Unfortunately, he had heard of liaisons taking place where the master of the house, or the young master, took advantage of his position, and the end result did not end well for the woman. He knew of a young parlor maid who had gotten with child, and the young master of the house had been the father. The child was not acknowledged, and she was let go without references.
In another case, a young governess had caught the eye of the old master of the house, and it had caused a scandal. The old master was in his seventies and the governess barely twenty-three. The young woman gave birth to the baby and was shipped off to the country. Three years later when the old man died, the entire family turned their back on the girl and the child.
Enoch shook his head and took another sip of his whiskey. These stories were fodder for gossip and were talked about over brandy and cigars, but he didn’t want that for Audrey. After he had spoken to her and she had asked for his help, a thought had come to him, which had prompted his trip to London.
He had gone to university with a fine man named Samuel Ryland. Samuel had studied the law, been very adept, and set up a law practice in Norwich in East Anglia. They had remained friends, though mostly through correspondence, and every so often saw each other when they were both in London.
Enoch had valued their friendship, and though the two men were in different fields and in different cities, they remained close. Samuel had one son, Henry. Henry had followed his father into the study of law and joined his practice when his schooling had finished. Together, father and son continued to build a successful law practice in Norwich.
Enoch had met Henry several times over the years and had watched him grow into a mature, serious young man. When he had last spoken to Samuel, Henry had purchased land and was building a six-bedroom home on the bank of the River Yare. Samuel had said a young woman had caught his son’s eye and that he thought a wedding was on the horizon.
Besides the law practice, Henry had been elected to the Board of Governors. He oversaw the operation and business of the Poor Law Union, and he specifically worked with the Bowthorpe Road Workhouse in Norwich.
Samuel had often bragged about his only son. Henry wanted to better the lives of people in the workhouses by making sure they were treated fairly and humanely. Sadly, a year ago, Samuel had caught a chill and died soon after of pneumonia. Enoch had been saddened by the loss.
It had been his friendship with Samuel and his son, Henry, that had prompted his writing to the young man on a whim. He thought Henry might be able to offer Audrey a position in the workhouse or might know of others who were looking for a suitable, respectable woman. He had not mentioned Audrey in his letter as she had no experience, and he wanted to plead her case in person.
If he could see and speak to Henry Ryland in person, he knew he could convince him Audrey was worth the effort. Suddenly, he saw the steward showing a young man to the room and pointing at him.
He stood and greeted the man. “Henry, my boy!” he said, giving him a friendly handshake.
Henry addressed the man in return. “Enoch, it’s been some time.”
“Please. Have a seat.” He gestured to the chair across from him.
“Thank you.” Henry took the indicated chair.
“What are you drinking?” Enoch asked.
“I’ll have a whiskey.”
“Good man.” He ordered the drink from the steward, who then disappeared to fetch it. He looked over Henry Ryland and nodded to himself. He was a good-looking man with wavy brown hair and warm brown eyes. He was tall and wore a tailored sack suit with a wingtip collar and tie. The suit was well-made, and the length of the jacket and vest bespoke the fact that he was middle class or slightly above.
Henry crossed one leg over his knee. “I was pleased to receive your letter. My mother asked me to send her kind regards.”
“Dearest Theodocia. How is she? I’m sure your father’s death has not been easy. In fact, come to think of it, that’s the last time I saw you both. At the funeral.”
“I believe you’re right,” Henry agreed. “Mother is well. She keeps busy with her charity work.”
“She was always busy as I recall,” Enoch recalled. “She really was a lovely woman. Samuel used to say if we wanted to have the world run right, we should leave it to your mother.”
“She is a force,” Henry agreed and accepted the drink from the steward.
For several long moments, silence stretched between them. The crackling from the fireplace nearby was the only sound.
Henry spoke first. “You’ll forgive me, Enoch, but your letter was a bit vague so I’m unsure as to the purpose of our meeting.”
Enoch cleared his throat. “I didn’t want you to dismiss my letter outright before we had a chance to speak. I know you said the journey to London was already planned so I wasn’t putting you out. Nevertheless, I appreciate you seeing me.”
Henry leaned back in his seat. “Now you’ve piqued my interest. I’m intrigued. What do you wish to ask of me?”
“Do you still sit on the Board of Guardians, Henry?” Enoch asked as he took up his pipe.
“I do. I find the work there very important. I’ve been fortunate to have been elected several times over. We are elected annually,” he explained.
“Your father mentioned you oversee the Bowthorpe Road Workhouse,” he said.
“That’s right.” He nodded.
“Well, I’ll not beat about the bush.” Enoch leaned forward. “I am acquainted with a family. The Wakefields. Ezra Wakefield was the vicar of the small village near where I live. He was a good man and I enjoyed his company. Unfortunately, he died very recently.”
