by Nicola Slade
‘Why, surely I know that voice?’ The woman peered up at Charlotte’s startled face and frowned for a moment. ‘Oh, I do beg your pardon, miss,’ she began. ‘For a moment I took you for a former mistress of mine, but she lives far, far….’ She stared searchingly at the tall young woman beside the open door of the brougham and her broad face broke into a smile of delight. ‘Well, I never did! I took you for Mrs Glover, but no, ‘tis not, I see that, but…. Surely, it can’t be you, Miss Char? All grown up and a real lady now? What in the world are you doing here in England, and looking so prosperous too? Is his reverence with you? And your dear ma, how does she go on?’
Charlotte stood frozen to the spot, staring at the servant. Her worst fears were realized. Here was someone from her childhood; someone who knew too much about her and who could ruin the house of cards that was the lovely, make-believe life she had built for herself.
Chapter 6
‘GOOD GOD!’ CHARLOTTE pulled herself together, resolutely banishing the feeling of dread, as she summoned up a smile. ‘Bessie? Bessie Railton?’ She stretched out her hand. ‘Surely it cannot be? What in the world are you doing in England? And in Winchester of all places?’
‘Why, bless you, Miss Char, I mean, ma’am. I thought I’d like to see the old country once more before I die so when my last mistress died, leaving me a tidy little legacy, I hopped on a ship and here I am.’
Charlotte had herself well in hand now and her eyes narrowed. ‘So what are you doing working in Winchester as a maid, Bessie, if you had a legacy? And how in the world did you recognise me? I cannot have been any more than twelve or thirteen, the last time I saw you.’
The older woman gave a gap-toothed smile and looked round hastily. ‘Ah well, it was this way, Miss Char. I met up with a man who liked a bit of a flutter and what with one thing and another, by the time the ship landed in Southampton I found meself a bit embarrassed for cash. Luckily one of the passengers needed a maid for a while, so that tided me over and somehow or other I’ve ended up here. But tell me about your ma, dear? You don’t look like her, of course, but my goodness me your voice is hers to the life, which is how I knew you the minute you spoke. How does she go on?’
‘Ma – my mother died last year,’ Charlotte said briefly and stiffened at the outburst of comment and commiseration. ‘Mr Glover was offered an incumbency in India so I went with him, but sadly he died of a fever almost at once.’ She bit her lip but it was better to get the next part over with. ‘I married a major in the British army but he died as well so I am now living with his family in Finchbourne, a few miles down the road.’
‘Well, what a how d’ye do to be sure,’ exclaimed Bessie. ‘And your poor ma, God bless her. She was a dear soul and his reverence too, and him so lively always.’ She heaved a gusty sigh as she pressed Charlotte’s hand with touching sympathy and wiped her eyes. ‘Ah me, it’s as well his reverence never came to hear of the trouble that befell his congregation not long after you left the town.’
Charlotte gave a shiver of apprehension, as Bessie continued. ‘It was a gang of those rough diggers that were passing through,’ she said, with disapproval. ‘I heard about it from the grocer’s wife, who used to write to me now and then. It seems those ruffians turned to and stole the funds that had been collected to build a new church, the rogues. Some of the townsfolk were all for chasing after his reverence and begging him to come back and help raise some more money, him having such a genius for it, as you might say. But there, they thought better of it, what with his poor mother being on her death bed, poor soul.’
Overriding relief was shot through with a pang of shame. That had been the first time Molly and Charlotte had encountered Will’s methods and they had been shocked to the core to discover that the dying mother did not exist. Will Glover, Charlotte recalled, had been a man of great charm, eloquence and kindness, and she adored him along with everyone who met him, but there was no denying he had barely a moral bone in his body. Some of the games he played with other people’s property gave the family some dreadful moments, she reflected, staring with unseeing eyes at the smartly-painted front door of the lodging-house. If only he hadn’t had that queer kink in him, he could have risen to any height. Still, he was dearly loved in his lifetime, she gave a slight shake of her head and smiled inwardly, and he was sincerely mourned by her, in spite of his failings. There’s many a great man could wish for no better epitaph, she supposed.
She pulled herself together and glanced at the carriage, and then at the sky, which had a lowering, yellowish look that boded ill, so she fished in her purse.
