Workhouse Waif

by Elizabeth Keysian

  “Come now, Miss Hart—you’re not shy, surely? You’ll love it. And I doubt Mrs Creegan will be there, certainly not for long. But it’ll be a chance for you to meet more of the townsfolk. All the factory workers go, and the children—although they get packed off to bed quite early. You should go—really, you should.”

  “All the townspeople go? Do the Froggatts go, and their friends?”

  “Everyone, I understand. I’ve missed it most years though, through being away.”

  “Oh.” Bella sat down, suddenly feeling tired after her exertions. But when she’d been dancing with Jack, she hadn’t noticed any weariness at all. “I shan’t go.”

  “Haven’t I persuaded you, then?”

  “No. I don’t think it’s going to be the sort of company I want to keep.”

  Jack was silent for a while. For a foolish moment, she hoped he might offer to take her. Wasn’t that what young men did? Her heart thudded at the thought. But all he said was, “I’m sorry to hear it.”

  She looked at his bent head, his long, clever fingers twining in and out of each other on his lap. “Is there something wrong?”

  “Hmm. In a way. Listen,” he said suddenly, lifting his head and fixing his grey eyes on hers. “There’s something about me that you don’t seem to have guessed.”

  “What? Does it have to do with the dance?”

  “No, it has nothing to do with the dance. Although it does have to do with why I can’t offer to take you, even though we’d do so well together. It’s to do with you and me and the fact that we’re in here alone together, and the fact that we went to the factory after hours and—oh, there’s all sorts of reasons why it’s wrong.”

  “What’s the matter, Jack? You must tell me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

  “It’s exactly that friendship I need to talk to you about. I don’t want to hurt you, or make you feel stupid—I mean, your life’s been tough enough already without feeling people are betraying you. So, I’d better explain myself now. Yes, I will tell you, and I hope you won’t think any the less of me for it.”

  He had taken her hand now, and Bella felt anxious, even though she liked the feel of his fingers around hers.

  “You don’t know who I am, do you? You haven’t even guessed. Because if you had, you wouldn’t be so… natural with me.”

  “I know your name’s Jack and you work as an engineer at Henstridge’s Mill and live in Warbury—although I don’t know where. I don’t know your second name.” She brought her free hand to her mouth and stared at him over the top of it. “You’re not a Froggatt, are you? Or a Tullard?”

  “Why, would that make me your enemy, then? No, you’re too young to have enemies. And I can promise you I’m not related to the Creegans in any way.” He almost grinned, but then he gripped Bella’s hand harder. “No, it’s worse than that, in a way… for you. I live at Henstridge Hall. I’m brother to Harriet, who you’ve met, and son to John Henstridge, the owner of the mill. I’m one of those gentry folk you’re so scathing about. And if anybody knew about the other night, or came upon us now, like this,” and he raised their joined hands, “there’d be conclusions drawn and cruel talk. No, don’t pull away. I don’t want you to hate me. I’m saying this for your own good.”

  “It isn’t true—it can’t be true! This is just another one of your jokes.”

  His jaw tightened, and he gazed into her eyes and shook his head.

  She sank back like a puppet whose strings had just been cut. His revelation struck at her like a physical pain, constricting her throat, knotting her stomach. She wanted to lash out at that smooth, handsome face of his, throw all the insults she had learned in the workhouse at his head. Jack, who had been her friend… had deceived her. Was he now to become her enemy?

  “Look. Don’t take it badly. It was stupid of me not to make things clear before, I know, but I didn’t mean anything by it. I never meant to hurt you. The last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you, which is why I needed to tell you as soon as I could.”

  Dragging her hand free of his, she rose to her feet, saying, “I don’t want to think about this now. I don’t even want to talk to you. You’re as bad as the rest of them, just the same. Go away, leave me alone.”

  “Look, I beg you—don’t be upset.”

  “I’m not upset,” she hissed. “I’m furious!”

  He was on his feet now too, trying to catch hold of her so she would listen to his explanation. But at that moment someone knocked on the schoolroom door.

