by Merry Farmer
A SECOND CHANCE
MERRY FARMER
A SECOND CHANCE
Copyright ©2017 by Merry Farmer
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill (the miracle-worker)
ASIN: B073VYPKHV
Paperback:
ISBN-13: 9781974169948
ISBN-10: 1974169944
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CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
About the Author
CHAPTER 1
LONDON, ENGLAND – 1878
N oelle Walters stepped up to the gangplank that had been set up for passengers to disembark from HMS Kestrel, tilted her chin up, and drew in a deep breath. The air of the docks was fishy and acrid, but Noelle smiled all the same. The cold, salt tang, the moisture kissing her skin, the puff of mighty steam engines, and the squawk of seabirds was as different from Wyoming as winter was from summer. But that was exactly what she wanted.
That was exactly why she’d taken the risk of accepting the offer of Bonnie Cole, Elspeth Strong, and Theophilus Gunn to place her as a maid in the house of a British lord. She was free, free from the sordid bonds of her old life, free from the wrong choices she’d made. She was free to start over.
“Ahem.” The woman in line behind Noelle tapped her foot impatiently against the deck.
“Sorry.” Noelle smiled in an attempt to smooth the woman’s irritation. She gripped her carpetbag tighter and started down the sloping gangplank.
“Easy there, Miss Walters,” Captain Tennant called to her from the dock below. “You’re doing just fine.”
Noelle could have laughed, her heart was so light. Captain Tennant must have mistaken the way she wanted to savor the moment she set foot on new soil as hesitance. He was a kind man who had treated her with respect through the entire journey from New York City, even though he knew who and what she’d been. The captain was a friend of Theophilus Gunn, likely in his late fifties, with a leathered face and eyes that had seen much. He’d told her tales of his voyages on the way over, shared stories of her friends, Millie and Clara, who he’d shuttled across the ocean the year before, and assured her that Lord Waltham, the man whose house she was going to work in, was a good man.
“There you go.” He took her hand as she stepped off the gangplank and onto the dock. “Welcome to London, Miss Walters.”
“Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me, Captain Tennant.” Noelle smiled at him with true fondness as he escorted her away from the ship and along the pier to the center of the wharf. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”
“Your company during the voyage was payment enough,” the captain said. “It’s been entertaining and edifying bringing you young ladies over here. I can’t wait to get back to New York to pick up the next one this summer.”
“It’s amazing how quickly ships can make the journey these days.”
“I’ve been known to make the journey in just over a week when the tide is right,” Captain Tennant said with a wink.
They reached the wharf, but instead of leaving her to find her way to Mayfair by herself, Captain Tennant walked her toward a three-story structure that looked like a warehouse or an office of some sort. Before they reached the door, a young man with cinnamon-brown skin and dark hair stepped out.
“Ah, Ram, there you are,” Captain Tennant greeted him.
Noelle blinked in surprise. The man, Ram, had the tall, lean physique of an experienced seaman, but his handsome face had a youthful glow. He wasn’t the kind of man she expected to greet her on British soil. He was just so…Indian.
“Ram, this is Miss Noelle Walters,” Captain Tennant introduced them. “And Miss Walters, this is Ram Singh, one of my most valued and trusted employees.”
“Sat sri akaal, ji,” Ram put his hands together, bowed, then extended one hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” Noelle took his hand, and a thrill passed through her. She was a long, long way from America, and glad for it.
“While you and the rest of the passengers were gathering your things,” Captain Tennant told Noelle, “I popped down here to look for someone to drive you to Waltham House. Ram volunteered.”
“That’s so kind of you.” Noelle’s smile brightened.
“It’s no problem at all,” Ram said, his accent lilting. “I have a delivery to make to Oxford Street anyhow.”
Captain Tennant laughed and thumped Ram on the back. “See? I chose my employees well. Ram is industrious as well as clever.”
Ram grinned and shrugged. “Are you ready to go?” he asked Noelle.
Noelle’s breath caught in her chest. This was it. Her old life was behind her. She was off the ship and on her way. “You have no idea how ready I am, Mr. Singh.”
“Ram, please.” Ram stepped forward to take Noelle’s carpet bag. “And the wagon is right this way.”
Noelle said her final goodbye to Captain Tennant, turned to take one last look at the ship that had carried her so far, then followed Ram through a short alley and on to the bustling city on the other side of the wharf.
There was activity and people everywhere. Noelle had seen large cities before, but nothing half as busy as London. Even New York hadn’t been as overwhelming, although it had come close. She stayed near Ram as he wove through dock workers and street vendors, businessmen and children that seemed to be running free, and even a few women. Some of the women looked to be part of Noelle’s old profession. They eyed her up as though she were competition. A few of the men sniffing around them gave her curious looks as well, making Noelle second-guess the bright red dress she’d donned for her first day in London.
