Her Mother's Daughter

by Evie Grace

  It was her father who did not seem well during their journey in the carriage. He looked weary, Agnes thought.

  ‘Well, did you order plenty of new dresses?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, Papa,’ she said rather curtly. She wasn’t sure she could forgive him for his deception.

  ‘And Nanny showed you the market?’

  She nodded. ‘We enjoyed our luncheon at the hotel.’

  ‘I thought you would. It is good hearty fare. I had hoped to meet you there, but I had business to attend to. One of the men was mixing hot water and grist in the mash tun – I don’t know how he managed it, but the water got into his boots.’ Papa grimaced. ‘I have never heard a man scream like that. I sent him home on one of the drays, and called for the doctor. I hope that he’ll be able to return to work in a while. In the meantime, I shall have to continue to pay his wage so he can support his family. He has a wife and five children. But that’s enough talk of the brewery. What did you learn from your trip to Faversham?’

  Agnes glanced at her governess. Part of her wanted to confess so she could challenge her father over his lies, but she remembered what Miss Treen had said. She couldn’t bear it if she lost her place, and she and Henry never saw her again.

  ‘Nanny taught me some history,’ she said lightly. It was true – she had learned the history of her other family and where she had come from.

  Chapter Seven

  Many a Slip Twixt Cup and Lip

  ‘We’d better make sure you’re ready in plenty of time,’ Nanny said as she brushed Agnes’s hair on the evening of the birthday celebration. It was December and a fire burned in the grate.

  ‘How about you?’ Agnes gazed at their reflections in the mirror on the dressing table. ‘You are invited to dinner.’

  ‘I’m bringing Henry to meet the guests, then I’ll put him to bed before I come back down. Now, which dress did you and Mama decide upon?’

  Mrs Roache had delivered the new dresses the day before, and although Agnes had been a little afraid of Mama’s reaction to the scarlet one, she had in fact been delighted with it.

  ‘Can’t you guess?’ Agnes smiled as Nanny finished putting her hair up.

  ‘You’re right. Of course I can. Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be wise in his. Now, mind you don’t spoil my handiwork while you’re dressing.’

  Agnes stood up and put on a long chemise and a corset of whalebone over white cotton bloomers and dark stockings. Next, she added a petticoat and an underskirt with a ruffled hem, and a corset cover before Nanny helped her with the dress. She picked up a mother-of-pearl fan from the dressing table.

  ‘What about one of your necklaces to complete the picture?’ Nanny said.

  ‘The gold one?’ Agnes opened her rosewood box and there on top of her other jewellery was the half a sixpence. She picked it up and rolled it between her fingers, remembering the pain she’d felt on meeting her true mother. ‘What if Uncle Rufus did see us and he reports to Papa while he’s here tonight?’

  ‘Don’t you think he would have done that by now? They see each other almost every day at the brewery. You know I’m right,’ Nanny said. ‘It’s important to know where you came from, but now you must put that knowledge aside and make the best life that you can. Put the coin away. Keep it safe.’

  Agnes hid it in the compartment beneath the velvet liner at the bottom of the box. She had thought of little else the past few days, and managed to gain some perspective on what she had found out about her past. Her mother had loved her. She had no doubt that she had done her best in her straitened circumstances. She wondered what her life would have been like if her parents had married. Would she have been brought up on the land and lived in a tiny cottage? Would she have had lots of brothers and sisters? She would have liked to have been part of a large family, but there was no point in wishing that things had been different.

  Nanny was right. It was time to shut away the past, and move on. It was her birthday. She could still be the daughter of a baronet, she could still marry a prince, as long as nobody else knew her secret. Her true mother’s existence and the revelation of her father’s past had been a shock, but there was no need for them to affect her future.

  For the first time in her life, she felt true gratitude: to Nanny for bringing her up to be a lady, and most of all to her dear papa who had taken her in and stood by her, and loved her as his own daughter.

  She took her chosen necklace from the box and handed it to her governess who reached round and fastened the clasp at the back of her neck. Touching the jewelled pendant at her throat, Agnes glanced into the mirror again. Her eyes were flashing in the light of the candle and her cheeks were pink with anticipation.

