The Daily Telegraph would also arrive in the morning, as her father had loved to keep abreast of local events and the world at large. She had always been pleased when, after he had taken his turn of the paper, he would hand it over to her with the words, “Here you are, Audrey. Now solve the world’s problems before supper.”
She had diligently reviewed the paper but had not been able to fulfill the task. She heard noises in the other room and moved to join her sister, Frances, who appeared half asleep.
“Audrey,” she said in greeting before taking a thick slice of bread and stuffing it into her mouth.
“Frances,” her mother admonished behind her. “Please remember your manners. You behave like a farmer.”
Frances, duly scolded, quietly took her seat while her mother poured herself a cup of tea.
“Mother, Francie is very young. She doesn’t have to be so proper in her own home, surely.” Audrey winked at her sister.
Augusta cast an eye at Audrey. “I disagree. The home is where manners are taught. Your father was always too lax with you. I won’t be the same with Frances.”
Audrey tried hard but couldn’t resist rolling her eyes.
“And don’t roll your eyes at me. It’s a vulgar habit,” Augusta told her.
Audrey looked away and concentrated on buttering her bread as her mother added a bit of milk to her tea.
“What are your plans today?” her mother asked her.
“I thought perhaps to take a walk and go into town.”
“Excellent. A good brisk walk is good exercise. I don’t want you to put on weight. Men like a trim figure.”
Audrey blushed lightly. “Very well, Mother. I’ll make sure to keep a trim figure for all the many, many men lining up outside our door to marry me,” she returned sarcastically.
“Really? Many, many men?” Frances pipped up, thinking her sister was serious. “Where?”
“Whenever you’re finished, you can be on your way, Audrey,” her mother said coldly.
“Ma’am,” she said and removed herself from the room.
She pulled on her bonnet and tied it under her chin. Her mother could be so hard on her sister, and Audrey tried to fight it when she could. She was lucky her father had been her champion when she was young, but Frances had only her.
She walked along the lane and passed the milkman who was headed to her house. He nodded to her and doffed his cap as she bid him a good morning.
She set out along the path, breathed in the crisp morning air, and grinned in spite of herself. It had been a month since her father’s death, and though she felt his loss keenly, she knew she must move forward. Her sister and mother needed her strength, and she must find a way for them to survive.
The pharmacy sign hung above the front door of the building. The doctor shared a small office at the back of the pharmacy. He brought business and income to them. He had been the doctor in the village for over twenty-five years, and his hours were well known. He was only in the office on Monday and Friday mornings. Otherwise, he was out visiting patients.
Dr. Thomson had been married years before and had brought a woman from the north to the small village. He had been devoted to her and she to him. She had given birth to a stillborn and died a week later. He had never remarried.
He had grown older in the village. He had tried to bring younger doctors in to work alongside him, but the villagers would not have it. The people had been stern that they wanted Dr. Thomson and no other. In the end, Dr. Thomson remained a steadfast force in their small little world.
“Dr. Thomson?” Audrey said as she knocked on the door to his office.
“Come in,” came the response. When she entered, he looked up from his newspaper. “Audrey, my dear, what brings you to see me? Are you unwell?” He gestured to the seat across from his desk.
“No.” She shook her head and took the seat he offered. “I’m not unwell. A little melancholy perhaps.”
“That’s to be expected,” he said, folding the newspaper in half and placing it aside. “Grief is a difficult path to walk. Some people grieve for some time and then move on. Some grieve for a lifetime like our beloved queen for her Prince Albert. It takes time. But time does heal the wounds of the heart. Can I get you a cup of tea?” he asked.
“No, thank you.”
He studied her with his intelligent eyes. “So, tell me. What brings you here?”
Audrey paused and chose her words carefully. “Mother and I went to see our solicitor, Mr. Felton.”
“Old Felty. How was the visit?”
“Not good. Mr. Felton explained that Father had previously done well and managed to put aside some money for us. But the last time he visited Mr. Felton, his circumstances had changed. He has left us just fifty pounds.”
“Fifty pounds?” Dr. Thomson frowned at the low sum.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Yes. Mr. Felton is going to speak to the parish to possibly forego the rent for the time being, but even if he buys us a few months, half a year, we must make a change by the end of the year.”
“Oh, my dear. I’m very sorry to hear of your circumstances. Coming after your father’s death, it seems so cruel,” he said kindly.
“I’ve come to you because I remember you told me I must be strong. Strong for my mother and sister. They are all I have. My father had no living family, and my mother had a falling-out with her brother. I asked her to write to him, but she won’t allow it.” She shook her head.
He hummed quietly. “That makes things difficult. Do you think she will reconsider contacting her brother?”
“No. My mother can be very stubborn. My uncle disapproved of my father apparently. They thought a vicar beneath them. I know nothing of her people. But it doesn’t look as if we can go to them,” Audrey said.
Enoch sighed. “This is a difficult situation. Your father’s earnings as a vicar and the house you live in are tied to the parish. Once he died, that all went with him. That’s the unpleasant truth.”
