Her Saving Grace

by Catherine Winchester

  “I’m not special, I’m odd.” She was under no illusions about how strange most people found her and despite her gifts, her mother had taken great pleasure in pointing out her numerous failings. Even her father hadn’t believed her to be lovable by anyone other than him; why else would he have arranged a marriage for her, unless he didn’t believe that she could find a husband on her own.

  “You are perfectly likeable, Damaris, but your insistence that you aren’t is most likely what drives people away. You probably want it that way, since it keeps people at arm’s length and heaven forbid that you should get close to anyone. Perhaps the real issue here isn’t whether people like you or not, I think the real issue is, do you like other people?”

  He strode off down the hall and had thrown the door open before she had a chance to react.

  Was he right? Did people not like her because she drove them away, rejecting them before they could reject her?

  She followed him outside, although at a much slower pace than he.

  Now that there was room, four of the children were inside the carriage when she got there, two sitting next to Nathaniel and two on the opposite bench. They bunched up as she climbed in and she silently took the seat beside them.

  The child next to her was the one she had tried to talk to at the house. Judging by her size, she appeared to be the youngest, perhaps three or four years old. She was also one of the dirtiest, so when the girl leaned into Damaris, she was initially wary. She didn’t much care for her dress but she knew that it was expensive and if it became too dirty, not to mention the possibility of it becoming infested with lice or fleas, the garment would have to be burned.

  The girl was only after comfort though, something she had probably received very little of, and after a few awkward moments, Damaris put her arm around the child’s shoulders.

  She hadn’t been near, let alone held a child in years but to her surprise, it came naturally. Her hand soon began to rub the child’s arm in a soothing manner and when the girl moved into a more comfortable position, wrapping her short arms as far around Damaris’ waist as she could, Damaris leaned forward to make it easier for the girl.

  She had thought that her instinct to care and nurture had long since died, along with Thomas, but it actually hurt to realise how easily it came back to her.

  She didn’t believe in God and Heaven, but she couldn’t help wondering if Tom could see her now. How would he feel, to see his mother’s arms wrapped around another child?

  She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice Nathaniel watching her closely, so when she caught his eye, she blushed and quickly averted her gaze, feeling uncomfortable with his scrutiny.

  Once at her father’s house, they unloaded the children and Damaris was relieved that the girl was no longer cuddling her. She approached the driver.

  “Could you go to Copley Hall and fetch Mrs Paddington for me?”

  The driver nodded. “Right you are, ma’am.”

  She turned back to the house, just in time to see the last of the children being ushered inside by Nate, and she found herself reaching for the hand of the girl who had been cuddling into her, but the child was gone, of course, and suddenly she felt a pang of something akin to grief.

  She shook her head, as if she could shake such foolish thoughts and feelings away. That girl was nothing to her, she didn’t even know her name so to feel upset that she was gone was foolish. Besides, she was only a few feet away, inside her childhood home.

  She marched inside to see Mr and Mrs Higgins talking to Nate; the children were clustered together on one side of the hall.

  “The help should be here soon, so they shouldn’t place any additional burden on you,” Nathaniel was explaining.

  “At least, not for long,” Damaris said, stepping up to them. “I’ve also sent the driver for Lilly, she used to be a governess, so hopefully she won’t mind helping out here. I promise that it is only temporary and you will be compensated for any trouble. I am sorry to do this to you but I just couldn’t leave them there. If you could have seen them…”

  Mrs Higgins, who had looked rather shocked by the procession of children coming into her home, now smiled.

  “It’s no bother,” she assured her employer. “You always did have a big heart, and I dare say I couldn’t have left them there either. Now, first things first, Mr Higgins, you’ll kindly get the servants tub out and put it by the fire in the kitchen. You children follow him and I expect you to help fill the tub. Once you’re changed, we’ll burn those clothes and see what else we can find you. Ma’am,” she turned to Damaris, “Would you help me go through the trunks in the attic?”

  “Of course.”

  “You wait here, Lord Copley,” Mrs Higgins ordered, “and when the help arrives, send one girl to Mr Higgins and one to us in the attic.”

  He wasn’t used to being ordered around by staff and Damaris wondered how he would react, but he seemed eager to help.

  “Of course,” he nodded.

  “Right then, come on children, no dawdling!” she said, heading to the stairs herself.

  ***

  Among other things, the attic was full of old clothes from Damaris and her brother’s childhoods. Some items were a little grand for these children, they would feel uncomfortable in them but thankfully, children’s wardrobes are usually simple so aside from a few gowns for special occasions, most of the clothes were functional, if cut from a better cloth than the youngsters were used to.

  They sorted through the trunks, collecting a range of clothes in various sizes for the children to try on.

  They had just sorted through the second trunk when Mrs Higgins looked behind Damaris and smiled.

  “Well, hello there, who might you be?”

  Damaris turned to look but she couldn’t see who Mrs Higgins was talking to.

  “It’s all right, you won’t be in trouble,” Mrs Higgins continued.

  Slowly, a face appeared from behind a stack of furniture. It was the girl who had sat next to Damaris in the carriage.

