Trying to regain her senses, Riah muttered quickly, ‘Oh, yes, yes of course. I’ll get you all something, yes. Will you give me a hand, Tol?’
‘Aye. Yes, of course, Riah.’
‘And you, you come on with you.’ Riah caught hold of Johnny’s arm and pulled him from his staring, not at Biddy, but at her companion, because he knew who he was, he had seen him out riding with the other masters.
Biddy sat back in the corner of the couch and looked to where the child was lying asleep at the other end. Then her eyes travelled towards Laurence, and she said softly, ‘It’s going to be difficult to explain things because you know what she thought when she saw me with the child?’
‘Yes, I’ve got a good idea.’
‘Well, if she thinks that, others will think the same.’
‘Oh no, they won’t.’ His voice was firm. ‘Not after tomorrow morning when we present the evidence in Grandmama’s boudoir.’
‘What if she were to deny it?’
He rose now from his seat by the fire and, sitting on the edge of the sofa, he said, ‘She couldn’t. I have letters from Lucy. Moreover, there’s the French doctor and Madame Arnaud. I’d go to the lengths of bringing them across if she tried. Oh, I’m not worried. When we present the child to her it will be a fait accompli. And as her word is law in that household, she’ll see that justice is done.’
Once more Biddy didn’t answer, but to herself she said, I wonder.
It was close on midnight. A great deal of talking had been done, mostly by Biddy and Laurence.
That Riah had been astounded at the sight of her daughter bringing home a baby was nothing to what she felt when this man, this gentleman, told her he wished to marry her daughter, and went on to say that he had no money, at least not for another year, and even then his income would be small, being merely three hundred pounds a year, which to her sounded like a fortune, but to him hardly represented boot-blacking money.
What he proposed to do, he told her, was to teach; in fact, they would both teach. Their idea was to start a school. Where, they hadn’t decided yet, but if he could find rooms in Oxford they would soon get going. ‘But Biddy has a house here,’ Riah said. ‘Yes, when you have no further use for it.’ And taking Biddy’s hand, Laurence went on, ‘And we both hope that that won’t be for many, many a long day.’ And Biddy nodded her head confirming his statement with a smile on her face.
Riah looked at Tol, and Tol’s eyes were speaking plainly to her, and what she said next brought Biddy up from the couch: ‘Tol and me are going to be married, and you know the conditions about the house, so there it is. This is yours now and it’s big enough for any school.’
Biddy turned her gaze on Laurence, but her face didn’t show any enthusiasm as she said, ‘But you wouldn’t want to stay here, live here, so close to…?’
‘Oh, that wouldn’t affect me. They have already thrown me off and I them. I…I would be delighted at the idea.’ Laurence looked round the room, got up and walked across to Riah and, taking her hand, he said, ‘Now are you sure of this?’ But before she could answer, Tol put in, ‘I am, sir, and it should have happened a long, long time ago.’
And so it was settled. The only thing there remained to do was to take the baby to madam, then return here and prepare for a wedding, and start a new and exciting life together.
They both knew it wasn’t any use approaching the house by the main gate because, as Riah had said, she had already tried to get in to speak to Mr Gullmington, but the lodgekeeper had his orders and wouldn’t let her through the gates.
So after Tol had dropped them from the cart, they took the servants’ path, but only after climbing the wall, because the gate here, too, was locked, which it had never been before. Laurence had climbed the drystone wall to the side, which at this point was five feet high; Biddy handed him the child, then adeptly she climbed it herself, and when they were both standing on the narrow path, they looked at each other and grinned like two errant children before quickly making their way to the house.
They had both agreed to take the side entrance that led to the west wing. And this they did without being observed until they reached the gallery, and there, coming towards them, was the first footman, James Simpson. His walk was stately, his countenance set in the usual unsmiling mould as befitted his station…until he saw them. Then his composure was completely shattered, and he stammered, ‘Sir…I think, sir.’
