‘The mistress thought as yer might appreciate a good soak an’ some clean clothes,’ Ruby informed her kindly. ‘I took the liberty of unpackin’ yer trunk an’ I’ve put yer nightclothes on that chair over there. Master Josh brought it back wi’ him when you an’ the little ’un went missin’. I hope yer don’t mind?’
‘It was very kind of you, Ruby,’ Maria assured her. ‘And it looks like heaven to me at the moment. I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like to be clean.’
‘Well, take as long as yer like,’ Ruby told her. ‘I shan’t leave the little ’un till yer get back, an’ while yer gone I’ll organise some milk fer her, shall I?’
‘Thank you.’ Maria waited until Ruby had gone then after locking the door she stripped off her clothes and dropped them in a pile onto the floor before sliding into the hot water and sighing with contentment. She washed her hair and every inch of herself thoroughly with lavender-perfumed soap, then after climbing from the bath she rubbed her clean hair with the soft towels Ruby had provided and donned the linen nightgown that Isabelle had bought her on their shopping trip before they sailed for Australia. It all seemed like a lifetime ago now. So much had happened since then, but soon she would return to her mother and somehow life would have to go on without Josh. It was a daunting thought, and as she made her way back to the nursery, her heart was heavy.
The next morning, later than usual due to the disturbed night, Ruby carried a tray of breakfast up to the nursery, only to find Maria already up and dressed and giving Faith a bottle. The girl was shocked to see that, dressed in respectable clothes and with her hair shining, Maria was actually a very attractive young lady. Setting the tray down, Ruby crossed to stare down at the baby.
‘By, she’s a little beauty, ain’t she?’ she sighed. ‘Everyone below stairs is made up at the thought o’ havin’ a little one about the house again. I’ve no doubt she’s goin’ to be spoiled rotten. But while I remember, I must pass on a message from the mistress. She says to tell yer that a carriage will take yer to visit yer mother as soon as you’ve a mind to go. I shall watch Faith till yer get back, an’ I’ll take good care of her, I promise.’
Maria chewed her lip. Of course, she was longing to see her family again but she was sure that Josh had said her father was to be buried that morning.
‘Thank you, Ruby. Perhaps you could arrange for me to go as soon as possible then? I believe my father’s funeral is to take place this morning and I ought to attend.’
Ruby nodded understandingly as she made for the door, telling her, ‘O’ course yer should. I’ll order the carriage to be brought round to the front in ten minutes, miss. But while I do that, eat some o’ that breakfast. You ain’t as far through as a broom handle.’
Maria smiled as she laid Faith back in her crib although she wasn’t looking forward to the ordeal ahead at all.
She picked at the food, then after making sure that Faith was sleeping soundly, she put her cloak on and hurried down to the entrance hall, where Jennings told her, ‘The carriage is all ready for you, Miss Mundy. Good luck.’
Maria thanked him. Jennings obviously knew about the funeral and now she just wanted to go and get it over with. It was then that Josh appeared from the dining room to ask her, ‘Would you like me to come with you, Maria?’
Her heart pounded at the sight of him but she shook her head.
‘Thank you for offering, but no. I’d like some time alone with my mother before we go to the church.’
‘Of course.’ He stood uncertainly for a moment. There was so much more he wanted to say to her. They hadn’t had a second alone together since he had rescued her from Hatter’s Hall, but in the end he merely turned and walked away as Maria went out to the waiting carriage.
Thankfully the snow had stopped falling during the night. It was still bitterly cold, with a threat in the sky of more to come, but at last the carriage pulled up in front of Maria’s home and the driver helped her alight saying, ‘I’ve been told to take you an’ yer family to the church whenever yer ready, miss. Take your time and just give us a shout when yer want to go.’
‘Thank you,’ she told him, then walking to the familiar door she pushed it open and there was her family. There had been times over the last months when she had thought she would never see them again, and now the tears in her throat threatened to choke her; she could not speak a word as her mother and Emma rushed over to envelop her in a hug, whilst Henry looked on with a broad smile on his face.
