The Beggar Maid

by Dilly Court

  He rose to his feet, shaking first one leg and then the other. ‘I’m a bit stiff these days,’ he said by way of explanation. ‘Rheumatics caused by the damp.’ He continued his strange dance until he seemed satisfied that he could move without too much difficulty. ‘Now then, miss. If you’ve finished your tea, I’ll show you back to the library. I’ll come and fetch you when it’s time for dinner. We eat earlier than Sir Hedley.’

  ‘A young lady who is good with books ought to eat in the dining room,’ Mrs Trevett said, refilling her cup with tea. ‘Would you like another, my dear? I’m sure Parkin will give you a minute or two.’

  Charity stood up. ‘No, thank you, Mrs Trevett. That was just what I needed, but I’d better get back to work. I’ll see you at dinner.’

  That night, in a small attic bedroom with Mrs Trevett’s snores penetrating the wall that separated them, Charity fell asleep despite the storm that lashed the house with rain and gales that threatened to rip the tiles off the roof. She dreamed she was in a sailing ship that was being tossed about on mountainous waves. She clung to the rails, too terrified to go below, and the vessel lurched, prancing like a Lipizzaner stallion as they were flung against a huge rock. Drenched and terrified, Charity looked up and saw the marble mermaid come alive. Her long tresses billowed about her white face and her cold lips curved in a smile. She beckoned to Charity, luring her ever nearer. Then a wave crashed over her and she awakened to find rainwater pouring through a gap in the ceiling directly above her head.

  She tumbled out of bed, landing in a heap on the bare floorboards. A flash of lightning was followed almost immediately by a crash of thunder and the door to her small room burst open. In the guttering light of a candle she saw the outline of a male figure. She opened her mouth to scream.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘CHARITY?’ HARRY KNELT down beside her. ‘You’re the last person I expected to see here. Are you all right?’

  The scream had frozen in her throat and she could only nod her head. The nightmare still held her in its eerie clutches, and the shock of seeing Harry had temporarily rendered her speechless. He helped her to her feet. ‘You’re soaked to the skin. I don’t know who put you in this room but they should have known better.’ He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her.

  The warmth of his body still clung to its folds and the familiar scent of him reminded her of her birthday when he and Wilmot had taken her out to dinner and the theatre. ‘You’re always giving me your jacket,’ she murmured. ‘But I’ll make it wet.’

  ‘Let me worry about that. Let’s get you somewhere warm and dry and you can tell me how you came to be here.’

  She did not argue as he led her down the back stairs to the kitchen. He pulled a chair close to the range and made her sit down while he raked the embers into life. ‘I know where Mrs Trevett keeps the cocoa,’ he said, grinning. ‘A cup of something hot will soon warm you up.’

  Huddled in his jacket with the warmth seeping into her chilled bones, she had the feeling that she was still in the middle of a dream. ‘I thought you’d gone abroad.’

  ‘I did, and I spent some time in France, but I returned a week ago and went to visit my mother in Devon.’ He took a jug of milk from the larder and poured some into a saucepan, placing it on the hob.

  ‘Then why all the secrecy? Why didn’t you tell anyone that you’d come home? Or are you still hiding from your creditors?’

  ‘I went to Paris to try to recoup some of my losses, but I should have known better. I lost more than I won.’

  She shook her head. ‘You aren’t a stupid man, so why do you continue to gamble when you know very well you’ll lose in the end?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said humbly. ‘I suppose I live in hope.’ He made the cocoa and placed a brimming cup on the table in front of her.

  ‘I’m sorry, but you ought to know better, and it’s very selfish behaviour. You’ve left your family to pick up the pieces.’

  ‘They’re better off without me. Anyway, I’m leaving first thing in the morning. I only stopped by to collect some of my clothes, and then I’ll be off again. I might not return for some time.’

  Her anger evaporated as she sensed his distress even though he was attempting to disguise his emotions behind an outward show of bravado. ‘I don’t understand why you don’t get on with your father. He’s a difficult man, but he was kind enough to allow us to stay in his house.’