‘Get about your business, Simpson.’ Laurence’s voice was a command and he waved the man to one side. Then taking Biddy’s elbow, he led her towards the ornate double doors and through them towards madam’s apartments, there to be confronted by Peggy Tile, the first chambermaid, part of whose duty was to see to the cleaning of the kitchen and the staff quarters on this floor. Standing next to her was Maggie, and at the sight of her sister, Maggie cried, ‘Eeh! Biddy, our Biddy!’
When Maggie rushed towards her, Biddy gently pressed her aside with one hand while she cradled the baby with the other, and she said, ‘Where is Miss Hobson?’
‘She’s with madam.’
‘Is madam still in bed?’
‘Yes. Oh yes. Eeh! Biddy.’ Maggie looked towards the baby; then she added, ‘Will…will I tell madam or Miss…?’
‘No, don’t bother. We’ll announce ourselves.’ Biddy glanced quickly at Laurence, and he, stepping forward, thrust open the bedroom door, allowing Biddy to pass, then closed it quickly behind him. And there they both stood for a moment looking to where, devoid now of her nightcap, madam was sitting bolt upright, staring at them as if she didn’t believe her eyes.
Laurence led Biddy towards the foot of the bed before speaking, and then he said to the old lady, ‘Good morning.’ He had not given her his usual title of Grandmama. And he added, ‘We are sorry to disturb you at this early hour, but we thought you would be eager to see your great-grandchild.’
They both watched the old face quivering, with what emotion they couldn’t tell. When she did speak, it wasn’t to them, but without taking her eyes from them she pointed to Jessie Hobson, saying one word, ‘Out!’ And Jessie shuffled away from the bed after glancing apprehensively at the two figures standing there.
When the communicating door had been closed, and not until then, madam spoke again. ‘What do you expect to gain by this, eh?’ she demanded.
‘Now, now.’ Laurence came round the side of the bed and stood looking down at her. ‘Don’t let us mince words. You sent your granddaughter away because she was going to have a child. Well, she had that child, and she died, and we’ve brought the child to you, because your son won’t recognise she is the daughter of his daughter. Surely—’ he now screwed up his eyes as if to see her better, and paused for a moment before adding, ‘it isn’t possible that you’re going along with him? No, no. You wouldn’t, would you? I know it is a bit of a shock, having your plans go awry…’
She cut in now, her voice extraordinarily vibrant and bitter as she said, ‘My plans going awry, you said? It was to avoid what this person and you here’—she now looked towards Biddy—‘have accomplished that my plan was put into operation in the first place. What does she expect to gain from it? Marriage into the family? Blackmail? Never. Never. Not while I have a breath in me…You are a slut, girl…a slut.’
‘Don’t you dare call Biddy a slut! She has served you and yours without thought of herself. And you’d better know right away. Grand—’ he stopped himself from adding the mama and inserted, ‘Madam, that I wish to make this girl my wife.’
In the silence that ensued the child coughed, but that was the only sound in the room, and as Laurence looked into the wizened face he knew that this news had come as no surprise to her, she must have already been informed of his intentions in this matter.
When she did speak, her voice was no longer loud, but each word was spat at him as she said, ‘You are in a dream, and dreams are made up of irrationalities, and you are bound to wake to reason in a very short time. You have been brought up as a gentle
man, and you were originally from good stock, but to demean yourself by marrying—’ she paused now and held her long, veined hand out flat in Biddy’s direction, before she went on, ‘this which perhaps you have not considered will mean associating with her class. If you want her so much, take her as a mistress. I will condone that, but marriage…no, never! And don’t’—her voice rose again as she stared into his blazing countenance—‘don’t speak until I have finished. Now I am going to address her.’
