Miss Mary’s Daughter

by Diney Costeloe

  ‘What makes you say all this?’ demanded Nan.

  Sophie picked up the letter again and read: ‘Albert is not happy with the situation (I am not allowed out of the house or even out of my room if there is company), but he has agreed to let me stay until my confinement, after which, I understand, the baby will be given away. She was only there on sufferance, Nan, and was afraid of losing her baby.’ Sophie continued to read: ‘I had thought it would be better for him... or her, do you mind which? to be born here among family rather than in lodgings somewhere, so I’ve been behaving as Albert and Hetty require, but, as I have now learned their plan, dear Joss, do come and fetch me as soon as you can. I will not – the not is underlined three times, Nan – give up our child to strangers. I am determined that we three shall be together as a family. Surely your father will eventually come round to our marriage, but if not, well, you will be of age in November, and I am already cast out by my father, so we should be able to marry before the child is born without anyone gainsaying us. Is that the letter to make a man commit suicide, Nan?’

  Nan made no reply, so Sophie went on, ‘And finally, a letter that Cassie never received.’ Sophie picked up the half-finished letter she had found in the drawer of Jocelyn’s desk, and began to read the part explaining that Mary had offered them a home and a place for the baby to be born, and the final sentence, ‘I shall come and fetch you from Truro as soon as I am twenty-one and can obtain a special licence for our marriage. What a wonderful day that will be. I think...

  ‘Cassie never received that letter because Jocelyn never sent it,’ Sophie said. ‘It was unfinished, indeed, as you hear, he must have been interrupted for he broke off mid-sentence.’

  ‘So, where did you get it?’ demanded Nan.

  ‘I found it in the drawer of Jocelyn’s desk.’

  ‘You found it? After nearly thirty years?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And why wasn’t it found before?’

  ‘Because,’ Sophie said, ‘when Jocelyn died, his father had his room sealed up and no one has been allowed into it since the night Jocelyn left it.’

  ‘No one?’ Nan sounded incredulous.

  ‘No one,’ repeated Sophie firmly.

  ‘So, how did you get into it?’ Nan’s tone was still aggressive.

  ‘I have the adjoining room,’ Sophie said. ‘I found a key to the connecting door.’ No need, she decided, to go into explanations about moving the wardrobe. ‘And as I said, the other letters were in my mother’s bureau, so I have managed to piece together much of the correspondence.’

  Nan looked at her and seemed to reach some sort of decision. ‘Why do you want to know all this now? Why dig it all up again? They’re all dead, even your grandfather, who probably is as much to blame in this as anyone. There’s nothing to be gained by raking it all over again.’

  ‘But they’re not all dead,’ Sophie replied. ‘What about Cassie? What about the baby?’

  ‘Cassie died in childbirth,’ Nan said flatly.

  ‘Cassie died?’

  ‘The baby come early... and that was my fault.’

  ‘Your fault?’

  ‘When the news of Jocelyn’s death reached me I knew I had to be the one to break the news to Cassie. The only other person they allowed near her was her brother, Edwin. Nasty piece of work, he was. I didn’t want him telling her, nor any of her other family neither. Triumphant, they’d be, pleased he was dead, and serve ’im right. That’s what they’d have told her.’

  ‘So you went to tell her.’

  ‘Yes. At first she thought I’d brought another letter, probably the one you found in his desk, telling her what he’d arranged and when he’d be coming to fetch her. She was so pleased to see me and then she realized there was something wrong, and I had to tell her.’ Nan’s voice broke at the memory of that day. ‘I had to tell her he wouldn’t be coming for her, ever; that he was dead. She collapsed into a swoon and though the baby wasn’t due for another four weeks or so, she went into early labour.’

  ‘And she died?’ murmured Sophie.

  ‘The baby was the wrong way round. At first her sister’s husband wouldn’t let them send for a doctor. He didn’t want it to be known that he had given shelter to an unmarried woman about to give birth. I was there, and Henrietta and I struggled to help Cassie for hours, but it was no good. When at last Henrietta went against her husband and sent a maid for the doctor, it was too late. Cassie was exhausted from her struggle and her pain. She had lost a lot of blood. The baby was finally born and though very small, seemed healthy enough, but Cassie never recovered. She developed a fever and died a day later.’

