Rich Girl, Poor Girl

by Val Wood

  ‘It must have been an accident, Edwin,’ Anna’s conciliatory voice appealed. ‘Amos would never—’

  ‘Mind your own business, bitch,’ Edwin snarled. ‘It’s got nothing to do with you.’

  For a second no one said anything, there was just a fusion of intakes of breath, and then Luke found his voice.

  ‘What did you say? What did you say to my wife?’

  ‘Wife! Hah!’ Edwin sneered and his face was contorted with anger. ‘Wanton. Fornicator. Never wife! My mother was your wife and you’ve defiled her memory by bringing that woman here.’

  Anna put her hands to her mouth. Her face was deathly pale and she sat still as stone. Polly and Rosalie stood as if they had been struck, whilst Sonny by the window and Howard near the door looked as if they were poised to spring.

  Luke launched himself towards his son with his fist raised, but in an instant Edwin brought out a knife and held it in front of him. He flicked the blade and thrust it towards his father.

  ‘Keep away from me,’ he snapped. ‘Don’t dare touch me.’

  Luke backed off, his hands lifted high. ‘I won’t,’ he said quietly, though his voice trembled with shock. ‘Let’s just talk, Edwin, and find out what’s gone wrong. If Amos has fired at you then I want to know the reason why and he’ll be punished.’

  He was coaxing, appealing; everyone in the room knew that, but Edwin knew it too. He gave a sly grin.

  ‘Think you can soft-soap me?’ he mocked. ‘I know your game.’ He jumped as someone gave a brief knock on the door. ‘Who’s this?’

  The door opened and Mrs Moody came in. Edwin sprang towards her, putting his arm round her neck and holding the blade at her throat.

  ‘Oh, Mr Edwin!’ The housekeeper gagged. ‘What ’you doing? Please. You’re hurting me. Don’t! Don’t! Help me, somebody.’

  ‘Shut up, you old hag,’ he muttered.

  ‘I’m your friend, Mr Edwin,’ she moaned. ‘Your only one. What ’you doing? Haven’t I allus looked after you? Ever since you were a little bairn; anything you wanted you could have.’

  Edwin put the blade closer to her throat. ‘Why do you think I tolerated you?’ he murmured into her ear. ‘Don’t think it was because I liked you, because it wasn’t. It was only because you gave me everything I asked for.’

  He had his back to the window and hadn’t seen Sonny take a tentative step towards him. But Howard had, and so had Luke, and Luke engaged Edwin in conversation again.

  ‘Let Mrs Moody go, Edwin,’ he said. ‘This is nothing to do with her. This is between you and me.’

  ‘And her.’ Edwin shifted his head in Anna’s direction.

  ‘All right. And Anna too. But let’s talk about it. Settle our differences.’

  ‘Huh!’ Edwin gave a guttural grunt. ‘And will you send her packing, back down the valley where she belongs?’

  Luke hesitated and as he and Edwin stared at each other, Sonny sprang and so did Howard. Sonny launched himself on to Edwin’s knees, making them buckle, whilst Howard grabbed Edwin’s arm, jerking it upwards and releasing the knife. They manhandled him on to the floor, Howard holding his wrists and Sonny his feet.

  Mrs Moody screeched and squawked. ‘I’m bleeding!’ she shrieked. ‘He’s cut me!’

  ‘Get a cord, Luke,’ Howard said. ‘We must restrain him.’ They were wrestling to keep Edwin down while he struggled, kicked and swore, using such vile language that even Polly was shocked.

  Luke dashed out of the room whilst Rosalie and Polly tried to calm Mrs Moody, who was still screaming.

  ‘It’s only a small cut, Mrs Moody,’ Rosalie said. ‘Come and sit down. You’re upsetting Mrs Kingston.’

  The housekeeper pushed her away and went on flailing her arms and bellowing. Polly gritted her teeth, took a deep breath and slapped her across the face.

  The housekeeper inhaled and for a moment they thought she would have a fit, but then she started to cry, sobbing into her hand.

  ‘Never did I think I’d see the day when Mr Edwin would say such things to me,’ she wailed. ‘Me, who’s been like a mother to him since his own mother died.’

  She looked down at Edwin writhing on the floor, and as Luke came back with a length of cord with which to restrain him she shook her head.

