Her Secret Baby

by Christine Sterling

  “Fighting?” she asked. She knew they had fights from time to time, but nothing in a way that would scare the maids into hiding.

  “Yes. He came home in a rage. He was drunk. Mistress Anne was reading in the study, and without warning, he grabbed her and hauled her upstairs. They have been shouting at each other ever since.”

  “What?” Elizabeth screeched, as she walked past them to the door, with the intention of going upstairs to help her aunt.

  The older maid grasped her arm, rendering her motionless. “You mustn’t go! It’s too dangerous. He is not himself. Mistress Anne would not want you to get hurt as well.”

  She looked around at all the maids, and their terrified faces. She sensed this was not a singular incident. She turned and faced the maid from earlier. “Has this been happening often?”

  The girl nodded her head. “For the past few months. He’s been getting more and more aggressive. He throws her around and hits her. Henry tried to help her a few weeks ago, and Harold threw him out.”

  Elizabeth gasped. Henry was an older gentleman who took care of the lawns and gardens of the estate. He was a friendly old man, whom Elizabeth had known since she had come to stay there. He had watched her grow up; she couldn’t fathom him not being there.

  “And when Henry tried again, Harold called the police. He told him never to return. Henry was spooked,” continued the older maid. She turned and motioned to one of the younger girls, who was small, with chocolate brown hair and a trembling mouth. “Aster received the brunt of his anger yesterday.” She motioned to the girl, who revealed her wrists with burn marks. It looked like someone had grabbed her wrists in a vice grip and twisted.

  “We want to help Mistress, we really do, but we can’t be of much help to her if he keeps picking us off one by one.”

  Before Elizabeth could react, there was a crash. It sounded like a vase being thrown down the stairs. There were hard footsteps down the wooden steps and more shouting. The noise became louder and the voices became clearer. The maids and Mary shuttled behind Elizabeth, shaking with fear.

  “You are good for nothing!” Harold bellowed. There was another crash; this time, whatever he threw landed against the kitchen door. “I have a useless wife who gives me nothing but anguish.”

  There was whimpering, Elizabeth could hear through the wall. She knew it was her aunt pleading with her husband. Elizabeth’s heart fell to the bottom of her stomach, but she stayed frozen in her tracks. He threw some more items; Anne’s crying became more pronounced. “Silence!” he yelled. “You are only getting what you deserved. You did this to me. You are the reason why I am like this.” There were a few stomps and then a slam of the door.

  A few moments passed before Elizabeth felt she could breathe again and a few more moments when she saw the rest of the room regain movement. The kitchen door swung open and Anne appeared in the doorway, gasping for air. Sweat gleamed from her forehead as strands of hair from her up-do stuck to her face. A trickle of blood was dripping from her scalp.

  The maids seemed to spring into action before Elizabeth knew what was happening. They grasped Anne’s outstretched hands and guided her to the table, where they set her down. They all scurried around her, each taking a different task.

  Anne seemed to be in such a daze, she hadn’t realized the extra company until she turned her face to stare straight into Elizabeth’s stony gaze. “Elizabeth? What are you doing here?” she said, embarrassment etching across her face.

  Elizabeth felt it was too late for such a reaction, now that she had seen what had been happening right under her nose. She scolded herself for not noticing sooner. “It doesn’t matter,” she replied, kneeling so her hands rested on Anne’s lap. “I’m here now. I can’t believe this is happening. He cannot hurt you like this.”

  “It’s nothing. He was just a little mad and threw some things. That’s all.”

  Elizabeth sat, shocked at her aunt’s admission. Was she hearing herself? “You are not fine! You have a cut on your head. And you are carrying a baby. His baby, for that matter. You are putting yourself in danger by being here. We need to leave.”

  Anne looked at Elizabeth like she had burned her with a flame. “That’s absurd. I can’t leave my husband.”

  “You can, and you should,” Elizabeth answered, standing up to drag her aunt to her feet. She would stay with her, Elizabeth reasoned. The Mistress wouldn’t find out and then in the morning, they would go about securing herself away from Harold. There should be enough money to hide her somewhere.