  Chapter 28

  Bella, glad of an excuse to end the painful scene, moved to open the door.

  Jack leapt forwards. “No, leave it! What did I just say to you? It would look really bad for you if someone found me here.”

  “You should have thought of that before.” She glared at him. What if it was something urgent? She scrambled up onto one of the forms to peer out of the high window.

  “Why, it’s Mr Merriwether.”

  Jack let out an oath. “Whatever can he be doing here? If he sees me, he’ll have a field day. Listen, I’ll go out through the back yard. Don’t open that door until you hear me close this one. What I’ve just told you, what we were saying—I haven’t finished yet. I’m not sure you understand… I don’t want to leave it like this. Bloody Georgie!” He swore again, then squeezed her elbow before hurrying out the back door.

  Bella sucked in a breath and forced herself not to look cross or peevish.

  Mr Merriwether greeted her with a beaming smile. “Ah, Miss Hart. Not escaped the tedium and toil of the schoolroom as yet, eh? Perhaps you will allow me to give you a little respite from your labours?”

  If it was bad for her to be seen with Jack Henstridge, then it might be just as bad to be seen with George Merriwether. But she wasn’t sure she liked Jack so very much at the moment. He mightn’t like it if she made up to his friend.

  “Come in, Mr Merriwether, come in.” She spoke loudly, in case Jack was still within earshot. “It’s good to see you—it really is.”

  He doffed his hat, then looked around the schoolroom. “Very tidy, very neat. I congratulate you, Miss Hart, although I could see from the first you were an exceptional woman. Fortunately, I never had to take my lessons in a place such as this, but if I had, I’m sure I could not have asked for a better teacher. Nor a prettier one.” He winked.

  She gave him her sweetest smile. She hoped Jack was watching—that the two-faced mongrel was hearing all this.

  “Please, sit down,” Merriwether was saying. “This is an informal social call.” Unable to find another adult-sized chair, he settled himself on the edge of Bella’s desk. “I trust you have been keeping well since our last meeting?”

  “I have, thank you.”

  “Good. And are all your little charges proving worthy of your efforts?”

  “Some I think, yes.”

  “I’m certain you’re looking forward to the holiday, are you not? Only a few days to go before the Summer Dance and the break after that when the factories close down. Tell me, will Warbury’s newest resident be gracing the ball?”

  He meant her. She drew her hands over her face. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Don’t tell me there is no handsome beau to escort the beautiful Cinderella to the ball? I feared as much. In that case, you will go with me. No, no need to thank me.” He waved his hand as she tried to speak. “It is no sacrifice, I assure you. I shall be delighted to call for you, at about eight o’clock, after the children have been sent home from the dance. It becomes more civilised after that.”

  Could there be any harm in it? She knew Merriwether was as good as engaged to Harriet Henstridge. And Jack wasn’t going to go—and even if he changed his mind, he’d made it quite plain that he couldn’t possibly take her. But wouldn’t he be annoyed when he found out she’d gone with his best friend?

  “I’d love to come with you, so long as Miss Henstridge wouldn’t mind.”

  Mr Merriwether clapped his hands together in d
elight. “Bravo, Miss Hart! Let me reassure you that Harriet has condoned my visit since she is as keen as I to see you brought into the fold. She’ll be attending the rout with her family, so doesn’t need me in attendance all evening. Thus, I can happily be spared to accompany you.”

  “Thank you, sir. I will see you at eight o’clock.”

  “Shall I bring the carriage?”

  “Oh, no.” She brought her hands up to her cheeks. “I’m not too fine to walk.” A carriage would be grandeur beyond her wildest dreams, though, wouldn’t it? “Well, maybe, if—and only if—it’s raining.”

  As she closed the door on George Merriwether’s back, she imagined Jack seeing her turn up to the ball, all in splendour, in the carriage. That would make him green, no mistake, and it would serve him right. All because he was too mean to ask her himself, because he was too far above her, and she too far below him—and he cared what people thought. Well, she didn’t. She began to hope it would rain in buckets and she might have to go in a carriage on Saturday night, and make them all as jealous as hell!

