A Mother's Secret

by Dilly Court

  ‘Look, Cass,’ Lottie whispered, tugging at her sleeve. ‘There in the front row; I do believe that’s your grand lady.’

  Holding her breath and hardly daring to hope, Cassy craned her neck to get a better view through a forest of large hats and bald pates. Her heart gave a little leap inside her chest as Lady Davenport seemed to sense her presence, turning her head to look directly at her and smiling.

  ‘Take your seats, and wait for your name to be called,’ Miss Stanhope said, pointing to where the other girls were sitting demurely with their hands folded in their laps.

  ‘Yes, Miss Stanhope.’ The response was automatic and both Cassy and Lottie obeyed her instructions, moving swiftly to sit at the end of the row. Cassy fixed her gaze upon Lady Davenport’s perfect profile beneath a confection of flowers, ribbons and lace that perched on top of her golden hair, coiled and piled high on her head. The soft curve of her cheek and the tenderness of her lips, parted slightly in a half-smile as she listened to the headmistress speaking at length, made her stand out amongst the other matrons as a vision of loveliness. Cassy was eager to speak to her patron but Miss North droned on and on about the achievement of her pupils, and the moral values that she had endeavoured to instil into girls who were now a credit to their school.

  The parents and guardians listened politely but after ten minutes they began shifting slightly on their hard wooden seats, and shuffling their feet. When someone coughed there was a veritable chorus of throat clearing, with a couple of stifled sneezes thrown in for good measure.

  At long last Miss North seemed to realise that she had lost the attention of her captive audience and she began calling the girls one by one to collect their diplomas.

  By the time she reached Cassy, who was last on the list, Cassy barely had time to take the scroll from Miss North’s claw-like hand before the room erupted in a burst of noisy chatter as the girls were reunited with their families. Cassy threaded her way between groups of parents and daughters hugging and embracing each other and talking nineteen to the dozen. At first she could not see Lady Davenport and a feeling close to panic engulfed her. She felt suddenly like a small child who had lost her mother in a crowd. Perhaps Lady Davenport had decided not to linger, having stayed just long enough to see her protégée receive her diploma. Maybe Sir Geoffrey was waiting outside and they had already driven off in their carriage.

  ‘Cassy, my dear. Congratulations.’

  Cassy spun round and came face to face with her mentor. Six years ago she would have been looking up at Lady Davenport, but now they were roughly the same height and she was looking into a pair of smiling blue eyes. ‘You came,’ she murmured.

  ‘Of course I did. I wouldn’t allow an important day like today to go unmarked, Cassy. You’ve done so well and I’m proud of you.’

  The urge to hug Lady Davenport and kiss her scented cheek was almost too much for Cassy but somehow she managed to stop herself. She was suddenly tongue-tied and did not know what to say. She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks and she clasped her hands behind her back, digging her fingernails into her palms to prevent herself from crying. So this was it. She had come to the end of her schooldays and this would almost certainly be the last time she would see Lady Davenport.

  ‘Why are you looking so sad,’ Belinda demanded, her smile fading. ‘Is something wrong, my dear?’

  ‘No. I mean, yes. I don’t know, my lady.’

  ‘Come with me, Cassy. It’s so noisy in here that I can’t hear myself think, let alone speak.’ Lady Davenport started making her way to the door which led out into the hall but she paused as Lottie pushed through the crowd calling Cassy’s name.

  ‘Cass, you can’t leave without saying goodbye.’

  ‘This must be your special friend, with whom you spend your holidays,’ Lady Davenport said, apparently unperturbed by the interruption. ‘Won’t you introduce us, Cassy dear?’

  ‘Yes, my lady.’ Cassy racked her brains in an attempt to recall something from one of Miss North’s interminable lessons on etiquette. ‘May I present Charlotte Solomon, ma’am.’

  Lady Davenport embraced Lottie with a smile. ‘How do you do, Charlotte? I’m delighted to meet you at long last.’

  Bobbing a rather wobbly curtsey, Lottie glanced anxiously over her shoulder as her father barged his way between rows of empty chairs, knocking one over in his haste to join them, but once again Lady Davenport took matters in her stride. She turned to him holding out her hand. ‘You must be Charlotte’s father. I’ve never been able to thank you for your kindness to Cassy, but I do so now with all my heart.’