  “Still haven’t had that bath,” Mrs Higgins noted, “but never mind, there’s plenty more water.”

  The girl stood mute, still half hidden from view.

  “It’s all right, you can come out,” Damaris said, holding her hand out towards her.

  The girl looked from the hand to Damaris’ face, and back a half dozen times before she finally eased a little further into view. Her gaze flickered towards the door, her escape route.

  “Come on.” Damaris gestured for her to step closer but she didn’t. “Well, all right, stay there if you feel safer.”

  She returned to her task of sorting clothes, as did Mrs Higgins who gave her a conspiratorial smile. Damaris hadn’t been trying to coax her out by intentionally being contrary, she simply didn’t want the girl to be afraid but if she did come out, Damaris may well get more attached to the waif, and that wouldn’t be a good thing.

  The next trunk they opened contained old linen, things which had been kept with the intention of turning them into cleaning rags.

  “There should be some old towels in here, we’ll probably need them,” Mrs Higgins noted.

  “Good idea.”

  As they began to sort through the contents, Damaris felt something against her skirts and knew that it must be the girl; she seemed acutely aware of her presence even when her back was turned.

  They were almost done when someone knocked on the door frame. Damaris turned to the doorway while the girl positioned herself behind Damaris’ skirts, hiding there as best she could.

  “Excuse me, Ma’am, I’m Emily Ogden. I was told you had work for me?”

  “Did you bring a friend?” Damaris asked.

  “I did, Ma’am, Lisa.”

  “And do you both have experience caring for children?”

  “I’ve got two brothers and sisters who I helped care for, and Lisa’s the eldest of eight.”

  “And where is Lisa now?”

 
“In the kitchen, Ma’am, helping fill the bath tub. The man sent me up here to help you.”

  “Then help us carry these clothes down and I’ll take you to the children.”

  They divided the clothes up but as they left the room, Damaris took the top item from her pile and dropped it. She felt the presence behind her dip to pick it up and couldn’t help but smile. The girl had probably only wanted to help but was too afraid to say so.

  Down in the kitchen, a screen had been erected around the tub and the first boy was washing, his old clothes having been thrown back over the screen. After they piled the new clothes onto the kitchen table, Mrs Higgins got a wooden spoon and gingerly picked the old clothes up with it, depositing them in the fireplace.

  From the corner of her eye, Damaris saw the girl neatly fold the shirt that had been dropped and when she thought that no one was looking, place it on top of a pile.

  Damaris turned around and winked at the child. “Good girl,” she whispered. The child looked startled, so Damaris quickly diverted her attention back to the other occupants of the kitchen.

  One by one the children were washed, scrubbed with lye soap to kill fleas and nits, then redressed and sent to sit at the table to wait.

  Mrs Higgins and Damaris took the freshly washed and towel wrapped girls into the spacious pantry and sorted through clothes to find things which fit them, while Nathaniel oversaw the same process with the boys, from the privacy of the servants’ dining room.

  The tub water was changed three times to keep it clean. Emily and Lisa began working on a stew for supper but in the meantime, the children were given bread and jam as a reward for bathing, which they eagerly devoured.

  Finally only the smallest girl was left. At some point she had slipped her hand into Damaris’ but it felt so natural that she hardly noticed.

  “Your turn,” Damaris told the girl. She was acutely aware of Nathaniel watching her closely. “Go on, get changed and have a bath.”

  The girl actually looked frightened.

  “Go on,” Damaris encouraged, trying to let go of her hand and nudge her towards the screen, but the girl’s grip tightened and she refused to move.

  “She’s never ‘ad a bath,” said one of the boys seated at the kitchen table. The children didn’t talk much and none had spoken directly to her before.

  “Never?” She was shocked. She knew that the poor probably didn’t bathe as often as the rich, but to have never had a bath at three or four years old was unthinkable.

  “Never. We haven’t ‘ad one in years neither, too much trouble, Mrs Murray said.”

  No wonder they were filthy.

  She looked down at the little girl who still gripped her hand. She had to wash, there was simply no other way to get so much grime off.

  “What’s her name?” she heard Nathaniel ask.

  She had intentionally not asked the child’s name because she didn’t want to get attached.

  “Ella,” the boy answered.

  It was a nice name, Damaris thought. She bent down so she wouldn’t look so imposing.

  “Will you have a bath if I help you?”

  Ella looked to the screen then back at Damaris and after a moment to consider, she gave a hesitant nod.

  “Come on then.”

  She led the girl behind the screen and checked the temperature of the water, which was rapidly cooling. She added a pan of hot water from the stove, then refilled it to heat up again, before she set about undressing the girl.

  She was in a much worse state than Damaris had thought and as she removed each item of clothing, a new wound was revealed to her. Some were insect bites, probably fleas, which had festered. Others were chafing from the clothes she wore, which were too tight at the waist and rubbed. The worst were the injuries however. The girl’s back was covered in straight, pink welts, probably caused by a thin belt. She could see a few old scars too, where the skin had been broken and healed.