  Chapter 29

  Annie Tullard leaned her back against the wall of the old market hall and turned her head to look about the room. It was a large space, not unlike the halls in the workhouse, but she’d never seen the Union so full of people, all with smiles on their faces. She took an unladylike swig from her full mug of beer and grinned widely.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever bin happier in me life than I am at this moment,” she told her companion, one of the many people she’d met in the last week. This particular new friend was a small, weasel-like girl called Mags, but Annie liked her, for she recognised a spiteful streak in the girl, not unlike her own.

  “Them warders and the Uphills never knew what they was missing, stuck inside that place. By, but this is the life. And working at Henstridge’s is like lying on a cloud compared to where I’ve been.”

  “Yes, you said. Shall I show you the Henstridges when they come in?”

  “That’s funny, Mags—what do you plan to do, march up to them and say, ‘Please Sir, meet my friend Annie, and by the way, she’s a lowlife factory girl?’ Get on with you. I’ve nothin’ to do with them an’ I’ll be grateful if they have nothin’ to do with me neither. Not after what poor Marie’s goin’ through. I wouldn’t have any truck with those rich folk—they’re all the blooming same.”

  “Why didn’t Marie come? She’ll have needed cheering up, won’t she?”

  “Now really, child,” said Annie, placing her fists on her hips and rounding on the girl. “Would you have come out in her condition? Do you fancy havin’ people point at you and say you were a slut, a sinner, a fool? No, folks don’t forgive easily—I’ve discovered that in me time. I’ve seen many a poor woman thrown into the Union because no one’s prepared to help her after she’s been cast out by her family.”

  “But everyone likes Marie—they wouldn’t do that.”

  “Well, she gathered friends alright in the workhouse, but I don’t know that it’s the same here. I don’t mind what she’s done because I’ve seen so many others done the same thing. But in this place, it’s a scandal, isn’t it? Mayhap if it’d been with one of her own kind, folk wouldn’t have gossiped and grumbled quite so much, but she reached a bit far above her station. There was never any hope of a marriage there—that’s what’s so disappointing to the family.”

  “Is she sure he’s the father? Couldn’t it’ve been someone else, some bloke who could be worked on a bit?”

  “She swears blind it were George Merriwether. I don’t suppose he’s any better than the next man when it comes to that sort of temptation. She’s tried real hard to get some money out of him, but he won’t give ground, the stingy bugger. But I reckon it could’ve been worse. Oh, Mags, you should have seen what went on in the Union. You should have heard the stories.”

  “Yes, you’ve told me most of them. Look, couldn’t we go and dance? I’m aching for a dance. I’m sure Willy Mullett will give us one if I can just catch his eye.”

  After Mags had moved away, Annie was joined by Marie’s mother and aunt, and a couple of other townswomen. Betty Froggatt was wearing a tragic face that seemed to win her sympathy wherever she used it, and a few free drinks into the bargain. She was making the best of it while it lasted.

  “It’s so lovely to have you in Warbury, Annie, and at such a difficult time for me and mine. Marie’s been ever so pleased about your visits—I swear she’d have gone into a decline if you hadn’t come out when you did.”

  Annie moved her mug out of the way as Betty swayed forwards, then righted herself again.

  “I’m pleased meself—I like the work, the people—and I like even better the dance and the music and the fact that some of the drinks is on the masters. This’ll be me first summer ball ever, and it won’t be me last.”

  “You should find a young fella to dance with,” Betty advised, breathing heavily in her ear. “They’ll all be most amenable, I’m sure.”

  “I can bide me time, Missis, I can bide me time. But now then—who’s this? A very fine, handsome fellow indeed. Rich too, by the look of it.”

