by Anna Jacobs
‘No, thank you.’ She didn’t dare spend even sixpence on such a service until she knew whether she had a new job.
She started to move slowly towards the exit, weighed down by her suitcase and the shabby sacking bag. She put them down for a moment to study the street, relieved when she saw that the hotel she’d remembered from her one and only visit was indeed just across the road.
When she tried to go inside, the commissionaire at the door barred the way and asked her business.
‘I’ve come to join my employer, Mr Dalton.’
‘Your name, miss?’
‘Miss Benson.’
‘Ah, yes. Mr Dalton left word that he was expecting you.’ He smiled at her in a fatherly way. ‘You should really have used the servants’ entrance at the back, but there’s no one around to see, so I’ll let you in this time. You’ll need to speak to the clerk at reception.’ With a click of the fingers, he beckoned to a pageboy, who put her luggage on a trolley.
She went across to the counter and repeated her request to see Joseph.
‘I’ll send someone to see if Mr Dalton is up yet.’ The man looked down his nose at her, then beckoned the same pageboy.
Harriet nearly said Joseph was always up by this time, but stopped herself, because that would sound bad.
The lad returned a couple of minutes later. ‘Mr Dalton says he’ll meet Miss Benson in the dining room in five minutes. He says she can have breakfast with him.’
The man behind the desk pulled an even sourer face at this breach of normal behaviour.
Harriet turned round. ‘What about my luggage?’
‘It’ll be kept for you in the luggage room, miss. You have only to ask for it when you return from breakfast.’
She looked at him doubtfully.
He rolled his eyes briefly towards the ceiling, as if she’d said something utterly stupid. ‘Your luggage will be perfectly safe there, I assure you.’ He gestured to a seat behind a big potted plant. ‘You may sit over here to wait for your employer.’
Exactly five minutes later, the pageboy came across. ‘Mr Dalton is waiting. It’s this way, miss.’
When Joseph got the message that Harriet had arrived, he beamed at the pageboy and tipped him a whole shilling.
‘I was worried they’d stop her getting away,’ he said to Frank when they were on their own again.
‘Well, she’s here now. My uncle thinks a lot of Harriet. I knew she’d not let you down. Shall I wheel you into the dining room, sir?’
‘Yes, please. Then go and get yourself a good, hearty breakfast in the servants’ area.’
The guests’ dining room was nearly empty at this hour of the morning, except for an elderly man reading a newspaper in one corner. He looked up briefly as they entered, then looked away quickly at the sight of the wheelchair.
Joseph chose a table by the window and watched the doorway eagerly. He saw Harriet stop to look round. Her face lit up when she saw him and he could feel himself beaming too. He beckoned her over.
The pageboy followed her, as if unsure whether to leave her there. ‘Do sit down, Harriet. We’ll have breakfast together and plan what to do next.’ Joseph indicated the chair opposite him and the lad pulled it out.
She hesitated. ‘Are you sure it’s all right for me to join you in here?’
‘It is if I say so. Anyway I’m hungry and I want to know how you got on, so we can eat as we talk.’
The pageboy walked away, turning in the doorway to stare at them.
‘Aren’t you hungry, Harriet?’
‘I am now I’ve got this far, yes. But I still don’t think I should be in here. It’s for the gentry, not for servants.’
‘And for the gentry’s guests.’ If she were dressed in fine clothes, she’d look every inch the lady, Joseph thought. She had a quiet, self-contained way of holding herself that was very attractive. At the moment, however, she looked shabby and nervous. He must buy her some decent clothes … if she’d let him.
Oh, she was here, she was really here!
‘Let’s order breakfast first, then you can tell me every single detail of how you got away.’ He raised one finger and a waiter hovering to one side came across.
By the time she’d finished her tale, they’d both cleared a plate of ham and eggs, and were spreading butter and jam on pieces of toast.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a meal as much,’ he said.
‘You don’t usually eat that much, sir.’
