by Mary Wood
‘They can heal. Try to soak them every evening. When they let you wash, spend more time on your hands. Massage them.’
A small smile twisted her lips. It was a cross between amusement and a sob. Frederick’s love for her tore at his heart.
‘Ruth, I will help you. I will get you an education, and even a music teacher. I am sorry – desperately sorry – that everything you have been through was caused by your encounter with my family. I am grateful to you for saving my mother. If it had only been that, I wouldn’t have had any problem in securing your freedom, but the jailer you attacked – he wanted you in prison.’
‘I knaw. I’ll be reet. Especially now as I knaw I can have me piano and learn some notes. Thinking of that will get me through. Will you do as you say, and get me and Nora a cottage?’
‘I will.’
Her eyes lifted. Nothing had diminished the beauty of the blue depths of them, and in them he read a return of his feelings. ‘Ruth, I—’
‘Naw, you can’t say it. You can’t. I knaw it and so do you, but it cannot be. Take me love back to Amy and Nora. Tell Amy I can’t wait to hug her. I wish . . .’ A sob overcame her.
‘Don’t wish for what you can’t possibly have. Remember what it was like when you did have the things you so want, and take comfort from that.’
‘Aye, it’s the only way. I knaws that. Help me up, I’ve to go. You’ve given me sommat to hang on to. And that’ll keep me going.’
Touching her enflamed every part of Frederick, increasing the beating of his own heart and tingling sensations through him that he could hardly cope with. But these turned to horror as he steadied her and saw what he hadn’t noticed at first: bruises purpling areas of her arms, gashes – some old and others still bleeding – and then, as he helped her to rise, he caught sight of her feet. Her club foot swelled over the huge boot she had on it. Blisters full of pus stood out on her ankles; some looked at bursting point, and the red-raw weals that traced a path along the sole of her foot looked infected. The agony of seeing her like this cut him in two and caused an anger to rise in him that he couldn’t deny. ‘Warden!’
The woman who had brought Ruth to him jumped back into his view. ‘M’Lord?’
Ruth’s whispered ‘Naw!’ seared through him, but did not stop him. Nothing could. ‘I want Miss Dovecote to be taken to the infirmary at once.’
‘Naw. I’ll be reet. I will.’
‘At once, I said. And if any of you try to punish her for this, you will be sorry. Just look at the state of her leg. She is verging on blood poisoning. If she dies, you will all pay: you will go to the gallows for murder. This is sheer neglect, and goes against the Prison Act. Arrange it – and arrange it now!’
M’Lord, naw – you don’t knaw . . . Don’t.’
‘I do. Well, I can guess. Don’t worry, I will protect you.’
The noise the warden made told him she didn’t think so, and for the first time Frederick regretted his outburst. But not for long. He had influence that he could bring to bear. He had already made his maiden speech in the House of Lords, indicating that he intended to be a reformer of the conditions the poor had to endure. He would go up to the House and speak on what he had seen going on here. Something must be done! In the meantime, if he could make enough fuss, the newspapers would carry the story.
‘Madam, I warn you. You, as well as the conditions here and the way you treat the prisoners, will be in all the newspapers by the morrow! So tread carefully, or you may find you are on the receiving end of a heartless person like yourself!’
With this the woman huffed, but her manner changed. ‘We are not heartless, M’Lord. We work with what we have and try to maintain order. It is easy to swan in here and make judgements. Dovecote’s leg will be seen to, I can assure you, though also be assured that all the inmates see a doctor once a month and, as his visit is in ten days, the condition would have been picked up then.’
‘Ten days! She would have been dead by then. See to it, and make sure a bath chair is sent to transport Miss Dovecote to the infirmary ward. I will personally supervise the move, so don’t try and do anything different. I can assure you, Madam, this will be spoken of in the House of Lords this very week.’
There was no retort to this. The woman retreated in haste, and only Ruth’s wretched sobs broke the uncanny silence. Frederick hadn’t previously thought silence could ever prevail here, as there had been a constant background noise of prisoners calling out and crying in pain and despair, and of wardens shouting orders, not to mention the banging and clanging of the gated doors.