Sympathy shone in Henry’s eyes. “I’m sorry a good man is dead.”
Enoch was sorry, too. “He leaves behind a wife and two daughters.”
Henry studied him, perhaps catching on to what Enoch wanted to discuss. “I see.”
“I thought that, with your background and knowledge, I might recommend the eldest daughter as a member of the staff at Bowthorpe,” Enoch explained.
Henry frowned. “Staff at Bowthorpe? A vicar’s daughter? Surely, she isn’t qualified,” Henry wondered aloud.
Enoch rushed to explain. “Well, Audrey has no experience, but she was educated at Queen’s College in London as a governess.”
“Really?” Henry remarked, sounding surprised. “How unusual. Her father allowed that?”
Enoch took a sip of his drink. “He wanted it very much, as did she. They were extremely close.”
Henry pondered that for a moment, swirling the liquid in his glass. “What is this daughter, Audrey, like? The workhouse is not the place for sheltered young women. She might find it disagreeable.”
“She’s eager to be of use to her family and help support them. She will work hard. She’s well-read. I would not recommend her if I thought her not up for the task.” Enoch met his eye, trying to impart his sincerity.
Henry listened intently. “It’s actually extraordinary that you should bring this to my attention at this time. As it happens, we have advertised in the newspaper for a schoolmistress at Bowthorpe. We have received a few responses but no one has been selected.”
A surge of relief surged through Enoch. Maybe there was hope for Audrey after all. “How fortuitous. However, there is one thing that I want to bring to your attention. Ms. Wakefield would need to bring her sister and mother with her to the workhouse. I know certain staff live on-site at the workhouse and some don’t. If it works out and you approve of her, she would need to bring them along. Unfortunately, they have no one else.”
Henry pondered the words. “I’m intrigued. I would like to help this young woman and her family. I’m going to be staying in London for several weeks for business. Do you think you might arrange for Ms. Wakefield to come and see me? It would save her the journey of traveling to Norwich.”
Enoch jumped at the chance. “I’ll write to her at once. I’m sure she will be most pleased to meet with you.”
Henry
smiled. “We can make arrangements of where to meet.”
“This really is most kind of you, Henry. Most kind.” Enoch couldn’t wait to tell Audrey.
“Let’s say in a week and a half we will set the time and date to meet.”
Enoch shook the man’s hand. “This has been a very pleasant conversation. My spirits are lifted.”
Henry hesitated. “You understand I can’t promise anything, Enoch, but I will meet with her. I think that at least I can do. Her lack of experience does worry me. The children in the workhouse have been shuffled about and lack the basic necessities so she might not be a good fit.”
“She’s a special young lady, Henry. You’ll see. She’s intelligent and has a strong sense of herself. Although I daresay her father spoiled her a bit,” Enoch explained.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Henry remarked, standing. “A little love and coddling are good for the soul. I must dash, but I look forward to meeting Ms. Wakefield.”
They shook hands once more and parted ways.
Chapter Four
Henry Ryland took the hansom cab from Enoch’s club to his own, the Savage Club. As a solicitor by trade, just as his father, both had belonged to the club, and he enjoyed its bohemian atmosphere of journalists and writers. The Savage Club members were classified into one of six categories that best described their main interests. The six categories were art, music, drama, literature, science, and law. The Savage Club had several notable members, including Prince Albert and leading man and stage actor Henry Irving.
The cab rumbled along the road, and Henry thought about the conversation he had just had with Enoch Thomson. He had received the doctor’s letter and been intrigued. It had been deliberately vague, asking if he was planning to be in London in the near future. He had written back that, as a matter of fact, he was to journey there shortly, and Enoch asked to meet him.
He thought of the vicar’s daughter teaching children in the workhouse and imagined Ms. Wakefield as a small figure with large eyes behind her wire spectacles. No doubt she read much and had the need of spectacles, he reasoned. Her hair would be pulled back and pinned into a low bun and her face small and unassuming.
He took his duties as a board guardian very seriously, and filling the role of schoolmistress was extremely important. The workhouse children needed someone who was not only dependable but educated so that for whatever amount of time they spent in the workhouse, it would be useful to them.
Ms. Wakefield might not have the experience that was usually required, but she had an excellent education from Queen’s College and a character reference from Dr. Enoch Thomson.
He reasoned that it would not hurt to meet the small, bespectacled Wakefield woman and see if she had anything to recommend herself. If she did, he would be able to sway the other board members. He got along well with most of them, and those who disagreed could be turned in his favor. He only wished he could speak to his mother on the matter before he met the vicar’s daughter.
Theodocia Ryland had always been involved in his life on a level most mothers were not. She took great interest in his schooling and the law, and when he had followed his father into the law firm, she kept the books for the firm and gave advice to father and son alike.