  Anne firmly pulled her hands away. “No, Elizabeth. I will not.” She looked into her eyes, her own turning into blocks of ice. “My home is here. My family is here. I cannot leave, not like this.”

  Elizabeth was speechless. “But Aunt Anne…,” she tried to continue.

  “I think you should leave,” Anne said, cutting her off. She turned towards the older maid, “Gale, please escort Elizabeth and her friend out of the house.”

  The maids all looked at their mistress as if she had grown three heads. It was very unlike her, to act in this way. Gale moved forward, taking Elizabeth by the hand. “This way, mi’lady.”

  Gale led her out of the kitchen, with Mary following closely behind. Elizabeth wanted to protest, but when she turned around, she saw the torment that was on her aunt’s face. Before she could think about this, the maid led them out of the house. “Miss Elizabeth, I’m sorry,” she said before going back inside the house and closing the door.

  Elizabeth despondently walked down the porch steps, with Mary following her. They didn’t speak for a few minutes, until Mary coughed beside her. “Elizabeth, I think there is something I should tell you.”

  Elizabeth turned to the young girl. She could see in her face something was troubling her. “What is it Mary?”

  Mary dipped her head. “I hope you don’t think any different of me, when I tell you this.”

  She stopped and faced Mary, grabbing her hands and rubbing them between her fingers. “With the day I’ve had, I don’t think you can do anything that could change my thoughts of you. So, what do you need to tell me?”

  Mary adjusted her weight from one foot to the next, nervously. Finally, she gave a sigh. “I recognized the man’s voice.”

  Elizabeth thought to herself of the voice she was referring to, until it hit her. “You mean Harold’s?”

  “Yes!” she exclaimed. “Wait. Yes, the voice, but no, not by Harold. At least, that’s not the name of the man’s whose voice that belongs to. His name is Mr. Reed, but I do not know his first name.”

  “And you are sure that the voice you heard is the same man?”

  “Yes! I am very sure. I would remember that voice in my deepest sleep.”

  Elizabeth was still skeptical of the girl’s memory, so she questioned the man’s looks. When Mary described in detail some of Harold’s facial features, Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide. “How do you know him?”

  “That’s the part I don’t want to tell you.”

  Elizabeth breathed a heavy sigh. “Nothing will change, I promise you.”

  Mary took a deep breath, “I know of him because he came around the house I lived before. My mother, she…she was a woman of many talents. That’s how she made a living. We lived in this enormous house in the city, her, my older sister, and I, with other women with similar gifts. Men would come around for her services. I didn’t really know what kind of work she did, until I became older. I was such a naïve girl.”

  Are still a naïve girl, Elizabeth thought to herself as Mary continued. “There was this man, who would always come around. He frightened me. He was very angry, but my mother told me there was nothing to worry about. I remember years back, he was boasting about how he found some doe-eyed woman, whom was going to make him rich. He was so happy, praising himself for finding someone dumb enough to fall for his charms. The girls questioned whether he would come around again, but he said that it would be a while; he needed to get settled in first but as soon
as he was able to get to her money, it would be flowing freely. All the girls were anxious. They had never had a rich man cater on them before.”

  “He came back a few weeks after, but he didn’t have any money. He ranted and raved about not being able to access his wife’s fortune. Not too long ago, when I was packing my bags to come here to work, he mentioned some research about how to get his wife’s money. He was even looking into how to get the money. We have a few lawyers who come to the house, and they were discussing the issue. I remember I was walking in the hall, when I heard the lawyer asking him about possible children. He said an heir would be an easy way to contest a contract.”

  Elizabeth felt knowing her uncle had frequented a brothel would be the worst of the news, but now there was an even more pressing truth; what she had always thought was an act of anger was a carefully thought out plan to take her aunt’s finances. As she comforted Mary, telling her she didn’t think anything different of the girl, Elizabeth vowed when she left this town, she was going to take her aunt with her.

