by Dilly Court
‘That’s not how it will be,’ Belinda said, shocked into retaliating by his shrewd assessment of the case. ‘With a good education and a little training, I’m sure that we can find a suitable position for Cassy. She’s an intelligent girl and I intend to take her under my wing.’
Oliver shrugged his shoulders. ‘Can’t think why, but good for you, I say. Where’s that pie and porter? A chap could die of starvation waiting to be fed in this house.’ He winked at Cassy. ‘What about you, brat? I bet they feed you on pigswill in school. I’m sure you could manage something tasty to eat.’
‘I am a bit hungry,’ Cassy admitted. She glanced up at Belinda. ‘My ma can take care of me, mis— my lady. You shouldn’t have to bother your head about a chi-chi from Cripplegate.’
Belinda gasped in horror, hardly able to believe her ears. She shot a warning glance at Oliver, who was grinning widely. ‘Where did you hear that awful word, Cassy?’
‘They call me that at school,’ Cassy said wearily. ‘I’m used to it now. I get teased all the time about my dark skin and hair, but so does Lottie and she’s a Jew. She says that people are like that and you’ve just got to ignore it and get on with your life. Lottie’s my friend and her papa said I could go and stay with them in Whitechapel where he has a tailor’s shop. So if you find me too much of a handful, you can always send me there.’
‘There you are; a solution to the knotty problem at last,’ Oliver chortled. ‘You can send us both to the tailor’s shop in Whitechapel. Perhaps that could be my calling in life. I’m sure I’d make a damn fine tailor. Better that than a soldier, I daresay.’
He spoke with such a twinkle in his green eyes that Belinda was forced to smile despite her concern for Cassy. She held up her hand. ‘No one is going to Whitechapel. It was very kind of the gentleman to offer you a home for the holidays, Cassy, but I want you here, and I know that Mahdu would be very unhappy if you were to go away so soon. As for you, Ollie, I think your plan of joining the army is a far better one. I can see you as a dashing young officer, but somehow the vision of you sitting cross-legged on the floor, sewing a seam, doesn’t fit.’
Oliver opened his mouth to reply but closed it again with a satisfied sigh as the door opened and Mahdu ushered in a maid bearing a tray laden with food.
Belinda watched her daughter attack the food, stuffing bread and butter into her mouth as though she had not eaten for a week. The child’s table manners were appalling but she could not bring herself to make a comment until Cassy cut a slice of pie and attempted to eat it off the point of her knife.
‘No,’ Belinda and Mahdu cried in horrified unison.
Cassy dropped the knife in fright, staring at them nonplussed. ‘What did I do?’
Mahdu bustled towards her, snatching up the knife and a fork. She placed them in Cassy’s hands. ‘Don’t they teach you anything at that school? You don’t eat off a knife, my girl. Do you want to cut your tongue off and remain a mute for the rest of your life?’
‘They don’t let us have knives at school,’ Cassy murmured, blushing and hanging her head. ‘We have spoons and forks. I didn’t know I done wrong.’
‘Of course not,’ Belinda said hastily. ‘It’s not your fault. Just enjoy your meal. There will be plenty of time for lessons in table manners. We have two whole weeks before you have to return to school.’
Mahdu frowned. ‘Have you thought this through?’ she whispered. ‘Where is the child to sleep? And what do I tell the other servants?’
‘A tricky question,’ Oliver said, spearing a pickled onion on his fork. ‘Dashed difficult thing to hide a ten-year-old kid, especially when she’s got an appetite like a donkey.’ He winked at Cassy who immediately put her knife and fork down, leaving her meal half eaten.
‘It’s none of your business, Ollie,’ Belinda said severely. ‘Cassy is my protégée and your father likes me to keep myself occupied with good works.’
Cassy pushed her plate away and leapt to her feet. ‘Ta, lady. But I ain’t a charity case. I’ll work and pay for me keep like a good ’un. Bailey always said you don’t get nothing for nothing, and I can see he was right.’
Shocked by the vehemence of her child’s outburst, Belinda stared at Cassy in amazement. ‘Don’t upset yourself, my dear. You are my guest and there’s no question of you having to work during your holiday.’ She sent a questioning glance in Mahdu’s direction. ‘Who is Bailey?’