“I know,” she agreed. “I wonder if should try and seek employment. I trained at the Queen’s College as a governess, but I don’t know how to begin. Would I answer an ad in the newspaper or find someone such as yourself to recommend me? I would like to make sure that I find a decent and good home to be in.”
“You are a very formidable young lady, Audrey. I know your father thought highly of you and he would be proud of you now.”
She smiled sadly. “I would be more timid if I could have Father back.”
“Yes, of course,” Enoch agreed. “But though a governess might solve some problems, there are other issues that might then arise.”
“Such as?” she asked.
“Normally, a governess lives with the family where she teaches. She almost might travel with them if they move to the country in the off-season. I don’t think any household would allow you to take your mother and sister as well, and I don’t think you can afford to keep them in their present house,” he pointed out.
Audrey’s face fell. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“But don’t lose hope,” he said. “Let me ponder on the issue at hand. I will think hard on what you need and what you can offer and come up with a solution. I give you my word.”
Audrey breathed out heavily. “Thank you, Dr. Thomson. If you can help me and my family find a solution to this, I would be forever grateful.”
“Nonsense. It is the least I can do. Give me a week or two, and I will send word.”
She stood. “God bless you.”
“And you, my dear.”
Chapter Three
After supper, Audrey, her mother, and her sister retired to the parlor. Two cups of cocoa specially prepared by Cook were made for the two young ladies while Augusta enjoyed a glass of her favorite port from Taylor Fladgate.
Audrey warmed herself by the fire while her mother sat nearby, quietly embroidering. In between sips of cocoa, Frances played with her doll on the floor. On Audrey’s lap was Henry Ja
mes’ The American, which she found enjoyable, but lately her mind had begun to wander. She was preoccupied with the financial troubles they now found themselves in, and she wondered if Dr. Thomson would be able to help them as he promised.
She had been so set on becoming a governess in a grand house that she hadn’t really thought it through until she had talked with the doctor. Now reviewing it more thoroughly, she realized it would not do at all. A grand home with servants and a well-to-do family would take in a governess to educate the children and expect her to be silent and obedient.
Such a family would not allow a governess to bring in her own mother and sister while they sheltered and fed the three of them. That would be out of the question. She frowned as she looked into the fire and thought about what else she might be suited to do. She could seek employment in one of those grand department stores in London that she had visited once or twice while at college.
She had been in awe of their sophistication and thought she might enjoy that, but it didn’t solve the problem of what to do with her mother and sister. She might look to seek employment as a secretary or clerk, but while her skills in both areas were inadequate, she was certain not to impress any employer.
She opened the book to the page where she had left off, but she wasn’t reading. She had thought about getting a job as a schoolteacher, but she didn’t know where to begin. It was this sort of confusion that she hoped Dr. Thomson would help her with. She wanted to be able to make a livable wage and support her family.
She looked across at her mother, who was nodding off to sleep, and Frances, who was still playing but yawning occasionally.
“Come, Lambkin,” Audrey said softly. “I’ll put you to bed.”
Together, they walked down the hallway and into her small room. It was simply furnished with a bed, a chest of drawers, a small desk, and a chair. She had a bookcase, but it was mostly filled with toys and only a few books.
“Get dressed for bed,” Audrey directed.
The young girl compiled, pulling on a linen nightgown before climbing into bed. “Audrey.”
“Yes, dearest?”
“I miss Father,” she said quietly.
Audrey sighed. “I miss him, too, Francie.”
“Does Mother miss him?” She peered up at Audrey, earnest in her question.
Audrey tried to smile, but she couldn’t. “Of course. She was with him longer than you and I.”
“He’s not coming back,” she asked quietly.
“No, Lambkin. He’s not coming back,” Audrey said, fighting the tears that suddenly sprang to her eyes.
Frances didn’t speak immediately. After several long moments, she asked, “Will we be all right?”
“What do you mean?” Audrey frowned.
“At night, sometimes I hear Mother crying. And I know you’re unhappy, too. I worry for you.” Her little face was full of concern.
Audrey leaned down and hugged her sister tightly. “Francie, you’re a young girl. You shouldn’t burden yourself with these troubles. I forbid it. I’ll take care of us. I’ll find a way. I’ve already made inquiries.”
Her little face scrunched up. “How will you take care of us?”
“I went to college, didn’t I?” Audrey said. “I have skills. Remember when you were much smaller and I was gone? I was at school.”
Frances nodded. “I remember. You were gone ages.”
“Well, I came back, silly. Do you know where I went?” Audrey asked.
“To town.”
“To the biggest town ever! I went to London. And I studied,” Audrey explained.
“London,” Francie said in wonder.
“Yes. London. Because Father wanted me to go to school,” she said, the words catching in her throat. Audrey touched her sister’s hair lovingly. “So, I can be of use to us. So, you must not concern yourself. You mustn’t worry. I’ll take care of us. I promise you. Do you believe I will take care of us?”
Frances didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Audrey put on a smile. “Well, then if you promise not to worry and you promise to trust me, I’ll give you a present.”