  Chapter 4

  Carl Gaines was acting very suspicious, Tom thought, as he watched the man scurry around behind the bar. Tom took a swig of his whisky and eyed the barkeep. This morning, he saw the man meet a girl at the train station. He wouldn’t have thought very much of it, until he remembered he had seen him two days ago, with a very different girl coming from the train. Both girls were young and plain, both were carrying suitcases with them, and both had very scared looks on their faces when he passed them. Now, hours later, the women were nowhere to be found. Tom was taking a short break from the work at the general store. He had just finished the roof a few days ago, a task that in all took three weeks to complete. Mr. Smith was so gracious, he asked Tom to help fix the floorboards in the store too. Tom couldn’t pass up the job; the money was just so easy to make.

  Carl seemed to be writing something down on a few pieces of parchment, folding them carefully afterwards and slipping them inside three different envelopes. Tom gulped down the rest of his whisky and whistled towards Carl. The noise seemed to startle Carl, who looked up with a scared look on his face. When he turned his head towards Tom and saw Tom’s empty glass, he shook his head. “Another please, Carl,” Tom said as Carl took the glass from Tom and filled it with more of the amber liquid. When he pushed the glass back to him and started to walk away, Tom whistled to him again. Carl turned around, with annoyance etched on his face. “I saw you this morning with a lovely lady,” Tom started, trying to gauge Carl’s reaction, “but I don’t seem to see her here. Was she a family member?”

  Carl’s face stayed unemotional, but Tom could see his eyes dart back and forth in fear. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “Sure, you do! I was walking by this morning, from the hotel to the store, and I saw you with this young girl. She seemed to be in some distress, so I wanted to know if everything is ok?”

  Carl shrugged his shoulders and quickly picked up a rag from under the counter, putting it on the top so he could bring it back and forth on the wood. “Maybe you need to lay off the whisky.”

  Tom didn’t like the assumption in Carl’s voice. He could feel tension building in his arms. “I know what I saw.”

  Carl looked up, anger shadowing his features. He was about to say something, when Seth walked through the saloon doors. He looked over at Tom and called him over. Carl took this opportunity to make a hasty exit, as he ran back to the end of the counter and picked up his envelopes before running to the back.

  “What’s up with him?” Seth asked, as he collapsed into the seat next to him. “He seems more fidgety than usual.”

  Tom took a few gulps of his newly poured drink. “Don’t really know. I saw him this morning with a young girl.”

  Seth took off his hat, setting it to the side of him. He scratched his head. “A young girl? Maybe someone should warn her away from him,” he added, with a laugh. Carl Gaines was not someone any young girl should find themselves in the company of. There were rumors flurrying around saying Carl had weaseled his way into ownership of this saloon. It was built by an old man and his sons; then his sons died in a horrible accident, leaving the old man alone. Carl came in on a train and convinced the man he was one of his long-lost sons. Before anyone else knew it, the old man was gone, and Carl was now the owner of the establishment.

  Tom didn’t know how much of this story was true, but with his interactions with the man, he always had a disgusting feeling at the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t quite shake Carl was up to no good. “Something is going on with him, I just can’t put my finger on it.”

  As if on cue, the Sheriff walked into the saloon. John Henderson was a tall man, with blond hair and a scruffy face. He had a domineering look and a commanding appearance. Which was a good look for a sheriff.

  “Hey Sheriff!” Tom said, getting off his stool to slap the man on the shoulder. “What are you doing here? Let me buy you a drink.”

  The Sheriff eyed Tom wearily. “I’m not here for a leisure call. I’m here to look around.”

  “What are you looking for?” Seth asked.

  Tom chuckled. “Misty isn’t here, if that’s what you are asking about.”

  The Sheriff grunted, ignoring Tom’s comment. “I’ve been hearing rumblings among some of the town’s people. Seems there has been an influx of woman coming into town, but they are disappearing. I got a tip that I should look in here.”

  Tom and Seth exchanged glances. “Tom was just talking about seeing Carl Gaines at the train station with some girl.”

  Tom scowled at his friend. Although Tom felt Carl was doing something, he didn’t want to get involved. He already had a very shaky relationship with the Sheriff in general; he didn’t want to give him anymore cause for concern. “Yeah, I did see something, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary.” Tom said cryptically.