  ‘You’re the first person to call him kind,’ he said, chuckling. ‘Maybe we’re too alike to get on together.’ His smile faded. ‘Are you feeling better now? You’re still very pale.’

  ‘I’m almost dry and I’m nice and warm.’

  ‘What on earth were you doing sleeping up in the servants’ quarters in the first place? I don’t understand why Mrs Trevett didn’t put you in one of the guest rooms?’

  ‘I am a servant, Harry. I work for your father in return for my board and lodging, as do Violet and Dorrie.’

  ‘I didn’t think he’d use you as slave labour. I don’t suppose the old devil has paid you a wage.’

  ‘He hasn’t paid any of the servants for a long time. They stay out of loyalty and because they can’t afford to leave.’

  He met her angry gaze with a rueful smile. ‘I suppose you think it’s my fault.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, looking him in the eyes. ‘I do. I don’t think that running away solves anything.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be much use if I were locked up in jail.’

  ‘Then why don’t you get a job and earn some money? That’s what other people do.’

  ‘There’s very little I could do.’ He held out his hands, palms upwards. ‘I was born a gentleman, not a navvy.’

  ‘That’s no excuse. Your father is desperate to raise funds. He asked me to go through his library and select the books that would raise the most money.’

  ‘He must be in trouble if he’s willing to part with even one of his precious collection.’

  She hesitated for a moment, unsure as to whether or not to tell him the real reason for his father’s sudden decision. She took a deep breath. ‘Sir Hedley is in a panic because he thinks that you want to have him declared incompetent and that he’ll be locked away in a lunatic asylum.’

  Harry’s dark eyebrows snapped together in a frown. ‘That’s simply not true. I’ve never done anything to hurt the old man. He’s not the best parent in the world, but he’s still my father and I can hardly blame him for mishandling the family fortunes when I’m just as bad.’

  ‘Then who’s spreading these lies? Why would anyone want to discredit you or Sir Hedley?’

  ‘I’m sure he has a theory of his own. Hasn’t he told you anything about our family?’

  ‘He told me a little about your mother.’

  ‘When I visited my mother in Devonshire I learned that my stepfather had been killed in a hunting accident two months ago, and that she had handed the running of the estate to Wilmot. Dan protested, of course, thinking that he was Sir Philip’s son and heir, but he’s under age and there’s nothing he can do about it until he reaches his majority.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘My mother told me the whole sordid story. For years she’s been living a lie and at last she’s admitted the truth.’

  ‘I can tell by your expression that it must have been something upsetting.’

  ‘This is strictly between us, Charity. I want you to promise not to tell anyone.’

  ‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’

  ‘Mother left us when I was just three. She persuaded my father to grant her a divorce so that she could marry Sir Philip, but what she didn’t tell Sir Philip was that she was already expecting a child.’

  ‘Are you saying that Sir Hedley is Dan’s father?’

  ‘That’s exactly it. My mother was in quite a state when she told me about the deception. I urged her to tell Father the truth, but she refused. She said that Sir Philip had always thought that Dan was his son and she saw n
o reason to tell the world that she had deceived him.’

  ‘Daniel should know. It doesn’t seem right to keep it from him.’

  ‘I’ll tell my brother when I think the time is right, but I suspect that Wilmot is manipulating both my mother and Dan for his own ends.’

  ‘What could he hope to gain?’

  ‘If Father were declared incompetent, and if I were in exile, Dan would be next in line to inherit this estate, as well the house in Nevill’s Court.’

  Charity shivered even though they were bathed in the warm glow of the fire. ‘Do you think this has something to do with the stories of the Bligh treasure?’

  ‘I think Wilmot is a greedy and ambitious man. If he married my mother he would gain control of his late brother’s estate, and as Dan’s stepfather he would have a say when it came to making decisions about Bligh Park until Dan comes of age.’

  Charity’s head was spinning with this tale of ambition and avarice. ‘But surely it’s illegal for Wilmot to marry his brother’s widow?’ she said, grasping at the one flaw she could see in the whole sorry business.

  ‘I think it is illegal, but I know that many people ignore the law. They get married in Scotland or London and live together as man and wife. I just hope that Wilmot has genuine feelings for my mother.’

