Mud and Gold

by Shayne Parkinson

  ‘That nonsense of his! Why on earth does he make you do that all the time?’

  ‘Because I’m a bad woman, Lizzie,’ Amy said, her slender self-control threatening to slip away as she spoke. ‘I’m bad and I can’t be trusted. I’m the sort of woman who’d give away her baby to someone she’d never seen before.’

  ‘Stop that,’ Lizzie said sharply. ‘I won’t listen to that sort of talk. Now, don’t you worry about him—I’ll ask him myself.’

  ‘You’d better not—you’ll get him in an awful mood if you’re rude to him. Charlie’s not like Frank, you know.’

  ‘I’m never rude to Frank! No, I’ll sort it out with His Lordship—don’t worry, I’ll be as meek and mild as anything.’

  ‘You?’ Amy said dubiously.

  ‘Yes,’ said Lizzie. ‘I saw him from the road as I came up, he’s not far away. You get your cloak and boots on, and by the time you’re ready I’ll be back.’ She hurried from the house, leaving a dazed Amy to obey her.

  *

  Though Lizzie was capable of playing a wide variety of roles when the need arose, meekness was one she was rather rusty on. But she did her best.

  ‘Charlie, is it all right if I take Amy down to my place for a little while?’ she asked. ‘She’s taken a bit poorly, I want to get her sorted out.’

  ‘What’s wrong with her?’ Charlie asked, his eyes narrowing.

  ‘Oh, just a woman’s problem.’

  Charlie looked blankly at her. ‘What does that mean?’

  His ignorance took Lizzie aback. ‘It’s… well, you know… things women get wrong with them. Things to do with their insides and all that.’

  Charlie grunted. ‘Some nonsense of hers.’ But Lizzie was pleased to see that he looked discomforted by the reference to women’s ‘insides’.

  ‘So you won’t mind if I take her home for a bit?’ she pressed. ‘Just an hour or so.’

  Charlie considered for a few moments, then said, ‘All right. See you get her back in time to get the meal on,’ he called after Lizzie’s retreating form.

  *

  ‘You’re sure he said I was allowed?’ Amy asked as she accepted Lizzie’s leg-up onto the horse.

  ‘He said you can stay as long as you like.’

  The outrageous suggestion shocked Amy into disbelief. ‘He did not say that, Lizzie!’

  ‘Well, he should have,’ Lizzie said briskly. ‘He said you could come with me, that’s all you need to worry about.’ She clambered onto the saddle and they set off at a lively walk.

  Amy leaned against Lizzie’s back, content to do as she was told. But when they passed the school a fresh wave of guilt assailed her.

  ‘I shouldn’t be wandering off like this,’ she fretted. ‘I should be there to get the boys their milk and cakes.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ said Lizzie. ‘They’re not babies, they’re capable of finding the milk jug. Why do you have to be there to wait on them?’

  ‘I want to look after them. I gave my baby away to a stranger—at least I can try and be a good mother to the boys.’ She loosened her hold on Lizzie’s waist, ready to slide from the horse. ‘Let me down, I’m going back.’

  ‘No, you’re not,’ said Lizzie. ‘Hold on tight.’ She gave the horse a sharp flick with her riding crop, along with a hard kick, and the startled beast broke into a canter. Amy gave a yelp of alarm, flung her arms around Lizzie and held on desperately as she was shaken and bounced on the horse’s bare rump all the way to Frank’s farm.

  She slid to the ground and leaned against the horse’s heaving flanks, rubbing her own tender rump. ‘That was a mean trick, Lizzie—cantering with me stuck behind you.’

  ‘I had to do it, you were being silly. Anyway, you’re here now. Let’s get you inside, then you can have a lie-down.’

  Amy pushed an unruly lock of hair away from her face, aware of how much had escaped from its pins. Her fingers touched the stickiness of dried tears, and she knew how red and swollen her face must be. ‘I must look a fright—what’ll Frank think when he sees me in this state?’

  ‘I’ll tell him you’re not well. Don’t worry about him, men never take notice of that sort of thing.’ Lizzie took hold of Amy’s arm and led her into the house.

  Frank was sitting at the table, attempting to add up a column of figures while he balanced Danny on one knee. Mickey sat opposite them, his face wreathed in smiles as he crammed jam tarts into his mouth.