  Once undressed she stood the girl in the tub and picked up the lye soap, rubbing it over the flannel, then setting about scrubbing the grime from her skin. She took care to be gentle over the cuts and abrasions but Ella still hissed with pain on occasion.

  When her skin was clean, Damaris instructed her to sit in the tub. She ladled water over her hair, then lathered up the soap and massaged it into the hair. The soap was far too harsh on hair for normal use but considering the state these children were in, harsh was needed. She lathered and rinsed her hair twice, then set about picking the tangles out with a tortoiseshell comb. It was hard work as the hair was matted and the lye soap had stripped all the natural oils, but she persevered and did her best to be gentle.

  Since she wasn’t the first to use this tub of water, when Damaris was finally finished with her hair, she stood Ella up and gently tipped a pan of warm water from the stove over her. She wrapped the girl in a towel and dried her off, then applied some zinc and castor oil to her damaged skin, before taking her into the pantry to find clothes.

  Nothing that she had brought down fit well, all being too baggy but Ella was very thin at the moment and after a week or so of decent meals, would probably fill the clothes out well. And better that the clothes were too loose rather than too tight, so they wouldn’t chafe like her old clothes had.

  When finished, she took a moment to see what had been under all that dirt and grime, and found a cherubic looking girl. Her cheeks had a healthy red glow, probably from the warm bath, and her hair was actually a very light shade of brown, which would probably lighten further as it dried.

  “There,” she smiled at the girl. “All done.”

  The girl gave her a shy smile.

  “Ella,” she said the name softly, brushing her thumb over her ruby cheeks. “Now, go and get your bread and jam as a reward for being so good.”

  Damaris actually felt a pang of regret when the girl almost ran out to get her food. She knew that she shouldn’t be surprised, the girl was probably starving and anyway, she had told her to go. She had rather liked Ella’s dependence on her however.

  She made her way back to the kitchen and was surprised to see Lilly sitting at the table with the children. She must have been so engrossed with Ella that she hadn’t heard her arrival.

  “Thank you for coming,” Damaris smiled at her friend. “I have a large favour to ask of you.”

  “I guessed when Lord Copley’s driver told me what you were doing, so I packed for a few days.”

  “You really don’t mind?”

  “Not at all. It’s nice to see some of your old spark coming back.” She gave Damaris a big smile. “You and Lord Copley can get off home now, I’ll take care of everything here.”

  Damaris felt her eyes drawn to Ella and was surprised to find that she didn’t want to leave, at least, not without the girl.

  But she wasn’t Ella’s mother and she had no business getting attached to the child.

  “Yes, of course. Thank you, Lilly, and if you have any problems, just send word.” She left without glancing at Ella, before she could second-guess her decision.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Since the walls she had built around her heart appeared to be cracking, Nathaniel had watched Damaris with interest this afternoon, and he was disappointed when she simply turned and left.

  He bowed to the ladies in the room and followed her out of the house with a heavy heart. As he climbed into the carriage, he hoped to get her to open up.

  “Ella seems like a nice-”

  “Did you see the midwife?” she cut him off.

  “I’m sorry?” It felt like a lifetime ago since he had talked with Mrs Stephens and it took him a moment to remember what she was referring to.

  “The midwife? You went back to wait for her.”

  So they were getting straight back to business. He didn’t quite know what to expect when he found her so distraught in town but when the child, Ella, seemed to form an attachment to her, he had hoped that Damaris might show some interest in the girl, other than just her
general welfare.

  He sighed but he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Feeling too disappointed to press the issue however, he relayed the details of his encounter with the midwife to her.

  She in turn explained what she had learned from the court records and by the time she had finished, they were pulling up to Copley Hall.

  He helped her down from the carriage, then strode off into the house. He knew that he shouldn’t feel so saddened by her reaction but he had got his hopes up, and it would take him some time before he was ready to see her again.

  ***

  Isabelle wasn’t usually one to interfere in her childrens’ lives, unless asked. Her late husband had believed that while you should support children, you shouldn’t coddle them and she had done her best to support her offspring, while still letting them resolve their own problems.

  Seeing her son storm through the entry hall though, not even registering her presence, she knew that she had to find out what was going on, rather than waiting for Nate to ask her advice.

  She found him in his room, pacing its length, his necktie, coat and waistcoat discarded on the bed. He hadn’t replied to her knock, so she had entered anyway.

  “Nate?”

  He looked toward the door and seemed surprised to see her. Perhaps he hadn’t heard her knock.

  “What’s wrong?” she said, closing the door.

  “Do you really need to ask?” he said with a deep sigh. “That woman is beyond help.”

  Isabelle sat on the end of his bed, so she could watch him as he resumed pacing.

  “She is very troubled but not beyond help.”

  “Well, she is beyond my help, at least.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true,” she tried to reassure him.

  “Really?” He sounded accusing but she knew that he wasn’t angry with her, so she didn’t take offence. “Because it seems hopeless to me.”

  “I thought that the two of you were getting on well?”

  “We were, I think, I… Oh, I don’t know any more, Mother. All I do know is that she is the most infuriating woman I have ever met!”