by Wendy Bayne
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder pulling her close. “There are only four years that separate us that hardly makes me an older man, my dear.”
She squeezed his hand. “You goose. I was referring to my younger self as if I had met you as you are now.”
He leaned towards her and whispered, “You would still have owned me the moment I saw you.” Mother laughed and kissed him on the cheek.
She sat back ensconced in my father’s arm. “I have longed for this day when we could sit as a family bantering and teasing each other. I must say that I finally feel free. Tomorrow, however, I must get down to the business of running the household.”
My father gave her a horrified look. “What on earth is wrong with the household! Things have always been run to my satisfaction in the past.”
Mother gave him a bemused grin. “My dear, that was fine when you were a bachelor. But may I ask you who keeps the accounts, who helps cook decide on the menus? When was the last time that the spare rooms were turned out or the rugs beaten? When was the last time the staff received new livery and uniforms or a raise in wages? What kind of allowance do you have set aside for them for emergencies? Do any of them have family in need that we could help, or do they have health problems we should be aware of.” She turned to him. “Colin, running an establishment of this size as well as your property in Somerset requires a firm but compassionate hand. You call them your people and your business associates and from the sounds of it you may put them in jeopardy at times. We have a responsibility to take care of them…that’s what builds loyalty.”
He looked at her in a dumbfounded. “I go over the accounts with Mr Allan quarterly, but I have no idea who knows about all the rest. I suppose Mr Allan does.”
She smiled leaning in to hug him with mischief in her eyes. “Exactly and while Mr Allan does a superb job there are many things that he should not be expected to deal with alone. The same goes for cook. You have no housekeeper for the girls on your staff to go to so who do they turn to when they need help or advice, that burden falls on cook. After all, you can hardly expect them to go to Mr Allan. Therefore, I will need to get to know the staff, their strengths and weakness and where we can help them. You yourself have said that none of them had been in service prior to working with you. I want to know that they fully understand their duties so that I might determine where we can help them the most. You can’t just order people about and expect them to know what or how to do things, they need training, darling.”
Father looked sceptical then amused. “I take it that things are going to change?”
Mother shook her head. “No, at least not much, we’ll work this out together. But I’ll need to know what the dual duties are for each of the staff as well. We cannot be clashing in our needs. Mine to run the house and yours to send Lettie off to the East End for information or Murphy off to Ireland.”
He smiled a bit and mumbled, “I would never send Murphy off to Ireland.” Mother rolled her eyes as he smirked. “You, my darling, are a treasure.” But he sounded concerned as he added, “So starting tomorrow we will endeavour to put our house in order? Perhaps I should warn Mr Allan to pass the word along.” Mother giggled and shook her head.
It was not exactly a meeting of minds and I’m sure that Father was probably terrified that his carefully constructed household was about to come unravelled. Mother sensed his concern and took his hand. “Colin, I promise that I won’t change anything without your approval.” He let go of the breath he’d been holding and relaxed.
There was a knock at the door and Mr Allan came in announcing Dr Jefferson. This time the good doctor agreed join us for dinner. Mr Allan poured him a whisky as he settled back while Aunt Mary asked him how Samuel was faring, he crossed his long legs, brushed off some imaginary lint from his breeches, “Tolerable, Lady Alford.” He glanced at me and then my father.
“It’s alright, Matthew, my daughter was the one that brought the seriousness of Samuel’s problem to my attention. If it hadn’t been for his reaction to her hiding his flask, I might not have believed my wife that Samuel is fighting a demon.” He looked at me with saddened eyes.
Dr Jefferson sucked in his breath. “Very well, Colin, but this is not a new problem for Samuel. His symptoms are much too severe to have been from short-term abuse. Though I’m not surprised that you were unaware of it. He told me that he’s hid his abuse from you by splitting his time between his travels abroad with brief periods in London, Cornwall and Northumberland. His man tells me though that he’s been aware of it for several years now but was sworn to secrecy. I can treat his physical symptoms, but his abusive drinking seems to be a result of extreme melancholia. We have to get to the root of that problem if we ever expect to help him achieve any kind of recovery.”
Father rolled his whisky around in his glass staring down at it. “And if we can’t help him?”
Dr Jefferson didn’t hesitate “Eventually, he will die.”
“How can that be possible?! He eats, he gets exercise!” Father was distraught and angry about his friend.
Dr Jefferson took a deep breath. “I think your wife will tell you that she’s been aware for some time that Samuel only eats well in front of Clarissa and that every bite is an effort. Sometimes he even vomits afterwards. He told me that Clarissa notices too much and he wouldn’t worry her for anything.”
I started to think back to the times that he had stayed at the Abbey. Those visits had never been for long. He had often gone out returning late, missing meals saying that he had eaten in the village. In the morning, I’d often meet him on the stairs as I was coming down he’d tell me that he had already breakfasted and gone for ride so that he was just retiring to his room to take care of his correspondence. As I started to think back the signs were there, including that he often looked ill on those visits and was vexed when questioned about his day.
I was deep in thought when my mother said, “Clarissa, are you alright?”
