s no need for ceremony. Mr Cheevers – Oliver – is a kind and considerate man. He’s my former nanny’s cousin who took me in, and let me live here in return for housekeeping duties. The trouble is, I’m no good at cooking – Oliver almost broke his tooth on my first attempt at pastry.’

  Evie smiled again. ‘It seems that you’ve ’ad to l’arn quickly considering you were a governess at Roper House, not a maid.’

  ‘How are the young ladies? I feel very bad for what happened. I’m not sure I shall ever live it down.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about them. Elizabeth cried and refused to eat for three days unless Lady Faraday had you reinstated, but as soon as she heard that Master Moldbury was returning to Roper House for a few days in the New Year, she was back to her usual self. Charlotte was quiet for a while – she took it worse. They ’ave a new governess, but she is like a mouse and will not last long. The ladies run rings round her.’

  ‘And what about …’ she lowered her voice ‘… Master Faraday?’

  ‘Ah, he is … I’m not sure you’ll want to hear this.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘He is engaged to be married. Sir Richard called him a loose cannon, I believe, and said it was time he stopped sowing his wild oats and settled down.’

  ‘Oh?’ She thought for a moment about Sir Richard’s hypocrisy. It was exactly because he’d wanted Felix to sow his oats that he’d encouraged him in his plan of going abroad to look for investments once he’d finished his studies.

  ‘I hope the news doesn’t upset you.’

  ‘Not in the slightest.’ It didn’t. She didn’t care for him any more, only for his child who was growing every day in her belly.

  ‘Are you and this Mr Cheevers …? Well, you know?’

  ‘Oh no.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Of course, you aren’t.’ Evie’s lip trembled. ‘I ’aven’t wrecked my chances, ’ave I?’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Not with me, you haven’t.’

  ‘I want this job. I can’t stand being at Roper House a moment longer.’

  ‘I had thought you were rather fond of John the footman.’

  ‘Yes, I am. We’re walking out together.’ Evie’s cheeks turned pink. ‘No, it’s Sir Richard. There’s bin a plague of rats in the attic. I was creeping up to bed when this gun went off in my face. I’ve never jumped so high. My screams woke the whole household. Anyway, I can’t live like that, in fear of my life. And those dogs of his. You clean the floor until it’s gleaming and a few minutes later it’s covered in muddy pawprints, and you ’ave to start all over again. He has no respect for anyone except his slavering hounds.’

  Like father, like son, Agnes thought.

  ‘Anyway, I’d rather be out of there, and when you said in that letter that there were prospects, I jumped at it. I only hope that I can persuade this Mr Cheevers to take me on.’

  ‘Just be yourself and you’ll win him over.’

  ‘I ’aven’t as
ked Lady Faraday for a reference.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ve already given Oliver my opinion of your character. Come into the study and take a seat. Would you like some tea?’

  ‘No, thank you. I’m too nervous.’

  Agnes heard Arthur’s footsteps as Evie sat down at the desk.

  ‘He’s on his way,’ Arthur yelled as he came into the study, red-faced and breathless from running.

  ‘Hush,’ Agnes said. ‘You are very loud.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ma, but it’s to get attention. If you don’t shout, you won’t be heard. That’s what Ma used to say.’ His face creased suddenly.

  ‘Oh, Arthur.’ She put her arms around him and pressed her lips to his hair, which smelled sweet and clean.

  ‘I hear that we have a visitor.’ Oliver strolled into the room, ducking his head under the beam just inside the doorway. ‘Oh dear,’ he added, noticing Arthur’s distress.

  ‘I’ll take him into the kitchen. Oliver, this is Evie – Miss Evie Potts.’

  ‘Greetings,’ he said with enthusiasm. ‘Welcome to Willow Place.’

  ‘Good afternoon,’ she said, then stammered, ‘Oh dear, that’s gorn and done it. It isn’t past twelve o’clock yet. You won’t want a maid who doesn’t know the time of day.’

  Oliver smiled and took a seat opposite Evie. Agnes backed out with her hands guiding Arthur by his skinny shoulders, and closed the door behind them.

