Another Man's Child

by Anne Bennett

  There was no arguing with that and Janey really didn’t have the right to argue anyway and she opened the door and then went back down to the kitchen to tell Sadie the latest developments.

  Celia wasn’t in the sitting room and so Andy and Norah came face to face with Henry, who crossed the room and said they were more than welcome. He shook hands with Norah and said how lovely it was to meet one of Celia’s sisters and then turned to Andy with his hand outstretched. There was a slight hesitation before Andy took it, but if Henry noticed this he did not remark on it but just shook Andy’s hand warmly as he said, ‘Andy, I owe you a sincere and heartfelt apology for the way I treated you last time we met. There were reasons, which I will explain to you, but the reasons will not be good enough and I am very sorry if my actions caused you hardship in any way.’

  Andy was impressed with the apology for he thought it took guts and especially to do it in front of Norah and not make some bumbling half apology when they were alone. He hated apologising himself – he imagined most people did – and so it shifted his opinion of Henry slightly. So he didn’t say that Henry refusing him work could have easily been the death of him, but said instead, ‘That’s water under the bridge now.’

  ‘It is,’ Henry agreed. ‘But it was very wrong of me so if ever I can make amends for that I will do. In the meantime we would very much like you both to stay and enjoy the superb Sunday dinner that Sadie is cooking at the moment.’

  Neither Andy nor Celia had known what to expect from this meeting and Andy at least had been filled with anxiety and to be invited for a meal, to sit around the table with them, was something he never envisaged. But he was hungry, he had to own, and he saw Norah was little better and the delicious smells coming out of the kitchen were making his mouth water and he said, honestly, ‘Well, sir, I never expected that and I thank you very much for we’d love to stay for dinner and I’m sure I speak for Norah too.’

  ‘Oh, yes please,’ said Norah. ‘It’s a long time since breakfast.’

  As Norah was speaking, Celia came into the room with the baby who had snuggled into her drowsily and she handed her to Henry.

  ‘Will you put her in the crib in the dining room?’ she said. ‘She’s half asleep already.’

  And she turned and first embraced her sister and then turned to face Andy. When Celia just that very morning had read the letter Andy had left she had felt a rush of love for him, for she saw that he had left for her own sake. She appreciated and understood why he’d done what he had and she had imagined she would run into his arms when she saw him again and tell him this. But he didn’t know that she had just read the letter.

  And so Andy was cautious because, even though the baby wasn’t Celia’s and he could now see that for himself, it was no guarantee that there was nothing going on between her and Henry because he thought they seemed very easy with one another. So there was a constraint in him so strong that Celia could feel it and it stopped her going any closer and holding him tight as she wanted to. Had she been able to look into Andy’s mind she would have seen that he was holding back with difficulty. He thought he had been able to forget about her and had told Billy he had, but seeing her again and so close, he knew he loved her more than ever and he had the urge to crush her to him and tell her so.

  ‘Hello Andy,’ Celia said as the silence stretched out and added, as if he was some casual acquaintance she used to vaguely know, ‘It’s good to see you again.’

  Andy opened his mouth to make some sort of reply but it was so dry he doubted he would be able to speak at all, so when he eventually said, ‘Good to see you too,’ it came out like a growl. It was a totally unsatisfactory meeting for both of them and Henry, coming back into the room after tucking Grace into the crib, saw the awkwardness between them.

  However, he could do nothing about it and so he said, ‘Would you all like to come through to the dining room? Dinner is about to be served.’ He led them into a sizable room dominated by a large table laid up for dinner and when at that moment a buxom woman entered carrying a steaming tureen, the smell from it wafting in the air made Andy feel quite faint as he realised just how hungry he really was.

  ‘We would like you and Janey to join us at the table today,’ Henry said as Janey came in with two baskets of bread.

  ‘Oh no, sir,’ Sadie protested as she moved around the table ladling soup into the bowls. ‘Janey and I would be much more comfortable in the kitchen.’