‘Ruth, my love.’ Oh God, he hadn’t meant to say those words. She lifted her head. Hope shone through her tears.
‘M’Lord?’
‘You know how I feel about you. You do. I cannot help it, but I had no right to express it. I’m sorry. Oh, it’s hopeless. Look, Ruth, I have this love for you that is eating at me, and yet I can offer you nothing more than my help.’
‘It’s enough to know how you feel. I’ve allus known it. And it’s like you say: it can’t be helped. We didn’t invite it. I loved Josh, thou knows. It were different, but I loved him and I was his wife in all but the marriage service, but—’
His gasp stopped her. He couldn’t do anything other than show his shock, as the pain of her words was excruciating to him and caught him off-guard. ‘You, and Josh?’ God, why didn’t Haydon Green tell me this?
‘I’m not ashamed of what I did, and I would have stayed loyal to Josh. We had no other way. We wanted to be wed, but . . . Anyroad, Josh was a good man and loved me very much.’
‘No, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I understand. I . . .’ He wanted to say it hurt like hell, but he couldn’t. He just had to find a way of accepting that she had been taken – no, had willingly gone to another. But accepting it and living with the knowledge were two different things. And something in him roused a thought. Maybe? ‘Ruth, I – I could make you happy in the same way. I mean, we couldn’t be married either, but—’
‘Naw! I wasn’t Josh’s mistress. I will be naw mistress! He was me husband, and I his wife. It was done the only way we could do it, by taking our vows to each other, though none of it mattered in the end. They found me, despite us taking every precaution.’
‘I didn’t mean to insult you, Ruth, or your union with Josh. I just . . . well, I need you. I need you so badly.’
Her crying increased, and now he knew it to hold desolation. It told him that she felt the same way about him, but that she was a better person than him. When she could, Ruth held on to her principles. Her life with Josh must have seemed as though it was always going to be that way, and this had driven her to accept a compromise. His shame at offering what he had crippled Frederick. Sitting down, he took her hand. ‘Forgive me, Ruth. I will never mention it again, I promise. But know that I will always love you and be here for you.’
Her head nodded; her eyes held his. In them he read all he needed to know, even though she did not utter another word.
22
Katrina & Marcia
Treachery Rewarded
‘My Lord Bellinger – what are you doing here?’ The skipping of every other beat of Katrina’s heart didn’t help her confusion, as the butler announced Simon’s arrival.
Lord Bellinger’s head bobbed from her to her mother-in-law and then to Marcia. Marcia looked as surprised as Katrina felt, at this unexpected visit. After a moment’s hesitation and, to Katrina’s embarrassment, a quizzical look in Lady Eleonore’s direction, Marcia stepped forward. ‘My Lord Bellinger, how nice to see you again.’ As Simon kissed her hand, she said, ‘Though I must confess the moment you have chosen to visit is inopportune, as the dowager and I are just about to depart for Ripon. We have several appointments, all of which entail me spending money on myself. I’m in need of a new wardrobe to take me to all the engagements that my sister’s elevated position in life has opened up for me.’
‘Oh? Oh, well, I am sorry. I thought I was—’
/> ‘Of course you are welcome. You are always welcome, Lord Bellinger.’
Katrina could only watch as Simon took the hand proffered by her mother-in-law, the dowager. His bending over and touching his lips to it was accompanied by a sly glance towards herself. His look held puzzlement.
‘Have you planned for Lord Bellinger to stay for dinner and be an overnight guest, Katrina?’
Feeling like a cornered animal, with propriety forbidding her from saying that she hadn’t invited him, when it seemed obvious that he considered himself invited, Katrina nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘And is this a social visit, Lord Bellinger, or are you on business?’ the dowager asked, before answering herself, ‘But of course you cannot be here on business, as Lord Frederick isn’t here.’
