Untitled

by Wendy Bayne

  Father replied with a chuckle, “So it would seem, Ramsey and Charity along with their mother will be calling tomorrow. Perhaps I’ll spend some time with Samuel tomorrow that will give you a chance to get acquainted with our neighbours.” I gave him a disparaging look but he merely smirked. “Let’s go tell your mother, shall we.”

  In the study Aunt Mary was seated behind the desk with Mother standing beside her, holding several papers in her hands. They seemed to have just finished with whatever they had been planning so I handed Aunt Mary the cards as Mother looked over her shoulder. They simultaneously groaned, Mother dropped down into a chair and Aunt Mary closed her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Well, Irene, there is nothing to be done for it. Beth must use all her considerable skill and make you a vision of loveliness tomorrow.”

  My father frowned, protesting, “She’s always a vision.”

  Aunt Mary waved at him. “Of course, she is, Colin, but this is female business. We must rise to the occasion!” She looked my mother up and down. “I suppose diamonds would be a bit a much for you, my dear.” Then shaking her head said, “Never in the afternoon in any case.” She tapped her fingers on the desk as if an idea had struck her. “I have it, Irene, your jade would look wonderful with your pale green silk. It will make your complexion iridescent.” Now looking me over from head to toe, “Clarissa, I will speak to Meg, but I think your cream dress with the peach floral print will be a perfect complement to your mother, it will bring out your hair’s auburn highlights and she should weave a darker shade of peach ribbon through your hair. Yes, I think that will be perfect.” Father was shaking his head and smiling.

  My aunt was still deep in thought, but I couldn’t curb my curiosity, so I inquired, “What are going to wear, Aunt Mary?”

  “I, my dear, will be wearing my diamonds and a lilac gown.” Mother arched her brow, but Aunt Mary just waved her hand at her. “I can afford to be eccentric, my dear, but I think the Clarkes will be very impressed with a Dowager Countess in diamonds. I’m hoping for them to be absolutely devastated by all of us. Now I must go to Samuel and bring him his beef tea.”

  I opened my mouth, but Papa shook his head as he said to her, “I was just with him, Aunt Mary, and he was asleep.”

  She puckered her lips then nodded. “Still perhaps I should check to see if he is feverish.”

  Father coughed. “I should have mentioned when we—I left him, he was sleeping soundly without a trace of a fever either. I assure you that Dalton has everything well in hand, but Samuel was very tired after making the effort of talking to me.”

  Aunt Mary glared at him over her spectacles. “Really, Colin, did you have to question him so soon. He’s suffered a terrible trauma.”

  Father moved to sit beside Mother as he shrugged, “I had to collect information about the attack while it was still fresh in his mind. I’ve promised Mr Spencer that he could interview him tomorrow, so I suggest we let Samuel get as much rest as possible, Dalton is sitting with him.”

  Aunt Mary sighed, clasping her hands in her lap. “I suppose you’re right, dear boy. Well, in that case I shall write a few letters before we dress for dinner.”

  I stood to follow her out…after all, I owed my Uncle Samuel an apple tart…so I excused myself by saying, “I’m going to read for a bit before I change my dress AGAIN for dinner. London life is exhausting.” Mother and Father both snickered as I left the room and closed the door. I watched Aunt Mary walk down the hall and enter the small writing room, closing the door behind her. Now how was I going to steal a tart and get it upstairs without being caught?

  I looked around no one was in the hallway, so I started to walk towards the braised door just as Murphy came through it, holding a small basket. “Here you go, miss, I heard that you’d be needing a few things for Mr Hughes, so I took the liberty of collecting them for you.” He handed the basket to me and bowed slightly.

  I peered quickly under the cover and there was the apple tart on top. “Thank you, Murphy! Thank you very much. But how did you know?”

  “A message from your father, miss, whilst you were studying the cards left by the Clarkes.” He kept a straight face, but the corner of his mouth was twitching.

  Now I was perplexed. “A message, how on earth did he do that? I didn’t see him give you anything.”