  ‘It’s your marrying again what’s done it, Mr Kingston,’ she declared. ‘That and bringing strangers into the house. It’s turned his mind sour. We were all right afore. Proper little family we were. You, me, Miss Clemmie and Mr Edwin.’

  She pointedly omitted Howard. Luke got up from his knees and stared at her, his face expressionless.

  ‘Get out,’ he said quietly. ‘Pack your bags and go!’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Polly and Rosalie took Anna up to her room to rest. Her daughter Elizabeth sat beside her and held her hand. Fortunately she had been in the schoolroom with her governess during the debacle; she had been told that Edwin was ill and the doctor had been sent for, and that her mother should rest.

  Anna had persuaded Luke that Mrs Moody should be allowed to stay until the following day before leaving. ‘She will need a reference and her wages,’ she said softly. ‘You must allow her those at least.’

  Howard had cantered down the valley after Amos, who, finding Sam on the stable floor and hearing that no one had yet gone for the doctor, had set off to fetch him, unaware of what was happening inside the house. Howard caught up with him and told him briefly what had occurred.

  ‘Police need to be informed then?’ Amos said bluntly. ‘Even if Mrs Moody doesn’t press charges, Mr Edwin’s not fit to be left alone. It’s asylum for him, Mr Howard. He’s allus been a loose cannon. He needs locking up.’

  He needs help, Howard meditated as he rode back to the house, and that was what he suggested to Luke. They could hear Edwin drumming his feet on the floor of his room; he had been locked in until the doctor arrived.

  ‘You’re right,’ Luke sighed. ‘You know ...’ He put his head in his hands. There were just the two of them in the room. Sonny had made himself scarce. ‘After Edwin’s mother died, I was so pleased that you were here and that you wanted to stay. You were a sensible lad with a sense of fun and I thought’ – he gave another deep sigh – ‘that you’d be a companion and friend to Edwin. He was always highly strung and constantly seeking attention and I thought you’d be a good influence on him. What I hadn’t realized was that Edwin was jealous of you, probably always had been, first because his mother was fond of you and later, I believe, because he thought that you might steal my affection away from him. In fact I had enough love to share between you all.’ He gazed into nothingness and then said, ‘What am I to do, Howard? How can I make good my mistakes?’

  ‘From where I’m standing, sir, you haven’t made any,’ Howard said. ‘You did your best to bring us all up without a mother.’ He stood beside Luke’s chair and put his hand on his shoulder. ‘But Edwin needs urgent medical help, and,’ he added emphatically, ‘he can’t live here. Anna would be in constant fear for herself and her children. He must go away for his own good and for the sake of others. He mustn’t be allowed to ride roughshod over family and servants.’

  Howard was thinking of Dora, who was unable to resist Edwin’s advances, and Anna’s daughter Elizabeth who was at a vulnerable age; but he was thinking most of all of Polly, who had spurned Edwin once but might not be so lucky another time.

  ‘Yes,’ Luke agreed. ‘And if he finds out that Anna is expecting our child that might be sufficient to tip him right over the edge.’

  Howard considered that Edwin had already gone over the edge, but he kept his counsel. Luke had had enough misery for one day.

  ‘I’m desperate for something to drink,’ Anna said from her bed. ‘I’m parched. Polly, would you ... ? I don’t like to ring. Do you think there’s chaos downstairs?’

  ‘I’ll go.’ Polly smiled. ‘I know how to make a pot o’ tea. I’m an expert!’

  She slipped down the back stairs. She could he
ar a regular thudding coming from Edwin’s room and hoped the doctor wouldn’t be long. Mebbe he’ll sedate him. Give him a strong dose o’ loddy mebbe. She felt vaguely sorry for Edwin even though he had been so vile, but she hoped that he would soon be out of the house. Mrs Kingston was nervous after what he had said, and had asked that she shouldn’t be left alone whilst Edwin was still there.

  The kitchen wasn’t in chaos; rather, it was quite relaxed. Cook was preparing a late lunch of cold beef and chicken and game pie and one of the maids was setting out a tray to take upstairs.

  ‘We’ll put this in the dining room, miss, and then everybody can help themselves,’ Cook said. ‘Them as want it. Nobody’ll feel like sitting down to a cooked lunch after all that commotion, I’ll be bound. Then I’ll do an early supper.’

