A Dorset Girl

by Janet Woods

  She smiled. How spoiled she’d been then, how in love – and how naive to imagine Edward would wed her. Though the contents of the bag felt satisfyingly plump when she squeezed it, she knew the money wouldn’t last long. But there was a deposit box in her name with a bank in Poole, too. It contained cash. Not even Daniel knew about that one.

  She might be able to find work to support them both if she moved to Poole. She could pass herself off as a widow and Josh as her son. But how could they leave the district without detection?

  She held her breath as the shrub outside the tree began to rustle. The noise wasn’t repeated. Aware of every single ache in her body when she quietly exhaled, she had not the room to make herself more comfortable. But before long her eyelids began to droop, her head fell to her chest and sleep came to claim her for a few oblivious hours.

  Elizabeth was stiff and cold when she awoke. Alarm pricked her. Josh was nowhere to be seen. Crawling from the hole, she painfully stood. It was a chill, damp morning. Visible through the tree canopy, the sky displayed a jaundiced tinge. Wood smoke lingered in the air.

  ‘Josh,’ she called out quietly.

  Josh was nearing the barn. A quick glance around the door showed the cart and mule gone from the building. Wheel and hoof marks led out of the muddy yard. His brother seemed to have already set out for the day.

  Still, Josh was cautious. Shivering with cold and tension, he crept across to the back door. Once there, he thought better of going straight in and moved to the window, standing on tiptoe to peer over the sill. All seemed as usual. A kettle steamed on the fire. The mess of broken china had been cleaned up.

  Everything looked so normal it was suspicious. Tom would never have cleaned up the mess. Had Hannah been called in? If so, where was she? Josh hated his half-sister only marginally less than he hated Tom.

  Josh satisfied himself the downstairs rooms were uninhabited before noiselessly letting himself in. The kitchen was pleasantly warm, the wood-burning stove giving out a steady heat. He snatched up the remains of a loaf of bread and some cheese, breaking hunks off to stuff inside his pocket. He drank deeply from a jug of milk.

  It struck him as odd that the table seemed to have been recently scrubbed. It was still damp. So was the floor. The place smelled odd, too, a mixture of the scrubbing soap Elizabeth used, plus an odour of animal guts and blood? As if someone had recently butchered and drawn a carcass.

  The parlour door was ajar. The room was clearly empty. He sidled upstairs, using the sides of the steps so they wouldn’t creak and give him away. Both of the front bedrooms were empty. Once again the doors were ajar. The door to the third bedroom over the kitchen was pushed back almost against the wall. All the room contained was an iron bed with a straw mattress and a dresser. No place to hide there.

  The cow was bellowing in the barn. She needed milking. The surplus would be fed to the pigs. It was something he’d do after he’d told Elizabeth it was safe to come back down. The emptiness of the house made him relax his guard.

  Feeling confident now, Josh bounded downstairs. Swigging the remains of the jug of milk on the way through, he closed the kitchen door behind him.

  As he raced through the yard, his ears registered the thud of a hoof on the floor of the barn, the snicker of a horse. Used to such noises, Josh didn’t realize the significance of it as he sped over the paddock towards the trees, shouting to Elizabeth that it was safe to come out.

  Back at Croxley Farm, Edward had stepped out from behind the bedroom door and crossed to the window. As he watched Elizabeth emerge from the trees, a smile crept across his face. He should never have let her go.

  Elizabeth was in her bedroom gathering a few clothes together when Edward appeared at the doorway.

  ‘You needn’t hurry. Tom Skinner is in the infirmary.’

  Her eyes widened and her hand flew to her chest. She stumbled away from him, falling against the dresser with a frightened squeak. A candle in a brass holder crashed to the floor. ‘I thought you were Tom.’

  He began to burn with rage when he saw the condition she was in, sorry he’d startled her.

  The next moment the lad slipped past him. He was a skinny little thing, his eyes large in a face so gaunt it made him look old. A wicked-looking carving knife was clutched in his hand, though he quivered from head to foot with the fright he felt.

  ‘Make one move towards her, mister, and I’ll stick you right through the gizzards.’

  ‘It’s all right, Josh,’ she said, her hand going to his arm. ‘This is Squire Forbes. He won’t hurt me.’