  “No, miss, you wouldn’t, there are other ways to pass messages on without writing them down. It’s a trick your father learned on the continent. It’s very handy, miss.” I raised my brow and stared at him thinking back to when I stood here with my father. I couldn’t recall him doing anything unusual at the time. Wait the tapping, he had been tapping the other cards on the table while he told me Murphy’s story. There was obviously more going on in this household than met the eye. Murphy was smiling kindly at me as if he had heard my thoughts. “Now you best scoot along before someone catches you, some may not approve of us seeing to Mr Hughes’s comfort.” Then he winked at me.

  That made me immediately suspicious of what was in the basket. “Thank you, Murphy.” He bowed and went off down the hallway. I climbed the stairs and at the top of them I pulled back the cloth uncovering the contents. Everything looked in order except for a silver flask tucked into the corner of the basket behind a book. I removed it placing it in my pocket. I would smuggle food to Uncle Samuel because Dr Jefferson said he needed to eat but I would not smuggle brandy.

  I made my way to Samuel’s room and knocked, there was no response, but I entered anyway. He was awake, just lying there staring at the ceiling. He turned his head slightly to look at me with one eye, then he went back to gazing at the ceiling “Do you know, brat, that there isn’t a single crack in this ceiling, not one. My room at the Abbey is a masterpiece of cracks. When I inherit, I think I shall have all the ceilings re-plastered. What do you think…should I leave them as is or fix up that gothic mausoleum to be the envy of all England?” He turned his head on his pillow to look at me, he was sweating a bit and his colour was poor. He smiled but there was a glassy look to his eyes which shifted immediately to the basket and he licked his lips. “So, what have you brought me?”

  I plunked the basket down beside him on the bed and pulled up a chair. He rummaged through the contents more than once. I knew what he was looking for, but I didn’t let on that I had noticed. “Do you really care that much about the Abbey, Uncle? You always call it a mausoleum or a pile of rocks.”

  He ignored my questions to glare at me after rifling through the basket yet again “Okay, brat, where is it?”

  I tried to look surprised. “Where is what?”

  Now he looked angry as he held out a shaky hand, palm up. “Don’t play games with me, Lissa! Give me my flask!” I moved back in the chair. I had never seen my uncle’s anger turned on me. He reached out for my arm, but I withdrew even further. “Give it to me NOW!”

  I realised then that my uncle had a problem with strong drink. He scared me, but I tried to be conciliatory. “Dr Jefferson said it would be bad for you and I don’t want to see you become ill. You need nourishing food and rest.”

  “Blast it all to hell and DAMN Dr Matthew Jefferson!” He made a weak grab for my arm again, but I jumped out of my chair, knocking it over in the process to stand just out of his reach. Tears were starting to roll down his cheeks as he yelled yet again. “GIVE ME MY BLOODY FLASK!” He took the basket and flung it across the bed, hitting the wall behind me. I cringed as he screamed out in pain, grabbing his injured shoulder. Fresh blood was seeping through his bandage. Just then the door opened, and Dalton walked in. He quickly surveyed the room and the state of my uncle, “Oh my, what happened here, miss?” Before I could answer he reached back to pull the bell cord twice.

  I quickly explained to him what had transpired. All the while Uncle Samuel was yelling obscenities at me. He was thrashing about in bed and had become tangled up in the bed sheets. I was sure that even as weak as he was if he could extricate himself, he would be after me. It was hard for me to hold
back my tears.

  Samuel stopped yelling finally and moaned. “Get the damn chit out of here, Dalton. Wait! First get my flask, she’s hidden it somewhere. Search her!”

  Dalton hesitated. “I think you should leave, miss. I’ll take care of your uncle.”

  I heard someone running down the hall and my father came flying into the room followed by my mother. “What in the name of all that is holy is going on in here! Samuel, what in blazes are you screaming about man?!” He came to me, putting a comforting arm around my shoulders.

  Mother went to my uncle’s bedside. Samuel was trying to get out of bed again. Since she couldn’t possibly restrain him, she reached out and slapped him across the face. “Enough, Samuel! Enough, I say!” She had caught his attention and he stopped. Then she gently pushed him back into the pillows. “Look at yourself!” In a softer but firm voice, she said. “This has got to stop!” She looked over her shoulder at Dalton. “Dalton, will you please see Miss Clarissa to her room? Clarissa, stay there, I will come to you directly.” She turned back to my uncle, speaking to him in soothing tones like she did whenever I was ill.