  Eli Solomon peered myopically through the thick lenses of his spectacles and his lined face broke into a wide smile as he took her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘I’m honoured to meet you, my lady. Cassy has always spoken of you with great affection.’

  Lottie nudged Cassy in the ribs. ‘She’s so beautiful, Cass. You didn’t do her justice.’

  ‘I know,’ Cassy said, relaxing for the first time since she had received her diploma. ‘She’s an angel. I’ve always told you that.’

  ‘I hope one day to be able to repay your kindness to Cassy,’ Lady Davenport said with obvious sincerity. ‘If I were to send an invitation for you to take tea with us one day, I hope you would be in a position to accept.’

  Cassy could only think that Lady Davenport was being gracious, and that Mr Solomon would accept out of politeness knowing that such an event was unlikely to happen. But a quick glance in his direction revealed a man struck almost dumb by Lady Davenport’s charm and beauty. He was smiling broadly, exposing great gaps between his teeth, and nodding his head.

  ‘Come along, Papa,’ Lottie said, taking him by the arm. ‘I think we should go now.’ She raised her hand to pat Cassy on the shoulder. ‘We’ll wait for you outside, Cass.’

  ‘Do by all means,’ Lady Davenport said, acknowledging Eli’s constant nodding with a slight inclination of her head and a smile. ‘But Cassy will be coming home with me today. However, that doesn’t mean to say that she cannot visit you in Whitechapel whenever she wants.’

  ‘Thank you, my lady,’ Eli murmured, gazing at her as if he could not bear to look away.

  ‘Come, Papa,’ Lottie said firmly, giving Cassy a meaningful glance as she led him away. ‘I’ll see you in a minute, Cass.’

  Cassy turned to her mentor with a puzzled frown. ‘Am I to go with you, my lady?’

  ‘I would have come to see you sooner, but for matters beyond my control. However, if you are agreeable I would like you to be my personal maidservant. It’s what I planned all along, and something that I know would please Mahdu, God rest her soul. I miss her very much, Cassy. She was an important part of my life, and yours too.’

  Cassy could hold back no longer. ‘She said she wasn’t my mother.’

  Lady Davenport’s eyes clouded and her sunny smile faded. ‘My carriage is waiting outside. We can speak more freely there. I’ve instructed Potter to fetch your luggage.’ She hurried from the dining hall and Cassy was left with no other option than to follow her. She found Lottie waiting on the pavement outside while her father attempted to hail a passing hansom cab.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ Lottie asked anxiously.

  ‘I think so. I’m to be her maid. It’s more than I could have hoped for.’ Cassy gave her a quick hug. ‘I have to go now but I’ll try to keep in touch.’

  ‘You know where we live,’ Lottie called after her as Cassy quickened her pace in order to keep up with Lady Davenport, who by this time had almost reached the carriage which was waiting a little way down the hill. Potter leapt off the box to open the door.

  When they were settled inside and the carriage was in motion, Lady Davenport broke the silence with an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry if I appeared a little abrupt, Cassy. But Mahdu was more than just a servant; she was my friend and lifelong companion. She knew me better than anyone.’

  ‘But she wasn’t my mother.’

  ‘No, my de
ar. She was not.’

  ‘Did you know my real mother?’

  ‘I knew her a long time ago, but that’s all I can tell you. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it must be.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘The secret is not entirely mine to reveal, but maybe one day I’ll be able to tell you the truth. Until then I must keep silent, but I will look after you, Cassy. You’ll be at my side as Mahdu was, and I will make sure that you are always treated well.’

  Cassy was silent, considering this puzzling response to her question, but there did not seem very much she could say. Her future appeared to have been decided for her and she could scarcely have hoped for such an outcome as to be taken under Lady Davenport’s wing. Even so, she was troubled, and the mystery of her parentage seemed even less likely to be resolved. Lost in her thoughts, she stared out of the window, barely noticing the buildings and traffic as the carriage made its way through the crowded street.