“A present?” Frances’ eyes lit up. “I do promise.”
Audrey gave her a look of mock sternness. “Do you?”
“Yes!”
“I don’t believe you,” Audrey teased her.
“I swear, Audrey. I do so promise.”
“Hmmm. Well, maybe—”
Frances huffed in exasperation. “Come, Audrey! I’m sincere. Give me my present.”
“Greedy goose!” Audrey said as she felt inside her dress pocket and pulled out the lamb. “Since you promise so solemnly, here is your present.”
Audrey handed the small wooden lamb to her sister. Frances gasped as she looked at the intricately carved lamb.
“Oh, Audrey! It’s beautiful. Thank you,” she said, smiling.
Audrey kissed her sister’s forehead. “You’re welcome. Now say your prayers and go to bed.”
“Good night, Audrey.”
“Good night, Lambkin.”
Audrey closed the door to her sister’s room and checked on her mother in the parlor. She had retired as well. She turned off the gaslights and went to her own room. A weight settled on her shoulders. Her young sister should not be burdened with their troubles. She should not have to worry about their rent, their livelihood, their circumstances. She was a child.
As a young woman of twenty-five, Audrey could shoulder the burden of her family’s troubles, and she would.
She was capable, and for the first time since her father died, she understood what the doctor had said all those weeks ago. She was strong. Her father had known it, the doctor had as well, and now she felt it. She would be the one to help keep their family afloat and sustain them. She must. There was no other option.
She picked up the day’s newspaper that lay on her desk and turned up the gas lamp next to her. She scanned the long row of advertisements, looking carefully at each one.
Wanted. Strong kitchen girl, able to bake, wash and feed calves; age not under 18.
Audrey sighed. She might be over eighteen years of age, but baking was not in her repertoire, and she had never milked a calf in her life. She scanned further down the page.
Wanted. In a first-class collegiate school, in the north, a governess, to teach music, singing and theory of music.
Audrey shook her head. She might be able to play the piano and sing reasonably well but not enough to teach in a collegiate school. The next one caught her attention.
Wanted. A respectable, steady young woman, about 24 years of age, as a servant of all work. She must be a good plain cook and have a twelvemonth’s character from her last situation. No Irish need apply.
Audrey sighed. It didn’t sound like a good fit at all. She could only cook a few dishes, porridge and tea being two of them, and she could provide a character reference from Dr. Thomson and Mr. Felton but nothing from her last situation, as she had never held a job. She moved along the column, tapping her pencil as she went.
Wanted in Gentlemen’s Family, a short distance from Hastings, a good parlor maid. She must be accustomed to the care of plate, glass and waiting at table. A thoroughly respectable, steady young woman, of religious character, desired.
Audrey shook her head. She had never been in service nor had she ever waited a table. No, that would not do. Next.
Wanted. In private family, short distance in the country, a neat tidy, young girl for light chamberwork and waiting at table.
No, thought Audrey. Her education and background were not suited to a chambermaid. She scanned along the column again.
WANTED – To take charge of three children. A Protestant woman (Scotch preferred), who is fully competent in all respects. Must have unexceptionable references, and willing to spend the Summer in the country.
Audrey circled that advertisement with her pencil. It gave the address of where to apply. She wondered what Dr. Thomson would make of it. She might be
suitable for this position, but there still remained the issue of her mother and sister.
Audrey heard the clock chime. It was getting late. It had been raining on and off that evening, but it had since stopped. It was quiet and still in the cottage, and she looked outside her bedroom window that had a view of the rose garden. Her father had loved his roses, she remembered sadly. He had said he felt closer to God more in his garden than in the church. He said roses were made by God for man to admire and behold his beauty.
She rubbed her neck. She was tired, and sleep was calling her. She changed into her nightgown, and after turning off the lamp, she went to bed.
Enoch Thomson settled into the cognac-colored chair and lit his pipe. He traveled only occasionally to London, and when he did, he always stayed at his club The Athenaeum. He liked his club because it was located on Pall Mall in central London and near everything.
The building was a handsome cream-colored structure with Grecian pillars dominating the entrance, taking its name from the Greek goddess of wisdom, Athena. The club contained an extensive library, a dining room, a drawing room on the first floor, a smoking room on the upper floor, and a suite of bedrooms. Often, if he had business to attend to in town, he could be pleasantly situated in the club and have everything he needed.
He thoughtfully sipped his Glenlivet Scotch and waited for his guest to arrive. Before he had left the village, he had thought long and hard about Audrey and the Wakefield family. He had been sad to hear that Ezra had not provided for his daughters and wife, and he had wondered how he could help them and, in particular, Audrey.
When she mentioned going to college again recently, he had been concerned. He had told her the truth about bringing her mother and sister with her. It was an obstacle. He knew of few homes that would allow it, if any. But his bigger concern had been placing her in a decent home. Many grand houses needed servants and help, but when it came to a girl as lovely as Audrey, he could well see the master of the house taking advantage of her and forcing her into a position that would not be respectable.
Among the Darkness Stirs Page 3