‘I’m not usually free. It adds savour to the food, being free, don’t you think? And it’s partly due to you.’ He took another big bite of toast, making a little murmuring noise of enjoyment.
‘Due to me?’
‘For reminding me that I have valuable things to sell, for telling me how much money I’d need to live simply. I’m so ignorant of normal people’s lives that I hadn’t understood that.’
‘Oh, well, I’m glad I could help.’
When he’d crunched the last corner of toast, Joseph said thoughtfully, ‘Bert was right. We should get further away from my father than this, or he’ll be trying to interfere. I suggest we start by going to Swindon and finding out about your inheritance, then I’ll try to find a little house to rent in a quiet village somewhere.’
After another moment’s thought, he added, ‘And if I like the looks of your lawyer, I’ll ask him to act on my behalf as well, if you don’t mind. I need to sell some of my grandmother’s jewellery and I don’t intend to use the Dalton family lawyer. Aside from the fact that I can’t stand the fellow, he wouldn’t dare do anything to upset my father.’
‘Oughtn’t we to find you a new home first? I’m sure my legacy won’t be anything much.’
‘Then best get it dealt with, so we’re free to go where we choose.’ He grinned. ‘I’m the master now, so you must do as I say, young Harriet.’
She said, ‘Yes, sir,’ mockingly. Joseph had never been the sort to order people around, master or not. That was when she realised she was thinking of him as Joseph now, not Mr Joseph.
Things had changed between them.
He wiped his fingers on his napkin and laid it on the table, and she followed suit. When he pushed his wheelchair back from the table, he clicked his tongue in annoyance as it bumped into a chair from the next table.
‘Could you push me out of here, please, Harriet? It’s a bit difficult to move the chair myself among so many pieces of furniture.’
Once in the lobby, he took over again, wheeling himself towards the desk. ‘We’ll ask about trains to Swindon.’
Harriet stood behind him in a dutiful servant’s pose, hands clasped in front of her, listening to him organise their departure. He seemed different here, more sure of what he was doing, a man rather than a boy, if that wasn’t too fanciful a thought.
Could a person change so quickly? Joseph had done now he’d left his parents’ roof.
She felt guilty for delaying him and hoped it wouldn’t take long to sort out her legacy, which would be something and nothing, perhaps a memento from one of her father’s cousins – though she wouldn’t have thought any of them rich enough to need a lawyer to deal with their legacies. It was puzzling.
They caught a train on the Great Western Line at ten o’clock, getting the large pile of luggage on board with the help of two porters and Frank.
Joseph insisted his servants join him in a first-class compartment, because he didn’t want to sit alone, so they did that.
Frank whispered gleefully to Harriet that they were seeing a bit of life, weren’t they? She nodded, but sat stiffly in her seat, knowing she was out of place here with her shabby clothes.
No one else joined them in the compartment, though one lady glanced in and gave them a disgusted look, as if she could tell at a glance that two of the group were only servants.
Then the train set off and Joseph smiled at her. ‘Don’t look so scared.’
Harriet couldn’t summon up a smile in return. The more she thought about what
they were doing and how much there was to sort out, the more she worried.
‘Tell me what’s upsetting you.’
‘Whether your father will come after us.’ She hesitated. ‘After me, especially, since you’re over twenty-one.’
‘That’s why we need to see a lawyer, and if we don’t like this one, we’ll engage another to help you, if needed.’
‘I think you’d be better off without me. I should just … disappear.’
‘Promise me you won’t do that.’
He looked at her so fiercely, she murmured a promise. Heaven help her, she hated the thought of leaving him.
‘Good. I would definitely not be better off without you. I can’t run a house without help, and there are so many everyday things of which I’m ignorant. I don’t think Frank could run a house, either.’
Joseph seemed so positive about their future that Harriet pushed her worries aside and turned her attention to the countryside they were passing through. She’d never been so far west before, wondered where they’d all end up. She couldn’t help yawning after a night without sleep, but excitement helped her stay awake.