“What? Oh, I’m sorry I was just thinking about all the times that Uncle Samuel was at the Abbey and what he was like. I did notice things, yet I was too stupid to put it all together.”
Dr Jefferson leaned forward, “Clarissa, you weren’t stupid, your uncle was just very clever. For example, his morning coffee was apparently more spirits than coffee. Did you ever notice that he never took cream or sugar?” Both mother and I nodded wide-eyed. “Why should that alarm you when many people drink it black? Did he often leave the house on the pretence of business?” Again, we nodded. “His business was at a public house called The Sickle.” He turned to my father, “Colin, when you dined together, did he drink to excess then eat very little?”
Father looked ashamed. “Yes, and often he would arrive late saying he’d eaten somewhere else. But he appeared to be sober, Matthew.” Then he his shoulders dropped. “But he could drink me under the table on any given night.”
Dr Jefferson nodded. “It’s one of the cardinal signs of someone who is desperate to hide their problem, they can mimic being unaffected. Yet they suffer terrible side effects when they go without spirits such as shaking hands, headaches, being unable to sleep or eat and poor concentration. In your line of work, Colin, that’s a weakness that can be exploited.” Father looked ill and I knew intuitively that he wanted to say something to defend Samuel, but he couldn’t think of anything.
The doctor continued, “As I said I can treat his symptoms if he’s willing to give up the drink completely but there can be no half measures. It must be all, or he will not live long. And we need to find the reason for his melancholia if we’re to have a chance of success. He needs to resolve whatever that issue is. Does anyone have any idea what it might be?”
He looked around at us, but no one seemed to be prepared to say anything, so I did. “Mademoiselle Michaud.” My father sucked in his breath, Aunt Mary coughed, and Mother gasped.
Dr Jefferson chuckled. “A woman is his problem? You expect me to believe that Samuel Hughes has an issue with a w
oman? Now I’ve heard everything.” He looked at my father who was at a loss for words. “Colin, he’s one of the most inveterate womanizers I have ever met!”
I shook my head. “Oh, no, doctor, he is desperately in love with her and she with him! But she’s rejected him because she believes she can’t have children. She was brutally attacked in Brussels yet never saw a doctor afterwards, so it might not be true.” Then I clamped my hand over my mouth.
I looked at my mother who was ghastly pale and pinching her nose. Father sighed, saying, “That’s true, Matthew, there weren’t any doctors in Brussels at that point in the war. We just assumed that she would know if she had been misused or not. But the ladies in my family don’t believe it since Samuel chased off her attackers. She has repeatedly rejected him thinking that she has lost her virtue and would be an embarrassment to him and shunned by society.”
Father looked at me with an expression of concern. “Clarissa, how do you know anything about this?”
I swallowed looking at my feet then at my mother. She looked my father square in the face. “I told her, you men honestly have no sense about these things! She’s not a child, Colin, besides she would have eventually heard about it and you know it.”
Father was bewildered. “But why would Miss Michaud lie to us?”
She sighed, “Oh, really, Colin, don’t be obtuse. No woman is going to discuss anything like that with a man unless he’s a doctor.” Mother looked right at Dr Jefferson then smiled. “Matthew, is there an examination that you could conduct that would tell us if mademoiselle has been violated or if she can have children?”
He cleared his throat. “As to whether she has been violated, yes an examination would verify that. But as to having children, not precisely. Some women’s physicality does present problems in conceiving though an examination would help me to make an educated determination if that should be a concern.”
Mother smiled like a Cheshire cat. “Colin, I will need to interview Emilie before I allow her to tutor Clarissa, so I’ll invite her to luncheon on Thursday while you’re gone to your club. Matthew, do you think you could possibly time your visit to Samuel so that you could join us?”
Father looked aghast. “Irene! You can’t possibly involve Matthew in whatever you’re scheming.”
Aunt Mary slapped her chair for attention. “Good heavens, Colin, I didn’t take you for such a prude. This is Samuel we’re talking about and I for one support any plan that Irene can come up with as long as I’m included. Well, doctor, can we count on your assistance?”
Dr Jefferson bowed his head in her direction. “With pleasure, Lady Alford, but only if the lady in question is agreeable.”
Chapter 9
Mademoiselle and Samuel
Mother and Father spent the next day interviewing the staff and going over the household accounts. For several days after we made our rounds of our neighbours and my Aunt Mary’s friends leaving our cards, attending at homes, visiting dressmakers and plotting how to bring a couple together.
Dr Jefferson came and went every day, he was pleased with how my uncle’s wound was healing, however, he was concerned that his overall mood had not improved. During this time Dalton was treated for a head wound by the good doctor after my uncle threw a candle stick at him in a fit of temper, so all breakables and potential weapons were removed from his room or at least placed out of his reach.
I still wasn’t allowed to visit him, but I wasn’t sure that I wanted to under the circumstances. I could hear him at times during the day and night screaming gibberish followed by sobbing. Strangely enough it was his silent periods that worried me the most.
The weather had eventually turned cold and wet, so I spent a great deal of my time either riding about in the carriage with my mother and aunt or exploring the house. Father was busy with his solicitors or in meetings with Sir Thomas and I sorely missed the freedom of riding, but my father would not budge on his ban of anyone riding in the park. So, I went to the mews every day to visit with Jewel and watch the grooms brush her down after she had returned from her daily exercise.