The bloodshot eyes, like pinpoints of red fire, concentrated now on Biddy, whose face had lost every vestige of colour and whose lips were pressed tight, but ready to spring apart at any moment, and she waited for what this old tyrant, as she thought of her now, had to say to her. And what madam said was, ‘The child, I understand, was christened in your name, also its mother bears your name on her gravestone so the child to all intents and purposes is yours. Now I shall make a bargain with you, miss. I shall settle on you the sum of five hundred pounds, this to be paid immediately. I shall also pay for the child’s upbringing with any respectable family you care to leave it with, if you will promise me to have nothing to do with this young man whom, sorrowfully I say now, I have always looked upon as my grandson. Should you not agree to these terms, then I am afraid you will bring disrepute not only on yourself but on him.’
‘She will never bring disrepute on me.’
Madam turned her face with its furious expression towards Laurence now, crying, ‘No? You marry her; she has a child; who gave her that child? You. Your name would be mud in the county, not because you gave her the child, no, but because you are imbecile enough to act as any local yokel would, and pay for his pleasure. You would be the laughing stock of the county.’
‘You think so?’ Laurence’s face was also white except where the stubble on his chin stood out like a dark shadow. And in a quiet voice that seemed to enrage the old lady even more, he said, ‘I had never imagined you to be naive…wily and machiavellian even, capable of extremely low cunning, but never naive. Take one thing at a time with regard to your granddaughter. First; why, if she died in France, wasn’t her body brought over and placed in the family vault in the churchyard? There’ll be questions asked about that, surely. Secondly, the small fact that she didn’t return for the holidays. Of course, these are not proof that she bore a child, but what is proof she stated in her own handwriting in the letters she sent to me in Oxford.’
They stared at each other for what seemed an interminable time. When she next spoke her voice was quiet too. ‘Do you know I had never imagined anything could happen in life that could make me say that I never want to set eyes on you again. Yes, indeed, you may look sorrowful … and I may add, you will never inherit a penny of mine, you have lost yourself a fortune, for the bulk of all I possess was to go to you.’
He put in harshly now, ‘Only if I had married May?’ And at this she shook her head saying, with a touch of sorrow, ‘No, no. I got over that. But now you will be a penniless nothing all your life.’
His face hardening again, he said, ‘Not so. My mind will provide my livelihood. I won’t need to spend my days like your son and your grandson, wondering what to do to get through them.’
‘That may be so, but you’ll spend your days being shunned by your own kind.’
She turned her head slowly from him now and looked at Biddy, and, her teeth wobbling in her mouth, she muttered, ‘I curse the day, girl, that you came into this room. I go further back to the time when you first came into service here, a washhouse drab, the lowest of the low.’
As Biddy saw Laurence about to protest she put her hand out to him, while hitching the child further up her arm; then looking at her late mistress, she said, ‘In position, yes, madam, but mentally, even at that age, I felt superior to any member of your staff. And not only the members of your staff, because your granddaughter, although I came to have an affection for her, had very little intelligence. As for her brother, he had no mind at all, stables would have been a fitting place for him. I won’t go on to name the rest of your family, madam, you have your own opinion of them which I have listened to you voicing often, so, as you have saddled me with your great-grandchild, I accept the responsibility. She bears my name, yes, and doubtless, you and your family will do your best to prove by gossip that she is mine. And so she shall be, until she reaches the age of reason, and then I shall tell her who she really is, and where her rightful place is. And her adoptive father’—she turned and looked at Laurence—‘will show her the letters from her mother. Madam, I am sorry for you. Remember that, will you? I am sorry for you.’
On this she turned and walked out of the room. And Laurence paused a moment, and, looking at the figure of the old woman who seemed to have swelled to twice her size with an indignation that prevented her speaking, he said softly, ‘I am sorry for you too, Grandmama, but in a different way. The child will be brought up well. I can only promise you this, that we shall wait some time after she reaches her age of reason before we tell her the truth, because rejection at any age is difficult to bear. I can only hope her training will sustain her. Goodbye, Grandmama.’
His jaws were tight when he reached the hallway, there to see Biddy commanding her sister, saying, ‘Do as I tell you, get your things, you’re coming home.’