‘Eeh lass, you’ll never know how much I’ve missed you,’ Martha told her as she drew her towards a chair, and then suddenly they were talking ten to the dozen as they caught up on all that had been happening to them. Aware of the man left out in the cold, Maria ensured that everyone was ready to leave shortly. The time seemed to fly by, but eventually they heard the hearse that Josh had ordered to take Edward’s body to the church draw up outside and the undertaker entered to nail down the coffin lid.
‘Your father is in the parlour. Would you like to go in and pay your last respects?’ Martha asked quietly.
Maria nodded. She supposed she should; it was her duty to say goodbye to him. As she stared down at his face, stern even in death, a tear trickled from the corner of her eyes for all that should have been. He had been her father, after all, and she would have liked to have been a normal loving daughter to him, but for some reason Edward had always held her at arm’s length. And now it was too late to change anything.
‘Goodbye, Father, I hope you rest in peace,’ she muttered, and she then left the room to allow Mr Boot to do his job.
Chapter Thirty-six
‘It was a good turnout, wasn’t it?’ Maria said on the way back from the church following the burial.
‘Yes, it was,’ Martha said as she stared from the window of the carriage. ‘But then your father was a well-respected man.’
‘Only because people didn’t know him as we did,’ Maria said before she could stop herself.
‘It’s wrong to speak ill of the dead.’ Martha frowned at her as she held tight to Emma’s small hand. ‘Especially so soon after their death.’
‘But I’m only speaking the truth, Mother.’ Maria’s chin lifted in defiance. She could not be a hypocrite and pretend to be sad at her father’s passing, especially as there were more pressing things on her mind. She hadn’t wished to raise them before the service but now she said tentatively, ‘Wasn’t the cottage tied to Father’s job?’
Martha sighed. ‘Yes, it was, and the landlord has already been to see me. He intimated that as soon as another preacher is instructed to take your father’s place, he will be entitled to move into the cottage.’
‘And how long will that be?’
Martha shrugged, trying to hide her deep concern. ‘I don’t know, dear. But I shouldn’t think it will take the chapel authorities long to find a replacement.’ In actual fact she had lain awake all night worrying about it.
‘And where will we all live then?’ asked Emma, looking scared. She had been crying, and there were tear-tracks running down her face.
‘I have no idea,’ Martha said, ‘but I’ve no doubt something will turn up, although it will be difficult to find anywhere as cheap. It’s hard enough as it is with only Henry’s wage coming in, and it’s the wrong time of the year to take in any more washing. It’s so difficult to get it all dry. I’m sure that having wet washing strung about the kitchen all the time isn’t helping your chest, pet, but what else can I do?’
‘Well, I can help out now that I’m back,’ Maria assured her. ‘I’m sure Mrs Montgomery will give me a wage for looking after Faith until she employs a proper nanny, and then I can get another position.’
‘Don’t you get fretting about us. I’m just happy to have you back safe and sound,’ Martha told her affectionately as she took both her daughters’ hands. ‘You know what they say: when one door shuts another door opens, so let’s just wait and see, eh?’ But despite her brave words she was worried sick. She had seen to
o many people end up in the workhouse, and the thought of her youngest daughter having to live there if she could not provide for her, filled Martha with dread. It was different for Henry and Maria: they were so much older and capable of taking care of themselves if need be, but Emma, who had been left in the care of a neighbour, was still so young.
Changing the subject, Martha said, ‘But what about young Master Josh then, Maria? I’m not blind and it’s more than obvious that he cares for you. Do you not care for him?’
The colour that flooded into Maria’s cheeks was her answer.
‘So if you care for him too, what is to stop you coming together?’
‘The difference in our classes,’ Maria said shortly. ‘I would drag him down were I to marry him, Mother. You know that his kind would never accept me.’