  ‘I have cake,’ she said, leading him to the kitchen. ‘I made it last night after you’d gone to bed.’ She cut him a slice of raisin loaf.

  ‘It’s delicious, Ma,’ he said, chewing valiantly.

  ‘You should always tell the truth,’ she said. ‘Take it from me – honesty is a virtue.’

  ‘I’m not lyin’,’ he said, grinning as the tears dried in grimy tracks down his cheeks. ‘This is the best cake I’ve ever ’ad.’

  ‘Well, thank you,’ she said, gratified.

  When he had finished the third slice, Evie came through to the kitchen. She stood in the doorway, beaming.

  ‘You’ll never guess, but Mr Cheevers said I can ’ave the position of maid. If I do well, he’ll promote me to housekeeper within six months.’

  ‘Oh, congratulations, Evie. When do you start?’ Agnes said.

  ‘In a week or two, as soon as I’ve worked out my notice. You look like you can do with some help.’ Evie eyed Agnes’s belly.

  ‘I’m struggling. It won’t be long until the baby comes.’ A shiver of fear ran down her spine. ‘To be honest, I’m scared.’

  ‘There’s no reason to be. All will be well in the end.’

  ‘I wish I had your faith.’

  ‘You’ve bin in my prayers every night since you left the Faradays. Oh, Agnes, I can’t wait to be here. We’ll be two friends together again.’

  Agnes smiled wryly. She didn’t enlighten Evie that she wouldn’t be staying at Willow Place for ever, only until the baby was born and she could find employment elsewhere. It wasn’t merely because she didn’t want to impose on Oliver any longer than necessary, but because she was falling hopelessly in love with him. And it was hopeless, because even if, by any stretch of the imagination, he decided to commit to her, a fallen woman with a bastard child, she would never allow it. He’d said they were equal in intellect, but she was inferior to him in every other way, in generosity and goodness.

  Evie returned to Willow Place a week later, and her arrival wasn’t a moment too soon, because the next day Agnes was standing at the scullery sink washing the pots when a dull pain dragged through her belly. She must have gasped out loud because Oliver came to her side.

  ‘You aren’t well, Agnes,’ he said, his voice filled with concern.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said through gritted teeth as a wave of pain, stronger than the first, took the words from her mouth. ‘What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the tannery?’

  ‘Well, yes, but I saw Evie go out to the market and I thought I’d better stay and keep an eye on you. It’s a good thing I did.’ He held her gaze as she looked up at him. ‘Let me help you up the stairs.’

  ‘No, really. I’m perfectly …’ She pressed her hand to her belly.

  ‘Oh, my dear. I can’t bear to see you like this.’ He swore out loud. ‘I wish I knew what to do.’

  ‘Just hold my arm while I make my way to my room,’ she said.

  ‘Of course. Anything,’ he muttered. As he walked her to the foot of the stairs, she heard voices and the sound of the front door opening.

  ‘Oliver?’ Evie called.

  ‘Oh, what is it now?’ he said.

  ‘You ’ave a visitor,’ Evie announced. ‘She says her name is Marjorie.’

  ‘Everything is happening at once,’ Oliver said, his voice filled with relief. ‘Greetings, dear cousin. You’ve arrived just in time.’

  ‘My mistress released me from my duties a day early.’ Agnes looked along the hallway at the familiar tone of the person she had loved and grown up with. ‘The family is going away on their annual holiday and I have two weeks to myself. Thank you for writing to me. Where is she?’

  Oliver kept hold of Agnes’s arm as he introduced Miss Treen to Evie, and although she wanted to greet her too, Agnes could hardly concentrate as another pain began to build in her belly.

  ‘She is ready for her confinement?’ she heard Nanny exclaim.

  ‘I think the baby will be here very soon,’ Oliver said.

  ‘Help me get her to bed. Evie, bring some refreshments – we will all need to keep our strength up.’

