Sprig of Thyme

Home > Other > Sprig of Thyme > Page 4
Sprig of Thyme Page 4

by Jenna Dawlish


  “Oh Joel, I thought you would never come. I am famished. You are so thoughtless and uncaring. I hate waiting for anyone.” Cynthia said, after Joel came into the room.

  He said nothing.

  “You might at least apologise.”

  “I took a sleeping draught, that is why I am later than usual, but I do not see why you do not take breakfast without me if you are hungry.” He was already helping himself to food.

  “You know how I hate to eat alone. You are not going to disappear all day are you?” she asked.

  He poured the coffee, “No. Not all day.”

  “Good, I get so bored here on my own and I know no one. It is such a shame that we cannot be introduced to more people. Are you sure there are none of our friends here in Bath?” She nibbled a piece of toast and then screwed up her face as though she were eating poison.

  “I am certain there are none. Once Frederick arrives, I am sure that will change. He always makes friends easily,” he said.

  Mrs Polwarth sighed, she was not fond of her husband's best friend, Frederick Garner. She knew that he had always despised her, something she found galling. She came from an honourable and respected family; the youngest of five children, her marriage to Joel was most agreeable and advantageous for both families in question, and her husband's fortune and position once his father was out of the way would elevate her to the height of the social sphere. If only her father-in-law would oblige her by dying.

  So, she must put up with Frederick again. Always visiting Joel, always with a chill look of disdain in his eye whenever he looked at her. She never rose to the bait, never let it show that he annoyed her. Though she secretly hated him almost as much as she hated her husband. No, she enjoyed talking to Frederick as often as possible because she knew he disliked it. She was sure that he was glad she was ill. Well, once she was better, she would show him. How exactly, she was not sure. She would watch for an opportunity and devise a plan.

  She was more than capable and willing to receive visitors. It irked her that Frederick was the one who would be making her friends. If she was well, she would have been out every day and made many new acquaintances.

  “What about Dr Preston? We know him. He can be counted amongst our acquaintances now.” Mr Polwarth said.

  “A doctor! Why, he is not someone to socialise with.” Then with a pause she looked at her husband, her eyes turning shrewish and said, “Why would you want to ask him? I think it very desperate. You are such a fool Joel. Why, you would be inviting that sister of his next. She would do well in the sitting room in her dirty worn clothes. We will have to put out a sheet for her to sit on! She is so ugly too. I believe I have never seen anyone so ugly in my life.”

  Cynthia studied her husbands face for a reaction. She noticed his jaw set hard.

  “Well, I wish to invite the doctor to tea. Whether you like it or not is no consequence to me. Keep your condescending views to yourself,” he replied in a sharp tone.

  Cynthia screwed her face up again; she could guess why he wanted to invite him, and it was not for his medical expertise. She knew how far she could push her husband when they argued but all in all, and after a moment's thought she realised a social visit by the doctor would be something to fill a morning and entertain her. But what depths she had sunk to. . .

  “Very well. Invite him if you must. But not the sister. I do not mind the doctor, he is pleasant enough. His hair is curly. I wonder why he does not straighten it. His face is a little round, but not unpleasant to look at. I suppose his conversation might be agreeable. At least when I speak of my complaints he listens without judgement.”

  “Cynthia,” he said, “I will invite whoever I like to tea, whether you approve or not. On this occasion, I wish to only invite Dr Preston and not his sister.”

  Mr Polwarth concentrated on eating his food and there was precious little conversation for the rest of breakfast, and afterwards he stood and said, “I will be in the study until lunch.”

  “Painting again I suppose?”

  “Yes. I find Bath very inspiring.”

  And he left the room.

  ***

  The day so far for Adella had been full of domestic work; cleaning, cooking, tidying. She did these long overdue tasks simply in order to keep her in the house. Only once did she briefly venture out to buy a few groceries. She did not expect to see him in the part of Bath she lived, for it wasn't one of the fashionable areas, but she still kept her eyes alerted to the possibility. She looked about suspiciously, expecting something untoward.

  Leonard came home several times that day, and on one occasion came into the kitchen and kissed her on the cheek.

  “What is that for?” she asked.

  He shrugged, “to show you how much I appreciate having you here.”

  Then, after dinner, as they sat once more relaxing, Leonard spoke.

  “Do you miss Mother and Father very much?”

  “Well, yes – I always miss them, I hope they can visit soon?”

  “I will write to them in the next few days and ask them. Would you like that?”

  “Why, yes, I would,” she smiled and the joy in her eyes returned a little. “I think they would like to come to Bath again. They often say they would like to in their letters.”

  They descended into silence for a time, until Adella spoke, “Shall I continue my story from yesterday?” she asked after a pause.

  Leonard nodded.

  Sidmouth, five years before.

  The next morning, the children were called for breakfast with their parents and Mr West. Adella ate with the other servants, she preferred their lively banter to a solitary breakfast alone in the schoolroom.

  She did not see Mr West again until lunch time. He was to teach Harry in the main study, away from Mary. But Mary reported to Adella what happened at breakfast when they were seated ready for their morning lesson.