  Seth looked at his friend warily, when Carl came back from the back of the saloon. “Sheriff! What do I owe the pleasure?” he said, when he saw the Sheriff standing in his saloon.

  “Just browsing Carl. Seems that I’ve gotten some complaints about young woman disappearances from the train station. I’ve heard you might be able to give me more information about that?”

  For the smallest moment, Carl gave Tom the iciest stare. If Tom wasn’t looking directly at him, he might have missed it. Before Tom could question it, Carl had put on his good Samaritan face. “I don’t really know what you are talking about; I haven’t seen any young ladies recently. They don’t come in here, unless you count my entertainment.”

  The Sheriff didn’t seem to budge on his explanation. “Well, if you don’t mind, could I look around? You know, just to keep people at ease.”

  Carl put his hands up in surrender. “Of course, follow me. You’ll see there is nothing to be suspicious about.” Carl led the Sheriff to the back of the bar and they disappeared behind a swinging door.

  Seth looked up at Tom. “Why didn’t you tell the Sheriff what you saw?”

  Tom shook his head. “I didn’t think it was important. It could just be nothing. Maybe I was seeing things,” Tom spout off. “I have to get going,” he said, taking the last of his drink in one gulp. “And I’m guessing you aren’t down here to shoot the breeze.”

  Seth chuckled. “No, I’m here to check up on you.”

  Tom smiled. “Because of your lovely wife?”

  “The very one,” Seth said, as they walked out of the saloon.

  “I’m doing good, though Mr. Smith wants me to do the floor now.”

  “Still working? Samantha seems to think you may be avoiding the farm.”

  Tom sighed. “It’s good money Seth, you know that.”

  “I do know that, but you also know, you don’t really need the money now.”

  Tom scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I like the work.” As Tom looked at his friend, he could see in his face he wasn’t really believing Tom’s words. But if he was questioning it, he didn’t voice his con
cerns. “Well, don’t be a stranger. I have to get some supplies and then I’m due back.”

  They heard a rustling behind them; the Sheriff emerged from the place. “Hey Sheriff, that was quick,” Seth said.

  “There isn’t much back there to check,” the Sheriff said, dusting off the brim of his hat. “Seems like everything is in order though. I’m going to head off to the hotel now, got another call from Higgins.”

  As the Sheriff walked away, Tom couldn’t help himself. “Well, look at that. I wonder what it is for?” he eyed Seth as started laughing. They said their parting greetings and Seth made his way down the street. Tom looked back at the saloon. Even though the Sheriff couldn’t find anything, he just knew something was wrong. But then he turned around and glanced at Martha May, who was giving him a come-hither look as she walked into the store in front of him and he decided there were other, more important things to attend to.

  “You should add salt,” Elizabeth told Mary, as she was preparing dinner for the night. Mary nodded her head and grabbed the salt to add to the soup. “And now you let it stew for a few hours and then it should be ready.”

  Mary stirred the soup, setting the spoon down on the side of the pot. “It smells so good!”

  Elizabeth smiled. “It’s an old family recipe.” For the past two months, Elizabeth was working tirelessly to help Mary become a more substantial member of the house. When she told Mistress Grayson about her impending marriage, she was saddened to be left without a governess for her children. She started to lament on having to replace two jobs in her house; Elizabeth knew the second job was Mary. Determined, she thought her last few months would be best helped if she started to take Mary under her wing and teach her to be a better maid. She mentioned this to the Mistress, explaining that she would expand her duties for the next two months before she left.

  Mrs. Grayson was so happy, she offered a hefty compensation, which Elizabeth took, hiding it away for her trip out west. She had already taken all the money she had to secure a private compartment on the train she was taking west, enough to fit two women and a baby. She had been carefully planning this trip for weeks now and everything was ready. The only thing left to do was to convince her aunt this was the best choice. She hadn’t been to the house since that fateful night, but it was not for a lack of trying. She had gone, every Sunday, for two months like she always did. The maids, however, always turned her away at the door. With always the same excuse: Mistress Anne is not feeling well. By the third week, Elizabeth knew Anne was avoiding her, but that didn’t stop her. She knew, hoped, that one day her aunt would break and allow her to come in.