Swindon station was busy and the narrow street outside it was equally crowded, with carts, carriages, bicycles and people on foot coming and going as if they were all in a tearing hurry. ‘We’ll leave our things in the left-luggage office,’ Joseph decided. ‘Then we can take a cab to your lawyer’s.’
Once again, his money and gentle air of confidence seemed to sweep away all obstacles from their path. Or was it his personal charm and friendly manner, she wondered?
He joked with the cab driver about fitting in three people and a wheelchair, and the man smiled at them benevolently as Frank managed to attach the wheelchair to the luggage rack.
When they arrived at the lawyer’s rooms, there were steps, so Joseph sent Frank inside to find out if Mr Lloyd could see Miss Harriet Benson. He tipped the cab driver handsomely to wait for them.
Frank came back with the lawyer’s clerk, who looked only at Harriet, begging her to come inside. He waited for the wheelchair to be carried up the three steps and Joseph installed in it again, then ushered her inside, letting the others follow.
She was surprised by this.
In the reception area, he turned to Joseph. ‘May I ask who you are, sir?’
‘I’m Harriet’s employer, Joseph Dalton.’
She nodded. ‘I asked him to come with me to see Mr Lloyd.’
Joseph smiled at the clerk, but this time won no smile in return. ‘My manservant will wait out here for us, if that’s all right?’
‘Of course, sir.’
But it was Harriet the clerk was studying, as if he knew something about her. Only … what could it possibly be?
At Dalton House, Joseph’s mother was worried about her son. But she was even more worried about her husband, who seemed prepared to carry out a witch-hunt for their missing maid. The situation was annoying, but honesty compelled her to admit to herself that it hadn’t been her maid’s fault.
‘What good will it do to pursue poor Harriet?’ she asked her husband for the umpteenth time, exasperation sharpening her voice, something she didn’t normally allow because with a husband prone to get into rages if thwarted, it was helpful for one person to stay calm.
‘It’ll teach her not to disobey an employer and a gentleman,’ he snapped.
‘But you don’t want her back. Why not just let her go?’
‘I want her put in her rightful place. Someone needs to do that or she’ll never make a good servant.’
‘You know what will happen to her if you take her back to her stepmother.’
‘I know what she says will happen. My dear Sophie, young men don’t attack virtuous young women, they only deal that way with females of a certain type. She’s making up this tale.’
‘Mrs Miller believed her.’
‘Mrs Miller was an admirable housekeeper but she’s getting old now and old people can become credulous and forgetful.’
She couldn’t imagine Doris Miller getting like that. ‘What can you do to Harriet, even if you do bring her back? She’s not a slave, after all.’
‘I’m about to find out about that from my old friend Gypson. As a magistrate, he’ll no doubt be able to advise me.’
She gave up, but when her husband had left the house, she summoned Mrs Stuart and shared her worries.
‘Can’t you stop him, ma’am? That poor girl doesn’t deserve this.’
‘Unfortunately, I can’t get William to listen to me, whatever I say. Don’t you think I’ve tried to make him see reason? He’s always been stubborn, but I’ve never seen him so bullheaded about anything. The only good thing is that it’s taking his mind off Selwyn’s mess … and off Joseph. Do you think my son will be all right? He hasn’t even got Pollins.’
‘I’m sure he’ll be fine, ma’am. He’s nobody’s fool, Mr Joseph isn’t. The master has decided to let him find out for himself what the world’s like and I think he’ll do well. We all like serving him, you know.’
‘I never realised how much.’
‘He’ll find help wherever he goes, I’m sure.’
With that Sophie Dalton had to be content, but she continued to worry about what her husband was doing, because a visit to his friend Gypson had left him looking smug, and he wouldn’t tell her why.
An elegantly dressed man of about forty, with smooth iron-grey hair, came into the entrance area of the lawyer’s rooms and smiled at Harriet. ‘Miss Benson?’
‘Yes.’