  “Mother and Father asked Mr West all sorts of boring questions about himself and his family, and what he was going to teach Harry that I lost interest after a minute or so. I saw him smile only once and that he looked nervous. He ate toast and some bacon and a big bowl of porridge. I couldn't understand why he was so scared, it is only Mama and Papa! But you would have been very pleased with me: I ate all my food and didn't drop my knife and fork at all. I ate in small bites and chewed properly. Not that Mama noticed, she was too busy talking to Mr West,” she sighed.

  At lunch, they all ate together in the schoolroom with Mr West. This was to be a daily occurrence from then on, and Harry seemed a lot more settled. Half a day of lessons seemed to have made him happier. He looked brighter and sat chatting to everyone instead of sulking around complaining about everything.

  Mary took Adella's suggestion of trying to make friends with Mr West literally. Perhaps it was the prize of sweets she was thinking of. She kept asking him questions at lunch, much to Harry's amusement.

  “Mary,” Adella said, “a lady does not ask a gentleman so many questions so soon into their acquaintance. It is not becoming.”

  “But Mama asked Mr West lots of questions this morning.”

  “She is the Mistress of the house and Mr West is her employee. She had the right.”

  Mary frowned into her plate, and Mr West leaned over to her and whispered something into her ear. She giggled and with a broad smile continued her lunch, leaving Adella to wonder what he had said.

  In the evening once the children were asleep, Adella sat once more in front of the fire with her needlework in the deserted schoolroom. Mr West came in about seven o'clock and had some tea again. This time however, he was not so shy or reserved as the night before.

  “Harry seems to have enjoyed his lessons, he was a lot happier in himself today,” she ventured.

  “Yes, he was an eager student. I hope I did not disappoint him.”

  “I am sure you did not. Did he tire quickly?”

  “Yes. By about two o'clock it was clear he was having problems concentrating and his coug
h was growing worse. I sent him off for a rest and he did not argue.”

  His tone was easier and relaxed. Much better.

  They chatted for a while about the children until that subject was exhausted. Adella ventured to ask him a little about himself.

  “Where do you come from Mr West?”

  “Er - I come from Kent, although recently I have been living in Scotland.”

  “Oh? I have never been there. Is it nice?”

  “Yes, although I am afraid I only know Edinburgh. I studied at St Andrews University.”

  “What did you read?”

  “Literature and History.”

  “Not the most practical subjects for today's growing industry. Is that why you are a tutor?”

  “No, I chose this career, and there are plenty others I could have chosen.”

  “I am sorry, I did not mean to offend you,” though she obviously had. His face wore a frown.

  He did not speak for a while, and stared into his cup. Adella thought she should try and repair what was obviously broken.

  “My brother is in London studying Medicine. He is in his final year.”

  It had the desired effect. He looked up, a softened expression on his face. “Will he specialise in any area?”

  “I am not aware of any preference at the moment, we do not correspond much at this time, he is very busy with his exams, and I would not want to disrupt him.”

  “You are not close to him then?”

  “I don't see him often, but whenever I do, we never argue and are the best of friends. I admire him greatly. He is turning into a fine gentleman. But then, I suppose I am prejudiced towards him. But if you cannot have the support and admiration of your family, I do not know what would happen. Do you have any brothers?”

  “Yes, I have three.”

  “Three? Tell me, are you the eldest or youngest? Or somewhere in between?”

  “I am the eldest, James is eighteen, Henry is seventeen and Michael is fourteen.”

  “Four boys! Your mother must have been very busy. You do not have any sisters then?”

  “No, but I think my mother would have liked at least one of us to be a girl. My father on the other hand. . .” His voice drifted off and there was a distant look in his eye.

  He seemed to shake himself mentally and then stood up and stretched.

  Adella tried not to look at him, but her eyes seemed to always fall upon him whenever he was in the room, making her sewing both slow and painful; she kept pricking her fingers with the needle. They were silent for a long time. Adella continued sewing badly, Mr West paced the room.

  Finally, he sat down and had more tea. She glanced at him occasionally, and saw that he had a furrowed brow. She was not sure what to say to lift his gloom and was saved by him asking,

  “Do you ever go to Sidmouth? I would very much like to see it. To see the sea I mean.”

  Adella looked up, “Yes, I take the children at least twice a month. Before Harry was ill Mary and I would go every day. I would prefer to walk, but Harry is not strong enough, so we take the carriage. You are most welcome to come with us. We will next go on Monday.”

  He smiled, and the dark clouds lifted.

  He stayed that night nearly two hours in the end. Considering Adella thought she offended him at least once, he obviously did not bear grudges, because he left with a smile.

  They did all go to Sidmouth on Monday. They set off mid-morning with a picnic lunch. The carriage dropped them off at the sea front and they made their way straight to the promenade. When they caught their first glimpse of the sea, Mr West stopped and stared out.

  It was as though nothing else existed.