  Josh stared suspiciously at him. ‘Aye, we met before.’

  The child was obviously terrified, yet he was trying hard to be a man. Edward gave him an easy smile. ‘You have much courage, lad. You must be Josh Skinner. Your sister, Siana, spoke of you.’

  ‘Siana.’ His eyes clouded over. ‘She didn’t come on Wednesday like she usually does.’

  ‘Daisy was in the infirmary at Poole. Your sister stayed with her until she recovered.’

  Elizabeth put an arm around Josh and kissed the top of his head. ‘Go and milk the cow and feed the pigs, Josh. I’ll be all right. I’ll cook us some ham and eggs for breakfast whilst you’re doing that.’

  When he clattered off down the stairs, Edward gazed at her. ‘Your husband is badly injured. It’s doubtful whether he’ll survive. I’m going to tell his sister and her husband to look after the livestock for the time being.’

  Although Elizabeth paled, her expression was one of relief.

  ‘I was about to leave him. I have a little money put aside. I thought I might go to Poole perhaps. I could start a business. A little school, teaching the daughters of merchants deportment and manners so they can improve their chance of making a good marriage. Or I could open a shop. Sell hats, gloves and fans.’

  ‘I’d be willing to offer you a loan. Damn it, I’ve missed you, Elizabeth.’

  Elizabeth’s heart began to race, then faltered when he said; ‘I didn’t want to tell you in front of the boy, but Tom Skinner has half killed Siana Lewis. She’s at Cheverton Manor at the moment.’

  ‘Cheverton Manor?’ Even Elizabeth had never been invited there.

  ‘It’s a temporary arrangement. There’s a charming residence outside Poole I’ve just bought. I thought to move her there in a day or two. It sits on a rise in substantial grounds and has a meadow and stable attached. You can move in as well, look after her. It’s secluded, but affords a fine view of the harbour from the back.’

  ‘And the house in Dorchester?’

  He heaved an aggrieved sigh. ‘Isabelle’s aunt and a pack of King Charles spaniels will occupy it shortly.’

  Elizabeth stared at him. ‘What is Siana to you? You must know she’s engaged to be married to Daniel.’

  His eyes hooded slightly, his manner became offhand. ‘Why, yes, of course. Daniel told me. Why else would I take the girl in?’

  Her suspicions were somewhat dispelled by his forthright manner.

  ‘I need you to make out a list of what the girl and her sister need in the way of clothing. They have only the clothes they stand up in. You do understand there’s nothing untoward in this, don’t you?’

  She knew him too well to believe his motives were entirely altruistic. ‘Of course I understand, Edward.’

  ‘Then you’ll come to the manor and look after the girl? She can be your first pupil and should pose quite a challenge. God knows, she has rough edges enough, but I believe she is a quick learner. Between us, we will turn her into a fitting bride for our son.’

  At least Elizabeth would have a safe roof over her head there. If Tom recovered he would not dare come after her whilst she was under Edward’s protection. But she’d not leave without Josh. ‘Josh must come too.’

  Edward inclined his head. ‘I’ve taken a liking to the lad and intend to offer him employment.’

  ‘You must not work him too hard. He’s taken too much abuse and is physically exhausted. He must live wi
th me and his sisters until he’s strong.’

  ‘Anything you want, my dearest.’ He opened his arms to her. ‘Now, come here and allow me to comfort you.’

  Her eyes hardened. ‘I don’t need your comfort, Edward. You need mine. I will not come to you on the same terms as before. I’ve learned that men cannot be trusted, especially those in a position of power. From now on, I refuse to be at your beck and call, and you will remunerate me for my services to Miss Lewis.’

  Taken aback, he muttered, ‘I will reinstate your allowance.’

  ‘I would prefer it to be increased, for now I have the responsibility of others to consider. Namely, a young girl who will one day become my daughter.’

  ‘Elizabeth . . . Elizabeth, we are doing this for Daniel,’ he cried out softly, for he understood all too well the meaning behind her words. ‘I deserve to be punished, but I know you still care for me. Your reluctance will only serve to fuel my ardour, especially after our last delightful encounter in this very room.’ And I’m not a fool to give all and have nothing in return, he thought.