‘I can answer for meself, missis,’ Cassy cried angrily. ‘Bailey is the best friend a girl could have. He looked after me since I was a baby and he was always there for me until Biddy croaked. He wouldn’t have joined the army if he’d had any choice in the matter. He didn’t want to leave me. It near broke his heart, and mine too.’
‘Now there I can sympathise with this fellow,’ Ollie said, his smile fading. ‘I’m not so sure about a military career for myself either.’
‘Be quiet, Ollie,’ Belinda said more sharply than she had meant to. She moderated her tone. ‘I mean, you have a choice as to your future, which it seems was denied to Cassy’s friend.’
‘Not much of a choice, Belle,’ Ollie muttered. ‘Pater wants me to enlist as an ensign in the 13th Hussars, but I’m dashed if I want to prance about on a horse all day.’
‘The army might be the making of you,’ Belinda said gently. ‘You could do a lot worse, Ollie.’ Despite his outward show of bravado she felt a degree of sympathy for Oliver, who although little more than a boy was to be flung head first into a man’s world whether he wished it or not. Geoffrey had insisted that a spell in the army would be the making of his son, but Belinda was aware that military life did not suit everyone. She had known young men whose families had forced them into the service when they were emotionally unsuited for such a career. She had seen men not much older than her stepson whose spirits had been crushed and their nerves shattered after experiencing the reality of warfare. And of course there were the broken-hearted women left behind to mourn the loss of their loved ones. She knew only too well the pain and heartache, made even worse by being unable to grieve openly. She turned her attention to Cassy and once again her heart swelled with love for her daughter who was clearly on the verge of tears at the mention of her old friend. Belinda gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Perhaps we can find out where Bailey is stationed and you might be able to see him, providing his unit has not been sent abroad.’
Cassy wiped her eyes on her sleeve. ‘Do you think so, ma’am?’
‘Tomorrow morning, my husband is going to take Oliver to the barracks to meet his commanding officer. A few discreet enquiries might well discover the whereabouts of your friend, or at least give us an inkling as to where we might go to find out more. Who knows, he might even be stationed at Wellington barracks.’
‘I’ve met this boy,’ Mahdu said hastily. ‘I would know him again if I saw him in the street.’
‘Then perhaps we will all go,’ Belinda said happily. ‘We’ll support Ollie, and if we’re lucky we may find Bailey.’
‘In the meantime we must decide how best to present Cassy to the household,’ Mahdu said firmly. ‘And where is the child to sleep, my lady?’
Refusing to allow Mahdu’s stern expression to dampen her enthusiasm, Belinda shrugged her shoulders and laughed. ‘Don’t make such a pother about small details, Mahdu, darling. Get someone to set up a truckle bed in your room and Cassy can sleep there with you to look after her.’ Ignoring Mahdu’s pursed lips, Belinda turned to Oliver. ‘And you must cheer up, Ollie. You’ll love being a cavalryman. I can just see you in uniform, riding a splendid horse and having the young ladies fall at your feet.’
Oliver drained the last drop from his glass of porter. ‘I am a good horseman, and I’ll look quite handsome in uniform. I suppose I might give it a go.’
Belinda awakened early next morning with a feeling that all was right with the world. She could hardly believe that her daughter was under the same roof and that they were to spend the best part of a fortnight together. She sat
up in bed and pulled the bell rope to summon the maid with her morning hot chocolate and hot water to fill the washbowl. Sunshine streamed into her room through a chink in the curtains and she lay back against the pillows struggling with the important decision as to which gown and bonnet she should wear to the barracks. A frisson of excitement ran through her veins at the prospect of being back in the world in which she had grown up, but if the idea of being amongst the military was like going home, it was also tinged with sadness and regret for the loss of her father and the man to whom she had given her heart. The pain of the old wound continued to ache like a scar that would never properly heal.
But this was not the time for sad memories. The future stretched before her and was all the brighter now that she was reunited in some small measure with her daughter. Belinda swung her legs over the side of the bed and went to the window to draw back the curtains. The sky above the rooftops was a cerulean blue with tiny puffballs of white cloud floating high up in the atmosphere. It was already warm and the day promised to be fine. She would wear her blue muslin gown sprigged with white daisies and tiny green leaves. It was a coincidence perhaps, but it was in a similar style and material to the one she had worn when she first met George all those years ago. If she closed her eyes she could still see his handsome face in minute detail, from the tiny scar on his top lip that made him appear to smile even when his dark eyes were serious, to the honeyed warmth of his gaze when their eyes first met.
