‘Hush, Kate,’ whispered her mama, urgently. ‘It is most impolite to laugh at another person’s misfortunes.’ Then, turning a bright smile upon Georgiana, and providing Maggie with a friendly nod, she said blithely, more loudly this time: ‘Good day to you, Mrs Wright. I hope I find you well? It is a lovely day for September, to be sure.’
Kate and Augusta were eyeing each other a little suspiciously from behind the skirts of their respective mamas.
‘Oh, my dear Mrs Berkeley.’ Mrs William had apparently determined on brazening the whole thing out. ‘Indeed it is – and so refreshing to have the breeze as well as the sun.’
‘I do not think you have met my daughter, Katerina,’ went on Mrs Berkeley, determinedly, ignoring both the mess on the lady’s shoulder and the faces that Augusta had started to pull at them both. ‘She was named after Mr Berkeley’s mama. She was a foreign lady, you know. Kate, curtsy nicely to Mrs Wright. Mrs Wright is a sort of sister to your Aunt Jane – so I suppose that she must be a sort of aunt to you as well.’
Kate curtsied dutifully to the rather plump but severe-looking lady who towered above her, though she could not quite help her eyes from focusing on the ugly white pattern on her epaulette.
Mrs William was overwhelmed by Mrs Berkeley’s condescension in acknowledging this exceedingly close relationship between them.
‘Oh yes, to be sure – I should be delighted to be thought of as Kate’s Aunt. Such a delightful little girl, Mrs Berkeley,’ shooting the child a particularly vicious glare, ‘and so like you I should have known her anywhere.’
‘Yes...well... I do beg your pardon, Mrs Wright, but we must be hurrying along. We had promised to meet with Mr Berkeley for tea in the Royal Hotel after his Corporation meeting later this afternoon, and we have a number of calls to make first. We are visiting some old people today, you understand – the parents of one of our maids. Kate has helped me to do some sewing for them and we are just on our way to deliver it.’
‘Oh,’ was all Mrs William could say. ‘Oh. But are you not at all concerned that poor little Kate might catch something quite horrid from all their dirt and grime?’
The ladies exchanged polite, if somewhat cool, curtseys, Mrs William most obviously quite bewildered by the need for Mrs Berkeley to take any interest whatsoever, let alone any interest of a practical nature, in the elderly relatives of one of her household staff. Mrs Berkeley and Maggie shared a quick glance and smile. Augusta stuck out a pink tongue at her newly discovered cousin, causing that young lady to stare at her, wide eyed, in incredulous disbelief. Then Mrs Berkeley was gone, accompanied by little Kate’s high-pitched questions as to ‘who was that very rude girl who had been standing next to her new aunt?’ and Maggie was able to resume her repairs to Mrs William’s outerwear, her endeavours succeeding in at least making its wearer look presentable once more, if doing nothing very much at all for that good lady’s badly injured pride.
Chapter 17
‘Pardon me, Mr Staveley, but – may I ask? – are you worried about something? Only you have been sitting in that same spot for quite some time without saying a word.’
Maggie had been practising on the pianoforte in the little music room off the drawing room, but she could clearly see Mr Staveley, who often sat in the drawing room when there was any music on offer, through the open double doors.
Freddy looked up at her, frowning a little.
‘Yes,’ he admitted, after a moment’s hesitation. ‘Yes, m...maybe I am a little concerned about something.’
‘Is it anything that I could help you with, perhaps?’
Maggie stopped playing and joined him on the sofa.
Freddy looked thoughtful.
‘It’s m...my mother, M...Miss Owens. I am concerned about m...my mother.’
‘Your mother? In what way are you concerned? Is she not well?’
‘No, it is not that exactly. She is well enough, I daresay, though she does app...appear easily confused. No. She is well enough but she keeps saying that she is worried about her kelter. I am not quite sure why this should be. She is not wealthy, to b...be sure, but she should have had sufficient to m...meet all of her needs, and it appears that she is quite out at heels.’