  ‘No doubt,’ Henry said with a smile at them both. ‘But there is a lot to talk about, explanations given, and some of that includes you and Janey. The arrival of Norah and Andy means those explanations are long overdue and as I don’t want to repeat myself I would like you to eat with us today. Janey, would you please lay up two more places?’

  Janey gave a glance at Sadie before she did what Henry asked and Celia saw the cook give a shrug that plainly said, what choice have we? And if she was honest, Sadie was intrigued by what Janey had told her and she would like to get to the bottom of that. She hadn’t long to wait for just a little later, as they sipped the hearty soup mopped up with the equally delicious bread, Celia began her tale.

  TWENTY

  ‘The first thing I have to tell you is that I am no great lady,’ Celia said. ‘I’m sure you both have been confused for I am just the daughter of an Irish farmer. I was born Celia Mulligan eighteen and a half years ago,’ and she went on to explain that she had fallen in love with a hireling boy named Andy McCadden. She explained her father’s reaction when he had found out, which had culminated in locking her in her room. Sometime in the telling, Celia’s hand snaked across the table towards Andy, who was sitting opposite.

  Andy still didn’t know what the situation was between Celia and Henry and did wonder if she was playing some sort of game with him and yet almost of its own accord his hand stretched to meet hers as Janey asked, ‘What’s a hireling man?’

  ‘It’s a man who is employed by another,’ Andy said. ‘I was forced to make my way in the world because I was the second son in our family. But Celia was a farmer’s daughter and I was not good enough for her in her father’s opinion.’

  ‘Seems very harsh,’ Sadie said. ‘The class system is very much in operation here too. I did think that the only good thing that might come from the Great War, when as many officers as men were killed, was that it might have brought about some sort of levelling off of the class system, but the old order soon established itself again and girls from the gentry usually have little choice in their life partner.’

  ‘That’s not all though,’ put in Norah. ‘As well as locking Celia in her room, Daddy tried to bribe Andy to stay away from Celia and when that didn’t work he had him beaten up. Isn’t that right, Andy?’

  ‘Yeah, and they needn’t have bothered because I had already decided to leave. Not because of the bribe – I wouldn’t touch the man’s money – or the threat of violence, but because I thought Celia might have an easier life if I moved away.’

  ‘Had you really decided to do that?’ Celia asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Andy said. ‘I loved you too much to see you suffer because of me and anyway it was a sort of agony to have you so close and not be allowed to even speak to you.’

  There was a pain in Celia’s heart because Andy had used the past tense. He’d said he loved her. She longed to ask him if he still loved her but how could she ask such an intimate question in front of so many people?

  ‘Well,’ Cook said, as she collected up the bowls, ‘I think it’s all very sad if you want the truth and I’d like to hear the rest, but we must get the dinner out now or it will spoil.’

  ‘We’ll all help,’ Norah said, leaping to her feet and catching up the bread baskets.

  ‘Good idea,’ Celia said, withdrawing her hand from Andy’s.

  Immediately Cook looked uncomfortable and disapproving. Until a few minutes before she had thought Celia to be Lady Lewisham and as such it was unthinkable that she would do anything so demeaning as clear the tab
le. Celia, however, laughed when she said this.

  ‘Have you forgotten already?’ she said. ‘I was born Celia Mulligan and, despite all the times my name has been changed, I am still Celia Mulligan, born of good farming stock, but not gentry and not one afraid to get my hands dirty.’

  ‘Celia’s right,’ Henry said. ‘Anyway, today is a sort of special day so you girls do that and I will get the joint and start carving it and maybe Andy can get the dinner plates. It’s best to get the telling and the meal out of the way before Madame wakes up demanding attention.’

  ‘What do you call the baby?’ Andy said, returning from the kitchen with the plates and the girls ran round putting steaming tureens of vegetables and jugs of gravy on the table.

  ‘Grace Catherine,’ Henry said. ‘Catherine after my mother, for all the good it did.’