  Elizabeth blushed when she remembered how weak she’d been. Sucking in a deep breath, she set the memory aside. ‘I will pay rent for the house and have a tenancy agreement. Then you will not be able to evict me on a whim as you did last time. Those are my terms.’

  ‘Anything else?’ he said with a certain amount of humility, for she’d done more than just prick his conscience during this encounter. She was set to punish him further and he did not blame her for that. But she would bend to his will without too much persuasion, and ultimately, she would do as he pleased.

  Elizabeth considered she might have pushed him far enough. ‘I cannot think of anything more at the moment.’

  ‘Good.’ He’d drawn away now, hiding the wound she’d dealt his pride behind a barrier of aloofness. ‘I’ll take my leave now and will instruct my lawyer to draw up a tenancy agreement.’ He gave her a reproachful look. ‘The house in Poole is furnished, but if there’s anything you wish to take from here . . . ?’

  She wanted nothing Tom Skinner had touched. ‘Just my clothes, and . . . the mule.’

  His eyebrows arched in surprise. ‘That damned mule kicked your husband half to death. He’s old. I was going to send him to the knackery.’

  ‘He reacted because Tom beat him so.’ Her hands went to her hips. ‘He will be company for Daniel’s horse. Jasper comes with us, otherwise I’ll refuse to come.’

  She would toss aside everything he’d offered for the sake of a flea-bitten mule? There was no logic to women. ‘All right, damn it! We’ll pick up the beast from the infirmary. But if that brute so much as bares its teeth at you, I’ll mount its head in the trophy room.’

  She smiled then and, crossing to where he stood, kissed the crossness from his cheek. ‘Be careful, Edward. You are showing me your soft side.’

  How wonderfully she flattered him, appealing to the male in him with an instinct as old as Eve’s. He slid his arms around her waist. There was an earthy smell about her, reminding him of mushrooms and damp leaves. A cobweb bound the silky strands of her hair together and her bodice was stained. The stain displeased him. It reminded him he’d given her to a man who’d sought to ruin her.

  He kissed her forehead and turned towards the stairs. ‘I will send the carriage for you later in the morning then. Be ready, you’d best be out of here before the new tenant moves in.’

  That same evening Hannah moved in to Croxley Farm. Feeling awed by her surroundings she crept through the rooms, touching the fabric of the bedcovers. The mattress was made of feathers. She sank into it, rolling back and forth. ‘It be a bed fit for a queen. I’ll be right comfy in it,’ she whispered to her son.

  She opened all the cupboards and drawers and, finding a torn taffeta gown and a pair of neatly darned silk gloves, she pulled them on, leaving the bodice open because it didn’t quite cover her. ‘I likes these pretty things,’ she crooned, pulling the gloves up to her elbow and parading around the room.

  George’s watery blue eyes gazed dully at her. He had infected flea bites on his face and mucus coated his nose. He started to grizzle.

  Irritated by his continual whining, she carried him through to the smaller room and, dumping him on the bed, shut the door and went downstairs.

  The kitchen was still warm. Stoking up the ashes of the fire, she made herself a cup of tea, using Elizabeth’s best china. Dainty little things they were. They made her feel like a right toff. She didn’t wonder where Elizabeth had gone. Knowing her brother Tom, he’d either thrown her out, or killed her and buried her in the woods.

  Either way, Hannah didn’t care. She hoped Tom died so she could stay here for ever. She and Ben might be a bit slow in the head, but he was a nice-looking man and a right good worker with her behind him. A pity he was so randy with it, like a dog after a bitch. She wasn’t having any of it, though.

  She pulled a chair up to the fire, propped up her heels on the guard and listened to George cry as the heat warmed the back of her legs. Bleddy, noisy brat. He should have learned not to cry, by now. If he didn’t shut his mouth soon she’d give him a good crack. After a while he stopped crying, like she knew he would. Face flushed and drowsy from the heat, her head began to nod. As she relaxed, her skirts gradually slipped up her thighs.

  Her husband came across her like that. Transfixed, Ben Collins stood and stared at her bosoms, hanging like ripe melons from the bodice. Wasn’t often he got to see them. Her thighs were all dimpled and quivering. She looked like gentry in that dress, just like the squire’s intended. His tongue flicked out and he licked the dryness from his lips as he thought of Isabelle. She reminded him of a farm girl he’d once loved. A warm handful or two, that one had been. He’d nearly had her once.

