‘I shall make sure you have as little as possible to do with my father, Hetty,’ Leo promised, as if reading her thoughts. ‘You will not have to return to your post as my mother’s maid, either. She has already engaged another young woman. If… no, when, for my mind is made up… when we return to Longton, you shall live like a lady. After all, if I remain there and inherit, you will be Lady Carstairs, mistress of the household some day.’
‘But Leo, the very thought of returning there—’
‘I know, I know.’ He stroked her hair gently. ‘But it will not be like before, I promise you. And I fear we have no other option now. There is no decent life for us here in Paris. I will not have you reduced to selling your body and thieving, and I am sick and tired of trying to sell my drawings to decadent men who secretly despise me for catering to their dubious tastes. It will be better for both of us if we return to England, and Longton.’
Hetty was glad she and Leo were friends again and could see a way out of their difficulties, but the thought of returning to Sir Victor’s domain still upset her intensely. She hoped there would not be too high a price to be paid for this reconciliation between father and son…
Chapter 4
Longton Hall was just as Hetty remembered it, in her worst nightmares. It loomed out of the mist, its gothic towers and crenulations suggesting dark corners and obscure passages within. She shuddered and drew her cloak more tightly round her as the carriage wound its way through the lanes, now giving a glimpse of the ‘old pile’ as Leo disrespectfully called it, and now allowing a few moments’ grace when, with the house out of sight, she could imagine they were simply going for a ride on an English country road.
All too soon they were drawing up before the front doors, where the members of the household were assembled to welcome them. As they descended from the carriage she caught a fleeting glimpse of Lady Alice standing before some female servants, but her gaze was soon riveted on the wheelchair-bound figure of Sir Victor. His face wore a twisted smile intended to be welcoming, but she could not see that grimace without imagining him, whip in hand, indulging his base appetite for cruel flagellation.
Behind him towered a giant of a woman Hetty had not seen before, but there was no welcoming smile on her face, only the grim look of stoically borne duty. She heard a surprised gasp from her husband, and when she turned towards him, it was obvious Leo was staring at the same woman, his expression one of barely concealed horror.
Lady Alice stepped forward, smiling nervously at her son. ‘My dears, you are here at last.’ She stated the obvious in a tone which made an effort to be genial, but which rang painfully false. ‘Let me introduce you to the new members of our household.’ She bestowed a slightly warmer smile on Hetty. ‘Here is Jane, my personal maid and your replacement.’
A pretty young woman moved forward and gave a brief curtsey. Hetty liked the look of her at once. There was a complete absence of guile in her lovely face, which was lit up by a smile that made her blue eyes shine like sapphires. She immediately hoped they might become friends.
‘Now, Leo, I see you are most surprised to see whom I have engaged as your father’s nurse,’ his mother finally acknowledged his expression. ‘It is many years since you saw Nanny Baines, is it not?’
Hetty realised Leo was still in a state of shock when he merely mumbled a greeting to the formidable nurse. She was puzzled by his reaction, but when her turn came to be introduced to the woman, all she received was a formal nod.
The long serving members of the household greeted the young couple more warmly. Sir Victor’s effete valet had left his employ, presumably because Nanny Baines now performed all his former functions, but Mrs Saddler was still the cook and had kept her faithful kitchen staff with her.
Hetty was glad to get inside and take off her damp cloak. She was then invited to take tea with Lady Alice and Jane in the drawing room. Sir Victor was not going to be present, and with luck she might be able to avoid him entirely during her daily life at Longton.
‘So, my dear, how do you feel being back here again?’ her former mistress enquired as she poured fragrant lapsang souchong into a porcelain cup.
‘It is… rather strange,’ Hetty admitted. ‘I left as a servant and now I am returning as Leo’s wife.’
‘That is so, but remember I am still first lady here.’ The firm response was only somewhat softened by an ironic smile.