  This was not how Agnes wanted Nanny to see her: about to give birth to her illegitimate child in the Cheeverses’ home. But that was the least of her worries right now because the pain made her want to scream, and in suppressing that impulse, she recalled her mother’s screams as she laboured with Henry. She couldn’t go through with it, she thought. It was too much.

  Oliver and Nanny helped her up the stairs to her room, and sat her on the edge of the bed.

  ‘Now, Oliver, you must go about your usual business,’ Nanny said sternly. ‘This is women’s work.’

  ‘I don’t think I can leave her,’ he said.

  ‘All will be well. Trust me,’ Nanny said, shooing him away. She helped Agnes out of her apron.

  ‘The child is coming.’ Agnes rocked back and forth to ease the next pain, wondering how she could have ever been so naive as to have believed the story of the stork and the chimney. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘There’s nothing to be sorry about. Oliver has explained a little of what’s happened in his letters to me, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s all water under the bridge. The important thing now is to concentrate on helping this child into the world.’

  ‘Have you delivered an infant before?’ Agnes asked tentatively.

  ‘No, but I’m sure we’ll manage.’ Nanny sounded apprehensive, Agnes thought. ‘All you have to do is stay calm and breathe through the pains. We have Evie to fetch and carry, and we can call for a doctor if there are complications.’

  She laboured for seven hours. When she thought she couldn’t go on any longer, and was wishing that she’d been left to die in the gutter at the foot of the Westgate Towers, she was at last safely delivered of a baby girl.

  She could hardly look at her at first for fear that she would see Felix in her features, but she couldn’t put it off for ever. As the infant yawned, she forced herself to examine her face.

  ‘She is very beautiful, the image of you, dear Agnes,’ Nanny said, and she began to point out all the ways in which she resembled her mother. ‘I recall when you were eight months old. Your hair was like that, and your nose was a similar shape, like a button. Oh, you are most fortunate to have a healthy infant. I wish … Oh, never mind.’

  ‘Do you really think she looks like me?’

  ‘There is no mistaking that you are mother and daughter. Ah, she is perfect, a gift from God. What will you call her?’

  Agnes pressed her l
ips to her forehead, inhaling her warm, milky scent. She wanted to call her by a name that had no associations with her past, something pretty and entirely her own choice.

  ‘Rose,’ she said softly. ‘Rose Agnes Ivy Catherine Linnet.’

  ‘Catherine? After your mother? Are you sure?’

  Agnes nodded. She felt it would go some way to making up for how she had treated her true mother when she had met her just before her nineteenth birthday.

  ‘What a lovely idea,’ Nanny sighed fondly. ‘I couldn’t have chosen better myself. By the way, I have something to return to you. It seems like an auspicious moment.’ She disappeared from the room and returned a short while later. ‘Here,’ she said, holding out her hand on which lay the half a sixpence on its silver chain which her mother had given her on that fateful day in Faversham. ‘I found it under the bed at Windmarsh Court.’

  Agnes remembered throwing it across the room in a fit of temper, and her eyes filled with tears at what she had done. She knew now, sitting propped up against the pillows with her daughter cuddled up against her breast, that her mother must have been truly desperate to have handed her over for adoption. She could never find the strength to give her own baby away, even if she knew she would be certain of a better life. Maybe it was selfish of her to think that way, she thought, but she couldn’t do it.

  ‘I will wear it until the time is right for me to hand it over to Rose,’ she said.

  Nanny placed it around her neck and fastened the clasp at the back without disturbing the baby.

  ‘I believe that your mother married your father’s brother in the end – he is a blacksmith in a village called Overshill. He had the chain made for her.’

  ‘How do you know this?’

  ‘I did a little investigation of the address from which she sent the letters asking me to arrange the meeting.’

  ‘I see.’ Agnes touched the rough-edged half a coin at her neck, marvelling at how something so small and financially worthless had become her most precious possession. ‘Thank you, Nanny.’

  ‘Isn’t it time you started calling me Marjorie?’

  Agnes smiled.

  ‘Pull up the chair and tell me what you have been doing,’ she said.