The Winter Promise

by Rosie Goodwin

  ‘I knew it!’ Matthew was furious, but he forced his anger back and loosening his grip on her arm, he bent to her level. ‘I am so sorry, Suzanne. Or should I call you Susie? You prefer that, don’t you? But listen, if you’ll just come back home with me, I promise I shall have Nanny out of the house this very day. And furthermore, we’ll enrol you in a nice local school so that you can mix with children your own age. How does that sound?’

  He wished now that he had sent the woman packing after Susie had disappeared. She had had it cushy since then, sitting on her fat backside doing nothing, but Alicia had insisted she should stay until they found Susie. What a fool he had been!

  Susie stared at him uncertainly. Could she trust him? ‘I can’t come back,’ she said eventually. ‘I have to help Mrs Dyer with the babies.’

  Mathew frowned. ‘What babies? And where are the nice clothes you were wearing when you left us?’ He realised it was a silly thing to ask the second the words left his lips. Susie had grown taller since she had left home and the clothes probably wouldn’t fit her now.

  ‘Mrs Dyer told me she would keep them nice for me until my sister came to take me home. She’s written to her you see . . . to tell her where I am.’

  ‘Really? And were you able to give her your sister’s address?’ The more Matthew heard of this Mrs Dyer, the less he liked the sound of the woman.

  Susie chewed on her lip for a moment. ‘Well . . . I told her that Opal lived in Nuneaton, so the letter she wrote is bound to reach her, isn’t it?’

  Not wishing to upset the child, Matthew smiled. ‘I tell you what, let’s get you home and settled in then I’ll come back and ask Mrs Dyer to send any reply she might have to our address. How does that sound?’

  Susie was more than a little tempted, especially if the nanny was not going to be there. ‘Erm . . .’ She thought for a moment. Matthew had never lied to her before, so she had no reason to doubt him now. ‘But will . . . Mama be very angry with me for running away?’ Alicia had always insisted on Susie addressing her as Mama, whereas Matthew had been happy for her to call him by his Christian name, which was another thing that had endeared him to her. And oh, the thought of clean hair and a lovely hot bath was so tempting! ‘And you would tell Mrs Dyer where I had gone?’

  ‘Of course. Where does she live?’

  Susie pointed over the bridge. ‘In a hut down there. It isn’t very nice, though.’

  Matthew managed to hide his outrage. What sort of woman was this Mrs Dyer to keep a child from her family and not even try to trace them? But his voice was calm as he answered, ‘Very well. But now will you please come home? I have missed you so much.’

  It was the first time for a very long while that anyone had spoken kindly to the child and, overcome with emotion, she wrapped her arms about Matthew’s neck and he held her close, heartbroken to feel her thin body through her clothes. This Mrs Dyer certainly hadn’t been overfeeding the child, he observed, and she’d feel the length of his tongue when he came back to see her. In fact, for two pins he would report her to the police. But for now, his priority was getting Susie back to the house, so after gently lifting her into his arms he placed her in the carriage and told his driver, ‘Back to the house, please, James, as fast as you know how.’

  ‘Right y’are, sir.’ The driver touched his cap and the horses set off at a trot as Susie leaned back against the comfortable leather squabs.

  When the carriage pulled up again, Susie chewed on her lip fearfully. What if Matthew had been lying and he didn’t send Nanny away? She would be very angry with her, and who knew what she might do when Matthew was out of the way.

  But she needn’t have worried, for after taking her hand and leading her into the hall he barked at the housekeeper, ‘Send Agatha Deverell to me immediately, and go and find my wife.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ The woman was beaming from ear to ear at the sight of the little girl. All the staff, apart from Agatha, had missed her, and she was happy to see her home.

  ‘And then when my wife has seen Susie, you can ask Molly if she would kindly see to it that Miss Susie has a bath, a change of clothes and a good meal. Tell Miss Deverell that I shall be waiting in the drawing room.’

  The housekeeper scooted away, still smiling broadly.

  When Alicia appeared in the doorway of the drawing room, she clapped her hand to her mouth at the sight of Susie. ‘Oh Suzanne, is it really you?’