  ‘You know he is here, digging up the ten-acre field.’

  ‘Parkin told me what’s been going on, but I don’t think the excavation of Roman ruins is going to save Bligh Park from bankruptcy. Wilmot has his eye on something more and I need to warn Dan not to be taken in by him.’

  ‘Then you ought to stay here. Clear your name and don’t run away, leaving your father and brother unprotected.’

  ‘I can’t prove anything, Charity. It’s my word against Wilmot’s, and who would believe a man who can’t honour his debts?’

  ‘Tell Sir Hedley. Tell him everything and maybe together you can put a stop to Wilmot’s game.’

  ‘You know my father well enough to realise that he wouldn’t listen to anything I had to say. If I stay I’ll be caught and arrested, but as a free man I might have a chance to put things right.’

  ‘Where will you go?’

  ‘Ned Loveless is going to take me across the Channel. It’s better if you don’t know where I’m going.’

  ‘How will you live?’

  ‘I’ll do what you said I should do and try to find work. Maybe I’ll turn into an honest citizen if I keep away from temptation.’

  She seized him by the hand. ‘You are a good man; you’ve just taken the wrong path. I wish I could help you as you helped me.’

  His eyes darkened and he dropped his gaze. ‘You make me feel even more ashamed of myself. I’ve done exactly as I pleased all my life with no thought for the consequences or the fact that I was frittering away a fortune. You had nothing but you’ve struggled on, and I admire you for that.’

  ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself, Harry.’ She raised his hand to her cheek. ‘Thanks to you I still have my books, but when I return to London I’ll sell them. Any money I raise I’ll send to you.’

  ‘That is the most generous offer I’ve ever had, but I couldn’t let you do it.’ He rose to his feet. ‘You must put yourself first for once. Never mind me. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself in my own ramshackle way.’

  She shrugged off his jacket and handed it to him. ‘You will write to me when you’re settled, won’t you?’ She was close to tears, but somehow she managed to control her emotions.

  ‘It’s almost dawn and I need to see my brother before I go. I think you’re right and I should tell him the truth before I go away.’ He leaned over and brushed her forehead with a kiss. ‘I will write to you and that’s a promise. Look after yourself.’ He snatched his coat and hat from a nearby chair and picked up a carpet bag. ‘Goodbye, Charity.’ He let himself out into the darkness.

  She leapt to her feet and ran to the window. The storm had abated and there was a pale glimmer of light in the east. Harry was shrugging on his coat as he walked off in the direction of the archaeological excavation, and then he was swallowed up in the darkness. The only sign that he had been in the house was the chair where he had been sitting, only now it was tilted on its back legs, leaning against the pine table. She righted it with a sigh. Harry had come into her life briefly, but his presence had had a profound effect on her and now he was gone. If his suspicions about Wilmot were well founded and Sir Hedley was locked away in Colney Hatch, she might find herself homeless yet again.

  She went to her room and found to her relief that her clothes were dry, even though the bed was soaked. She dressed quickly, and acting on impulse she decided to seek out Daniel and tell him the truth about Wilmot. Harry might not be able to convince his brother that Wilmot was not an honourable man, but if she told Daniel how he had propositioned her he might think differently.

  ‘You’re wrong,’ Daniel said in a low voice. He glanced over his shoulder at Wilmot who was standing several yards away deep in conversation with one of the archaeologists. ‘You shouldn’t have listened to Harry. What he said about Wilmot is nonsense. He’s resigned his position at the university in order to help my mother run the estate, and he’s a good man who has my best interests at heart, even though he knows the truth about my birth.’

  She stared at him in amazement. ‘So you knew that Sir Philip wasn’t your father?’

  ‘Mama told me soon after the funeral.’ Daniel ran his hand through his already tousled hair. ‘As to Wilmot, you shouldn’t believe everything Harry says. My brother lives by his wits and he’s desperate to get someone on his side. Not that you could do anything to help him, unless, of course, you have some influence with our father.’

  ‘I don’t think he was making it up, Dan. He genuinely believes that Wilmot is plotting to gain control of the estate.’