‘Yes, of course,’ she hastened to reassure her hostess. ‘I would not wish to usurp your position, Lady Alice. Yet I do wonder what my position here will be, since I feel I belong neither upstairs nor downstairs, but somewhere betwixt and between.’
‘I am sure you will be of great help to your husband, my dear. He will need help now he is to be running the estate by himself. You always struck me as a level-headed girl, Hetty, and that is what is needed here now to get things back on an even keel.’ She sighed abruptly. ‘I am afraid things have been allowed to run to seed.’
‘But am I to have no proper status in the household?’ she persisted.
‘I am afraid we cannot afford to provide a lady’s maid for you. Still, I am sure you are used to making do, and you always manage to look well turned out. I am sure we can devise some duties for you if you wish to keep yourself occupied. These days, I am often indisposed and would be glad of someone to discuss menus with the cook in my place, or occasionally to play hostess when Sir Victor entertains his friends.’
This last remark struck terror into Hetty’s heart. She knew exactly what kind of entertainment the debauched squire liked to offer his guests. Lady Alice always withdrew after dinner and played no part in the lewd proceedings that followed, but Hetty doubted she would be allowed the same leeway.
Lady Alice leaned forward and patted her hand. ‘I am sure you will be happy here despite all that has occurred in the past. Leo and my husband are reconciled, and Nanny Baines takes good care of Victor. She was my son’s nanny, you know, until he left for boarding school when he was nine years old. Now she is looking after his poor father. A case of “from cradle to grave” most likely.’ She laughed breathlessly, and suddenly her hand flew to her forehead. ‘Oh dear… sudden laughter plays havoc with my headache. I think I shall retire now, but you need not come with me, Jane. Have a little chat, the two of you. I am sure you will enjoy comparing notes about this house and its occupants.’
The mistress of the house rose and left the drawing room wearing an odd little smirk on her face, and for a few moments there was an awkward silence between the two young women, broken only by the light clatter of cups on saucers as they finished their tea.
Finally, Hetty decided to take the initiative. ‘How long have you been here, Jane?’ she asked politely.
‘Just six months, miss. There was another girl before, but she proved… unsatisfactory.’
‘And how do you find it here?’
Jane’s beautiful eyes darkened slightly. ‘Very good, thank you, miss.’
Hetty knew she was being given a stock reply, the answer the girl thought she wanted to hear. ‘Jane, you need not pretend to me.’ She drew her chair closer to hers. ‘I have been in your position, too, as you know. And please call me Hetty when we are alone. There is no need to be so formal.’
‘Thank you… Hetty. Well, I must say, I found it all very strange at first. I came from a house that was more… well, more ordinary.’
‘There have been strange goings-on within these walls, Jane, make no mistake,’ she said grimly. ‘And I have been both privy and party to them. But let me hear your impressions of the staff and family, beginning with Lady Alice.’
‘Well, Miss Hetty, she is quite kind most days and only once really lost her temper with me. That was when I told tales on Sir Victor.’
‘Why? What had he done?
‘He made so bold as to pinch my bottom as I was passing by his chair. I thought I had better report it to my lady,
but she told me I must be lying because he was the perfect gentleman and an invalid besides. That was when she said a scolding was not enough.’
‘And how did she punish you, Jane?’
A delicate flush spread over her features. ‘She… she spanked me with her hairbrush.’
‘In private?’ Hetty queried relentlessly.
‘Yes, in her bedroom. She made me lay facedown on her big bed while she pulled down my drawers and gave me what for. It stung so bad I never dared say nothing about Sir Victor to her again.’
‘And would you have had cause to tell her anything more, Jane?’
Tears brimmed in her eyes. ‘Oh yes, Miss Hetty, I am afraid so.’
She did not wish to push the girl too far, so she enquired about Nanny Baines.
‘Oh she is a tyrant, that one! She rules everyone with a rod of iron, including Sir Victor. She is a real tartar, and no mistake.’