Maggie was a little taken aback.
‘But whatever do you mean?’
‘Well, I saw that she had need of some new caps only the other day. The ones she is wearing are getting devilish disrep....disreputable. It is not like her at all. And yet she said that she had not got the money to buy any.’
‘And she was not merely confused?’
‘No. I looked in her p...purse. There was scarcely a croker in it, and I understand that there is nothing at the b...bank as well. And then, she was saying that her jewellery was going m...missing. It is not so very valuable but worth an amount, to be sure, and she was m...most fond of it. M...much of it belonged to her m..mama’s family, you see. She mentioned a couple of items. We looked everywhere in her room. They were not to b...be found at all.’
‘Perhaps she had put it somewhere safe and forgotten about it?’
‘It is p...possible, of course, b....but we looked everywhere we could think of. It is certainly devilish strange. She does not like to accuse b...but she seems to think that my cousins are taking everything from her.’
Maggie blanched a little. She was starting to recall some of the seemingly random things that Mrs Staveley, in her occasional forays into the society of the household, had apparently been trying to say to her. She was starting to feel a little guilty.
‘Do you know, Mr Staveley, now that you mention it, your mama has said something of that sort to me before now. I must admit that I was not quite sure what she was trying to say. I regret that I dismissed it at the time. But I do remember her telling me that they were bleeding her dry.’
Mr Staveley nodded sagely.
‘Yes, I can understand why you m...might not have taken her very seriously. She is....her mind is certainly less strong than I rem...remember it to have b...been only a very few years ago, and you are still a relative stranger in the household after all. I can understand why you might not have wanted to get involved. B...but I wonder, Miss Owens – we are good friends together now, are we not? Would you m...mind if I asked a very great favour of you in relation to m....my mother? Would you be so very, very kind as – well – just to look out for her a little? I am quite concerned for her, to tell you the truth, b...but I fear that she is not quite able to open up to m...me. I am a m...man, after all, and ladies can sometimes feel a little uneasy about op..opening up to a man. I am hop....hoping that, as a sym....sympathetic lady, you may be able to get her to open up to you instead?’
Maggie felt quite touched by Mr Staveley’s tender thoughtfulness on the part of his mama. She looked at him musingly for a moment. She had not come across any other gentleman in her life before – with the possible exception of Mr Berkeley, whom she suspected might have a similar trait – who was capable of demonstrating quite such a sensitive understanding of another person’s needs. And as she looked at him she became aware of a most unexpected feeling of tenderness towards him. Large, clumsy, uncomfortable as he was, Mr Staveley was yet a gentleman who was obviously quite capable of showing a good deal of affection towards another person. And unlike the affection that Mr Wright had tried to demonstrate towards her, the affection that Mr Staveley was showing was based entirely on the needs of that other person, and not at all on his own.
‘Of course I will, if you wish me to, Mr Staveley,’ she said at last. ‘In fact, to be quite honest, I am feeling quite ashamed that you have even had to ask for such a thing. I suppose I have been so wrapped up in the little trivialities of my own life – in my dislike of my employment here, in – well – the situation in which I find myself in more ways than one – that I have completely forgotten that there are other people around me who may be in need of some help of their own. Thank you for reminding me of my obligations towards them. Of course I will look out for your mama,
as much as I am able. And if I discover anything that causes me the slightest bit of concern I shall mention it to you as soon as I possibly can.’
It looked as though Freddy was about to follow up his request with some further communication of quite some import to him, but just as he was apparently debating within himself exactly what to say and how to say it, the butler knocked quietly on the door and announced that Miss Brewer had called to visit Mrs Wright. This announcement instantly robbed him of any ability to say anything of importance whatsoever and created, instead, a most hopeful glow on his cheek. Maggie realised that whatever it was that he had wanted to say would now have to wait for another, more auspicious, afternoon.