“Don’t worry about them,” Ram said, stopping beside a small wagon loaded with barrels and crates. “No one with eyes will mistake you for that sort.”
Noelle’s cheeks burned, and she snapped her attention to Ram as he lifted her carpetbag to the wagon’s seat, then extended a hand to help her up. “Has Captain Tennant told you…about me?”
Ram grasped her hand, sending her an apologetic smile. “He’s told me about all of you ladies from Haskell, Wyoming. In fact, I delivered your friend Millie to Starcross Castle in Cornwall last summer. I think the lot of you are very brave.”
The heat in Noelle’s face switched from shame to surprise. She was glad she could focus on climbing up into the wagon’s seat instead of looking directly at Ram. “I wouldn’t say we’re brave.” She slid down the seat as Ram sat beside her. “Desperate for a change is more like it.”
“And it takes real bravery to make that sort of change,” Ram said as he gathered the reins. He nodded to the boy who had been holding the horse still, and as soon as the boy let go, he tapped the horse into motion. “Believe me, I know.”
The wagon lurched as Ram steered through the crowd and onto the thoroughfare. Noelle’s expression lit in surprise. “Do you?”
Ram sent her a sidelong smile, although his attention was needed on driving. It took him a few seconds to merge into the wagon and carriage traffic making its way deeper into the city.
“You might not be aware,” he picked up the conversation with a sly grin as they drove on, “but I was not born in England.”
Noelle flushed and pressed a hand to her cheek, even as she matched his grin. “Of course. You’re from India. You know what it’s like to leave your homeland to start anew somewhere else.”
Ram glanced sideways at her, his smile both proud and teasing. “It wasn’t quite the same decision you had to make, mind you. My family lives in the port city of Karachi. All except my brother, Ajay, who lives here in London. My father, my brothers, my uncles, we are all lascars.”
Noelle blinked. “What is that?”
Ram steered around a scrawny boy who dashed out into the street, glancing over his shoulder as though he were escaping some pursuer, before answering. “A lascar is a man from my homeland, India, who goes to work for the British as a sailor. My father went to work on the same ship as Captain Tennant many years ago. They became friends, and when Captain Tennant earned his own merchant ship, he hired me and Ajay for his crew.”
“Captain Tennant seems like a wonderful man.”
“He is.” Ram nodded. “The very best of men.”
“So, you like making all those sea voyages?” Noelle asked.
Ram laughed. “No, my sailing days are behind me.”
Noelle’s brow knit in confusion. “But if you’re a lascar….”
Ram stole another smiling glance at her before making a turn onto a less busy street. “Three years ago, Ajay lost his leg in a storm at sea.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Noelle pressed a hand to her heart.
Ram nodded. “That was all the warning I needed to begin searching in other directions for my livelihood. I’ve worked on land, in Captain Tennant’s warehouses here in London and in Portsmouth, ever since. But my true ambition lies elsewhere.”
“Where?” Noelle asked, leaning toward him. She liked the way Ram talked, liked the way he unfolded his story for her. It kept her guessing, wondering.
Ram smiled and wiggled his eyebrows. “Look around you. What do you see?”
Noelle glanced at the street they traveled. It was lined with multi-story buildings and a huge amount of traffic. “I see people, too much traffic. I see the colors of every nation. I see men selling fish and fruit, ribbons and fabric. And more shops than I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“Precisely,” Ram said. “You see commerce. Everyone in London is hungry to buy things, whether they are essential things, like food, or frivolous things, like lace or tobacco.”
“You’re right,” Noelle agreed. She drew in a breath, adding the scents of bread and salted meat, exotic spices and smoke from hundreds of chimneys to the sight.
“I want to be the one to sell it to them,” Ram said. He made another turn onto a street where the wagons and carriages were driving faster and continued on.
“You want to be a shopkeeper?” Noelle asked.
“Not just any shopkeeper,” Ram said. “I want to own a new kind of shop. Like Mr. Bainbridge has done.”
“What makes the store new?”
“It sells many things,” Ram explained. “Everything, in fact. It’s organized into departments, and it’s brilliant. Believe me, these department stores are the future of shopping in London, in the world.”
“And you want to own one?” Noelle thrilled at the prospect, even though she’d only just met Ram.
“I do and I will.” Ram nodded. “In fact, I already have the site of my department store picked out.”
“Really? Where?”
“In Oxford Street,” Ram explained. “That’s why I need to make a delivery there once I drop you off at Waltham House.”
“Is Waltham House close to Oxford Street?”
Ram shrugged. “Mayfair is just south of there, which is part of the reason I want to open a shop there. Society shops on Oxford Street.”
“I see. How clever of you.” Noelle smiled, more pleased than she could say at meeting Ram. He made what could have been a nerve-wracking journey to her new home not only bearable, but fascinating.