  ‘Mama is fond of Wilmot, but she loved Sir Philip, and so did I. He might not have sired me, but he raised me as his son. He was my real father, and I trust Wilmot.’

  ‘Sir Philip sounds like a marvellous man.’ She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘But there are things about Wilmot you don’t know.’

  ‘How can you say that, Charity? How can you turn against him when he offered to further your education and enrol you in his classes at the university? You could have worked hard and bettered yourself, but you chose to throw his generosity back in his face.’

  ‘That’s not how it happened. If that’s what he told you then he’s lying. He wanted me to be his mistress.’

  Daniel stared at her in patent disbelief. ‘I don’t believe that for a moment. You’ve been taken in by Harry’s lies and now you’re adding to them. Wilmot is my friend and mentor. He loves my mother and he only wants the best for me. I don’t want anything to do with Sir Hedley, or Harry if it comes to that. I never want to see either of them again.’ He stalked off to join Wilmot.

  Charity resisted the temptation to run after him. She knew she had handled the situation badly but she was at a loss to know what to do for the best. She was about to return to the house when she saw Sir Hedley striding across the field towards them. She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if she ought to warn Dan, but it was too late. Sir Hedley’s shabby overcoat flapped about him as he quickened his pace, and he looked like an ungainly scarecrow that had suddenly acquired the ability to walk. ‘Wilmot Barton, is that you?’

  Wilmot turned his head slowly. ‘What can I do for you, Hedley?’

  ‘What are you doing on my land?’ Sir Hedley advanced on them, puffing and panting.

  Charity hurried towards him, alarmed by his high colour and laboured breathing. ‘We should get you back to the house, sir.’

  He pushed her aside. ‘Mind your own business, girl.’ He pointed a shaking finger at Daniel. ‘Who gave you permission to work with the archaeologists? I sanctioned a dig run by the university and that didn’t include you or your uncle.’

  White-faced and visibly upset, Daniel stepped forward shaking off Wi
lmot’s restraining hand. ‘He’s not my uncle, Father.’ He stressed the last word, bringing Sir Hedley to a sudden halt.

  ‘Are you being funny, boy?’

  ‘No, sir. I think it’s time someone told you the truth.’

  ‘This isn’t the time or place, Dan,’ Wilmot hissed.

  Ignoring Wilmot, Dan faced up to his father. ‘Mother told me the truth after Sir Philip died. I am your son. It pains me to admit such a thing but I have as much right to be on this land as anyone.’

  ‘You’re a liar.’ Sir Hedley clutched his hand to his chest. ‘Your mother left me for Philip Barton. You’re not my son.’

  ‘I wish it were a lie. No one in their right mind would want a man like you to be their father.’

  Charity leapt forward to clutch Daniel’s arm. ‘Please don’t say any more. Can’t you see this is upsetting him?’

  ‘Keep out of this.’ He pushed her away and she fell against Sir Hedley, who staggered, lost his footing and crumpled to the ground.

  She went down on her knees beside him. ‘I’m so sorry. Are you all right?’ She attempted to raise his head, but his eyes bulged in their sockets and he gasped for breath. She sent a pleading look to Daniel. ‘Get help.’

  He shook his head. ‘He’s play-acting. There’s nothing wrong with him.’

  ‘Not this time, Dan.’ Wilmot dragged Charity to her feet. ‘He’s finished. You can’t do anything for him. Go back to the house.’

  ‘No. I won’t leave him,’ Charity said on a sob. ‘I’ve seen men die on the streets and he doesn’t deserve to end his life in a muddy field.’

  Wilmot beckoned to two of the diggers who had been looking on with interest. ‘Don’t just stand there – carry him to the house.’

  ‘He needs a doctor,’ Charity said urgently. ‘Please, Dan. Go to the village and find a physician.’

  ‘Why should I? He’s nothing to me.’

  ‘He’s your father,’ Charity whispered. ‘You were cruel to him and that’s not like you. I know you better than that.’

  Wilmot stood aside while the men lifted Sir Hedley’s now inert form. ‘I think it’s too late for a doctor,’ he said with a malicious grin. ‘Perhaps an undertaker would be more appropriate.’