Chapter 18
Whereas the music room stood at the rear of the drawing room at Grosvenor Place, a further room which Mr Wright laughingly referred to as his study, but which served as a general area for any activity which could not reasonably be accommodated anywhere else within the household, was similarly to be found at the rear of the dining room across the hall. The study was a little larger than the music room by dint of extending slightly over the outbuildings in the rear yard and it was of an ideal shape to house the somewhat limited selection of books which constituted the Wright family library. Mr Wright had kindly offered Maggie free access to this library whenever she liked and she had contributed her own small but interesting collection to its shelves there in return.
That evening, feeling a little low but disinclined to walk out due to the inclemency of the weather, Maggie determined on visiting the study to establish the extent of the books it had to offer. As a girl she had generally enjoyed browsing for an hour or so, although her taste could hardly be described as superior, but what with one thing and another – her establishment with the Wrights, their removal to Weymouth, the extent of her duties with Augusta and Will – she had not, until now, ventured to indulge her interest very much for the past six months or more.
The study door was open and, not realising that anyone was at home, Maggie walked straight in without so much as a knock. It was therefore a bit of a surprise to her to be confronted by the sight of Mr Wright, who was seated at a slightly battered Sheraton writing desk which was covered in what looked to be papers and books of accounts.
‘Oh,’ she said, stopping in her tracks and blushing furiously. William looked up at her and his face broke into a smile. ‘I am so sorry, Mr Wright. I should have knocked. I had no notion of your being at home at all.’
Mr Wright crinkled his eyes.
‘And why should you be sorry, my dear?’ he asked, rising from his seat and moving towards her with some intent. ‘You should know by now that there is nothing I like better than to have you nearby. You are most welcome to visit me whenever you wish to – as long as my own dear wife is not around, of course. And indeed – perhaps you secretly intended to find me on my own? After all, how can I be sure that you really thought me safely out of the way?’
Maggie felt somewhat taken aback. It was somehow a little disconcerting to find that Mr Wright was apparently so assured of her interest in him that he could actually suggest that she had purposely sought him out.
‘Well, I can only assure you that I did not, sir,’ she countered. ‘I came to browse your selection of books. I had not intended to disturb your solitude at all.’
‘You disappoint me, then. I had felt certain that you had come on purpose to entertain me. But it’s probably just as well, for my wife is due back at any moment with the twins – I am only surprised that they have lasted out so long – and I scarcely think it politic for her to find you here with me, secreted in this study on our own.’
And as if to prove the veracity of his information, no sooner had the words left his lips than they could hear some childish shrieks emanating from the direction of the front door, accompanied by the dulcet but equally loud tones of Mrs Wright as she attempted to prevent one of her little darlings from totally destroying the umbrella.
Mr Wright heaved a regretful sigh and retired into the hallway in order to provide some reinforcement to his wife’s efforts to restrain their noisome offspring from the worst of their destructive endeavours. Maggie turned to watch him go and await the Wrights’ dissipation throughout the house before attempting to steal out of the study herself and return in safety to her room. She was feeling a little confused. She would be very glad indeed to have some spare time for her thoughts.
Chapter 19
Miss Brewer, having just taken her leave of some friends at the Royal Hotel near her home the following day, was standing outside said institution on Weymouth Esplanade with the studiedly casual air of someone who had determined on meeting up with someone whilst wishing to make the encounter appear totally accidental.
Someone, indeed, in the cumbersome form of Mr Staveley, did happen to pass her way at the required moment although from her immediate but swiftly hidden reaction it was apparent that he was not the particular object of her thoughts just then. Nevertheless, Miss Brewer was nothing if not quick witted. She swiftly spotted an opportunity in this chance encounter, smiled sweetly at her delighted companion, and immediately offered him her hand.
‘Well m...met, M...Miss B...Brewer,’ said the gentleman, reddening a little. ‘I see that you are enjoying the fresh sea air this m...morning.’
The lady inclined her head prettily.
‘As are you, apparently, Mr Staveley. I have been watching the sea bathing. The dippers are particularly busy today. I must say it holds no appeal to me,’ shuddering. ‘Even in the summer I expect the water to feel most unpleasantly cold.’