‘Here, Bessie, I mustn’t keep Miss Armstrong waiting, but you must come and see me as soon as you have a half-day off. We’ll talk about the old days then.’
Bessie Railton eyed Charlotte’s guinea with considerable respect. ‘Right you are, Miss Char, ma’am, I mean. But….’ she leaned closer to Charlotte and whispered. ‘I’ll be glad to talk to you, there’s something funny about the other young lady’s illness, but I daren’t say anything or I’ll lose my place and it’s a good one. The mistress is open-handed and good to work for.’ Her cheerful expression vanished as her brows met in a puzzled frown. ‘I’d value your thoughts, Miss. I mean, ma’am. You always did have a good head on your shoulders, even as a child.’
‘What do you…?’ Charlotte turned to look over her shoulder at the waiting carriage and shook her head. ‘No, I really must take Miss Armstrong home to my sister-in-law now, but listen, Bessie.’ She took the maid’s hand and gave it a squeeze, ‘I live at Rowan Lodge, in Finchbourne, it’s a village a little way outside Winchester, anyone will tell you how to get there. Oh?’ at an exclamation from the older woman. ‘You know the village? And I’m Mrs Richmond now. Come and see me as soon as you are able and we’ll talk about this. And about old times too.’
The journey home was conducted in near silence with both women absorbed in their own reflections. To be sure, Charlotte did ask her companion if she was comfortable but on receiving a nod of assent, settled down to consider the implications of Bessie Railton’s sudden re-emergence into her life.
All the old anxieties came flooding back and it was a relief to look out of the carriage window and realize that they were approaching the village of Finchbourne. Not long now, Charlotte sighed, politely concealing her relief. I’ll just see Miss Armstrong safely ensconced at the manor and pass on Dr Chant’s message to Barnard and Lily, and then I can withdraw discreetly and make my escape.
It was not to be that simple. To be sure, Lily received her bereaved guest with an air of overwhelming graciousness, assuring her that Barnard would be gratified to hear that the doctor would arrive later in the day, but Charlotte was instantly aware that some kind of crisis had ruffled her sister-in-law’s customary iron-clad complacency. She was not left long in ignorance.
‘Char,’ Lily spoke in an urgent whisper once Miss Armstrong had been conveyed upstairs to a well-appointed room in the Queen Anne wing, with instructions to make herself comfortable and to have a good long rest. ‘I know that you and Gran are to dine with us tomorrow and stay the night, but please – you simply must come and stay with us tonight as well, and for a few days over Christmas too. I shall go mad if you do not!’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Lily.’ Charlotte’s response was swift and bracing. ‘What in the world is the matter? I tell you quite frankly, my dear, that if you’ve been squabbling with Barnard again over the colour of the curtains for your bedroom, I shall persuade Gran that we won’t even come up to the manor for our Christmas dinner tomorrow, let alone stay the night as Barnard wished. We’ll eat bread and cheese instead.’
‘How can you be so absurd, Char?’ Lily was momentarily distracted from her plaint. ‘As if I would ever be so foolish as to consult Barnard about an important thing like curtains, particularly when he suggested such a dull brown brocade. Besides, I never argue with my dearest husband.’ She ignored Charlotte’s sceptical eyebrow and hurried on, ‘That’s beside the po
int. The thing is, that dreadful Melicent woman is driving me to distraction. First she must feel faint, then she must complain of the stuffy atmosphere in her room and to cap that, she must announce in a very loud voice that she is sure Mrs Chant died as a result of some careless mistake by our cook yesterday.’
‘Oh good Lord,’ Charlotte almost groaned. This was just the kind of stupid gossip that she dreaded. Such a tale, embroidered upon as it would inevitably be, would destroy the peace of the manor and the village and almost break poor Barnard, her dear, well-meaning if bovine brother-in-law. ‘I hope you scotched that silly idea very firmly, Lily?’
‘Of course I did, and so did Barnard. Even Captain Penbury, to give him his due, roared at her that she must guard against starting a rumour so uncomplimentary to her kind hosts. But Char,’ Lily was now clutching at the other girl’s arm. ‘Don’t you see? Melicent Penbury is the worst cat imaginable and now she sees we are seriously disturbed by her maunderings, she’ll give us no peace. And here we are, with Miss Armstrong already in the house and Dr Chant about to descend on us, and both of them grieving. How can we protect them from Melicent’s dreadful scandal-mongering?’