During this time, I thoroughly inspected the library and found that at least half of the shelves were full of books in other languages. My father found me there one day and asked me to join him in his study. The study had become one of my favourite places, it was there that I felt an overwhelming feeling of love and safety. Something I had never identified with any room in my life. It was so unlike the General’s study which had terrified me I had always associated it with discipline. But in this room, I discovered who my father really was; a warm, intelligent and generous man. He had an odd collection of nautical instruments as well as artefacts from his travels on display about the room. Books were strewn about the tables and on his desk both open and closed. The room was full of comfortable chairs and a large settee all of which smelled of paper, leather and my father’s fresh woodsy scent. He was watching me intently as I gazed around the room then offered me a chair that I snuggled down into with the book I had brought with me. He begged my indulgence while he finished a letter he’d been writing so I read in silence for a time, the only audible noise was the scratch of his pen. I ignored my book and lost myself in visions of what life must have been like for him on the peninsula or when he was with my mother in Cornwall, it was all so sad and romantic.
When he finally put his pen down, the spell was broken. “Clarissa, I wanted to talk to you about a few things. You’ve grown up without me in your daily life and even though I know a great deal about you from your mother and uncle, it’s not the same as being there with you and talking to you. I don’t really know the person you are or who you want to be.” I didn’t move or blink, I sat there in awe of this man. We were both silent for a brief time, I suppose he was waiting for me to say something, but I was at a loss for words. So, he added, “I know it will take time for us to get to know each other but to start with what do you want out of life. How do you envision your future? I’d like to hear what your ambitions and interests are.”
I stared wide-eyed at my father while I contemplated my answer. I wondered what kind of man asks a sixteen-year-old girl what her ambitions and interests are. For what seemed like the first time I took a good look at him and I saw much of myself in him. I also recognized that he was a handsome man, still young and vital just as my mother was still young and beautiful. I wondered what the future held for me in this household. I hadn’t seriously considered that I might have brothers and sisters. Yet I wondered what it might be like if I did and what kind of a sister I would be. I warmed to the idea it would be nice to have someone to pass all my sisterly knowledge onto. So, I said quite blatantly, “I would like to be a sister, Papa. I know that you need an heir and a spare so two brothers at least would be nice.” I smiled sweetly at him.
He looked shocked at first then he smiled as he passed his hand over his mouth to hide a chuckle. Finally, he burst out laughing. “I do love the way your mind works, Lissa, my sweet. But it’s not just up to me, you know. I shall have to consult with your mother. Is there anything else?”
I grinned at him. “Yes, I’d like to work for you. I’m good at observing people and I’m an excellent eavesdropper. Even Uncle Samuel has said that I’m one of the best he’s ever seen.”
Pursing his lips and leaning forward he whispered, “I’m sure your mother would gut me if I were to involve you in my work. Shall we try for something more appropriate for now?”
My face fell. “But you’re not saying never. It’s just not right now, correct?”
He looked at me with respect. “That’s correct, Lissa, it’s a no for now.” He hadn’t excluded me from ever working for him, so that made me happy. Besides he might find that my skills as a sixteen-year-old could help him at some point then he’d call on me.
He was watching me carefully like he could see my thought processes. “So is there anything else that you’d like to do?”
I tried to think about the skills that would make me valuable
to him in the future. “Yes, Papa, I would like to learn your silent code that you used with Murphy, and different languages like you, Uncle Samuel and Mother know. I’d also like to learn mathematics, so I can help my brothers manage their fortunes when I’m a spinster. Oh, and you did promise to teach me to use a pistol. I also think that by improving my sketching I could eventually do detailed portraits and drawings that might be valuable in your investigations.”
Smiling at me, he leaned back in his chair to consider what I had asked. “Hmmm… That’s quite a list on top of what a lady of good family needs to know.” When I gave no response, he continued, “Are you prepared to study hard and pay attention to your tutors?” I nodded with great enthusiasm. “It will require considerable time and effort on your part. However, you must also still learn the skills of a gentlewoman.”
My face fell a bit at this pronouncement, yet it would be counterproductive to my goal of working for my father if I was not welcomed into society. I had to be satisfied that he was even considering my requests. I jumped up, threw my arms around him giving him a huge kiss on the cheek.
When he hugged me back, I saw a single tear slide down his cheek. I reached up to wipe it away with my handkerchief then I leaned back so I could look at him. “Are you alright, Papa?”
“Yes, my angel. I’m better than I have been in a very long time. Having you and your mother with me has made me the happiest man in the world.” He kissed me on the forehead then leaned back to look at me. He cleared his throat and asked, “I’d really like to know what this nonsense is about you being a spinster?”
I blushed and looked at me feet. “Oh, that. Well, mm.”
Mother must have been listening to us since she came through the door and answered for me. “She got that idea when Aunt Mary told her what society dictates as a woman’s place in this world.”
Father looked perplexed. “Yes, but I don’t understand why Clarissa would want to be a spinster?”