  ‘I’ll take a tray up to Mrs Kingston, if you don’t mind,’ Polly said. ‘She’s in need of a cup of strong tea, and’ – she gazed over the table – ‘perhaps a slice of chicken and some bread and butter.’

  ‘Yes, miss. Come on, Lottie,’ she said to the maid. ‘Look sharp about it.’

  Cook said nothing about the housekeeper, though she surely knew what had happened, but Polly noticed that she hummed to herself as she bustled about. She’s pleased, Polly decided as she waited for the kettle to boil. Mrs Moody will not be missed, even by those downstairs.

  The maid took the luncheon tray upstairs and as Polly poured the water on to the tea leaves she asked the cook, ‘Where will Mrs Moody go, do you think?’

  ‘To her sister’s, miss,’ Cook said, without even looking up from the job in hand. ‘And she’s welcome to her. Good riddance is what I say.’

  All the ladies were upstairs in Anna’s room when they heard the doctor’s carriage approach, immediately followed by another crunching of wheels on the gravel. Rosalie looked out of the window. She took a breath and licked her lips and glanced at Polly.

  Polly sauntered over and casually looked out. Black Maria, she breathed. It was a cause of both dread and excitement whenever they were seen appearing at a scene of trouble in Hull. But out here in this quiet and lovely countryside it seemed an intrusion.

  ‘Who is it?’ Anna asked. ‘Is it the doctor?’

  ‘Yes.’ Polly nodded. ‘He’ll soon put everybody right,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Do you want to see him, Mrs Kingston?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘I’m perfectly all right. Just upset over what’s happened, so I’ll stay in bed for the rest of the day and keep out of everyone’s way.’

  ‘After the doctor’s gone,’ Rosalie said, ‘shall we have a picnic? Here, in your room, I mean? We could bring our lunch upstairs. Or would you rather be quiet?’

  ‘That would be lovely,’ Anna said. ‘It will take my mind off what will happen to poor Edwin. What do you think will? Will the doctor take him with him?’

  ‘We’re not even going to think about it,’ Polly said. ‘Not now. Don’t worry.’ Glancing out of the window she saw two police officers and a man in a white coat helping a comatose Edwin into the police carriage. ‘Somebody’ll look after him.’

  The next day saw the housekeeper’s departure. Luke called her into his study. ‘I’m sorry it has to end like this, Mrs Moody,’ he said as he handed her a letter of reference and her wages. ‘But I can’t have you speaking in such a manner about my personal life. I know you’ve cared for my son and daughter and I appreciate that, but they are mine and not yours, and soon we will have another child in the family, so it is best if we start afresh. I’m sorry too that Edwin was so rude to you, but he’s sick and I hope you’ll take account of that.’

  Mrs Moody huffed into her coat. ‘Well, nobody has seen fit to ask if I’m all right. Nearly had my throat cut, I did. I was in fear of my life.’

  ‘The doctor said it was only a scratch and barely broke the skin. And I don’t believe that Edwin would have hurt you, of all people.’ Luke held her gaze and hoped that she wouldn’t spread the news abroad. ‘He was angry, but not with you; you just happened to come in at the wrong moment.’

  Mrs Moody huffed again and muttered something, but Luke got to his feet. ‘Thank you for your past service, Mrs Moody. I hope you’ll remember us kindly. Good day to you.’

  She stalked out to where Amos was waiting for her with the trap. She got in and folded her arms across her chest. ‘I could take them to court,’ she said sullenly. ‘I was in danger of my life, you know. Within an inch of having my life blood drained away.’

  ‘Oh aye?’ Amos said dispassionately. ‘If he was as handy with a knife as he was with a gun then you’d nowt to worry about. Anyway,’ he said as he shook the reins, ‘would you bite the hand that’s fed you for all these years?’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Luke had wanted to cancel the shoot that had been arranged for the end of the following week, but Howard pointed out it would be difficult to let people know that it had been called off.

  ‘They’d also want to know why,’ he said. ‘They’d ask questions; and don’t forget we have people coming from outside the district and we couldn’t let them know in time.’

  Howard and Amos and a local lad had been busy over the last few weeks building up stone butts across the moor where the men would wait for their prey.

  Reluctantly Luke agreed. Grouse shooting was a sport he enjoyed and his household always put on luncheon and dinner for the many gentlemen, businessmen, farmers and sportsmen who gathered on the moor.

  ‘I don’t want to see any of it,’ Rosalie declared. ‘It’s wholesale slaughter.’