  The smell of horse dung, rotting vegetables and sewage was enough to make Lady Davenport take a handkerchief impregnated with lavender oil from her reticule and hold it to her nose, but Cassy barely noticed the stench. If anything it reminded her of her childhood in Three Herring Court, and although her memories of that time were less than happy, they were made bearable by the fact that Bailey had always been there to look after her. It was four years since she last saw him, just before the 13th Hussars were drafted to India to fight the war against the Afghans. She had received the occasional missive from him, but his letters were few and far between. They were always brief and to the point, and did very little to heal the ache of separation. She had been able to take some comfort from the knowledge that he had been alive and well when he had written to her from Lucknow some weeks previously. He had reiterated his promise that they would make a home together when he returned to England, adding with some pride that he was up for promotion to the rank of corporal.

  ‘We’re here,’ Lady Davenport announced as the carriage slowed down and came to a halt. ‘Keep with me, Cassy. The servants have been told that there is to be a new member of staff, and that is all they need to know.’

  Peering out of the window Cassy was surprised to find herself staring at Mrs Montessori’s butler, Poulton. ‘We’re not in South Audley Street,’ she said, puzzled.

  ‘No. The house has been shut up for some time now.’ Lady Davenport gathered her skirts around her, avoiding meeting Cassy’s enquiring gaze. ‘Sir Geoffrey has been abroad for many months and it was more convenient for me to remove to Duke Street. It’s purely temporary, but we’re the guests of my sister-in-law. It works very well.’ She stepped down from the carriage, assisted by Potter.

  Cassy followed her, receiving a stony stare from Mrs Montessori’s groom. It was only now that she recognised him as being a member of the staff who had treated her with such disdain all those years ago, but she had been too wrapped up in her own affairs to notice such details. ‘Good afternoon, Potter,’ she said politely.

  He sniffed, staring straight ahead. Cassy smothered a sigh of resignation. So that was how it would be from now on. She had suffered the prejudice and bigotry of the servants during her last stay in this house, and it seemed certain now that nothing had changed. She raised her chin and marched up the steps, following her new mistress into the entrance hall where Poulton received them with an ingratiating smile for her ladyship, completely ignoring Cassy.

  ‘Is Signora Montessori at home, Poulton?’

  ‘No, my lady. Madam went out to luncheon and has not yet returned.’

  Lady Davenport acknowledged his words with a gracious nod of her head. She swept past him and ascended the stairs with Cassy hurrying after her.

  The house was much the same as it had been when Cassy was employed there as a maid, although she had seen little of the upper floors. Lady Davenport’s bedchamber was on the second floor, overlooking the courtyard garden and the mews beyond. It was a large room, as befitted her status in the household, and elegantly furnished in the Regency style. Cassy could not help but be impressed. After the starkness of the school dormitory this room seemed the height of opulence and luxury. The cream and blue curtains and bed hangings were of finest silk damask, and the carpet was delicately patterned with flowers and foliage in matching shades.

  ‘It’s a lovely room,’ Cassy said in answer to Lady Davenport’s amused glance. ‘Better than the one you had in the other house.’

  ‘I’m glad you think so, but as I said, it’s only temporary. It’s my hope that we’ll return home very soon.’ Lady Davenport crossed the floor in quick agitated steps, a fact that was not lost on Cassy. She flung open a door on the far side of the room. ‘This is my dressing room, and it’s where you will sleep. There’s a couch which I think might do for the time being at least. I want you to have as little to do with the other servants as possible, Cassy. Do you understand?’

  Recalling the treatment she had received as a terrified ten-year-old from Nancy and some of the other servants, Cassy was only too pleased to concur. ‘Yes, my lady.’

  ‘And we must get you fitted out with a suitable uniform. You can’t go around dressed like a schoolgirl. In fact, I think we’ll go shopping now. I won’t bother to change my gown, but when we return you will help me dress for dinner. It’s always a long and tedious affair in this house. Flora still crams the place with guests. It’s no wonder that Leonardo spends most of his time in his club.’ She studied her reflection in the cheval mirror, adjusting the angle of her hat and smoothing the creases from her skirts. ‘I think we’ll walk to Oxford Street. It’s not very far and I’m sure the exercise will be beneficial. We will walk and talk without being overheard by anyone who matters. You can tell me all about yourself. You’ll find me a very good listener.’