A pain seared through Martha’s heart as she looked deep into this beloved girl’s eyes, and not for the first time she was sorely tempted to take her aside later and tell her the secret she had been forced to keep for so many years. But would Maria thank her for knowing the truth, or would she despise her? Somehow, Martha knew that she was not strong enough to risk that right now. There was so much going on in their lives, so once again she remained silent. But one day, she promised herself, one day I will tell her and pray that she will forgive me. One lapse had resulted in a lifetime of heartbreak, and all she could do now was pray that the same fate was not destined for her dear girl.
‘Will you come in for some tea before you go back to Willow Park?’ she asked when the carriage drew up outside the cottage. There would be no funeral tea for Edward Mundy; there were no spare funds for such luxuries.
‘I’ll see you safely inside but then I ought to be going,’ Maria answered. ‘Mrs Montgomery will be expecting me back and I wouldn’t like to take advantage of her good nature.’
‘I understand.’ Martha, Emma and Henry climbed down from the carriage, closely followed by Maria. It was as Martha was about to put the key in the lock that she noticed a large brown envelope that had been hidden behind the old barrel that stood by the cottage door and in which she planted pansies in the spring. Pulling it out, and brushing the snow off it, she said, ‘I wonder what this could be?’
Martha entered the kitchen and placed the envelope on the table whilst she removed her Sunday-best bonnet and her cloak. She had trimmed the bonnet with black ribbon as a token of mourning. Lifting the envelope again she slit it open, and as the contents spilled onto the table they all gasped. It was full of banknotes.
Henry pounced on them, his eyes almost popping from his head. ‘Good Lord, there must be hundreds of pounds here,’ he breathed. ‘But who could it be from? Is there a letter with it?’
Her hands shaking, Martha peered into the envelope. ‘Nothing at all,’ she choked. ‘But the envelope is clearly addressed to me. What can it mean?’
‘It means that someone has given you a very generous donation,’ Henry whooped. Suddenly it seemed that all their troubles were over. ‘It was probably one of Father’s better-off parishioners.’
‘But I can’t think of anyone who would have this much money,’ Martha stated as she eyed the pile in stunned disbelief. ‘The congregation at chapel are mostly as poor as us. How much is there, Henry?’
With Maria’s help her son began to count it and when they were done he told her, ‘There’s three hundred pounds here.’
Martha clutched at her heart; it was more money than she had ever seen or dreamed of in the whole of her downtrodden life.
‘Do you realise what this means?’ Henry crowed delightedly. Then before anyone could answer him he rushed on, ‘It means that we won’t have to worry about where we are going to live, ever again. In fact, we can afford to buy that cottage in Ridge Lane that I was telling you about – and still have enough money to spare to last us for years if we’re careful.’ He took Emma by the arms and danced about the kitchen with her until they were both breathless.
‘Stop that, the pair of you! Henry, put the money back in the envelope,’ his mother told him. ‘I cannot accept it without knowing where it came from.’
‘I think I may know who gave it to you,’ Maria said. It must be from Josh – it was the kind of generous thing he would do. ‘Just keep it somewhere very safe while I make a few enquiries,’ she ordered Henry, but Martha was obdurate.
‘No, my dear. If you think you know who it belongs to, you must return it to them for me. Give them my heartfelt thanks, but tell them that I could not accept such a sum.’
‘But—’
Martha held up her hand as Henry began to object and he clamped his mouth shut, although he did not at all agree with his mother’s decision. This was like looking a gift horse in the mouth as far as he was concerned – the answer to all their prayers – but knowing how stubborn and proud his mother could be, he accepted that it was useless to argue. Shuffling the money back into a pile, he then rammed it back into the envelope and passed it begrudgingly to Maria, who bent to kiss her mother’s pale cheek before saying, ‘I shall see that it is returned, if you are sure that is what you want, and I shall try to get back to see you later today if it’s at all possible.’
Martha nodded numbly, so with a quick hug of her brother and sister, Maria then turned and hurried out to the waiting carriage.
When Maria entered the hall of Willow Park a short time later, she found Josh waiting for her. He helped her off with her cape, asking, ‘How did the funeral go?’