  ‘But that wasn’t your fault!’ exclaimed Sophie. ‘That was the fault of her brother-in-law who wouldn’t let Henrietta send for the doctor. Why wouldn’t he?’

  ‘He was muttering that the difficult delivery was God’s punishment to Cassie for having the baby in the first place. I heard later that her own father said the same.’

  ‘But that is dreadful,’ cried Sophie, appalled. ‘Was there no Christian charity?’

  ‘They gave her a Christian burial,’ Nan replied bleakly. ‘That was all.’

  ‘And the baby, what about the baby?’

  ‘He stayed with the family. Henrietta was barren and didn’t have no children, and she begged her husband that they should keep the baby as their own. She loved him, but Albert only tolerated him. They moved from Truro to Plymouth, where no one would know them or know that the child was not theirs. He grew up and went to school there. As soon as he was old enough to fend for himself, Albert sent him away to learn a trade to keep him.’

  ‘But where is he now? Do his parents know?’

  ‘His parents are dead. They were caught in a flu epidemic that swept through Plymouth some years ago. I heard he went to London, but after the birth and Cassie’s death, I was forbidden to set foot in their house. I knew too much about them all and I’ve never seen them since.’

  ‘But if they had carried through their plans, Cassie and Jocelyn, they’d have been married before the child was born. He would not have been illegitimate and,’ Sophie’s eyes widened as the thought struck her, ‘and my grandfather would have had a legitimate grandson and a male heir.’

  ‘As to that,’ Nan said wearily, ‘who knows what that old bugger would have done?’

  Sophie felt exhausted, too. ‘I don’t know what to think,’ she admitted. ‘It’s going to take time to come to terms with all this. Do you think my grandfather knew that Cassie was delivered of a boy?’

  Nan shrugged. ‘Who knows,’ she said again.

  ‘Maybe he did,’ Sophie said. ‘Maybe that’s why he sealed up Jocelyn’s room. Because he thought Joss had killed himself and Thomas knew he shared some of the blame.’

  A silence fell round them. The last piece of wood slipped into the fire with a shower of sparks and Sophie suddenly realized how dark it had become outside. It was still only the middle of the day, but the sun had disappeared and a chilly wind was rattling the single kitchen window.

  ‘I must go,’ she said, starting to her feet. ‘I must get back.’

  ‘Have you got what you came for?’ Nan asked, the aggression creeping back in her voice. ‘Are you satisfied with what you’ve heard? It’s all such a long time ago, I hope you’ll leave it alone now, and leave the dead to bury the dead.’

  ‘I suppose we’ll never know what really happened to Jocelyn,’ Sophie said. ‘Perhaps, after all, the Penvarrows were right and it was simply a terrible accident.’

  ‘That’s probably it,’ Nan agreed, but she didn’t meet Sophie’s eye. Sophie thought there was more to tell, but she knew she had to go or risk being caught in the incoming mist. ‘May I come and see you again?’ she asked.

  ‘If you must,’ Nan said ungraciously. ‘And you can bring me some wood. Food I can manage, but I’ve nothing for the fire ’cept for the sticks the innkeeper’s lad collects me from the wood on the hill an’ I’m always cold.’

 
As Sophie rode away, Nan watched her from the cottage door. There were times as she’d been speaking when Sophie could have been Jocelyn, not just in looks, but in the turn of her head, and the flash of her eyes, the directness of her speech. Nan closed the door and returned to her rocking chair. She had kept faith. She had told the story of Jocelyn and Cassie, but today she too had learned something she hadn’t known before. She had been the go-between, but she had never read any of the letters she carried. She might have been tempted to do so, but she’d only had minimum schooling and could scarcely read and write her own name. She had never seen Cassie read one of the letters she brought. Cassie had always tucked them away safely to read when she knew she wouldn’t be disturbed and discovered. Nan delivered Cassie’s letters to Joss and for every one she brought he gave her a half-sovereign. Nan had never been so well off, and though she had never truly believed that Jocelyn would marry Cassie, she continued to carry their letters. She had been the one to bring the news of Jocelyn’s death, but by the time she had learned the truth of it from Edwin, Cassie was dying and Nan had not told her.