  He grinned to himself. Moving closer, he watched Hannah’s chest rise and fall as she snored. She hadn’t let him touch her since the baby was born. Tentatively, he placed his hands over each quivering mound. The skin felt soft and silky. ‘Eh, them be a real nice pair of titties,’ he whispered, and his stem lengthened until it was fit to burst out of its skin. He loosened his trousers so he sprang proud and free.

  Suddenly, Hannah’s eyes opened and awareness came into them. ‘You dirty beggar,’ she yelled, slapping his hands away. ‘Didn’t I tell you that you ain’t planting no more of your brats in me? Now get out and feed them pigs. They be setting up such a ruckus I can’t think.’

  His trousers fell around his ankles and he scrambled to pull them up as she reached for a cast-iron skillet. He tripped and fell flat on his face. When the skillet descended on his bare backside he let out a howl.

  Upstairs, baby George jerked awake, peed into his already soaked linens and began to scream as the acid attacked the flaming rawness of his skin. Irritated beyond measure, Hannah headed for the stairs.

  Siana was propped up against the pillows. She’d never known such comfort. The room was wonderfully warm. The linens were soft and smelled as if they were filled with fresh air and sunshine. Dosed with laudanum she felt lethargic, but although the opiate had dulled the pain in her arm it could not dull the pain in her heart. She felt like crying, even though she was surrounded by such luxury.

  A cheerful maid who announced herself as Rosie had brought her sister in earlier, bathed, and dressed in a warm smock over a flannel dress. Daisy’s blonde curls were tied with a blue ribbon to match her eyes. Her legs were encased in warm woollen leggings, her feet slipped into shoes of soft black leather tied with a ribbon.

  Oblivious to her new grandeur, Daisy smiled happily at her as she brandished a rag doll in the air. ‘Pretty dolly.’

  Siana kissed her sister. If only her mother could see her dressed like this. She’d be so proud of her. ‘It’s you who looks like a pretty dolly.’

  ‘She’s a dear little miss,’ the maid said. ‘And no trouble. She cleaned up every morsel set in front of her. Cook was real pleased.’

  The poor couldn’t afford to be picky, Siana thoug
ht.

  ‘The master sent the housekeeper out to buy some clothes for her.’ She giggled. ‘Some carry on with the old hen, though. “Something serviceable, no doubt,” Mrs Pawley says to him, her lips pursed with disapproval at all the comings and goings.’

  ‘Shall Rosie tell you what the squire says to her?’

  Siana nodded.

  Rosie giggled again and looked down her nose in a passable imitation of the squire.

  ‘ “My dear Mrs Pawley,” says he, handing her a list. “You will buy everything written on that paper, and you will also purchase a pretty gown for the girl to wear on Sundays.”

  ‘“Waste of money on that Skinner riff-raff,” Mrs Pawley says, giving a sniff and being all hoity-toity on account of the fact she used to work for the late squire.

  ‘“The child can’t be blamed for her birth any more than you can help having a wart on the end of your nose,” squire said back to her, pretty sharpish, like. “If you intend to insult my guests, you can pack your bags and clear orf.” The old hag soon changed her manner, I can tell you.’

  Fondly, she gazed down at Daisy. ‘So here she be. You’m be all sweet and lovely now, don’t you, my bonny one?’

  Daisy jiggled up and down and held out her arms to the maid.

  ‘Master says she’s to sleep in the nursery tonight so you can get some rest.’ Rosie slowly shook her head when Siana murmured a protest. ‘Now don’t you fret none, missy. Squire has put Daisy in my charge and I’ll be up there with her. It’s going to be a real treat not to hear Mrs Pawley snoring in the next room, I can tell you.’

  Rosie stood up when someone tapped at the door. ‘That’ll be your tea, I expect. Light meals, the doctor has ordered. Now, make sure you eat it all up or cook will be after you.’

  Apart from tea in a china pot, the meal consisted of thin slices of bread spread with creamy butter. There was a glass dish filled with gooseberry conserve and a slice of cake. Siana had never tasted such a delicious meal.