  ‘From now on she will be called Susie; it is the name she prefers,’ her husband informed her sternly, reluctantly relinquishing his hold on the little girl’s hand so that his wife could greet her.

  The greeting however was very short-lived, for as Alicia gracefully bent next to the child, she got a whiff of her and hurriedly drew back. Thankfully Molly appeared at that moment and after giving Susie a hug she led her away upstairs.

  Alicia asked her husband, ‘Wherever did you find her?’

  ‘I’ll tell you all about it later,’ he answered shortly. Usually he had all the time in the world for his wife, but today he had other things on his mind, especially as Agatha had just appeared from the kitchen.

  ‘Would you come with me, Miss Deverell?’

  ‘Of course, sir. I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to hear that darling Suzanne has been found safe and well and—’ She stopped talking abruptly as she saw the angry look on Matthew’s face, and meek as a lamb she followed him into his study, closing the door softly behind her.

  Matthew went to stand behind his desk and facing her he told her, ‘You are to go and pack your things immediately. I want you out of my house within the hour.’

  ‘But why, sir?’ she simpered innocently, and it was all Matthew could do to stop himself from leaning across the desk and slapping her.

  ‘Why?’ he roared. ‘You have the bare-faced audacity to ask me why? Then I’ll tell you, I know everything now. Susie and I had a little chat in the carriage on the way home and I know all about your cruelty to the child. My mother-in-law expressed her concerns about your treatment of her some long while ago, and I only wish to God that I had listened to her.’

  ‘Why . . . I have never been so insulted in my life!’ Agatha snorted indignantly. ‘I have never so much as laid a finger on the girl; she’s a little liar. But I won’t stay where I am not wanted! If you would kindly sort out my wages and give me a letter of reference, I shall leave as soon as possible!’

  Matthew narrowed his eyes as he leaned heavily over the desk towards her. ‘Make no mistake, you will not be getting so much as another penny piece out of me or a reference. I think I have kept you in comfort sitting on your lazy backside eating me out of house and home for quite long enough. You would have been long gone had it been left to me. In fact, you should think yourself lucky that I’m letting you go without involving the police.’

  The colour drained from Agatha’s cheeks like water down a drain. She knew when she was beaten. ‘In that case I shall leave immediately,’ she stated, and with what dignity she could muster, she walked from the room on legs that suddenly felt as if they had turned to jelly.

  Upstairs in her room she fetched her carpet bag from the bottom of the wardrobe and began to throw her clothes into it, along with a few rather nice pieces of china and silver she had stolen from the cabinets downstairs. This had been one of the cushiest jobs she had ever had and goodness knew where she would go now. Why hadn’t the little brat stayed lost? In the time since she had been gone, she had managed to wrap the mistress around her little finger, but the master was a different kettle of fish altogether. But one day, she promised herself – one day she would make that little brat wish she had never been born, just see if she didn’t!

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  ‘What is this?’ Esther Partridge threw the newspaper that contained the announcement of the engagement down on the desk in front of Henry, as her eyes flashed. ‘Please tell me that it is some sort of awful joke!’

  Henry frowned as he looked up at her. He didn
’t at all appreciate her barging into his home unannounced, but now that she had, he supposed he would have to deal with her.

  ‘Good morning, Esther.’

  ‘Oh, don’t trifle with me,’ she fumed. ‘Answer my question and tell me this isn’t true. Surely you would never consider marrying a nobody from Rapper’s Hole? Think of your position, Henry.’

  He steepled his fingers and stared at her across the top of them. ‘Very well,’ he answered calmly. ‘Yes, it is quite true, my dear. And yes, I have considered my position and I believe that Opal will make a wonderful little wife, regardless of where she came from. She is honest and she has principles, which is all a man could ask for in a wife.’

  Esther began to march up and down the room, her stiff skirts rustling. ‘B-but I always thought we had an unspoken agreement,’ she said eventually. ‘I thought that I was to become the next Mrs King in time.’

