by Wendy Reakes
Rain became sober again. She shook her head in despair.
Marley lifted her chin. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a bundle of six letters.
Rain frowned as her mother handed them to her. She looked at the one on top, where her name had been scribed in blue ink. She didn’t understand…
“They are from Edward.” Marley allowed her to digest the information before she carried on. “They were sent to Porter over a period of time. I kept them from you.”
Rain was shocked. Kept from her…letters…from Edward?
“I’m sorry, my darling. I was wrong to keep them.” She placed her hand over Rains, holding the letters. “Read them, Rain,” her mother said. “Read them and let me know what you intend to do.”
Rain watched her leave. It was the first time she’d noticed her mother with a slight curve to her back. As if she had lived in the attic for so long that she had unintentionally bent her back for to avoid knocking her head.
Rain looked down at the bundle in her clutched hands and she opened the one on top.
Dearest, Rain. Forgive my boldness. I pray your uncle won’t consider my manner insolent or disrespectful in any way.
Rain paused reading as she considered the implications of receiving letters from Edward when he believed she lived in Taunton with her mother. How could he have known that she had lived above him for most of his life?
Rain, my darling, I am frightfully in love. You have bewitched me, as no other has been bewitched and I must beseech you to return my affection when you have considered the matter.
Rain gasped. A noise that escaped her lips without meaning to and without due force.
What a shame that the ceremonies had to be partaken. If I had been left to my own devices, I would never have let you go. As it was, when I tried to find you, your uncle said you had retired and that he hardly thought it was suitable for me to go knocking on your door so late.
She imagined him knocking on Porter’s door, when all that time she had returned to the attic.
…I am undeserving…unworthy of your affection, yet here I am, unable to sleep after you had danced in my arms.
Of course, I was careless, unappreciative of propriety, when all I could imagine was loving you with all my body and soul. Your uncle surely considers me to be a thoughtless rake, not to have considered the scandal I would cause to you, my dearest, by turning up at your door.
For that I am remorseful, but I am not sorry for loving you, because loving you is the happiest thing I have ever experienced. Now, all I ask is that you reciprocate…
Rain opened the next letter.
…Of course, you could never love me, as I love you, because that would be everything I wish for and dream about. And of course, how could you love this wretch, as this wretch loves you. You are so beautiful; how could you possibly agree to love me in return?
Another letter…
If I knew where you lived with your mother in Taunton, I would have addressed these letters directly to her, so that she may deem it suitable for you to receive them.
Another…
I must leave tomorrow. I am to serve alongside my father, fighting for our country. It is the proudest thing I have done, except for loving you…
Farewell, dearest Rain. Perhaps you would write to me. I would wear your words against my heart without fail…
…deeply in love…
Do you reciprocate? I could only dream of such a reward…
Rain put the letters in a neat pile and placed them in the pocket of her coat. Oh, Edward.
Chapter 32
Porter forced the axe into the wood, splitting the piece with one hit. His dog a sheepdog called Blackie, sat watching him in silence. Between them, a stack of logs remained untouched, awaiting the force of Porter’s sharpened blade. In the distance, behind them, a tumbledown hut, open at one side, housed the broken firewood. The morning mist had crept away, leaving a plane of green, still damp with lingering dew. The air was cold, chilling bones, yet Porter’s back was coated in sweat as he laboured and toiled.
Celia’s approach was quiet. She didn’t want to disturb a man from his work, but now was the only time she could afford, before the day began. With his back to her, his muscles flexed against the strain of his action as if he was hell bent on pulverizing that wood. She neared him, but in hindsight, she wished she’d called his name first, fearing startling him. “Mr Porter.”
He didn’t turn around. He just kept doing what he was doing. She felt sure he’d heard her.
“Mr Porter,” she said again. “Michael.”
He stopped and threw down his axe. He turned to look at her, but she sensed he already knew it was she. “Miss Celia.”
“Marley was saying how little we see of you these days.” It was true. Marley had asked for him every day, ever since he’d given her those letters from master Edward. He had stopped coming. No longer her ardent admirer. That’s how Marley saw it.
“Please, tell Marley I will come and see her soon. I have had much to do with Christmas coming. That tree for one.” He pointed to a sixteen-foot fir tree, to be erected in the front hall for the family.
“They will still be celebrating this year, Mr Porter? What with the Master dead, and the war happening and all!”
“Not celebrating, as much as going through the motions. I expect Miss Celia. The young un’s will be coming up from the village to sing their carols like they do every year. The mistress wanted the tree up for that.”
“Oh, yes, I see.”
He began picking up the blocks of wood he’d cut. Throwing them onto a wheelbarrow. He didn’t miss once.
“Is there something wrong, Michael?”
“Don’t reckon none, miss.”
Celia frowned, unhappy with his response, and truthfully, confused. “Marley has missed you.”
“Oh, aye. I don’t think that’s true.”
“Why do you say that? She has affection for you. You must know.”
“I don’t reckon,” he answered.
“Why?”
“Asked her to wed me, I did. She turned me down.”