  ‘Is she Annabel’s child?’

  A shadow passed over Henry’s face but he nodded and added, ‘But I will tell you all about that in due course.’

  A few minutes later, everyone was sitting down to eat and for a moment there was silence broken only by the coals settling in the hearth and the snuffly, gentle breathing of the baby. Suddenly Janey said, ‘And then what happened? How did you get away?’

  Celia began to tell of her escape and Andy added to it now and then and Norah told them of her help in Celia’s escape and then the aftermath of it that they hadn’t been aware of. Celia told of meeting Henry’s real sister Annabel on the boat and tending to her when she had become very seasick and how Annabel had asked her to be her lady’s maid.

  ‘I knew summat was up,’ Janey said to Celia. ‘Because you always looked uncomfortable telling me what to do, as if you wasn’t used to it. You were the same with Sadie. We often spoke of it.’

  ‘There’s a good reason for that,’ Celia commented grimly. ‘And that’s because I have never done anything like that before. I was at the beck and call of everyone else. That being the case I had no problem accepting the post when Annabel asked me to be her lady’s maid. I mean, Andy and I had made no plans as such, had we?’

  Andy shook his head. ‘There was no time really.’

  ‘We did wonder why Annabel was travelling without any sort of attendant,’ Celia said. ‘Because she was of the class that doesn’t usually travel alone. She told me that her previous maid had been taken ill and she had to travel without her because she had to get back to England urgently. It was untrue for there was no lady’s maid and the truth was she shouldn’t have been on the boat returning to England at all.’

  ‘Where should she have been?’ Sadie asked.

  ‘On a train travelling to the west of Ireland to Aunt Agatha,’ said Henry grimly. ‘Our aunt is a religious fanatic who sees sin in the very air we breathe and she’s also nasty and vindictive and would have made Annabel’s life hell on earth. Annabel had obviously decided she couldn’t take it. She had written to me already telling me what had happened and our parents’ reaction. When she heard I was on the way back home she pawned her jewellery to raise enough money for the fare and travelled back on the next boat.’

  ‘And before any of you think badly of Annabel for the condition she was in,’ Celia said, ‘with Henry’s permission I’d like to tell you what terrible thing befell that poor girl and I want to tell it exactly as she told it to me. That all right, Henry?’

  Henry nodded. ‘We agreed no more lies,’ he said and so all there heard of the brutal rape of Annabel Lewisham, daughter of the house, by a man called Charles Timberlake who at the time was a houseguest of her father’s. However, Celia said, ‘Henry, you told me he was a well-known profligate rake. I take it your father would have known that too?’

  Henry nodded his head. ‘Unless he went round with his eyes shut. The man made no secret of it, for Christ’s sake. But because most of his conquests were servant girls and the like, I can only think Father assumed his daughter would be safe from his attentions, but an alley cat has more morals than Timberlake. That being the case, when they discovered Annabel was pregnant, why believe Timberlake’s claim that it was all Annabel’s fault? He said she had teased and enticed him and drew him into her bedroom where she was waiting for him naked!’

  ‘Begging your pardon, sir,’ Sadie said. ‘I only knew your sister for a short time, but I would never believe that she would do that sort of thing. Despite the fact she was pregnant there was a kind of innocence about her. In fact, I said to Janey that I was surprised she was pregnant at all and imagined her husband would have had to be very understanding and gentle with her. She seemed younger than she really was in that way, sir.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Henry. ‘She was, I suppose, because she was given little experience of life. She saw no one and wasn’t even allowed to go to school and so to be taken by force must have been dreadful and yet Timberlake was believed and Annabel banished.’

  ‘Did you change Annabel’s name to protect her?’ Andy asked.

  Henry looked a bit sheepish as he answered, ‘Yes, Celia became Anna Lewisham and Annabel became Cissie McCadden.’

  ‘But why did Annabel become McCadden when I thought Mulligan was Celia’s maiden name?’ Janey asked.