  ‘No, it’s not,’ Luke said reprovingly. ‘Not on my land.’ Luke was not in favour of mindless killing and so banned those who were only there for a record bag. He invited the sportsmen who came with their dogs, their beaters and their keepers.

  Polly raised her eyebrows. She had no real opinion on the morals of it, but, she thought, it’s food, just like having chicken or beef for dinner, and the game birds she considered had a pretty good life living wild out on the moor. Besides, she thought they had a chance. She was fairly sure that not all the gentlemen would be marksmen.

  ‘Have you ever been to a shoot, m’dear?’ Luke asked Rosalie. ‘Your father never came to ours though he was often invited, but then he’s always been busy shooting people!’

  ‘No, I haven’t. And Papa only shoots at the enemy!’ Rosalie said in her father’s defence. ‘He’s a soldier, so that’s entirely different.’

  ‘Yes, there’s the difference between us,’ Luke said. ‘I for one couldn’t fire at another human being, but I do enjoy a good game pie.’

  Rosalie was silenced. That was what they’d had for dinner. A game pie of rabbit, grouse and teal. She had enjoyed it too. Perhaps she hadn’t thought the subject through.

  ‘You still have town in you,’ Luke said mildly. ‘You’re not yet a country girl. Unlike Miss Polly here,’ he wagged a finger in Polly’s direction, ‘who I think is becoming one. And what about you, Sonny? Will you take up a gun this time?’

  ‘No, sir, I won’t. I’ll try to catch the birds and their hunters on canvas.’ He glanced at Rosalie. ‘But I’ll still enjoy a game pie. Like Rosalie, I have mixed feelings about the sport. Then I must take leave of your hospitality and prepare for my travels abroad.’

  Luke sighed. ‘I’m sorry that on this occasion you have become embroiled in our family troubles.’ He was still hurt and smarting about what had gone before. ‘But I hope we’ll see you again soon under happier circumstances.’

  ‘I shall look forward to that, sir, and in the spring when I return I hope to hear some good news.’

  He meant Anna, of course. Luke had insisted that she see the doctor after he had attended to Sam, and now she was keeping to her bed on his orders. She was quite well but he said that she should stay quiet and rest and not come down whilst there were extra visitors arriving for the shoot.

  Polly had volunteered herself and Rosalie to look after the shooting party, for now that Mrs Moody had gon
e there was no one to organize Cook or the servants. It’ll be good practice for me, she thought. I could perhaps be a housekeeper if Rosalie goes away. She was constantly thinking of the jobs she could do, for in her heart she was sure that Rosalie would give in to her father’s demands and leave for Aldershot, no matter how vehemently she insisted that she wouldn’t.

  She’d been brought up to be obedient, Polly knew. To do always what was expected of her. I can’t think that Rosalie’s uncle has laid down so many rules for Clementina. She seems to have complete freedom and leaves for Scarborough on a whim. Clemmie was still away and as yet didn’t know about Edwin.

  On the first morning of the shoot, Polly rose at six o’clock and went down to the kitchen to find Cook already baking bread and pastry. A shoulder of mutton was sizzling over the fire and a large cauldron of soup was simmering at the side. From the oven came the tantalizing smell of roasting beef.

  ‘There are some gentlemen expected for breakfast, Cook,’ Polly told her. ‘What do you normally give them?’

  ‘I thought I’d best do the same as last year,’ Cook said. ‘I sent up to Mrs Kingston to ask if that was all right and she said that it was. There’s ham and sausage and plenty of eggs, and I’ll prepare dinner for three o’clock for them as is going out to shoot in the afternoon.’

  As this was Polly’s first experience with a shooting party, she decided that the best thing she could do was make sure there was a plentiful supply of food coming up from the kitchen and that the maids didn’t dally with it.

  At nine she took a breakfast tray up to Anna. She placed the tray on a side table and opened the curtains.

  ‘Here we are, m’lady,’ she said. ‘It’s a bright and beautiful morning.’

  ‘Polly!’ Anna sat up. ‘There’s no need for you to do this. You’re a guest in our house.’

  ‘I like to be useful, Mrs Kingston. I’m not used to sitting about doing nothing, and besides,’ she said, placing the tray on the bed, ‘’maids are busy helping Cook get things ready for when ‘gentlemen arrive.’