They drove on, and Ram pointed out everything around them, from tiny shops where friends of his worked, to the great dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral in the heart of London. Noelle tried her best to take it all in, asking questions when they came to her and absorbing the colorful answers Ram gave. It seemed that he knew everything about the city, even though he’d been born half a world away. Noelle hoped that, in time, she would be just as much of an expert about her new home.
By the time they left the bustling thoroughfares of London’s commercial and business districts and headed down the quieter streets of Mayfair, Noelle was exhausted with wonder. Mayfair was its own creature, with beautiful, white-painted houses in neat rows. Some had window-boxes of flowers or bright curtains to please the eyes of passersby, but most were arranged around small squares with their own parks and gardens in the middle.
“Well, here we are,” Ram said at last, pulling the wagon to a stop in front of a stately house with a small, marble porch. A park, complete with trees and a pair of nannies pushing prams and tending smartly-dressed children, stood across the street. “Waltham House.”
Noelle drew in a breath and held it as Ram hopped down and came around to her side of the wagon. “This is it,” she said as he helped her down, fetching her carpetbag once she was on the ground. “This is my new home.”
“Excited?” Ram asked, walking with her to the front door.
“Very,” Noelle told him with a conspiratorial grin.
Ram reached with his free hand to give hers a squeeze. It felt good to already have a friend in her new life.
Noelle questioned whether she was supposed to go to the front door to announce her arrival or not. Millie had written to her, telling the story of her first mistake in England—using the front door of Starcross Castle instead of the servant’s entrance. London could have been different, though, and Ram seemed to think it was all right to approach the front door. He even knocked for her, then stepped back to stand and wait by her side.
And wait.
And wait.
“Maybe they didn’t hear you knock?” she asked, a flutter forming in her stomach.
Ram frowned, stepping forward to knock again, louder.
They continued to wait. At long last, they heard a heavy set of footsteps, and the door opened.
“What do you want?” The man who answered the door was tall and dour. He was dressed in a crisp uniform of sorts, but the buttons of his jacket were undone, as if he’d donned it in a hurry.
“Um,” Noelle said, suddenly anxious. “My name is Noelle Walters. I’m the new maid that’s come over from America.” She didn’t mean to sound questioning as she introduced herself, but instinct told her something wasn’t right. Her elated mood from the drive over popped like a soap bubble.
“The new maid?” the man—who must have been a butler—asked.
“Yes. Noelle Walters.” Noelle prayed that he had at least heard of her.
“Oh, yes,” the butler said, but not at all reassuringly. His face pinched into an awkward expression, and if Noelle wasn’t mistaken, he blushed. “No one told you?”
Worry poured into Noelle’s stomach. She glanced sideways at Ram, cleared her throat, then asked, “Told me what? Lord Waltham is expecting me,” she added in a rush, hoping that would stave off whatever disaster she sensed was about to befall her.
The butler raised an eyebrow. “Lord Waltham is gone.”
Silence followed.
“Gone?” Ram asked.
“Gone,” the butler repeated.
“He’s…he’s not…dead, is he?” Noelle asked in a hush.
Again, the butler’s face twisted into an awkward expression. “For all we know, he might be.”
Noelle’s brow flew up. She glanced to Ram.
Ram met her eyes, just as clueless as she was, then turned to the butler. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that Thursday last, there was an altercation in Hyde Park,” the butler explained, his voice lowered as though he knew he shouldn’t be gossiping. He seemed to want to gossip all the same. “A young lady was involved, Miss Elizabeth Gray, who has lately become engaged to Lord Royston.”
“I don’t know them,” Ram said.
“No, I wouldn’t expect you to.” The butler straightened, glancing down his nose at Ram.
Noelle pursed her lips. She wanted to teach the butler a lesson or two on how to treat people, to tell him that Ram was an entrepreneur who would someday own a magnificent shop. But she also wanted to hear the rest of the story of Lord Waltham.
“The incident caused a scene,” the butler went on. “The police were called to disrupt the fight.” He cleared his throat. “Lord Waltham did not emerge from the confrontation with his dignity or reputation intact.”
Noelle would have given anything to hear more details of what exactly had happened. It must have been a lover’s fight. She’d seen things like that a dozen times in Haskell and in the towns where she’d worked before that, but she supposed that the British nobility handled them differently.
“And now Lord Waltham is missing?” Ram asked.
“He is.” The butler nodded.
“Where is he?” Noelle wondered aloud.
The butler looked at her with disdain. “If I knew that, we wouldn’t be in this mess, would we?”
Noelle flushed over having asked a silly question, but the butler didn’t need to be so rude in answering her. “Well,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “I’m here to take up my position anyhow. Maybe there’s something I can do to help with the house in the meantime.”