  As she sat rocking herself before the embers in the grate, Nan wished Sophie had never come, bringing the letters with her and opening old wounds. If Sophie called again, Nan decided, she would say no more.

  30

  Charles spent the morning working in his office. There was so much to consider now that he had the freedom to conduct all the Trescadinnick business. Until recently Thomas had held the purse strings and had the final say, and he had refused to countenance some of Charles’s more progressive ideas. He’d known things had to change, but he was reluctant to put such changes into motion. He had capital invested, but as he had grown older he had become less and less willing to take risks with it. When Charles finally looked up from the mass of papers on his desk, he realized that the morning had passed and the brightness of the day with it. Coils of mist were beginning to drift past his window and he suddenly thought of Sophie. Was she back yet? He glanced at his watch and found that it was almost time for the midday meal. He left the study and went out into the hall. He could hear women’s voices in the kitchen and sighed with relief; she must be back already. However, just to reassure himself, without drawing attention to his fears, he went out to the stable yard where he found Ned, mucking out one of the stables.

  A quick glance showed him that Millie’s stall was empty and turning to Ned, he said as casually as he could, ‘Miss Sophie not back yet, Ned?’

  ‘No, sir,’ Ned replied.

  ‘Did she say where she was going?’

  ‘No, sir, not my business to ask, sir.’ Ned scratched his head and added, ‘She had a basket with her. Like Mrs Leroy takes with her when she’s visiting.’

  ‘I see,’ said Charles. But he didn’t. Who on earth would Sophie be visiting with a basket? His mother sometimes visited in the outlying cottages, taking gifts of food to the ill and the elderly, but who would Sophie know?

  ‘Saddle Hector for me,’ Charles instructed and with that he hurried back into the house. He found Louisa and Mrs Paxton in the kitchen.

  ‘Sophie’s not back and the mist’s coming in,’ he told them. ‘Did she say where she was going?’

  Louisa looked up in surprise. ‘Not back from where?’

  ‘She went out this morning. Took Millie and rode off. The mist’s coming down and she may get lost. So do you know who she was going to visit?’

  ‘I didn’t know she was out,’ said Louisa. ‘She doesn’t tell me what she’s doing.’

  ‘Where’s Hannah?’ demanded Charles. ‘Perhaps she’ll know.’

  ‘She’s up in the schoolroom with AliceAnne,’ said Louisa. ‘I’ll go and find her.’

  ‘Excuse me, Mr Charles.’ Mrs Paxton spoke softly as if not wishing to interrupt. ‘When Miss Sophie took the bread and cheese, I gave her some broth to take as well.’

  ‘Yes?’ Charles spoke briskly.

  ‘She said she thought Mrs Slater would like it. That must be where she went. To visit Mrs Slater.’

  ‘Nan Slater over at Tremose?’

  ‘I assumed so, sir.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Paxton,’ Charles said. ‘I’ll ride over that way and see if I can find her.’

  As he was mounting Hector in the stable yard, a distraught Hannah came running out from the kitchen. ‘Mrs Leroy says Sophie’s missing.’

  ‘Not missing, Hannah.’ Charles tried to sound reassuring. ‘She went riding and now the mist is coming in, I’m going out to meet her.’

  ‘Oh thank you, sir.’ Hannah’s relief was obvious. ‘Bring her home safe.’

  ‘I will,’ promised Charles.

  But Hannah was still anxious as she watched Charles ride out of the yard, to be swallowed up in the creeping mist.

  *

  The sky was already darkening when Sophie had left Nan Slater’s cottage and set off back to Trescadinnick. Her mind was a-whirl as she thought of all she had learned from Nan that morning. She’d received answers to her questions, but those answers posed further questions. As she reached the crossroads just outside Tremose, her mind replaying their conversation, she took a wrong track and had gone some way before, looking down at the grey blanket gradually spreading below her, she realized she’d gone wrong and was heading up onto the moor. At once she turned back, letting Millie pick her way down the hill, until she recognized a fallen tree where the paths divided and this time took the right direction. It was only just after midday, but the afternoon seemed to be closing in and though she could still see her way, following the well-worn track, she was aware of the mist beginning to steal around her. She longed to hurry as the mist thickened, but the track was uneven and she dared not even break into a trot, for fear that Mille might stumble, or worse still that they might leave the track and miss their way entirely.