‘Good morning, my lady.’
Belinda turned with a start at the sound of the maid’s voice. Her hand flew to her throat and she felt the colour flood her cheeks as if in thinking of her lover she had been caught out in a naughty deed. She struggled to regain her composure while the maid poured hot chocolate from a silver pot into a bone china cup patterned with violets and rosebuds. A smaller girl wearing a mobcap that was too big for her staggered into the room bearing a ewer filled with steaming water which she placed on the washstand, and stood waiting uncertainly for further instructions.
‘Thank you,’ Belinda said with a vague wave of her hand. ‘That will be all.’
The maids left as quietly as they had entered, leaving Belinda to enjoy her chocolate. She settled down on the window seat, curling her feet beneath her and sipping the hot, sweet drink, but minutes later her husband strode into the room. Startled, Belinda slopped the hot liquid into the saucer. ‘Geoffrey, I didn’t expect to see you this morning.’
He was fully dressed and immaculately turned out as usual. A waft of Macassar oil and sandalwood preceded him as he came to stand at her side. His expression was serious. ‘My dear, I’ve been called to an urgent meeting at the Foreign Office. I’m afraid I won’t be able to take Oliver to the barracks, but I don’t want him to miss his appointment with Colonel Masters.’
Belinda could barely conceal her relief that this incursion into her privacy was for other reasons than the infrequent calls on her marital obligations. She put the cup and saucer down on a side table and smiled at her husband. ‘I can do that for you, Geoffrey. Colonel Masters was a friend of Papa’s and I’m sure he’ll remember me.’
‘No one could forget you, my dear,’ Sir Geoffrey said with an obvious effort to sound gallant, although it was plain that his thoughts were elsewhere. ‘I particularly wanted to see Masters, as I think that Oliver ought to be taken under his wing as soon as possible, but I’ll have to rely upon you, Belinda. I have a particularly delicate political situation to settle which will take hours if not days.’
‘Don’t worry, Geoffrey. Leave it all to me.’
Sir Geoffrey made to leave the room but he paused in the doorway, a frown creasing his brow. ‘There’s just one thing, my dear. I’ve seen a strange child wandering about the house. She seems to be wearing some sort of school uniform therefore I must assume that she isn’t one of our servants.’
Belinda thought quickly. She had hoped that this conversation would not arise and that her husband would be too occupied with political matters to notice one small girl extra in the household. She flashed him a brilliant smile. ‘Oh, dear. You’ve caught me out, Geoffrey. Cassy is one of my charity cases. I invited her here during the school holidays as the poor little thing had nowhere else to go.’
Sir Geoffrey shook his head and it was obvious that this time her smile had failed to charm him. ‘You should have asked me first, Belinda.’
‘But you might have said no.’
‘I most certainly would. You know how I feel about children, and I certainly don’t want my home invaded by street Arabs, however deserving their case may be. It won’t do. If word got out that we were taking in waifs and strays we would have the whole of London’s deserving poor importuning us at every turn. You must find her alternative accommodation as soon as possible.’
‘But, Geoffrey . . .’
‘No, my dear. I’m perfectly happy to indulge your little whims in most cases but not this. Get rid of her. Send her to my sister if you must continue with this act of charity, but do it today.’ He stalked out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
Sir Geoffrey’s carriage drove through the gates of the barracks and to Belinda it felt like a homecoming. The mere sight of the soldiers in their smart uniforms and the sense of orderliness and discipline took her back to her girlhood, and for a moment she forgot her brief contretemps with her husband and her anxiety about Cassy. She gave Oliver a reassuring pat on the knee as she caught his eye and saw that he was apprehensive despite his outward show of bravado. Mahdu sat quietly by her side and Cassy was huddled in the opposite corner of the carriage, peering eagerly out of the window as if she hoped to find her friend amongst the soldiers on parade. Belinda felt her pain as though it were her own. The silken umbilical cord of mother love still bound her to her child, and she wished that she could conjure up the boy, Bailey, but he could be almost anywhere in the world by now.