Now Hetty thought she understood her husband’s trepidation when he first caught sight of the woman. As his old nanny, she must have ruled him with a rod of iron, too. ‘Has she disciplined you, Jane?’
‘Only with harsh words and a slap on the cheek. That was the day Sir Victor wheeled himself into the stillroom.’
‘Ah…’ Hetty remembered the stillroom well. Its location – at the end of a dark passageway and far from the main body of the house – made it the ideal spot for a clandestine encounter.
‘He started to make free with me,’ Jane continued, ‘as I stood at the bench. I was shocked, but not altogether surprised since he had already pinched my bottom.’
‘What did he do this time?’ Hetty surprised herself with the note of eagerness in her voice. She did not understand why she should feel so keen to know the details, but somehow it made her feel better. Perhaps it was the knowledge she was not the only one to have suffered at Sir Victor’s wandering hands.
‘He…’ Jane swallowed the memory of her emotions in order to continue speaking calmly. ‘He lifted my skirt and stroked my bottom quite intimately. I begged him to stop, but he would not, and all the while he was saying… things.’
‘What kind of things?’ she enquired gently. ‘Remember, Jane, I have also suffered at that man’s hands. You will not shock me. Feel free to speak plain.’
‘But I have not spoken of it to anyone,’ she looked thoroughly miserable, ‘not after Lady Alice would not believe me.’
Hetty’s heart went out to the girl. She squeezed her hand in sympathy, and waited.
‘He said I had a nice round bottom, and that he would love to see it laid bare before him. I told him that was rude talk, and he said he knew it was but could not help himself. He made me feel it was my fault, as if I somehow encouraged him.’
‘It is not your fault, Jane.’ She was angry now. ‘That man is a lecher and a rake. I had hoped after his accident he would be a reformed character, but it is obvious he is just the same as when I left.’
‘I do not know what to do, Miss Hetty. I am so frightened every time I go down to the stillroom. I am terrified he will suddenly appear.’
‘Do not worry, from now on I shall come with you,’ she promised. ‘Just come to me each time you need to go there and I will make sure you are not alone.’
Relief and gratitude shone out of Jane’s jewel-bright eyes. ‘Oh thank you, miss!’
‘Whatever happens, you may confess it to me, and if I can do anything about it, I will. I am your friend now, Jane. I know what it is like to feel alone and persecuted, but now I have some clout here. Even though I am not mistress of the house, I am married to the heir, and that counts for something.’
The conversation satisfactorily ended, Hetty decided to take a walk around the garden. She found Leo there talking to the head gardener, and he asked her to accompany him on a tour of the grounds. ‘Things are in a sorry state,’ he told her. ‘But two heads are better than one. Perhaps you can help me sort out the priorities.’
Soon, however, she was obliged to face her nightmare memories again. There, looking somewhat more ramshackle than when she last set eyes upon it, was the infamous summerhouse, scene of Sir Victor’s obscene revels. ‘Oh Leo,’ she said faintly, ‘that terrible place! Let us not go near it, please.’
‘On the contrary.’ He grasped her hand and half dragged her towards it with determined strides. ‘It is time we faced our ghosts, Hetty. You and I have a perfect right to inspect the building, and inspect it we shall. Do not let the past haunt you, my dear.’
She acquiesced for her husband’s sake, watching nervously as he unlocked the padlock with a key from the bunch hanging from his belt. The ancient door creaked menacingly as it swung open and the interior of the building was dark, but through a hole in the roof a faint shred of sky could be glimpsed that shed an eerie light on the messy floor.
‘Let us have some more light,’ Leo declared, and reaching up to the sconces on the wall soon had several of the thick candles lit. In the flickering illumination, Hetty could distinguish the accumulated rubbish – old birds’ nests, rats’ droppings, shredded upholstery and scraps of paper. There was a musty smell, too, that made her wrinkle her nose.