  ‘What are you doing out of bed, Michael Kelly?’ Lizzie demanded. The little boy’s grin disappeared when he saw his mother’s expression.

  He turned to his father for support. ‘Papa said I could.’

  ‘He said he wasn’t sleepy,’ Frank said, looking guilty. ‘I put him in bed and told him he had to stay there, but he started bawling, and that woke Danny up, then they were both bawling. So I thought I’d better get them up. He’s been pretty good—aw, heck, Mickey, look at that stuff all over your face! Sorry, Lizzie, the cakes were keeping him quiet and I sort of forgot to watch him. Nice to see you, Amy,’ he added as an afterthought. Amy could see that he was avoiding looking closely at her tear-streaked face.

  ‘Right,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’m going to get that belt. If anyone who’s meant to be in bed is still in this kitchen by the time I get back…’ She let the statement hang in the air as she led Amy up the passage and into the front bedroom.

  ‘Let your hair down and loosen your stays,’ Lizzie instructed, closing the heavy drapes so that the room grew dim. ‘I’ll make sure the children don’t make any noise and disturb you. You just try and forget about everything except having a nice lie-down. See if you can go to sleep.’

  ‘I can’t stay long, Lizzie.’

  ‘You’ll stay as long as I tell you. Don’t worry, I’ll get you home in time to make His Lordship’s dinner.’ She gave Amy a peck on the cheek and left the room, carrying one of Frank’s belts.

  *

  Mickey was nowhere to be seen when Lizzie came back into the kitchen.

  ‘I’ve never seen that kid move so fast,’ said Frank. ‘He wouldn’t do it for me, that’s for sure. Put that belt down, eh Lizzie, you’ll make me nervous waving it around like that. I tried giving Danny some bread and milk like you said, but he wouldn’t eat it.’

  Lizzie laid the belt across the back of a chair and sat down. ‘Give him here.’ She held out her arms, and Frank passed Danny over. ‘Did you warm the milk?’

  ‘Oh. Was I meant to?’

  ‘Honestly, Frank! You can’t expect a little fellow like him to drink cold milk.’ She unbuttoned her bodice and guided Danny’s mouth on to one of her nipples. ‘Never mind, mine comes out warm.’

  ‘How’s Amy?’ Frank asked. ‘She looked like she’d been pretty upset.’

  ‘She was in an awful state, poor thing. She’s quieter now, she might drop off to sleep with a bit of luck. I wish I could do something for her, though.’

  ‘You’re doing your best.’

  ‘Oh, I can give her a bit of a rest, and I’ll send her home with pudding and some vegetables so she’ll only have to do the meat for their dinner—remind me to give her some of my baking, too, she didn’t get her own done today. That’s all very well, but I don’t know how she’s ever going to be easy in her mind again with this worry about what happened to her baby.’

  ‘No, it’s pretty hard, all right,’ Frank said. ‘I don’t suppose… oh, I don’t know.’

  ‘What?’ Lizzie prompted.

  ‘Well, do you think you could find out what happened to it—her, I should say, it was a girl, wasn’t it? I mean, couldn’t she write to the woman or something?’

  ‘She doesn’t know anything about her. She keeps saying she gave her baby to a woman she didn’t know a thing about, and now she thinks this woman’s done away with the baby. I’ve got to do something, Frank—Amy’s going to hate herself if I don’t. What can I do?’

  The sight of Lizzie in distress always roused Frank to his greatest efforts. ‘I reckon we could do it, Lizz
ie. We could figure out who this woman was and write to her.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Well, Amy must know something about her, at least her name and where she came from. You try and get as much as you can out of her, then we’ll see what we can sort out. We’ll think of something.’

  Lizzie’s sudden smile was reward enough. ‘You really think we’ll be able to find out what happened to the baby?’

  ‘We’ll have a darned good try, anyway.’ Frank hated to cloud Lizzie’s relief, but he had to prepare her for the worst. ‘You know, we might find out Amy’s right. Maybe the little girl died. What’ll you do if that happens?’

  It took Lizzie no more than a moment to consider. ‘I’ll lie to her,’ she said simply. ‘I’ll tell her I couldn’t find out anything about the woman. Bad enough that she should think she gave her baby away to a murderer—if she knew it I think it’d kill her.’

  The next book in the series, Settling the Account, is available at Smashwords:

  http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1905