  ‘Where has my little girl gone?’ Nanny grew tearful. ‘You are quite grown up. Soon, you will get married and leave us, then what will I do?’

  ‘You will come with me, of course,’ Agnes said, unable to contemplate being without her. ‘You will be nanny to my children.’

  ‘That’s very sweet of you. When Henry is sent away to school, I’ll be done here.’

  ‘I wonder when I’ll meet my handsome prince.’

  ‘Handsome is as handsome does, and a prince is just as likely to turn out to be a rogue as an ordinary man.’

  ‘I shan’t marry an ordinary man.’

  ‘I’m sure you won’t.’ Nanny smiled. ‘It’s time you went downstairs. Your mama has expressed a wish that you sit with her to greet the guests.’

  Agnes went to the drawing room and her mother stared at her from the chaise. She was wearing one of her pale grey dresses with a hooped skirt, and white flowers in her hair which she wore in barley curls, long ringlets which she thought the height of fashion, although Agnes begged to differ.

  ‘The red suits your colouring, although it would not be my preference,’ she said eventually. She patted the chaise beside her. ‘Come and sit here. You are looking well.’

  ‘Thank you, Mama.’ Agnes took her place as a bell rang from downstairs, announcing the arrival of the guests.

  ‘I wish you a happy birthday,’ Mama said as the visitors filed into the drawing room. Papa, wearing one of his colourful silk waistcoats, made the formal introductions. There were her uncle and his family, two sets of near neighbours, an earnest young man who was a friend of her cousin Philip, and Aunt Caroline and Agnes’s grandparents. The Seddons, the Norths and the Throwleys arrived, along with several acquaintances of Papa’s linked with his business and charitable endeavours. They were accompanied by their wives, and two of the couples brought their sons and daughters.

  ‘Allow me to introduce our beautiful daughter, Miss Agnes Berry-Clay,’ Papa kept saying. A sheen of perspiration shone on his forehead.

  If Mama had imagined that this was a good way of introducing her into society, Agnes was a little disappointed, but when she thought of the alternative, what low class of person she would have met if she had been brought up by her true mother and father, she felt somewhat mollified. Her prince wasn’t here this evening, but she had no doubt that one day he would appear. Or the baronet, she corrected herself in case she was aspiring too high. A baronet would suit her just as well.

  ‘She is grown up to be quite the young lady,’ one of the neighbours said. Agnes didn’t like the way the husband kept staring at her, his eyes sweeping her figure.

  She stood up and took her father aside.

  ‘You look very beautiful tonight,’ he said. ‘I’m very proud of you, my dear.’

  ‘Thank you. Are you well, Papa?’ she asked quietly. ‘You seem a little out of sorts.’

  ‘I am perfectly well, thank you. It is rather close in here, that’s all. The fire …’ He gestured towards the fireplace where a fairy could have extinguished the sputtering flame with a single breath. It wasn’t warm. She hadn’t put on a shawl, wanting to show off the dress, but she could have done with one.

  ‘Maybe it’s a touch of dyspepsia. Don’t worry your head about it. It will pass. I won’t let
anything spoil your evening.’ He paused before going on, ‘I have a surprise for you after dinner.’

  ‘What can that be?’ she asked, recalling the pineapple. Why did Papa always wish to show off? ‘Is it a baronet wrapped up in brown paper and string?’ she said lightly.

  ‘Oh, Agnes.’ He chuckled. ‘Not tonight, but I will find you a suitable match, a man of stature with an estate of at least one hundred acres, and not too far away so that you can visit us often.’ He turned to face the door. ‘Ah, here is my son,’ he said with a smile as Nanny led Henry and Cousin Edward into the drawing room. Henry stood shyly at Nanny’s side, wearing a sailor suit, a blouse and navy bell-bottoms which Mama had had Mrs Roache make up for him because she wanted him to look like the little Prince of Wales.

  ‘Where is the young lady of the moment?’ The sound of Uncle Rufus’s voice made Agnes start. ‘Oh, there she is.’ He pushed in between her and Papa, and took both her hands. ‘What a wonderful occasion this is.’ He had a blob of spittle on his lip and the ball of flesh at the side of his nose seemed to swell as he flared his nostrils, making her wonder if he had already partaken of too much sherry.