“What? I didn’t know…I…she didn’t tell me.”
He shrugged as if he was hiding his true feelings. He stood up and stared at her from his great height. “I told you once before, Miss. No one’s gonna marry a man with a false leg. Especially a fine young lass as Miss Marley.”
“Did she say that?” Celia was shaken to the core. Marley had changed a lot over the years, becoming quite bitter on occasions, but she still loved her as her one true friend and she would stand by her to the ends of the earth. But, this! Now she had gone too far in Celia’s opinion.
“She just said I must surely be joking. Hurt me to the quick that did.”
That did it. Celia suddenly flew into a rage, a rage she’d never experienced before in her life. Yes, she’d gotten mad at times, but this, well, her blood was boiling, and it was about to spurt out the top of her head.
Next, without another word on the matter, she stormed off, leaving Porter truly bemused.
By the time Celia got up to the attic, two hours had passed. She’d been waylaid by the other servants huddled over the newspaper in the servants dining hall. She’d gone in and squeezed herself between the cook and the scullery maid. The headlines said it all.
Cut Back Orders - Government urges all upper classes to cut back, to allow servants to serve their country in the war effort.
Celia’s heart had missed a beat, which distracted her from her pending altercation with Marley. Suddenly and more importantly, Marley’s position, hiding in the attic of Wilbury House, had become very precarious. If Celia were let go…Porter too…how could Marley possibly stay?
She glimpsed some other news items on the bottom of the front page. Women taking men’s work in factories…And…Londoners attack Germans in the street, set shop on fire.
Yes, thought Celia, as she made her way up the stairs. Big changes were coming.
Marley had been encouraging Rain to start a painting. The sky was so blue and crisp, shouldn’t she make good use of her time? But Rain was unsettled, agitated, not herself.
“What’s wrong little one?” she asked.
She signed her reply. ‘That’s just it, mama. I’m not little anymore.’ She rolled her eyes.
“You’re right.” Marley took her hands and looked at her from head to toe. “You are a lovely young lady. You’re all grown up.”
Rain’s expression softened. She closed her beautiful eyes and when she opened them again, she looked relieved, as if she had just made an important decision.
‘Mama…’
“Wait, darling. Let me just say this.”
She guided her to the bed, where they had sat so many times over the years. “You see, darling. We are different, you and I. We were given a bad deal. It wasn’t my fault or yours…it was just how it was to be, you see?”
Rain shook her head, but she stopped her from using her hands to speak. She just needed to say something, so that she could understand. “I know you think you are in love with…master Edward.” She could hardly speak his name. “But people like them…gentry…they are different from us. You could never fit into their world. You have no name, no family, no dowry. These things would be expected, you see.”
Tears rolled down her daughter’s face. Her heart ached at the thought of hurting her feelings with such harsh words.
“Marley.”
She turned to see Celia standing at the entrance to the attic parlour. “We need to talk.”
“Rain, go and read your book,” Marley said. She was wiping her eyes with a linen handkerchief, a gift from Celia for her birthday. Obstinately and daringly, she remained where she stood.
She had never known her to refuse anything she’d asked of her. “You see how she disobeys her mother.” She fired the question at Celia. “Look how everything has changed. Didn’t I tell you…Celia? Didn’t I tell you?”
Celia began to cry, and Marley rushed to her side, telling her to stop her tears. “Don’t take on, so.” She was truly remorseful for speaking so harshly to her.
She retrieved a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her nose. “I’m sorry…for everything, dearest Marley,” she croaked.
“Shush, now. You have been the greatest friend anyone could ever wish for. Stop crying now.”
Suddenly a noise came from the forest of furniture. The three of them became silent, their eyes wide with anticipation as the footsteps became louder…nearer.
Porter came into the parlour and they all breathed once more.
“Michael,” Marley said. “It’s good to see you.” She wanted to run into his arms, so pleased was she that he had come at last.
Then he spoke, his voice deep and commanding. “Marley, in front of the women you love, I have come to say something, which I hope you won’t take offence at.”
“I…” Stepping towards him, she was mesmerised. Celia and Rain stood together, watching.
He held up his hand. “Please let me say what I came to say.”
She nodded without taking her eyes from his face. He was so handsome, desirable.
“I am unworthy. I know that, but, Marley…I think you love me as I love you…perhaps not as deeply but…”
“But…” She tried to intervene, to tell him…but he silenced her once more.
“Marley, I made a sore mess of my proposal of marriage, so I have come here today to ask properly, in front of the women you love, for your gentle hand.” He removed a small box from his pocket. He opened it to display a gold band set with three white stones. “This was my grandmother’s, and then my mother’s, and now I give it to you, if you would only say yes.”
She stepped forward so that they were almost touching. She looked at the ring, with a history etched into it. For as long as she could remember, she had sorely wanted that. “I will marry you, dear Michael. I love you with all my being.”
He gasped when he heard the words leave her lips, as if he couldn’t believe what she was saying. He took the ring from her and placed it on her finger.