  I looked up at my father who was staring in disbelief at Samuel. He looked down and nodded at me then at Dalton. Dalton came to my side and I was ushered out the door. As it closed behind me I could hear raised voices again, my father and mother both seemed to be having a go at my uncle as well as each other. I wanted to stay and listen, but Dalton’s presence prevented me, so he walked me to my room.

  Meg was standing in the doorway wringing her hands. Dalton nodded to her then headed back to my uncle’s room. I watched him go until Meg pulled me into my room, closing the door. “Oh, miss, such goings on. When Mr Hughes’ bell rang twice, it was like everyone was called to battle. We were all told to report to our duty stations. Beth, Louisa and I had no idea what that meant so we felt that we’d better just come upstairs. If it isn’t impertinent of me, can I ask if Mr Hughes is alright? He sounded very fierce when I walked by his door.”

  I had no words for her and just sat facing the door. I was heartbroken that my uncle had yelled at me and ashamed that I had taken it upon myself to correct his behaviour. I loved him, but I didn’t want the drink making him sick. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I stared at the door waiting for my mother.

  Meg sat with me trying to take my mind off my uncle, she chatted about the staff downstairs and the neighbours. She was very taken with Jacob even though he was at least ten years older. I tried to listen to her prattle on about how all the staff had colourful histories, that she had met Mr Crenshaw who was my father’s man of business and that the cook was his aunt. She told me how modern everything was and how the staff at the Abbey would be envious of her and Beth. Then it dawned on me that at the Abbey I knew, every member of the household, the estate staff, tenants, villagers and all their histories. There was so much I needed to learn before I could really feel at home here.

  It wasn’t long before Mother walked into my room. She wasted no time putting her hand out palm up and in a flat voice said, “Give it to me, Lissa. I know that you have your uncle’s flask.”

  I stood there wide-eyed with concern. She looked so despondent, so I pulled it out of my pocket handing it to her. She transferred it into her pocket then let out a huge sigh. “Lissa, I’m sorry you had to witness that but there is a good explanation for his behaviour which I think you deserve, however, Samuel must never know that I told you. Do you understand?” I nodded. “Good, now let’s sit down and I will tell you why your uncle is so angry.”

  Meg went towards the door, but my mother stopped her. “Meg, you might as well join us. Lissa will only tell you anyway and the rest of the staff already know. But first if Mr Hughes ever asks either of you to bring him whiskey, brandy or any strong drink, please tell Dalton, Mr Allan, Mr Turner or me. Do not under any circumstances get him what he asks for.”

  Meg gulped then nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mother sighed and pushed a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. “Lissa, I think your father already told you the story of Mademoiselle Michaud, but Meg needs to hear this as well to understand why he is like this.” Mother explained to Meg exactly what Father had told me. Then she paused for a bit searching for the right words. “What your father told you about Samuel being protective of Mademoiselle Michaud goes even deeper.”

  My mouth gaped open as I guessed, “Samuel is in love with her?”

  “Yes.”

  I could feel myself smiling from ear to ear. “That’s wonderful!”

  Mother ran her hand across her brow. “One would think so, however, this is where it becomes complicated. Samuel would marry her today, but she keeps refusing him. She believes that when she was brutally attacked in Brussels that she was violated and may never be able to conceive a child. She feels that all that and being French would be an impediment to their marrying. Many people still harbour ill feelings towards the French, whether they were victims of the war or not.”

  I remembered Aunt Mary’s lecture about the heir and a spare. “Does it really matter to Samuel if he has a son or not? It’s not like there’s a title to be inherited. It’s just the Abbey, the home farm and the moors.”

  Mother rubbed her eyes and then tried to smile. “That’s not all there is, Lissa. On our mother’s side Samuel is the only remaining male heir to Lord Gromley’s estates which are considerable. When his Lordship passes away, Samuel will become the Earl. If he married Emilie and they had no children, that would be the end of the family line, everything would revert to the crown on Samuel’s death. Father and Lord Gromley have hammered this home since Samuel was even younger than you and he feels strongly about his responsibility but nevertheless his love cannot be denied.” She pulled out her handkerchief dabbing at her eyes. “This time in London has been very difficult for him, especially seeing Colin and I together now. While we were separated he derived some consolation from knowing that he and your father were almost equally unhappy. I know that sounds silly but now that it’s changed, Samuel feels even more acutely alone.”

