by Wendy Bayne
She pulled out a handkerchief dabbing at her eyes then her nose, finally she balled it up in her fist before she continued. “Then one day just after the shop had closed Mr Parsons laid his hands on me in a very personal way. He was deep in his cups and could hardly stand but he was strong. Dalton came out front when he heard me scream and he pushed Mr Parsons away from me. He staggered and fell, hitting his head on a table corner that blackened his eye. He screamed abuses and threatened to set the bailiff on us just before he passed out, so we fled that night.”
She hiccoughed while tears were streaming down her cheeks as she relived those bleak moments. “Our money only lasted two weeks even with us just taking only one meal a day, we had to sell our few possessions just to live. Eventually we ended up sleeping in doorways and begging for food.” She wiped her cheeks on the back of her hand and Emilie handed her another handkerchief. “Then Dalton met up with a sergeant in the pub where he was sweeping the floors and he offered Dalton the King’s shilling to join up and fight Napoleon’s hordes. We were starving, and the sergeant assured him that I would be welcomed as well since that they always needed laundresses for the officers. I should have known what he meant but I soon learned once we were on the continent.”
She took a deep breath and composed herself before continuing, “We hadn’t been there long before, I had to start fending off the wandering hands of the officers while Dalton was about his duties. When he was there, they’d leave me alone. Then after about two months I had to fight an officer off, I marked him with my nails and he said he’d see me hang for attacking him, so I ran and found Dalton on picket duty. He would have killed the officer, but I convinced him it was better to just leave.” She wiped a tear off her cheek. “He wasn’t cut out for soldiering anyway and we weren’t any better off in the army than we’d been in London. That’s when we took to picking people’s pockets and petty theft.” Aunt Mary raised both eyebrows.
Emilie’s mouth was hanging open. “How did you manage to do that?”
“It’s not difficult and hunger is a fast teacher to a willing pupil. We stole only from those that had the means. I mean only those that wouldn’t miss it, ma’am! We lived on the fringe of the army for a time stealing food and living off the land. But then the army moved on to do battle and Dalton refused to take me there. He said that no matter how far we had fallen, we wouldn’t stoop to take pickings off the dead. We made our way to Brussels where Mr Turner ah came to know us.”
I was almost in tears; Emilie and my mother were both sniffling and James looked at all of us in bewilderment with his lower lip trembled as if he wasn’t sure if he should join in as well.
Only Aunt Mary was dry-eyed. “Well, my dear, I don’t think there shall be a problem. Murphy is extremely lucky to have won your affections. I just hope that he appreciates the fact that he is getting better than he deserves.” Lettie looked askance, and Mother huffed as if she was perturbed. Aunt Mary was bewildered by her reaction. “Good heavens, now what? He’s a penniless Catholic and a radical, isn’t he?!”
Lettie giggled. “Oh no, ma’am, he’s not really.”
It was Aunt Mary’s turn to look perturbed “Rubbish, young lady! I don’t know what he’s been telling you, but he most certainly is.”
Lettie tried to look contrite. “I’m sorry to seem contrary, ma’am, but he isn’t. That’s just a story he’s told the other staff, so they won’t think less of him for being of better birth than the rest of us.”
Aunt Mary pursed her lips glaring at Lettie over her spectacles with narrowed eyes. “You’d better explain yourself, child.”
Lettie smiled and started in, “His mother was an Irish gentlewoman whose father was a country squire. His father was a gentleman who was secretary for Lord Grant. He comes from better people than I do, Mrs Spencer. Plus, he has no religion, ma’am, his parents were followers of William Blake, they didn’t support any church, but they believed in God and taught him the Bible. It wouldn’t bother him a wit where we married. But you’re right, that he is a radical in so much as he believes Ireland should be free, but he doesn’t support violence to achieve that end. He lost a sister in the riots and it affected him deeply.”
Aunt Mary sat with her mouth open. Then she shook herself. “Well, he can hardly stay as a footman if he is to marry our nanny and future governess.” She turned to my mother. “Well, Irene, what do you think?” Mother was chewing on her lower lip and bouncing a once again happy James on her knee.
Emilie also appeared to be deep in thought, so I spoke up. “When we were at the Embassy today we met Lord Granville’s secretary, I wonder if—”
Aunt Mary interrupted me. “Splendid idea, Lissa! Yes, I believe that would work. Mr Murphy could be Colin’s secretary.” She looked sharply at Lettie. “But is his name really Murphy?” Lettie smiled and nodded yes. Aunt Mary closed her eyes and clasped her hands as if to pray. “Oh well, I’m sure Collin will make the best of it.” Then she looked over at Mother. “So, Irene, my dear, we’ll leave it in your capable hands that by the time we are back in London Mr Murphy will have been transformed from footman to secretary.”