It was a moment seventeen-years in the making, and that single gesture made her weep with utter joy.
Chapter 34
Christmas Eve came and still no news of master Edward. Celia spoke of the worry the mistress felt when she hadn’t heard a word from him for over a month. Rain was heartbroken. Marley resembled her to a bird that had lost its wing.
But deep down…
She prayed to everything she held dear, that Edward, like his father, would take a bullet and not come back. God forgive her.
Michael’s promise of marriage had been another change in Marley’s life when so many changes were taking place. It was daunting, but she loved him dearly…yet, to go outside…back into the world…well, she stayed up at night fearing that very thing.
Michael had inherited the land and the broken-down cottage as the master had promised him years ago. Even when Michael had disappeared, taken to serve in the Spanish American war, the master still made good his promise in his Will. Michael was now doing up the place, ready for us to move in after the marriage nuptials, to live together, out in the open, as man and wife.
It seemed that love was in the air.
Celia came up to the attic one morning and showed Marley a ring she wore on her left hand. “The footman, Lancelot has offered marriage. He will take me to his place of work in a house in Bridgewater. I have secured the post of housekeeper. It is all arranged.”
She said the words as if she had rehearsed them over and over. The news came as a complete shock. Marley had no idea Celia was having a relationship with any man. She hadn’t said a word.
Lancelot Brown had been let go by the mistress, as a contribution to the war effort. Many of the servants had gone the same way. The mistress felt that such a large staff was a poor reflection on her as the mother of the master of the house, Edward, Earl of Wilbury. The only staff to remain was the cook, the kitchen maid, two scullery maids, the groom, the groundsman, Porter, and Celia, the housekeeper. The old butler had died three years previous, and he’d never been replaced, since the family claimed they were unable to find another as loyal as he.
“You never told me.” Marley looked at Celia as if she was a stranger to her. She had a life beyond the attic, which she had never realised before. That shook Marley to the core.
“If you were going to stay here in the attic, I wouldn’t have accepted him,” she said. “I would have stayed with you.”
“But Celia…”
“There’s no more to be said, darling. You are to leave the attic and resume your life with Porter. You will naturally take Rain with you, if Edward doesn’t propose marriage to her.”
Marley’s head was spinning. “Propose...?”
“Don’t say anything now. Please, Marley. I couldn’t bear it.” Her voice croaked. “I will come again this evening when I bring something for your supper.”
And then she was gone.
That evening, she came to the attic, bringing with her some fresh bread, two slices of cheddar and a boiled egg, which they cut in half; half for Marley and half for Rain.
Rain ran into her arms and hugged her. “I’m so desperately happy for you, darling Celia.”
That was true. Marley had shared the news with Rain and she was, like any young woman, deliriously happy for her adopted aunt.
Celia shrugged as if she was playing down the matter of her engagement. She was looking at Marley. Waiting to see her reaction now that the news had sunk in. She got up from her chair and embraced Celia. Her tense body relaxed when Marley pulled away.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
“How many times must I tell you, that you are the dearest friend a wretch like me could ever have. That will never change.”
“Thank you. Both of you.”
“Besides,” said Marley. “You’ll surely come and visit us in the attic from time to
time.”
Marley had no idea why Celia and Rain were now looking at her in stunned silence as if she’d said something strange.
Chapter 35
RAIN
Her poor, dear mother. Rain thought looking at Marley in stunned silence. She signed, ‘But mother, soon you will go to live with Porter, will you not?’
It took Marley a moment to realise her mistake. Then she shrugged it off. “Well, of course I meant that. Celia will come to visit us in Michael’s house…yes, of course. That is certainly what I meant.”
Celia put her hand around Rain’s waist. It was a gesture of reassurance, after her mother’s blunder. “Soon, we will all begin new lives. How will we cope with all this change? Celia remarked with a light-hearted chuckle.
Sombrely, Marley shook her head. “I really don’t know, Celia,” she sighed. “I really don’t know.”
The following day, Rain was roughly sketching her next piece of art. Her mood was dark when she planned the sky of black, grey and red brushstrokes over barren wasteland. It wouldn’t be the most cheerful of paintings, but it would be visually dramatic and engaging. She looked forward to Celia bringing her a new sheet to stretch on the large frame she and Marley had created. The piece was going to be her biggest yet and her most daring.
Suddenly, Celia burst into the parlour declaring that master Edward was to arrive on the five o’clock train. She’d heard it straight from the mouth of the mistress when she asked Celia to do out his room; to put fresh sheets on the bed and to light the fires so that it was comfortable and warm for his arrival.
Rain’s heart fluttered with every word spoken. All at once she had her own words to speak, but they would not come.
Celia and Marley hugged each other with great emotion. But then Rain saw her mother’s expression change, when Marley’s thoughts went somewhere dark.
Later that day, when Porter cam to the attic, Rain handed him a letter, addressed to Master Edward. Marley was out on the terrace with her own thoughts, toying with some dead leaves on her potted plants. “Rain,” Michael said. “I can’t deliver this letter without your mother’s permission.”