  Betty Froggatt revolved slowly and looked towards the door. Then she waggled her head up and down and puffed out her chest as if she was having trouble breathing. Annie clutched at her and tried to steady her.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “It’s him.” Betty spat messily on the floor. “That’s the fella as brought my Marie down. Mr George Merriwether. And by God, look who’s come in with him! Of all the brass-nosed—”

  Annie stiffened, and her head swung up to look at Bella where she stood uncertainly by Georgie’s side, peering around the room. When Bella’s gaze met hers, she pushed away her own astonishment, enjoying the shock of recognition, the pallor that flooded the other girl’s face.

  Chapter 30

  “Georgie, I have to go. Take me out of here, please.”

  “What? But we’ve only just arrived. I’ve not had my dance yet.”

  Bella tugged at his sleeve, peeping beneath her eyelashes at the unwelcome figure at the back of the room. “Please. There’s someone here I don’t want to see—at least, not now.”

  “Pah! You’d let someone ruin your evening, just like that? Hold your head up, Miss Hart, and don’t let them triumph. And if it gets uncomfortable, point them out to me, and I’ll have a word with them for you.”

  At that moment Mrs Froggatt rocked to her feet and tottered towards them. Her beady eyes pierced first Bella, then Georgie as she came on, but at the last moment, she veered to one side, shoving Bella sharply in the ribs.

  “Well, really!” Georgie puffed out his chest in outrage.

  Bella felt herself pale, but kept her jaw set firm. “I’m all right—it could have been worse.”

  “Was that the person you meant?”

  “No, but I don’t doubt a friend of theirs.”

  Georgie sucked in a breath. “I’ll go after her and get her to jolly well explain herself.”

  “No, no. As you said, we won’t let it spoil our evening. Were we going to have a dance?”

  She had to recover herself. It’s all in the past. We meet on different terms now. I’m no longer a nobody, and I’ve got friends, powerful friends. Now Annie hasn’t got Mrs Uphill to lean back on, what can she do? And Mrs Froggatt might not have meant anything—she was obviously drunk.

  As Georgie found a space for them to dance together, he said, “So who was that unpleasant woman that elbowed you?”

  “Mrs Froggatt. Why are you holding my hand so tight?”

  “Forgive me.” Georgie was staring out over the heads of the throng to the group of women from which Mrs Froggatt had come.

  “Are you looking for somebody?”

  “I think I see the problem now.” His voice sounded flat. “My dear Miss Hart, you may be assured that Mrs Froggatt was not directing her displeasure at you. It is I who am the target of her disdain.”

  “You? Why—I d
idn’t know she knew you.” Bella looked in the same direction and discovered she and Georgie were the centre of attention for the group of sulky-looking females at the back. His dancing had become awkward as if his mind were not on the steps.

  She pointedly turned her head away from the watchers. “Do you know Mrs Froggatt?”

  He gave her a wan smile. “This is not the time and the place to talk of something which has caused me great embarrassment. But as we have agreed to continue regardless of the killing looks coming from behind, I shall put a brave face on it. Only you must try and look happy too as if we’re having a perfectly normal conversation.”

  What followed was a bit like acting in a play. Bella, a smile pasted on her face, whirled and skipped across the dance floor while Georgie, whenever the dance steps brought him within earshot, gave her his version of events concerning his dealings with Marie Froggatt. She had been brazen from the start, he said, winking and waggling her hips at him. Not only him but at all the other menfolk in the establishment. She was no beauty—a remark with which Bella agreed—but one had to understand that it could be very difficult for a man to ignore such provocative behaviour. Georgie had never meant for it to happen—he’d been almost out of his mind with drink at the time, the result of a spat with Harriet that had unsettled him. One drink had led to another, and then Marie had been there. She’d come in to clear up, and when she boldly told him it was unhealthy to drink alone in the dark, he’d offered her a glass, and it had gone on from there.

  They’d only been together once—he’d been so sickened with himself when he looked at her warped, smirking face the next day, he’d nearly vowed to give up drink on the spot.

  “Despite her accusations and the tittle-tattle, there’s no proof that I’m the father. As I said, I was not the only member of the household in her sights, and more than once, I have seen her emerge from the stables looking less than tidy. It wouldn’t surprise me at all were her child to have red hair, just like Sandy Pershore, the youngest groom.”