  To her surprise, Cassy found that Lady Davenport had spoken the truth. By the time they had reached Peter Robinson’s store in Oxford Street, Cassy had told her everything there was to tell about life in Miss North’s Academy for Young Ladies and of the happy times she had spent in Whitechapel with Lottie and her father. Her story came to a faltering halt as they were seized upon by an imposing woman who welcomed them to the store and enquired as to their needs. It seemed that Lady Davenport was a valued customer and they were escorted from one department to another. Chairs were produced for their comfort while Lady Davenport made her selection and minions were sent scampering off to pack her purchases.

  After the serious business of buying garments suitable for a lady’s maid, Cassy was surprised and delighted when Lady Davenport insisted that she should have a print gown for Sunday best and encouraged her to choose undergarments made of fine cotton lawn, trimmed with broderie anglaise. It was obvious from the raised eyebrows of the shop assistant that such items were considered far too good for a servant, and she had the temerity to suggest that perhaps calico might be more serviceable, only to be put down sharply by Lady Davenport. Overwhelmed by such generosity, Cassy was almost speechless. By the end of the afternoon she found herself the proud possessor not only of practical everyday wear, but of a brand new pair of black leather boots which fitted perfectly, a fine woollen mantle for winter wear and a cashmere shawl that was as soft as gossamer. If the shop assistant had thoughts about these extravagant purchases she kept them to herself this time, merely enquiring whether the packages were to be taken to Madam’s carriage or delivered to her home. Cassy would gladly have carried them all, even if some had to be strapped to her back, but it was decided that the goods should be delivered to Duke Street. Then, declaring herself to be completely exhausted, Lady Davenport insisted on taking Cassy to Brown’s Hotel for afternoon tea.

  ‘I am not generally known here,’ she said with a mischievous smile. ‘We can pretend that you are my daughter and I am taking you out for a special treat. It could be a birthday or some other anniversary, or maybe to celebrate your leaving school with a diploma, which is true.’

  Cassy took a seat at the table, glancing round nervously.
‘I don’t think Sir Geoffrey or his sister would approve. I should really wait outside.’

  ‘What nonsense. Geoffrey is in Brussels and Flora would think it a great lark. At least she isn’t stuffy, although poor thing she’s made a dreadful mistake in marrying the Italian.’ Lady Davenport leaned across the table, lowering her voice. ‘Her husband is a charming rogue with a penchant for the gaming tables. Apparently he was penniless when she married him, although she did not know it at the time. I fear he will run through her fortune, gambling it away as he did his own considerable inheritance.’

  Cassy glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was listening, but the waiters were fully occupied and the other patrons appeared to be deep in conversation. Even so, such confidences made her feel uneasy. ‘I’m not sure you should be telling me this, ma’am.’

  Lady Davenport tossed her head and laughed. ‘You’re forgetting our game, Cassy. You are my daughter and I can say anything I like.’ She looked up as a waiter appeared at her elbow, hovering like a crow in his black swallow-tail coat. ‘Tea for two,’ she said, beaming up at him. ‘I would like Earl Grey but my daughter prefers Darjeeling. Isn’t that so, Cassandra?’

  Cassy nodded her head, hardly daring to look at the waiter in case he saw her for what she was, but he was obviously too well trained to show any emotion and he simply bowed and glided away, returning moments later with a silver cake stand laden with tiny bite-sized sandwiches and pastries oozing with cream. She realised suddenly that she was extremely hungry and her hand shot out to take a sandwich but she hesitated, not wanting to appear greedy. She met Lady Davenport’s twinkling eyes and suddenly she was at her ease.

  ‘Help yourself, my dear. I doubt if we’ll be able to do this again, so let’s enjoy ourselves.’ Lady Davenport selected a cucumber sandwich and took a bite, smiling with approval as Cassy tucked into her meal. ‘When we are in company I will have to treat you quite differently, but I want you to know that I am very fond of you, Cassy. If it were in my power I would adopt you as my daughter and bring you out into society, but I’m afraid that’s simply not possible.’