‘It is business, Lady Eleonore, but I understand of a secret nature that concerns a surprise for Lord Frederick, which it seems neither of you two ladies are party to, either. So you will have to wait and see. Maybe Lady Katrina will reveal all at dinner – I presume you will both be in attendance then?’
‘Of course. How exciting, Lady Katrina, and fancy you not sharing any of this with me! I am your sister, after all, though I think you forget that sometimes.’
The ringing of a bell startled Katrina, and Marcia, it seemed, as she swung round and instantly received a look from the dowager that Katrina couldn’t interpret. If she didn’t think it preposterous and very unlikely, she’d have said the two were in cahoots! But that was impossible. Oh, what is going on? How do I react?
The butler attending, and her mother-in-law ordering that the carriage be made ready at once, took away the immediate need to do anything, but that changed as the dowager also ordered the butler to assign a man to Lord Bellinger, to take him to his quarters and attend to his needs.
‘No, I don’t want you to see to that last instruction, Crowther.’ There was a moment’s awkwardness as the butler looked from Katrina to her mother-in-law. The moment had come for the dowager to relinquish the reins of running Beckstone Abbey in favour of Katrina.
‘I – I beg your pardon, Lady Katrina, you must forgive me. Habit of almost a lifetime. My order for the carriage still stands, Crowther. Please see to it at once.’
There was another strained moment as the butler left. Everyone looked at Katrina, waiting for the next episode in this drama that she had no idea how to handle, but meant to try. ‘Lady Eleonore, will you accompany me to my office?’
The dowager looked shocked. ‘Really, Lady Katrina, we cannot both leave our guest.’
‘Marcia, please see to getting a drink for Lord Bellinger and amuse him for a moment. I am sure you can do that for me.’ Keeping her back straight, Katrina walked towards the door.
As soon as she had arrived at Beckstone Abbey, Katrina had taken a small room just off the hallway that had always been Lady Eleonore’s office and had designated it as her own. It was only just big enough to house a desk and some shelving, although she intended to have the wall between it and another small room removed, so that she could have a comfortable chair installed. The other room had a large window that would provide light and a view of the garden – another project she intended to get to work on, but not until after returning from France. There were so many rooms in this house that it had been an easy matter to allow her mother-in-law to choose one, and to have it done up as her own private sitting room in any way she chose. It had been a relief to her when the dowager had chosen some of the pieces of furniture that Katrina herself hadn’t liked.
Throughout these changes she and Lady Eleonore had remained on the good terms they had enjoyed during her growing up, but of late there had been a change of attitude. It was almost as if Lady Eleonore was on her guard.
On entering the office, the dowager expressed her concern. ‘What is going on, Katrina? You cannot invite someone of Lord Bellinger’s standing and then not offer him our hospitality. If he is offended, it could go very badly for you. He has already tried to smear your character once. Please don’t give him the opportunity to do so again.’
‘I didn’t invite him – he is lying. I know nothing of a surprise for Frederick. I am afraid of him, Lady Eleonore, and I don’t want to be left alone with him.’
‘Oh dear. Why has he come? I don’t like him, or that Parvoil. They do things to further their own cause. The thing is: what is his cause today? I will cancel my trip . . . Oh, but that won’t do. He will suspect something, and that could be even worse. Look, my dear, I am not used to the goings-on that have occurred since you and your sister arrived here. I had to talk to Marcia after I heard you both arguing, and she intimated that you had things to hide.’
Katrina’s throat dried. It was as if there was a conspiracy against her. Guilt reddened her cheeks. Her world – the one her mother and father had created for her and for themselves – looked as though it was about to crash. The shame would be immense. No, it could not happen.
‘I have nothing to hide, Lady Eleonore. My sister is being silly. She is jealous of me and it seems she set out to discredit me, as indeed Lord Bellinger has tried to do. I don’t know how I will fare against them. I know Marcia’s motives, but not Lord—’
‘I think you do, Katrina. Is he in love with you?’