The girl looked from Biddy to Jessie, and Jessie said softly, ‘It’s all right. Get your things.’
When Maggie scurried away, Jessie, staring at the child, said, ‘So that was it?’ And Biddy answered tersely, ‘Yes, Miss Hobson, that was it. Miss Lucy was sent away to have her child because the disgrace would have been too much for the family to bear. And now the child is too much for the family to bear. They are going to put the onus on me. But you know and I know who she belongs to.’
‘Aye, lass. I guessed it from the first, and when she didn’t come back at Christmas. Yes’—she nodded—‘I know, but you’ll be hard put to make them’—she thumbed to the floor—‘believe this, especially with the tale that’s going round.’
‘What tale?’
Jessie now looked towards Mr Laurence and he said, ‘It’s no tale, Hobson.’
‘I…I just heard a whisper, sir…’
‘Well, the whisper will grow into a shout shortly, and everyone will put two and two together, won’t they?’
‘Yes, likely, sir. ’Tis the way of the world. I’m sorry, sir.’
‘Oh, don’t be sorry for us, Hobson, at least don’t be sorry for me. I might as well tell you, I had no intention of staying here. I had plans to move to Oxford and make that my permanent residence, but now I’ll be living practically on the doorstep, and that will be confusion confounded.’
Jessie looked at Biddy, and Biddy said briefly, ‘The house is mine. Mother is marrying Mr Briston. We are to set up a school there.’
‘Good Go…’
She didn’t finish ‘God’ but added, ‘I…I’m sorry.’ Then she smiled wanly as she went on, ‘You were always a surprise, lass, right from the very beginning. Things always seemed to happen where you were. I think I said that to you once.’
‘Yes, you did. Well, here’s Maggie; we must be off. And, I’d just like to say, Jessie’—she said the name softly—‘thank you for your training. It’ll stand me in good stead in the future.’ She leant forward now and kissed the old woman on the cheek; then turned about and walked through the hall towards the double doors, and there Laurence opened them for her and Maggie, and they passed through and on to the gallery where a number of servants were busily doing nothing and stared in silence at the small party making for the door leading to the back stairs. Then as of one accord they gave an audible gasp as they looked towards the far end of the gallery from where their master was striding towards the intruders who had now stopped and were awaiting his approach.
Anthony Gullmington was not alone. His wife was on one side of him, his son on the other, and they were both remonstrating softly with him. When his wife caught hold of his arm he thrust her off, then bawled at th
e servants, ‘Out of the way!’ before coming to a halt a few yards from where Laurence, Biddy and Maggie stood, the latter visibly shaking.
It was evident to all that rage was preventing the master of the house from speaking for the moment. When eventually the words came the spittle dripped from his mouth with them.
‘How…how dare you, sir, enter my house without my permission and…and bring that…that slut with you! I could have you both horsewhipped and thrown out bodily…bodily. I have only to…to say the word.’
‘Why don’t you? Most of the servants are within earshot.’
‘You…you damned upstart! I’ll…I’ll—’ As he made to spring forward Stephen caught hold of him by both arms, saying, ‘Father. Father, enough!’
‘Enough, you say. Enough, after all I’ve done for him? He’s an ungrateful swine.’
His countenance showing an almost equal anger, Laurence cried, ‘Ungrateful, never! And what I’ll have you understand, sir, is, it was in gratitude that I protected your daughter and tried to spare your family the disgrace it wouldn’t have been able to bear. Granted it was on the suggestion of madam, but I carried it out. And this’—he pointed to the child that Biddy was pressing tightly to her—‘is the result. She is…’
Two things at the moment stopped his flow; the look of entreaty on the face of the woman who had been his adoptive mother, and whom he had never liked, as she implored, ‘Please. Please, Laurence’; the other, the blow that caught him on the shoulder and sent him reeling back towards the staircase door.
The Black Velvet Gown Page 39