  My uncle had been the only man until now that I knew loved me, I loved him dearly and he deserved to be happy. “If they love each other, there must be something that can be done to help them, Mama.”

  Mother smiled. “I don’t know, dear, I can’t help but think that there is more to this then either Samuel or your father is aware of.”

  Meg and I both stared at her. Then Meg say up straight and spoke up. “You think she’s lying about not being able to have children!”

  “Possibly.”

  I was perplexed. “Why would she lie about that?”

  Meg pursed her lips and answered, “I think Miss Michaud is ashamed that she’s lost her virtue. The only way a penniless girl can expect to make a good match is if her virtue is intact. That’s why the likes of me and Beth don’t step out with the gents. We haven’t found anyone yet that values what we’ve saved for marriage. Most men these days just want a tumble and then it’s a kiss goodbye. I can’t imagine what it must be like for a lady with no family or fortune. She’s too high bred even for the likes of Mr Allan and you are right, ma’am, her being French and a Catholic would stick in the craw of a lot of folks high or low.”

  “Surely Father and Samuel would know if she’d been…after all, they rescued her! They must have had a doctor care for her.”

  Mother shook her head. “Men can be very dense about these things, Lissa. Emilie was never examined by a doctor in Brussels, it was war time and there were none to be had at the time. They merely took her word for it. I’m not even sure if she was violated. Badly beaten yes, but by all accounts, Samuel was able to scare off her attackers before anything worse happened.” She sighed heavily. I shook my head in disbelief as Mother continued, “You have to understand, Lissa, that Emilie would have been brought up in a very proper Catholic family, so she would never talk to Samuel or your father about what actually happened. But regardless she sees herself as damaged. The family and
our staff know her story, however, it could hurt them both a great deal if they tried to keep it a secret from society and then were found out later.”

  Life could be so unfair; my circumstances may not have been ideal but at least I grew up knowing that I was protected and not alone. “Mama, there has to be a way to help them. I can’t bear to see Uncle Samuel so unhappy! And I can’t imagine how awful this must be for Mademoiselle. We have to help them!”

  Mother patted my hand. “I’ll speak with Aunt Mary first then we’ll see what can be done. We must take this slowly, we won’t get another chance to make this right.” We both nodded. I felt deeply for Uncle Samuel.

  I noticed that my mother was fiddling with the flask in her pocket. “Mama, are you going to give Uncle Samuel back his flask?”

  She looked down at the hand in her pocket and withdrew it. “No, Lissa. He’s been drinking far too much and for some time…if he continues, it could kill him. He needs to stop but it’s going to be difficult for him. He will be very sick for a several days, so you must stay away from his room, Lissa. And no visiting without your father or me, this is going to take time.”

  Chapter 8

  The Clarkes

  The Clarkes came to call on us the following day. Mother, Aunt Mary and I were dressed to indicate wealth without being pretentious. My best manners were expected, meaning I had to act like most unmarried young ladies and speak only when spoken to.

  Murphy had shown the Clarkes to the large withdrawing room that we rarely used. It was beautiful and decidedly formal which was why our family tended to use the library or small drawing room most days. I couldn’t help but smile as I remembered Meg’s description of the room as having been dressed up to impress. The walls were a pale green and the carpets and were a floral pattern in varying shades of pale blue, green and cream and the upholstery was all in a pale gold which explained Aunt Mary’s choice for our gowns. We looked like we belonged in a cool glade, the room was the perfect backdrop…like a spring garden. Mother absolutely glowed, and Aunt Mary looked every inch the Dowager Countess. I had to admit that even I looked like the daughter of a rich and influential man. My peach gown was simple but elegant with capped sleeves and a modest décolletage. While the deep peach ribbon threaded through my hair enhanced the multiple auburn hews amongst my chestnut locks.