‘Well, things have come to a pretty pass here,’ he observed, walking over to the bookcase and unlocking it. ‘Hmm, the books seem in good condition still, as they have been kept under glass. Some of them are quite valuable, I believe. We may not approve of their contents, but that is no excuse for neglecting them. I think we should inspect them more closely to make sure the pages are not foxed or the covers damaged by damp or rot.’
She followed him over to the bookcase, and in the candlelight refreshed her memory of some of the titles on display. There was Spare Not the Rod, a treatise on the rearing of importunate young women. She flipped through its pages and studied some of the drawings of girls in various stages of undress being disciplined by a variety of implements. Next to it on the shelf sat Barbaric Beatings, which was similarly illustrated, as was Sweet Agony, a novel by Father Ignorantine, which according to the foreword was about the salvation of fallen women through ‘penitential punishment’.
Leo was walking around the room scribbling in his notebook. ‘I think we may turn this into a proper summerhouse,’ he remarked. ‘Somewhere pleasant for the ladies of the house to take their ease, the way it was first intended. We shall purge the place of its shameful history, Hetty, my dear. Wait and see.’
‘I wish you could do the same to my memory.’ She linked her arm affectionately through his. ‘I would like it swept clean of all dark cobwebs and refurbished with pure, innocent thoughts.’
He kissed her cheek. ‘Are you pleased to be back?’
‘Yes and no. I love the house and gardens, and Lady Alice is being kind to me.’
‘She wants to keep us here.’
‘The other servants are respectful, too, and I like Jane a great deal, I think she and I could be friends, but—’
‘Good! You need a companion, Hetty. I am sure you already miss the few friends you had in Paris.’
‘Yes, but… tell me about Nanny Baines, Leo. I understand she had charge of you when you were a child?’
His face darkened. ‘I only hope she is being as cruel to my detestable father as she was to me,’ he muttered in a voice so laden with venom she was astounded.
‘Why?’ she breathed. ‘What did she do to you that was so terrible?’
‘Another time,’ he said curtly. ‘But mind you, do not get on the wrong side of her, that is all. Now let us extinguish these sconces, I have seen enough here, and return to the house.’
They entered by the side door and made their way to the front hall, where Hetty was surprised to be met by Jane.
‘Excuse me, Miss Hetty, but you said to tell you when a certain order was given…’
Leo took leave of his wife with an absent kiss and strode off in the direction of the library.
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‘What is it, Jane?’
‘The stillroom, I have been asked to go there and fetch lavender water for her ladyship, and you said—’
‘I know what I said and I shall keep my word,’ she replied with a smile. ‘Come, let us go together now.’
The pair of them ventured into the long dark corridor at the back of the house, leading to the old dairy and stillroom and from there to the stables. Hetty knew the latter used to be a favourite haunt of Sir Victor in the days when he could still ride, but she hardly expected to find him lurking there now. Everything seemed quiet as they entered the stillroom, and she sat gazing out of the small window at the park outside while Jane measured out the required amount of toilet water, pouring it into the fancy glass bottle belonging to Lady Alice. Witnessing the operation, she found herself possessed by a nostalgic mood. How many times she had performed that same task, always with one ear and one eye open for the evil intruder. ‘Stopper it up well,’ she advised her successor. ‘You know to keep it in the dark, Jane? All perfumes lose their potency if exposed to light and air.’
‘Yes, Miss Hetty,’ she replied dutifully, but suddenly the cork flew from her fingers and rolled into a dark corner beneath the bench. ‘Oh dear!’ She put the bottle on a shelf and went down on her hands and knees to search for it while Hetty drew back, afraid her interference was making the girl nervous and clumsy. Then she heard a strange sound, a rhythmic squeaking that seemed to be coming closer, and before she had quite worked out what it was, the door was pushed wide open and the chair-bound figure of Sir Victor filled the threshold. He did not see Hetty, for his beady eyes were fixed intently on Jane’s upturned bottom.
‘What have we here?’ he gloated hoarsely. ‘Young Jane upon her knees? Oh happy hour.’
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