  ‘It is indeed, uncle,’ she said, trying to extricate herself from the unwanted contact without appearing rude.

  ‘You will accompany me to the dining room,’ he said, taking her by the arm instead. ‘I hope there is no garlic.’

  ‘Will you never forget?’ Mama interrupted from the chaise.

  ‘It kept the vampires away for a few days,’ he chuckled as he held out his other arm, inviting Mama to join them. She stood up and walked across to them.

  Agnes was aware that Nanny was frowning as though she wished to throw the manual of etiquette at him.

  ‘I hope that Cook is well prepared. I gave her the menu to practise several days ago,’ Mama said.

  Which explained why they’d had roast venison in varying states from pink to cindered for three days in a row, Agnes thought, amused.

  Nanny removed the two younger boys to the nursery and the rest of the party proceeded to the dining room, where the ladies and gentlemen sat down to dine. Agnes found herself seated between Papa and Philip.

  Turner, who was dressed smartly in black, poured the wine. She noticed how he served Uncle Rufus sparingly with a nod from Papa. She turned to Philip, who smiled. He kept his mouth closed and it wasn’t until he spoke that she noticed he’d lost two of his teeth at the top.

  ‘This is a happy occasion, my dear cousin,’ he said.

  ‘How is Faversham?’ she asked. ‘I went there only ten days ago.’

  ‘I doubt it has changed much since then,’ he said seriously. ‘Did you find much to occupy yourself with on your outing?’

  ‘I visited the dressmaker, and Nanny and I went—’ She bit her tongue, remembering that her governess had gone against Papa’s orders. ‘How are your studies?’ she asked, changing the subject. ‘Are you still planning to enter the medical profession?’

  ‘Of course, but I’m still trying to obtain my father’s blessing’ – he smiled again – ‘and a contribution to the expenses that I’d incur. I’ve left school and have no occupation, apart from going to the brewery every day to sit in the office and stare at the walls. It is tedious.’

  ‘Why does he thwart you?’

  ‘He is of the opinion that a gentleman should not work with his hands. I’ve told him that I can be a physician – I wouldn’t be required to perform any procedures or surgeries as a surgeon does – but I can’t convince him. I thought I’d speak to your father at some stage to see if he’ll put a good word in for me.’

  ‘My papa is tired,’ Agnes said.

  ‘And mine is a forceful and opinionated man, although his mind isn’t as sharp as it used to be. I will not sacrifice my ambition for the brewery, so if the situation can’t be resolved, I will walk away. I have some money put aside, and I can work while I’m studying.’

  ‘Could you really do that, change your life in that way?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’m a coward at heart, too fearful of being cut off from my family to take that step.’

  ‘It would be even harder for a member of the fairer sex,’ Agnes observed. She looked around the table. Nanny, who had returned from the nursery and taken her place at the end of the table alongside Mama’s parents, flashed her a glance of warning.

  ‘We’d better keep our voices down, Cousin Philip. Our conversation is too animated for the dinner table.’ Agnes suppresed a chuckle. It’s giving Nanny concerns about our digestion.’

  They went on to eat in silence.

  Agnes barely tasted the fish course, or the venison, or the chartreuse of oranges and dariole pudding, because the memory of the small boy and the bucket of trimmings he had snipped from the hides at the tannery sprang to her mind as she watched her privileged family and acquaintances pushing food into their mouths to excess. She wondered what ‘wittles’ Bert and his nearest and dearest were eating this evening. She wasn’t sure why she had thought of him and the Cheeverses after all this time. Perhaps it was because Philip’s honesty, which she admired, had reminded her a little of Oliver Cheevers.

  ‘Shall we retire to the drawing room?’ Mama said at the end of the meal. ‘The gentlemen may stay and smoke if they wish.’

  ‘Oh no,’ Papa said immediately. He didn’t smoke, but Uncle Rufus enjoyed a pipe. ‘We will have some music – Agnes, will you sing to us, while Miss Treen plays the piano? I have a fancy to sit and listen for a while.’

  ‘Are you sure you wish me to sing, Papa?’ she said, recalling the occasion at Henry’s christening many years before when her attempts at entertainment had been rebuffed.

  ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘This is your day.’

  Nanny moved to Agnes’s side as they entered the drawing room. Agnes glanced towards Philip, who was standing beside his earnest friend with his back to the fireplace. He smiled and she smiled back.

  Nanny sat down at the pianoforte.

  ‘What would you like to begin with, Agnes?’

  ‘“The Mistletoe Bough”, I think.’

  Nanny raised one eyebrow. ‘Are you sure?’

  Agnes nodded. The song was a little downhearted, about a missing newlywed bride who locked herself in a trunk while playing hide and seek with her wedding party, and died before she could be found, but it was in a key that suited her voice and she carried it off with aplomb. The audience clapped and cheered.

  ‘Louisa, she is not only a beauty, she is a clever and artistic young lady,’ said Aunt Sarah. ‘She is a credit to you.’

  ‘They have been practising for many hours and given me quite a headache.’ Mama sighed, but she appeared to be enjoying the attention of the guests.

  ‘I expect you have been standing over them with a horsewhip,’ Uncle Rufus said cheerfully.

  ‘Not at all,’ Mama said. ‘I have better ways of occupying my time.’

  Agnes smiled to herself. Her upbringing had nothing to do with her adoptive mother, and everything to do with her father and governess.

  ‘I do believe that is enough for now. You can have too much of a good thing, don’t you think?’ Mama went on.

  ‘Not when she sings so sweetly, like a bird.’ Uncle Rufus turned to Papa. ‘I didn’t realise that Agnes and Miss Treen had accompanied you to Faversham the other day. I was most surprised to see them on the wharf.’

  Agnes froze. A chill ran down her spine as her uncle curled his mouth into a challenging smile.

  ‘The wharf?’ Papa said.

  ‘I’m not mistaken,’ Uncle Rufus said. ‘Look how the guilty party blanches and trembles.’

  ‘My instructions were to keep to the main streets,’ Papa said, addressing Nanny.

  ‘We took a wrong turn,’ she said, keeping her eyes warily on the younger Mr Berry-Clay.

  ‘And just happened to run into a mutual acquaintance of ours to ask her for directions, I assume,’ he said.

  ‘Which acquaintance?’ Mama said. ‘Do tell.’ />
  Papa was bristling with fury. His face turned a deep scarlet.

  ‘My daughter and her governess have no acquaintances in Faversham.’

  ‘I thought as much, James. I feel it is my duty to report that I have seen your daughter and her chaperone in the company of the woman we once met at the Union, the whore whose child you took in.’

  Silence fell upon the room. Everyone – the neighbours, friends, the gentlemen of the Board of Guardians, the Seddons, the Norths and the Throwleys – stared at the Berry-Clay brothers.

  ‘Oh dear, have I said too much?’ Uncle Rufus said.

  Of course he had, Agnes thought, her jaw dropped open. To accuse someone’s daughter of being born from the belly of a prostitute was disgraceful conduct when the mere sound of a belch in company could lead to the offender being ostracised by society. Her uncle’s comment was absolutely unforgivable, and from the shocked silence that ensued, everyone in the room thought the same.

  ‘Is this true?’ Papa turned to Nanny.

  ‘Don’t listen to my husband,’ Aunt Sarah stepped into the fray, reaching for her husband’s sleeve. ‘I’m afraid that he has taken leave of his senses.’ She turned to the rest of the company. ‘He is in his cups, thanks to the butler being overly generous with the contents of the cellar.’

  It wasn’t fair to blame Turner, Agnes thought, her heart pounding with apprehension.

  ‘Rufus, we should send for our carriage and make our way home immediately.’

  ‘What, and spoil the party?’ he barked.

  ‘You are doing that by yourself,’ Aunt Sarah muttered. ‘I am mortified.’

  Turner cleared his throat to draw attention. ‘I shall arrange for some strong coffee and tobacco to be sent up to the dining room. Gentlemen, come this way.’ He tried to divert the brothers from the drawing room, on to the landing outside, but they refused to continue their argument in private, as though years of sibling rivalry and antagonism had bubbled over into outright war.

  ‘I saw what I saw with my own eyes,’ Uncle Rufus slurred. ‘It is the absolute truth. I mean, why would I make it up?’