Charlotte was intrigued and shaken to see that Lily, whom she had never before seen in the grip of any emotion other than rage or smug self-satisfaction, was actually shedding genuine tears.
‘Char,’ pleaded Lily. ‘If only you and Gran would come tonight and stay in the house, I think I could support the next few days. I don’t know how it is, but you seem to have the knack of keeping Melicent in her place. And you know what dear Gran is like about what she calls Melicent’s silly megrims and fancies. Dearest Char, do say you will come to our rescue?’
Charlotte opened her mouth to refuse, while her mind squirrelled around in an attempt to dredge up an excuse, but before she could speak, Barnard Richmond bounded into the hall, with young Master Granville hot on his heels.
‘Lily, my dear, and Charlotte too? Excellent, I’m glad to see you, Char. We have had capital sport, have we not, young Oz?’ He rubbed his hands together and clapped the boy on the shoulder.
‘Oh, Mrs Richmond,’ Oz was beaming as he held out an extremely grubby hand to Charlotte. ‘It’s been absolutely splendid. Mr Richmond let me hold back one of the terriers and it only bit me the once. And at the command, I let it go and my word, you should have seen those rats run. I never saw anything like it in my life, it was first rate.’
‘Yes indeed,’ Barnard said, with a genial laugh. ‘I think we had better go and wash our hands, Oz, and then I’m sure Mrs Richmond will have something good for us to stay our stomachs. I could eat a horse, I do believe.’
‘Stay for a cup of tea, at least, Char, and a bite to eat,’ pleaded Lily. ‘You’ll see how badly That Woman behaves.’
Charlotte nodded and slipped up to her own old room to take off her bonnet and tidy her hair. She knew Lady Frampton would be tucking in already to her own hearty tea, with no anxiety about Charlotte’s whereabouts, and she could see no help for it but to stand by Lily.
‘I’m sorry, Gran,’ later, at Rowan Lodge, Charlotte knelt beside the old lady and took her hand. ‘I didn’t have the heart to abandon poor Barnard to the atmosphere at the manor. What with Lily coming the gracious chatelaine and Melicent sighing and gasping, holding a plaintive handkerchief to her eye now and then, and all the while sending out her nasty little darts, I could picture murder being done at Finch….’
She gave a sudden tiny gasp and halted in mid-sentence. Fortunately Lady Frampton took no notice and was swift to scold over what she described as Charlotte’s foolish nonsense, but Charlotte bit her lip, unable to dismiss an idea that now, insidious as a snake, refused to go away. Nonsense indeed, she shook her head and tried to pull herself together. Time enough to consider this foolishness when she had a moment to consider it when she was alone, which would probably not be until bedtime.
And that bedtime, she sighed, would not now be spent at Rowan Lodge as she had hoped. She had known that neither she nor the old lady could bear to see poor Barnard harried and chivvied out of his senses by a couple of warring women, so here they were, making the most of their last peaceful half hour at home before tackling the atmosphere up at the manor.
‘Very well, Lily,’ she had conceded. ‘I’ll persuade Gran that we should stay with you tonight as well as over Christmas Day as we planned. That should give you some respite from Melicent’s behaviour – though I’ve told you before, all you need to do is give her a firm set-down. I warn you though, Gran may have some cross words to say about it, you know she likes to have plenty of warning before she has to make any change.’
She suggested that Lily send down a pleading message to Rowan Lodge and, as they had known she would, Lady Frampton gave in to the inevitable, albeit with a good deal of complaint. Before going home to oversee the removal and confronting a testy old lady, Charlotte had eaten her way calmly through the very good tea put before her at the manor and then volunteered to accompany Oz Granville on one final visit to the stable yard, and afterwards to drive him home in the pony chaise, or walk with him before the weather closed in.