At that moment the carriage drew to a halt and the groom leapt down to open the door. He pulled down the steps but even before her feet touched the ground Belinda had seen Colonel Masters striding towards them. His booming voice carried across the parade ground as he greeted her. He bowed over her hand, clicking his heels together. ‘Lady Davenport, Belinda, my dear. How splendid it is to see you again after all these years.’
‘It’s good to see you too, Colonel,’ Belinda said, smiling. ‘May I introduce my stepson, Oliver: the young man in question.’
‘How do you do, young man? I’ve heard a great deal about you from your father.’ Colonel Masters eyed Oliver with a speculative stare, as if assessing him from head to toe like a prized stallion in Tattersalls. ‘You look like a promising young fellow. How do you feel about a career in the army?’
Belinda held her breath. If Oliver chose to be difficult it would ruin all his father’s plans, and put an end to his career in the army before it had even begun.
‘I’m sure it would suit me very well, sir,’ Oliver said meekly.
‘Capital. That’s what I wanted to hear.’ Colonel Masters summoned a young lieutenant with an imperious flick of his hand. ‘Carlton, show Mr Davenport around the barracks and the stables. You do ride, I take it, Davenport?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Splendid. I see you’ve come prepared.’ Colonel Masters eyed Oliver’s riding boots and breeches with a nod of approval. ‘Good man. Get him mounted, Carlton. We’ll see how he handles himself on horseback.’
Carlton saluted smartly and led Oliver off in the direction of the stables.
‘Now then, my dear,’ Colonel Masters said, proffering his arm to Belinda. ‘Mrs Masters is eager to see you and I’m certain you have plenty to talk about.’ He angled his head, raising bushy white eyebrows as he stared pointedly at Mahdu and Cassy. ‘I take it this is your maid, but who is the child? Not yours, I should think.’
For a moment Belinda thought she might faint. The Colonel’s jocular comment was too close to the truth for comfort. She fanned herself vigorously. ‘It is rather ho
t in the sun, sir. Might we all go indoors?’
‘Of course. How stupid of me to keep you ladies standing outside in the heat of the day. Come with me and I’ll take you to my quarters.’
Belinda exchanged relieved glances with Mahdu, who took Cassy by the hand as they crossed the parade ground. They entered the Colonel’s private quarters where the air was pleasantly cool, and the mixed scents of lavender and beeswax were complemented by the perfume emanating from a vase of white lilies set on the hall table.
‘Mrs Masters, our guest is here.’ The Colonel’s bellow echoed off the wainscoted walls and caused the lustres on the candle sconces to tinkle like fairy bells.
A door opened and a small, plump lady wearing a grey silk gown hurried out to envelop Belinda in a fond hug. ‘My dear girl, you don’t look a day older than you did ten years ago. I cried at your wedding, you were such a lovely bride.’
‘Never mind that now, Mrs Masters. Our guest is in dire need of rest and refreshment after her carriage ride. I’ve sent Carlton off with the boy, and I’m going out to see how the chap handles a horse.’
‘Yes, of course. Do come into the parlour,’ Mrs Masters said, smiling fondly. ‘It’s good to see you again, Belinda. We have so much to talk about.’ She glanced at Mahdu and if she was surprised to see Cassy standing a little way behind her, she did not bat an eyelid. ‘Your maid and the little one can wait in the kitchen. Martha will make them most welcome. She is an old campaigner like me.’
Belinda had little choice other than to follow her old friend into the small but comfortably furnished parlour. She took a seat at the table where a silver kettle bubbled gently over a tiny spirit stove. Mrs Masters took a seat opposite her and busied herself making tea. ‘Do have a slice of Cook’s Madeira cake, my dear. It’s very good. Martha has been with me since I was a young bride. We’ve been on more campaigns than the Iron Duke himself.’ She chuckled at her own wit as she handed a cup and saucer to Belinda. ‘Now tell me all about yourself. How do you find the life of a diplomat’s wife? I’m sure it must be very interesting. And how is Sir Geoffrey? You made such a good match there. I’m not one to listen to gossip, but I had heard that you were seeing rather a lot of a young Anglo-Indian officer. I’m glad that was just a rumour, my dear. You know how people are about mixed marriages.’