He came across, holding out his hand. ‘I’m Reginald Lloyd. I’m delighted to meet you at last. Will you come into my private office?’
She stood up. ‘Yes, of course. This is Mr Dalton, my employer. I’d like him to come too, if you don’t mind.’
He looked at Joseph and inclined his head. ‘Do you need any help, sir?’
‘Only if there are awkward corners or stairs. Otherwise, Harriet can push me.’
‘Very well. Come this way.’
When they were all three settled in the big, comfortable office at the end of the corridor, the lawyer got out some papers and tapped them with his forefinger. ‘This is the last will and testament of Miss Agnes Latimer, who was a relative of yours on your mother’s side, Miss Benson.’
Harriet frowned slightly. ‘My mother’s maiden name was Latimer, but she always said her relatives had disowned her when she married my father.’
‘Miss Latimer continued to think very highly of her, I promise you. Now, let’s get the details out of the way. First we have to establish your bona fides. Do you have anything to prove who you are? It’s not that I’m doubting your word, because actually, you look like a Latimer. That hair runs in the family. But, in law, it’s always better to have incontrovertible proof.’
‘I have my birth certificate and my parents’ wedding lines.’
‘Do you have them with you?’
‘No. They’re in my suitcase. We left it at the station’s left-luggage office. Oh, and I have my mother’s family Bible too. It’s very old.’
‘Perfect. Would you let my junior clerk bring the suitcase here now?’
She turned sideways to look questioningly at Joseph.
‘My manservant could go with your clerk. He knows which suitcase belongs to Harriet.’ Joseph took out the ticket which identified him as the person who’d lodged eight pieces of luggage at the station. ‘He’ll need this.’
‘Thank you. I’ll send Perkins with your man, then.’
When the clerk had been despatched, Mr Lloyd sat down again. ‘Let me sum up Miss Latimer’s will for you, Miss Benson. It’s not complicated. She’s left you everything she owned, except for a small bequest to her nephew. Your inheritance consists of a house and some land, and there are also various investments, which will bring in enough money to live on and maintain the house.
‘The capital can’t be touched, nor can the house be sold. They must be passed on to your chosen heir who must
be a female, and a Latimer or a descendant of one.’
Harriet gasped, so shocked by this information she felt as if the room was spinning round her. She couldn’t form a single word and put up one hand to cover her mouth, feeling as if she had to literally hold her shock in.
Only when Joseph took her other hand and patted it gently did things seem to steady again.
Mr Lloyd was leaning forward, looking anxious. ‘Are you all right, Miss Benson?’
‘I’m … amazed … and confused. Are you sure it’s me she’s left all this to?’
‘Oh, yes. She had us looking for you during the year or two before her death, and when we found you, she was very happy indeed, sure you were the one.’
‘But why did she choose me?’
‘Because she considers you the female relative most suited to look after the Latimer inheritance. It’s a great responsibility and passes only to the females of the family.’
‘But I’m not a Latimer.’
‘Your mother was, so you have Latimer blood in you, and when she made enquiries about you, she decided it had bred true. She does ask that you change your surname to Latimer, which can be easily done. Would you mind?’
‘Of course not.’ She shook her head, still feeling numb with shock.
‘Could you tell us more about the house?’ Joseph asked.
‘It’s quite large and is in a village called Challerton to the south-west of Swindon. That’s all I’m authorised to tell you till we get there. It’s a tradition to pass on the house in a certain manner.’
Harriet kept hold of Joseph’s hand because everything else felt so unreal. ‘I still can’t believe it.’
The lawyer gave her an avuncular smile. ‘It’s a pleasant surprise, though, I hope. Could I ask where you’re staying?’
‘We were going to see if you could recommend a hotel in Swindon. And we need your help with something else.’
Joseph turned to Harriet. ‘I think we should tell Mr Lloyd how we both came to be here today.’
At her nod of agreement, he turned back, his expression solemn. ‘I think Harriet is going to need your help on two other matters. And I would appreciate the services of a lawyer, as well.’