  After watching him and not wanting to interrupt his reverie she couldn't stop herself from speaking; “Is this the first time you have seen the sea Mr West?”

  He kept his gaze fixed on the sea and said, “No. But it has been many years since I last saw it, and I always loved it. It makes me feel like a child again.” He looked at her, “And please call me Joseph.”

  “I always think it is the smell of the seaweed and the salt that I like as well as seeing the water itself,” she said.

  “For me it is the expanse and the sound of the waves on the pebbles.”

  The children ran on ahead and left Joseph and Adella to walk behind. He stopped several times to look out again as they walked on, each time he appeared deep in thought.

  It was a clear day and the English Channel looked like a still pond rather than a dangerous sea that could thrash the cliffs and sink ships. They walked along the front then stopped to eat their lunch in the gardens overlooking the sea.

  “It is so beautiful here,” Joseph said.

  “Yes it is. And it gets more beautiful further along the coast. On one of my days off I walked as far along as Otterton. I do not think there are finer views or such varied landscape.”

  “I would very much like to see it. I enjoy walking. Would you show me the way sometime if it would not be too much trouble?”

  “Of course. I had no plans to take that route again so soon, but I would be glad to show you. You enjoy being outside I think,” she commented.

  “Yes, I do, very much.”

  “Have you walked the grounds at Brayfern?” she asked.

  “Yes, every evening I go out after supper. I don't like to be inside for too long.”

  Adella smiled at herself. She was starting to bring him out of himself, and the more she saw of him, the more she liked. His eyes were the clearest blue she had ever seen.

  Later on, Harry and Mary played near the water, Mary looking for crabs and Harry trying to scare them away. But by late afternoon, Harry began to tire, and Adella knew they must make their way home.

  Before they left, Adella had an errand to run for Cook at the fishmongers. It took a lot longer than anticipated, so that by the time she was finished, everyone was in the carriage awaiting her return.

  “Sorry I took so long,” she said climbing in. “Cook had extremely specific instructions, and I had to follow them to the letter. Besides, she said she would show me how to cook Devilled Oysters in my next lesson, and I don't want her to change her mind!”

  “You have lessons with the Cook?” Joseph asked, with a small smile.

  “Yes. What of it?”

  A grin appeared on his face and he was obviously trying not to laugh.

  “Why do you find it amusing?” Adella crossed her arms.

  “I am sorry, I do not see you as someone who would cook. I cannot picture it.”

  “Well I have cooked a great many times for my mother and father, every day in fact from the age of twelve. We are not rich enough to have staff. Who cooks in your family for four boys and your mother and father?”

  He stuttered a little, paused and said, “My mother.”

  “Well then, now I can see why she wanted a daughter; to help her with the cooking!”

  He said nothing and looked out of the window, his smile gone.

  On the way home they were a cheerful party, except for Joseph who remained quiet, although not altogether out of spirits. They laughed and made jokes about the characters they had seen; The old gentleman who nearly tripped over himself when Harry stuck out his tongue at him, the old lady who thought Mary adorable but believed her to be a boy. Surely she had seen that Mary was wearing a dress?

  Mary was ecstatic when they nearly reached home, when Adella pulled out a crab purchased from Mr Davis' shop. It was bought with the express reason for her to claim that she had caught it. It was one of the largest any of them had seen and they wondered how long they could convince everyone.

  ***

  That evening Joseph and Adella sat together again in the schoolroom after his walk. He apologised for his comments about her cooking lessons, and she quickly forgave him. It was fast becoming a habit for them, sitting together, although Joseph would stay for different amounts of time. One night he took his tea straight to his room and Adella did not see him again. But that night
, he seemed in high spirits and there was a sparkle in his eyes. He stayed the longest time yet, and it was only when Adella yawned several times and professed a wish for sleep that they parted.

  She walked to her room, and closed the door. Her head was full of him. Over the last few weeks he had become a welcome companion. She had not realised how lonely she was before he arrived. Mary was adorable, but sometimes she craved adult companionship. And his was captivating, almost compulsive. She was sorry he would only be working there for six months. But at least those months would be brighter. She wondered whether he felt the same about being with her.

  Chapter 4

  Bath 1840

  “Did you love him by that time?” Leonard asked.

  His question took Adella by surprise, “I had not thought about when I started to love him before, it all happened so naturally. You know, I think I did. I fell in love with him very quickly.” Adella paused, “I cherished every evening that we spent together, it was like a reward for a hard day's work. I wish I could say the same for him. He certainly gave the impression that he enjoyed my company. I thought he felt the same. But knowing what I know now, it was all a lie.”

  Her voice drifted off and she pushed back tears. She would not cry. She was determined. Leonard moved himself next to her, and put his arm around her shoulder.

  “I am sorry. I cannot believe what a fool I was,” she said.

  'Shh, Adella. You are no fool. You are not. I should not have let you continue your story tonight. This has affected you more than I realised. He seems like a complete scoundrel; changing his name like that and pretending to be a tutor. You will tell me everything won't you, Adella?” He looked into her tear-glistened eyes.

 

‹ Prev