  ‘Really?’ Henry looked surprised. ‘Well, I really don’t know what gave you that idea. In truth, until I met Opal, I had no intention of there ever being a next Mrs King. I’m sorry if I ever gave you that impression. I value your friendship, but have never considered us to be anything more than friends.’

  ‘I see.’ Painful colour burned into Esther’s cheeks as she realised what a fool she had been. She had dreamed of becoming Henry’s wife, of being driven about in his fine carriage and of the children they would have, of living in his house, the mistress of all she surveyed – but that dream was gone now and humiliation and cold fury coursed through her.

  ‘You’ll live to regret this,’ she told him through gritted teeth, her plain face mottled with rage, making it look even more unattractive. ‘You’re going to be a laughing stock when word of this spreads, you just mark my words.’

  He surveyed her calmly, and even though his stomach was churning, his voice was dangerously quiet when he said sarcastically, ‘So I take it you won’t want an invitation to the wedding?’

  ‘Huh!’ She tossed her head, making the feathers on her bonnet sway alarmingly. ‘You think right! How could I bear watching you throw yourself away on such a little trollop!’ With that she turned and flounced from the room.

  Henry took a deep breath and sank back in his chair. Esther had made it more than plain for some long time that she harboured feelings for him, but he had never, so far as he knew, given her any encouragement, so it was her fault if she had taken the news of his engagement to Opal badly.

  Picking up the newspaper she had thrown on to the desk, he read the announcement and a smile crossed his face as he imagined making Opal his wife. She was young and innocent, just as he liked his women to be. Even if he had never met Opal, Henry knew that he would never have wed Esther; she was a little long in the tooth for his liking! He had felt just as he did now when he had married his first wife, but as soon as the first bloom of youth had faded from her his interest in her had waned, and he wondered if the same would be true of Opal.

  With a sigh, he laid the newspaper aside and concentrated on the pile of paperwork teetering on his desk.

  The next person who seemed very unimpressed with his choice of wife was his housekeeper, who rapped smartly on the door some two hours later and strode into his study without waiting to be invited.

  ‘Is what I am hearing true, Henry?’ She always addressed him by his first name when they were alone, although used his title in company, as was expected of her.

  ‘And what have you been hearing?’ Once again, he laid his pen down and prepared himself to face a woman’s wrath.

  ‘That . . . that there is to be a new mistress in the house shortly.’

  ‘That is correct, Blanche. Have you come to congratulate me?’

  She was at a loss for words as she thought of all the evenings she had entertained him. In truth, she had never really expected him to make an honest woman of her – she was merely a housekeeper – and yet here he was about to wed a girl who had come from the slums in the worst part of town.

  ‘I . . .’ Her voice trailed away. She could think of nothing to say.

  Seeing her dither, Henry informed her, ‘I was going to tell you and the rest of the staff later today, but no doubt you won’t mind sharing the news with them instead, now that you already know? And have no fear, things will go on just as before . . . Well, most things.’

  She gulped. She wanted to tell him that she wouldn’t stand for it; that she had always served him loyally – in every way – but then common sense took over. She had a cushy position here and didn’t wish to lose it and so, swallowing her pride, she inclined her head. ‘Of course . . . sir!’ And with that she turned and strode from the room, her back as straight as a broom handle.

  ‘God save me from silly jealous women,’ Henry muttered to the empty room, and with a grin he again set to work.

  Up at Mrs King’s house, Opal was preparing for a visit to the dressmaker in town, where she was to choose the material and pattern for her wedding gown. ‘Money is no object,’ Henry had told her generously. ‘You must have the dress of your dreams. I believe a wedding gown is something all young ladies dream of?’

  ‘I think I already have just the style that would suit her in mind,’ Mrs King had answered enthusiastically. ‘Never you fear, son. I shall see to it that she looks the part.’

  So now Opal stood in the hallway, waiting for the carriage to arrive, feeling more than a little nervous. She felt as if she had started something she was in no position to stop, and she was already wondering if she had done the right thing. It was all right Henry telling her that she would grow to love him in time, but what if she didn’t? She would have to spend the rest of her life living with a man she had no feelings for, and the thought was terrifying.