Mr Staveley gave out a chuckle.
‘It is indeed. I have had the mi...misfortune to experience it for m...myself on more than one occasion. I had quite a rep...reputation at one time for tum...tumbling from the ship. It is more pleasant in the Cari...Caribbean, however. The water there is crystal clear and warm as a bath. I used to jum...jump in voluntarily as a boy.’
Here was a chance for Miss Brewer to effect a plan. She took it up at once.
‘Do you know, Mr Staveley, I have never in my life been on board a ship. Is that not singular, having lived on the coast for most of my life? It is something that I have longed to do for a lifetime and never really been given the chance. I wonder,’ smiling into his eyes, ‘I wonder whether it might be possible for you to accompany me to the quayside? I know for a fact that at least one of the boats in which my father has invested is moored there just at the moment. I feel persuaded that I might be given the opportunity to step on board if I go along to see it. I have long been interested in ships, you know, and I should love to learn everything there is to know about them. I know very little as yet. I greatly admire gentlemen – like you - who risk life and limb every day of the year to sail off around the world.’
Although it was not entirely convenient, Mr Staveley having engaged with Captain Wright to visit him at his house on High Street later that morning, this was nevertheless an opportunity to impress Miss Brewer that was far too good to miss. After all, was he not an officer in His Majesty’s Royal Navy? Were ships and sailing not his life’s work? Of course they were. He could talk endlessly about the sea, show her all sorts of interesting details, entertain her for a lifetime on the deck of a ship. So he immediately revised his plans, offered Miss Brewer his arm, which she graciously took, and headed off down The Esplanade towards St Thomas Street and on to Weymouth quay.
The quayside was busy, as always, and embellished by the distinctive aroma of fish – an aroma which was apparently not at all to the liking of the lady’s delicate sensibilities.
‘Oh how disgusting,’ she complained, taking a scented muslin handkerchief from her little reticule and holding it limply to her nose. ‘I really do not see the need for all these common fishermen to display their wares in public. Why can they not take the horrid things to a market like normal people would?’
If Mr Staveley thought this a slightly hypocritical statement, considering the gusto with which
the very same lady had tackled the fish course when last she had dined at Mr Wright’s, he was far too gentlemanly to say so. Instead, he gallantly agreed that the smell of fish was certainly not the most inviting accompaniment to a walk along the quay, and tried to distract her attention by explaining the differences between the various types of ship which were just then moored alongside it.
‘And this one is a b...brig, Miss B...Brewer,’ he was saying. ‘You can tell that because the fore-m...mast....’
‘Oh,’ broke in the lady, her attention being caught by an entirely different vessel moored further along the quay. ‘Is that not Mr Rowley-Jones’ ship, Mr Staveley? I am sure it must be, for it is just as he described it to me. Can you determine its name?’
Mr Staveley was not at all sure that he wished to escort Miss Brewer in the direction of the ship of a young gentleman who was more than capable of impressing her with knowledge of his own but he was left with little option but to submit to her eager tugging and accompany her reluctantly towards it.
Fortune appeared to smile on Miss Brewer that day, for almost as soon as she and Mr Staveley had arrived at the elegant sloop which did indeed bear the name of Mr Rowley-Jones’ privateer than that gentleman himself materialised from a similar direction to the one from which they themselves had arrived only a very few moments before. He immediately bestowed a most elegant bow upon her, which was boldly accompanied by a kiss of her outstretched hand.
‘Ha, you have taken up my offer, I see, Miss Brewer,’ he acknowledged, providing her companion with a nod which was remarkable only for its slightness considering how well the gentlemen concerned were known to each other. ‘Would you care to do me the honour of stepping aboard? I should be delighted to give you the benefit of a short look around. Mr Staveley, I know, will not mind me robbing him of your company. After all, he spent a good few weeks upon the ‘Sylph’ when he shared my journey back home.’
An Indelicate Situation (The Weymouth Trilogy) Page 11