Mother still looked uncomfortable. “Aunt Mary, I know that you mean well but think about the trouble this may cause for Murphy and Lettie with the other staff.”
Lettie frowned. “Ma’am, if you let Murphy and I tell Mr Allan our story and ask his advice about what to do, it might sit better with the others hearing it from him instead of just whooshing Aedan into a new position. You know that once we tell Mr Allan he’ll feel obligated to tell Mr Turner and Mr Turner will turn to you for your opinion. Then you can present him with your plan.” She looked to my mother with a hopeful glance but it all sounded rather complicated to me.
Mother looked at Lettie with a great deal of sympathy. “Did the staff give you a great deal of grief when you became the nanny?”
“A little, ma’am,” she giggled. “But I made a grand fuss about it being a burden to have to care for the little master just because we needed to keep secret what we do for Mr Turner. The others quickly became sympathetic. Besides Master James has them all wrapped around his little finger now and they all like Murphy. I think Jacob knows something about Murphy’s origins, he does get a bit morose when in his cups, especially around the time of his sister’s death. So, he may have said some things but Jacob’s a good friend.”
Aunt Mary laughed. “I told Colin there was more to his staff than he knew. Tell me, Lettie, are there any other hidden gentry among the staff that you know of.”
She chewed on her lip looking down at her feet. “Not that I’m aware of, ma’am. I think Murphy and I are the only ones that I’m truly sure about.”
Emilie burst out laughing, all eyes shifted to her and Aunt Mary raised one eyebrow. “You find this humorous, Emilie.”
She shook her head. “No, Mrs Spencer, but it’s just that I remember hearing Billy Phillips reciting the alphabet in Latin not so long ago. I think there are more secrets to be found out, ma’am.”
My Aunt smiled. “Emilie, please call me Aunt Mary, after all you are a member of this family.” She turned to look at my mother. “Well, Irene, you interviewed all of the staff, is there anything else we should know about Billy?”
Mother took a deep breath. “Colin has given him access to the library, despite being an orphan Billy came to us knowing how to read and write and has an inquisitive mind. His mother taught him while she was alive, but he has no idea who his father is. Given his mother’s profession he could be related to just about anyone, even someone we know.”
Aunt Mary took off her spectacles. “You mean to tell me that Billy’s mother was a prostitute?”
Mother swallowed. “She was more of a courtesan actually than a street person.”
Aunt Mary cleared her throat and tried to sound nonchalant, “I take it that she catered to only the best gentlemen.” Mother merely nodded. My Aunt sighed then stated emphatically, “So, it is unlikely that anyone will come forward to
claim the boy? How did she die?”
Mother looked serene but sad. “She died saving Billy, he was pushed into the street in front of a wagon by a passerby. She got to him just in time to throw him aside, but she was trampled to death. The house where they had lived would only keep him if he was willing to umm…” she looked at me and my eyes went wide. I knew that I must have turned beet red. “Suffice it to say that he refused so they literally tossed him out into the street almost under the wheels of Colin’s carriage. The rest is as they say history and Colin took him into his service.”
Aunt Mary barely suppressed a sad smile, and then Emilie cleared her throat. “Shouldn’t we try to find out who his father is? In France, the illegitimate children of the upper classes are cared for and schooled; why even…” and she glanced at me and I frowned at her knowing that she was thinking of Miles. She abruptly shut her mouth just as James let out a loud burp and started laughing, then we all laughed relieving the tension in the room.
A shadow darkened the doorway that I was seated next to and I looked up to find Miles and Dr Jefferson standing there, both smiling and looking inquiringly into the room. Miles didn’t seem to notice me, but Dr Jefferson did and nodded. I reached out and took Miles’ hand he smiled and squeezed my hand. Then he let go, stepping into the room followed by Dr Jefferson. “I hope we haven’t interrupted, ladies, but I’ve been told that cook will not hold luncheon one minute longer, so the good doctor and I came to rescue you from her wrath.”
He turned looking straight at me and winked. My heart skipped a beat as he reached out his other hand towards me. I rose to take his arm and whispered, “Miles, can you see me?”
He tapped my arm. “Not really but it’s better. I can see outlines now and at least distinguish male from female and a chair from a table. It was your laugh that told me where you were seated.” I noticed that everyone was listening to us and they seemed to be holding their breath.
Aunt Mary then ventured an idea. “What about spectacles?”
The doctor interjected, “Unfortunately, there is no lens maker that I know of that could make spectacles that would help him. But I still have hope that his vision will return completely, if slowly.”
I smiled up at Miles. “So you won’t be rid of me as your assistant any time soon.” I noticed that Mother and Aunt Mary shared a look that gave me the distinct impression that they disapproved of my friendship with Miles.