There was nothing for it. ‘Yes, I believe so, but I haven’t given him any encouragement. I—’
‘Never mind that now. Love is an emotion that none of us can deny. We have to find a way of living with it, if it is thwarted. That is your task, Katrina. You have to somehow manage this latest trick of your thwarted love. We all have to save face. I suggest that you arrange some activity for Lord Bellinger this afternoon that doesn’t involve yourself. Then we will be with you at dinner. Once that is done, I will stay with you until such an hour as we can all retire. How we handle this with Frederick, I do not know, but something will occur to us before he is home. Maybe we can arrange a surprise that would have needed Lord Bellinger’s help, as that is the reason he seems to have conjured up for being here? I will give it some thought. I am used to men like him. You must school yourself in their ways, and learn to deal with them in any way that does not cause scandal. You have done well so far, my dear. Now you must cover up our disappearance, and taking me to task on his arrival, and we must do so in a very clever way.’
Life as a dowager wasn’t easy. Lady Eleonore still felt responsible for her family – what little there was left of it, that was. She swallowed hard. No time to think sad thoughts. Life goes on. But what life? It felt as if she’d been put out to grass: not allowed to take any decisions, only give advice.
Feeling the sigh that she released coming from deep within her, she reflected on how difficult it was proving to settle into her new role. She had thought she knew these Arkwright girls, having seen them grow up – having helped, even, in the direction they should be schooled and made ready for what had always been Veronica’s ambition: getting them their rightful place in society. Poor Veronica – a life-time of being shunned because her father couldn’t keep hold of the family money. Disgraceful!
Now it seemed that breeding had more to do with the way people handled themselves and the situations they found themselves in, as the girls were proving troublesome and Eleonore lived in fear, after just a short time of coping with them, that they would bring her family into disrepute. Oh, for the days of simplicity when a commoner here, and in her beloved France, was kept firmly in his place. A marriage such as Veronica was forced to make, and now her own son had taken on, was unheard of before the revolutions. No good would come of it.
At least Katrina had spirit, and by the looks of things, she would need it. If only she was more like Marcia – a sweet child. A little minx, but harmless. Katrina was getting in too deep. It wouldn’t surprise Eleonore to find out that she had invited Lord Bellinger today, but that he’d arrived earlier than she planned. She would need watching. Whether to warn Frederick? That was the question. Maybe not. Better that she worked on Katrina and brought her into line
.
On entering the withdrawing room, she had to admire Katrina and wondered for a moment if she was wrong, as Marcia was looking as if she’d won a victory of some sort and was enjoying her sister’s plight. It was good to see Katrina handle it so well.
‘My Lord Bellinger, forgive our leaving you just as you arrived. I had important matters to discuss with Lady Eleonore before she left for the town. It was all to do with the surprise I am planning for Lord Frederick. You coming earlier than I had planned did not leave me time enough. Well, now that the person who should have known the details first – Lady Eleonore – is informed, I can reveal everything and then perhaps you can start to help me make it a reality?’
‘Of course, Lady Katrina. I do beg your pardon. I should have let you know my travel arrangements in advance, but I had little time after receiving your telegram. What can I do for you?’
This shocked Eleonore and she saw, from Katrina’s expression, that it had taken the wind out of her sails, too. What is going on? Telegram? Did Marcia say? Katrina interrupted her thoughts, but not before Eleonore had caught Marcia looking very sheepish. Surely not. Had she got everything wrong? There was no time to ponder this, for Katrina rose in her estimation as she regained control in an instant.
‘I want to buy Frederick a wedding gift – a racehorse – and have no idea how to go about it. I heard there was a horse fair locally tomorrow, and I need help with what I should do and what kind of horse is best, and even how to bid! I believe prospective buyers are going this afternoon. I know that you own racehorses, very successful ones. And Lord Frederick has a groom who could take you to the event. It would be such a wonderful present for Lord Frederick. Please say you will do it!’
Well! Fait accompli, as they say in my country. Well done, Katrina!
‘How wonderful. What a splendid idea, Katrina, and one well worth keeping a secret, my dear. My son will be delighted. Thank you so much, Lord Bellinger.’