‘As well as could be expected. The church was full,’ she told him, then added, ‘Thank you so much for paying the expenses. We will reimburse you, of course, as soon as possible.’
He waved her thanks aside, telling her, ‘It was the very least I could do after all you have done for Isabelle and Faith. But please, come into the drawing room. I took the liberty of ordering some tea when I saw the carriage approaching and I’m sure you must be ready for some refreshment after such a distressing morning.’
Maria hesitated, but then clutching her bag containing the money, she followed him along the hallway. It might be as well to return it now and get it over and done with.
They had barely entered the room when there was a tap at the door and a maid wheeled in a trolley containing tea and pastries. Once she was gone, Josh began to pour it out as Maria took the envelope from her bag and said quietly, ‘This was yet another very kind gesture on your part, Josh. But I am afraid my mother is already indebted to you and therefore she does not feel that she can accept it.’
He frowned in bewilderment as he paused to ask, ‘Accept what?’
She thrust the envelope towards him and, once he had glanced inside, he said: ‘I’m afraid I don’t understand. What is this?’
‘It’s the money you left for my mother whilst we were at the church.’
‘I assure you I didn’t leave it,’ he answered firmly. ‘The name on the envelope isn’t even in my handwriting.’
Now it was her turn to look bewildered as she spluttered, ‘But if you didn’t leave it, then who did?’
‘I have absolutely no idea, but I promise you it wasn’t me, so I suggest you return it to your mother as soon as possible. Someone obviously intended her to have it.’
Stunned, Maria returned the envelope to her bag and accepted the tea he held out to her, but Josh did not give her long to ponder on it because then he asked, ‘What are we going to do, Maria? About us, I mean. You know that I love you and I believe that you love me too. Surely you are not willing to throw that away?’
Her lips set in a prim line, she said, ‘I can see no point in going over this again. Your family would be the laughing stock of the county, should word get out that you were going to marry someone from my background. Especially as your mother has just accepted her illegitimate grandchild into her home. Think of what people would say.’
‘I don’t give a cuss about what people will say.’ Josh glared at her as he slammed his cup down on a small occasional table, sending tea spraying all over the fine T
urkish carpet. ‘Surely we can rise above a bit of local gossip?’
‘I think that it would amount to much more than a little gossip,’ Maria said sensibly.
‘All right then – but at least answer me one question truthfully, please. Do you have any tenderness for me, Maria, or have I imagined it?’
She wrestled with her conscience, which was screaming at her to tell him that she didn’t. And yet she found that she could not lie to him so she nodded miserably.
‘I have very deep feelings for you, and had we been born of the same class I would have been proud to be your wife. But I cannot allow you to be shunned by your own kind because of me. And anyway, my mother is going to need all the help she can get now, and once I leave here I intend to see that she receives it.’
‘Oh, don’t make your mother an excuse,’ Josh said angrily. ‘I would be more than happy to ensure that she and your family never went without anything. But you have made up your mind, haven’t you, so it appears there is no more to be said on the subject. I will not bother you again, Maria.’ And with that he strode straight-backed from the room as hot tears welled in Maria’s eyes.
In the day room, Helena was listening open-mouthed to the tale that Robert Pettifer was telling her, and trying to take it all in. She had known Robert for more years than she cared to remember and trusted him implicitly, but even so she was reeling from the shock of what he had just revealed to her. He had called at Willow Park to offer his condolences on the death of her husband, but when she told him about Josh and Maria, and the reason why the girl had rejected him, he had confessed to her his secret.
‘And so you see, if what you are saying is right, I have to talk to them,’ he ended. ‘I owe them that much at least. I will never be able to live with my conscience again if I don’t do the right thing. Neither you nor I had the happiest of marriages unfortunately, but it could be different for them. You do understand, don’t you, Helena?’
‘Yes, I do,’ she answered softly. ‘And there is no time like the present. I shall ask the maid to fetch them both in here and then I shall leave whilst you speak to them.’
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