Not surprisingly it was Miles who seemed to sense my tension and broached the subject. He turned to face my mother and Aunt. He bowed towards them. “Mrs Spencer, Mrs Turner, I can assure you that my intentions towards Lissa are entirely honourable. Even though I may never be legitimized as my father’s son in England, I still intend at some time to speak to Mr Turner about his daughter. Until that day comes, we’re just friends.”
Aunt Mary became flustered and was at a loss for words when my mother spoke up. “Mr Johnson, I can assure you that my daughter has already made up her mind about you and rest assured neither her father nor I would dream of standing in your way. But I do appreciate your candour. Now then shall we eat?” She smiled beautifully at Miles as she handed James off to Lettie. Then she smoothed out her skirts and walked ahead of us, Dr Jefferson offered an arm to Emilie and Aunt Mary and I followed with Miles.
My mind was spinning, I felt hot and cold at the same time as Miles held my arm tightly against him and we navigated down the hallway. But I had forgotten my role as his other pair of eyes as a result he drove his knee into a cabinet, he swore under his breath but never let go of my arm. “I’m so sorry, Miles.”
“Perhaps I should speak to your uncle about improving the lighting up here once the estate is returned to his wife.” He gave me a lopsided grin. “Just for safety’s sake in the future.” Then he chuckled as I moved us into the middle of the corridor where he walked with greater confidence.
At luncheon, we reviewed all that we had discovered and talked about what action we could take. I broached the possibility that the young blond man that was seen with the dark man was Ramsey Clarke, but my father dismissed the idea out hand. However, I wasn’t so sure Lady Granville’s description seemed to scream Ramsey to me. I tried to explain that it felt like the Clarkes were always just on the periphery of everything that had happened to us. What their connection could possibly be was a mystery to me though. My father and Uncle Samuel were dead set against any such wild speculation and insisted the answer was among the guests at the Embassy that night. After saying my piece, I sat quietly and listened to the rest of them. Miles contributed very little to the discussion, he didn’t even voice an opinion when I mentioned the Clarkes. But he hadn’t dismissed me either as my father and uncle had.
Mother was watching me closely and Aunt Mary was whispering to Uncle Arthur. Emilie just looked around the table while Dr Jefferson concentrated on eating. I laughed inwardly watching him, he always ate like it was his last meal, yet he never gained any weight. Looking at my own plate it was obvious that the cook had gone out of her way to prepare English dishes. I knew she hoped that we’d take her back to England, she had family there and was tired of the life in France.
I finally turned my attention to my mother since she was still staring at me, but she noticed my attentive gaze, blinked and turned to my father. “Colin, I don’t think you should dismiss Clarissa’s idea regarding the Clarkes.”
Father had continued talking over her but must have heard her since he stopped talking to smile at her indulgently, “Yes, my love… Do you honestly think there’s merit in her speculation?”
Mother gave him a half smile. “Lissa has always had extraordinary powers of observation and I’ve been trying to think back over last night about what and who I saw and realised that I rarely pay attention at these events as to what is going on around me. Have you even asked Mr Johnson what he may have experienced? Dr Jefferson has made it quite clear that his other senses are sharper with the loss of his sight. He may have picked up on things that we didn’t.” I could tell that Father was about to reject this idea, but she continued before he could say anything, “I just think we all need to search our memories and examine them for things that seemed out of order or that we may have dismissed at the time. Fair is fair, Colin; Lissa’s insights could have merit.”
Father turned to me and raised his eyebrows. “Alright then, Lissa, what makes you think the Clarkes are involved?”
I was quaking inside biting my lower lip as Father waited with everyone looking at me, so I ventured, “Did the Clarkes move into their London house before or after you?”
He looked puzzled. “Well, I’ve owned the property for some time, but the Clarkes only moved in before you and your mother joined me.”
“But how long had they been there?”
Dr Jefferson cleared his throat. “It was two months.” Everyone looked at him confused. He cleared his throat. “Mrs Summers is a patient of mine, she lives in the house on the other side of the Clarkes.” He closed his eyes tightly like he was trying to remember something. “Very observant woman, Mrs Summers. She said it was strange that they barely had any trunks or furniture when they arrived and what they did have was rather shabby. She rarely saw Mr Clarke, but the ladies were always out and about in the neighbourhood. At first, they were somewhat of a curiosity being new and exotic having recently come from the Indies. The lad was seen occasionally but he was not very sociable apparently. She personally didn’t care for them, they never returned dinner invitations and were often not at home when calls were returned.” He wrinkled his brow like he was trying to recollect his thoughts. “Oh, and the men that had brought their household goods stayed with them for a time. She found it odd to say the least, they were a very rough sort for servants and they were coming and going as they pleased until you moved in, Turner. It was then that Mrs Summers said the Clarkes got themselves a proper staff and some better furnishings but not enough for such a large house and she knew for a fact that the previous owner had left very little b
ehind.”