  Charles’s words of warning echoed in her head; It can change very quickly in this part of the world. Sun one minute, thick mist the next. If that happens seek shelter if you can. If not, let the mare bring you home.

  Well, Sophie thought shakily, there’s no shelter, so I’ll have to keep going and rely on Millie.

  It was then that she heard him call, his voice muffled in the shifting mist. ‘Sophie! Sophie! Where are you?’

  In the fog that now surrounded her it was almost impossible to know from which direction the call came, but she pulled Millie up and listened. When he called again she gave an answering cry. ‘Charles! I’m here.’

  ‘Stay where you are,’ he shouted, his voice sounding closer now. ‘Stay where you are, keep calling and I’ll come to you.’

  ‘I’m here,’ she called again. ‘I’m here.’

  Within minutes a shape loomed out of the mist and she could see Charles, mounted on Hector, coming towards her.

  ‘Sophie! Thank God!’ Charles rode to her side and she could see the mixture of anxiety and relief in his eyes. ‘Are you all right? Where on earth have you been? Hannah’s worried sick.’

  Determined not to show that she had been afraid, Sophie answered briskly. ‘She didn’t need to be. Of course I’m all right. As you see, I’m on my way home.’ Then, as she saw his expression harden, she added, ‘But thank you for coming to find me, Charles.’

  Charles reached over and taking hold of Millie’s bridle, started to lead her back through the mist. ‘Where’ve you been, Sophie?’ he asked as they walked along the track.

  ‘If it’s any business of yours, I’ve been visiting old Mrs Slater in Tremose.’

  ‘But why her?’ Charles sounded confused. ‘What made you go there?’

  ‘I visited her when I went with Nicholas on his rounds that afternoon. She asked me to come back and see her again, so I did.’ When this was greeted with silence she went on defensively, ‘It was such a lovely day and I had nothing else to do. It seemed a good opportunity. She’s a widow and on her own while her son is away at sea in some ship, The Minerva, I think she said, and so I took her a little extra food.’

  ‘I see.�
�� Charles’s voice was cold, but apparently unaware of this Sophie continued, ‘But what she really needs is coal, or anyway, something to burn as fuel. Perhaps we could send Paxton over with some logs.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Charles said. ‘But really, Sophie, if you intend to keep riding out by yourself, you should at least let us know where you’re going.’

  ‘I don’t see why,’ Sophie snapped. ‘It’s none of your business where I go or what I do, is it?’

  ‘No,’ conceded Charles. ‘All that interests me is your safety.’ He let go of Millie’s bridle and moved ahead on the track, leaving Sophie to follow him through the mist, and they rode in silence back to Trescadinnick.

  When Sophie went up to her room to change out of her riding habit, Hannah greeted her with a great scolding, as a mother will when a child has put herself in danger. ‘Whatever was you thinking about, Miss Sophie, riding out by yourself without a word to no one about where you was going? If Mr Charles hadn’t come out to find you goodness knows what might have happened to you in that fog.’

  ‘I was quite safe, Hannah,’ Sophie assured her. ‘Millie was bringing me home.’

  ‘Relying on a horse!’ scoffed Hannah. ‘Mr Charles was right worried about you.’

  ‘Mr Charles had no need to be,’ retorted Sophie. ‘He is not my keeper. I’m a woman grown, not a child.’

  ‘Then it’s time you stopped behaving like one,’ said Hannah quietly.

  Sophie stared at her. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I said, stop behaving like one. It seems to me, Miss Sophie, that this inheritance business has gone to your head,’ Hannah said. ‘You’re getting too big for your boots and it don’t become you.’

  Sophie felt her cheeks redden and she hissed, ‘How dare you, Hannah!’

  ‘I dare, Miss Sophie, because I’ve knowed you all your life and your ma asked me to look after you. If I don’t tell you truths, no one else will.’