  Too late she realised that she had agreed to the marriage when she was at her lowest ebb, trying to take in the news of her brother’s death. Even now, she was struggling to come to terms with it, but there could be no going back. Already her status in Mrs King’s house had changed dramatically. She was no longer a lady’s maid but a guest who was waited on, and it was taking some getting used to. In fact, she was becomingly increasingly bored with nothing to do all day but embroider and read. The staff there had been kind about it and had wished her well, but Opal doubted that she would get the same reception at Henry’s house. She had seen the way his housekeeper looked at him and had an idea that she, at least, would resent her.

  Her gloomy thoughts were interrupted when she saw Belle helping Mrs King down the stairs.

  ‘Ah, here you are, punctual as ever,’ the old woman said approvingly, as the sound of the horses’ hooves on the drive outside reached them. ‘Come along then. You must be very excited. It isn’t every day you get to choose your wedding gown.’

  When they entered the dressmaker’s shop Mrs King started to search enthusiastically through bolts of material.

  ‘This blue is quite nice,’ Opal suggested hesitantly but the old woman waved it aside.

  ‘No, no, I think ivory or cream would be better. Much more suitable for a bride. Ah, what about this one?’ Her gnarled hand rested on a heavy ivory satin and the dressmaker pulled it out so they could have a better look at it.

  ‘A very good choice,’ the woman said. ‘It’s of the very finest quality and would make up beautifully.’

  ‘That’s the one then.’ Mrs King’s mind was made up and Opal smiled wryly. ‘Do you have a pattern in mind for her?’

  ‘Hm.’ The plump little woman rubbed her double chin as she eyed Opal’s slim figure speculatively. ‘Well . . . I think we should go for a style nipped in tight to the waist to show off what a lovely figure she has. And perhaps a sweetheart neckline and short sleeves, seeing as it’s going to be a summer wedding? A very full skirt with hooped petticoats and a train, and I could embellish the bodice with sequins and pearls so that it sparkles?’

  Opal was feeling as if she needn’t have even been there. The two women seemed to have in mind exactly what she should wear, and it
was becoming increasingly clear that she wasn’t going to have a say in it. However, seeing as she didn’t much care, she was happy to leave them to it and remained silent.

  ‘Perfect.’ Mrs King smiled her approval. ‘And perhaps we could have a bonnet made to match in the same material, with a little veil in front, I think, don’t you?’

  The dressmaker nodded in agreement, and then all that remained was the measuring. Opal stood patiently as the woman measured every inch of her and at last it was done.

  ‘I shall have it ready for the first fitting in three weeks,’ the little dressmaker twittered happily. It would be the most expensive commission she had undertaken for some time.

  As they left the shop, Mrs King decided, ‘Seeing as we’re in town we may as well go and place our order for your bouquet with the florist. I think cream roses and freesias, don’t you? They have such a heavenly scent.’

  ‘As you wish.’ Opal was trying to sound interested, but in truth she didn’t much care what her bouquet would consist of. And so, the florist was the next stop, and after that they called in at the shoemaker, where Mrs King ordered a pair of satin slippers to be made for her. ‘We shall have to have a few more nice day gowns made up for you as well,’ she mused in the carriage on the way home. ‘As Henry’s wife, you will be expected to entertain and it wouldn’t do for you to wear the same gown too often.’

  By the time they got back to Mrs King’s house, Opal felt exhausted, although she had hardly done anything.

  ‘Run along and make yourself look pretty.’ Mrs King patted her arm. ‘Henry will be calling to see you shortly, and you’ll want to look your best for him, won’t you, dear? Now that you are engaged, I think it would be quite suitable to allow you both a little privacy in the day room after lunch.’

  Opal was dismayed at the thought. Since she had accepted his ring, which still felt strangely out of place on her finger, he had become a little more amorous and only the night before he had kissed her fully on the lips. In fairness it hadn’t been awful, but there had been no tingling or wanting more, and Opal had been glad when it was over. Although she was a virgin, having lived on a farm she had a good idea what went on in bed between a husband and wife, and now she was beginning to dread it.