‘That sounds a capital notion, Charlotte, and I only wish I could make time to come along with the pair of you.’ Barnard bellowed approval of this scheme, glancing wistfully at his womenfolk while young Master Granville looked pleased and opted for the walk. ‘We’ve had a good, full day of it, have we not, young Oz? First we dropped in at all the farms and cottages, not staying more than a few minutes for we had a long list to see to, but I believe I can say the tenants were pleased with their Christmas parcels, and particularly gratified by a visit from their young neighbour here.’ He nodded complacently as he downed the last gulp of ale from his tankard, ignoring Lily’s pained glare at his refusal to drink tea. ‘Aye, and then it was back here for the ratting which was a splendid affair. We must ask your Mama, Oz, to allow you to come along next time we mean to have a clear out. I’m sure she would want you to have that pleasure.’
The boy looked doubtful as to his mother’s permission or pleasure, but was clearly sincere in his thanks to his host as he and Charlotte took their leave. Charlotte had tried to engage their bereaved guest in polite conversation, but with little success. It was hardly surprising, she sighed, as she nodded farewell to Miss Armstrong. The poor woman was clearly shocked and must be wondering what on earth was to become of her if, as Charlotte understood, she was between situations as a governess and without a settled home.
Sibella Armstrong had answered all Charlotte’s efforts with a monosyllable or shake of the head, keeping her eyes lowered and eating very sparingly. She had suffered an introduction to the other house guests, Captain and Mrs Penbury, and had shaken hands with Oz Granville rather diffidently, turning away immediately to find her place at table, though Charlotte thought she saw Sibella slide more than one sidelong glance at the boy, her expression unreadable.
Oh dear, thought Charlotte. She’s so very pale, I do hope she didn’t think talk of ratting was inappropriate when she is so recently bereaved, but it couldn’t be helped. She turned to the boy. ‘Did you not promise to show me all the ghastly corpses?’ she joked – and bit her tongue as the boy shivered. In view of the recent death of his mother’s maid, her words were ill-chosen. Had he been particularly fond of the woman, she wondered, remembering that he had seemed disturbed at the previous day’s party.
He rallied at once and ten minutes later she was granted her wish as Oz and the stable boy proudly conducted her into the barn to admire the 23 rats that had met their doom. Prior to that, Oz had insisted on showing her round the yard and some of the outer buildings as well.
‘Look, Mrs Richmond,’ he told her, pointing to a rough patch of ground behind the piggeries. ‘That’s where we started. Mr Richmond let me have his own best terrier, Willow, on a lead, and the men had hold of the others, then at the word, “Go,” we all let the dogs loose. It was a famous sight, I can tell you.’ His blue eyes sparkled at the
memory and he brushed aside her enquiries as to the scratches and bites on his own hands. ‘Oh yes,’ he admitted carelessly. ‘I did have gloves on, but they must have slipped off. It doesn’t matter. You never saw anything like it,’ he exulted. ‘Willow was the best of the dogs by a long chalk, and I saw him wriggling through a gap, looking just like a snake. It was beyond anything!’
When Charlotte had been treated to a blow-by-blow account of what seemed like the death of every individual rat, Oz determinedly marched her back to the barn to display the deceased rodents, where she gave considerable satisfaction by her wholehearted admiration.
‘You’re a great gun, Mrs Richmond,’ he exclaimed looking at her in surprise. ‘Most ladies don’t seem to appreciate ratting. I know my mother wouldn’t, which is why I was so pleased that you didn’t happen to mention it to her.’
‘I know,’ grinned Charlotte. ‘I’m an unnatural woman, but I’ve encountered deadly funnel-web spiders more than once, not to mention a swarm of locusts which is something I pray never to see again, so I have no qualms about getting rid of vermin.’ She nodded to the boy, ‘Remind me to tell you about the crocodile I once had to tackle; after that, rats hold no fear for me.’ She glanced at the stable clock and then at the sky, which was looking dark and overcast. ‘We must not stay here enjoying ourselves, Oz, it’s time we set out for Brambrook Abbey or your mama will be getting anxious.’
Before they could set out, however, Barnard came hurrying out of the house. ‘My word, Char,’ he exclaimed. ‘If I hadn’t forgotten all about that murderous ruffian. He might even yet be skulking about the place as Lily reminded me.’
Charlotte opened her mouth to protest but was overruled. ‘Here,’ Barnard called to the stable boy. ‘Fetch my grandmother’s dog and my terrier, Willow, and accompany Miss Char to Brambrook Abbey and bring her back safe. Don’t you let her out of your sight, mind.’