  And then it was Andy’s turn to explain why on the journey they had discussed it and decided that for the sake of Celia’s reputation it might be better if they travelled as brother and sister. ‘That was done to protect Celia because, although I loved her and was prepared to take her to England, I couldn’t risk sullying her reputation in any way.’

  Henry knew what Andy was saying and that was that he hadn’t really touched Celia and he was impressed. Few men would have shown such restraint and he thought Celia’s father mad for going to the lengths he had to keep the young people apart. Owning a farm or business didn’t automatically make a man a good husband and he thought her father should have at least got to know Andy better instead of dismissing him out of hand, though he knew he hadn’t the right to say any of this.

  Andy didn’t know what Henry was thinking but he did know that he was thinking deeply about something so he asked quite gently, ‘Where is Miss Annabel now, sir?’

  ‘She died giving birth to Grace,’ Henry said.

  Andy was shocked and so was Norah. Andy remembered the beautiful young girl, because that’s all she was, and he felt sad that her life should have been snatched away from her so cruelly. He also saw Henry was still badly affected by his sister’s death, and he thought that understandable, and Celia too who had worked with her so closely. ‘That was a terrible thing to happen,’ he said sincerely to Henry. ‘I am so very sorry and you must miss her too, Celia.’

  Celia nodded, unable to speak for a moment as the sympathy in Andy’s voice caused tears to flood her eyes. And then she swallowed and said, ‘I did and it was quite an intense friendship for we were together so much. She was very scared of the future – she spoke of that often.’

  ‘The birth, d’you mean?’ Norah asked.

  Celia nodded. ‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘She was worried about that, but she was also worried about what would happen after the birth.’

  ‘What could happen?’

  ‘Well this doesn’t happen very often,’ Henry said. ‘But sometimes, even in the upper classes, if a lady has been less than discreet and a child is the result, that child is then usually given to someone on the estate to bring up as their own. They don’t lose by it, they are well rewarded.’

  Norah stared at Henry as if she couldn’t believe her ears. ‘Everyone loses by it, can’t you see?’ she said. ‘The baby is taken from the mother. Does anyone ask her how she feels about that? Is she given a choice?’

  ‘Not usually, I suppose,’ Henry admitted. ‘Like I said though it very seldom happens.’

  ‘Even once is too much,’ Norah maintained. ‘Quite apart from the mother, think of the couple. I would hazard a guess that that child wouldn’t get the best of upbringing foisted on people who didn’t want a child. But they could hardly say for they couldn’t risk upsetting the gent
ry who they often rely on for employment and a roof over their head.’

  The baby began to fidget and protest in the crib and Celia picked her out and with the baby in her arms said, ‘And what of the child? Think, if it had been Grace lodged with some cottager, would she have the sort of schooling to fit her for society? And what would that society be? Would she ever be told who her true parents were, and if so, mightn’t she resent the upbringing she had and the fact that she would have to travel rootless through life?’

  ‘You know, I never thought of any of this and you are so right,’ Henry said. ‘And really I don’t know what the answer is because if it is common knowledge that the woman has had a child out of wedlock then her life’s over.’

  Celia nodded. ‘Annabel once said to me that she hoped her child would die. I was shocked and she said she thought it was the only way she would be accepted back home and have any sort of life, any future at all. She didn’t think of the child or even see it as a flesh-and-blood little person who would have feelings of its own. Point is,’ she went on, ‘I don’t think it would matter what she did, she would never be accepted back. In their eyes she had sinned and that was it, or maybe in their heart of hearts they knew she was innocent and to allow her to live back at the house again would have reminded them what they had done to their own daughter on a daily basis. We went up to the house today because Henry had this crackpot idea that his parents might have made some arrangements for the child.’

  ‘Did you think it a crackpot idea?’ Henry said.

  ‘Course I did,’ Celia said. ‘Why, didn’t you? Think about it, Henry. All the time Annabel was here they never seemed to care about her at all. I would never have left a vulnerable young child in their care.’