Henry was grateful. She was a voice of supreme reason, and he admired her greatly. They had always seen eye to eye on almost everything, except when she had watched a growing attraction between him and Della Keene. His mother had not been pleased with the seriousness between them, and when Henry had invited Della over for a light supper, his mother had been accommodating but very cool to the young woman.
At the time, Henry had thought himself in love and wanted to marry Della. But it had not gone as he had hoped. He sighed as the carriage slowed and shook himself away from the memories. He must not think of Della or dwell on the past. It was water under the bridge now.
Audrey reread the letter several times and then showed it to her mother at the breakfast table.
“Dr. Thomson is in London and has asked you to join him there? It says he has a plan to help you seek employment.” Augusta looked up to meet her eyes. “I don’t understand, Audrey.”
Audrey filled her mother in on her visit to Dr. Thomson and her asking for his help.
Augusta pursed her lips. “I’m not sure I agree with going behind my back and telling Dr. Thomson of our troubles.”
“Mother,” Audrey said softly, “I didn’t go behind your back. And everyone in the village knows that father is dead and that we’ve lost our income.”
Augusta stiffened. “I don’t approve of idle gossip.”
Audrey quickly tried to head off her mother’s anger. “We aren’t the subject of gossip. It’s just chatter. As to my seeking out help from Dr. Thomson, I thought he might have an idea of how I might earn employment.”
“Earn employment?” Augusta’s eyes widened, and she looked from Audrey to Frances seated next to her.
“Surely you knew that would be the next step. I must earn a living for us,” Audrey reasoned.
August reared back as if struck. “It’s scandalous!”
“Mother, it is not.” Audrey tried to hold her tongue and her temper, but it was getting more difficult.
“No one woman has ever worked in my family before,” she said.
“Fine,” Audrey snapped, her eyes flashing. “Then contact your family and ask them for help. If not, let me journey to London to speak to Dr. Thomson and his plan for us.”
Augusta sputtered. “How dare you!”
Warmth crept up into Audrey’s cheeks. “I dare because I seem to be the only one in this family looking for logical solutions to keep us solvent!”
“Solvent?” her mother asked.
“Yes. I don’t mean to be harsh, but we are running out of time. And if you don’t think about it, I must. I don’t want us to be beggars on the streets, and with my education, I believe I can earn a living for us,” Audrey told her.
Frances looked back and forth between her mother and sister and wisely said nothing.
“Whatever plan Dr. Thomson has for me, it must be something reasonable, else he would not summon me to London. I can take the morning train and be back after supper,” she told her mother.
Augusta was silent for a long moment before she finally spoke. “I’m not ignorant of our situation, Audrey. I understand my husband and his living are gone. If I’m honest, I’ve been too much inside my own grief. I do appreciate you looking out for us. I see now that I have lived a certain kind of life and that may change.”
Audrey covered her mother’s hands with her own. “We may have to make changes. I’m not happy about that either. But we will be together. You and Francie are everything to me.”
“I’ll see if Mrs. Jones can watch Frances for the day, and I’ll come with you so you won’t be alone,” Augusta said, squeezing Audrey’s hands lightly. Mrs. Jones was the quiet woman who lived at the end of their lane.
“Thank you, Mother. I’d like that.”
“Then it’s settled. Write Dr. Thomson and agree to the day and time he mentioned. I’ll check the train time tables.”
“Dr. Thomson has been gracious to help us. But whatever plan he might have, I can always say no. I’ve been looking at the advertisements in the newspaper. There are many things I might be able to do.” She tried to sound upbeat and positive, even though the advertisements had not been as plentiful as she led them to believe.
“You can do many things, Audrey. You are very capable,” Frances chimed in finally.
“Am I?” Audrey asked at her sister and then her mother.
“Father said so. Didn’t he, Mama?”
Augusta put her napkin away. “Come. Let’s get to your studies,” she said to Frances.
She left the dining room with Frances trailing behind her. She came up to her sister and hugged her around the neck. “You really can do anything. I believe in you.”
She was gone a moment later, and Audrey felt a lump i
n her throat. Her sister’s words meant a great deal to her. She must not let them down.
The train ride from the village to London took a little longer than an hour. Audrey traveled it often when she attended Queen’s College. Though she had lodgings at the college, she went home to see her family every month.
She settled back into the seat and looked out the window at the passing countryside. The green grass and lushness of Kent receded as the metropolitan bustle that made up the great city of London came into view.
Her mother had wanted to accompany her, but last night Frances had come down with a fever and she did not want to leave her side. Audrey agreed and set out to meet Dr. Thomson by herself.
She felt comfortable in the metropolitan city and enjoyed seeing the familiar sights so she had not been anxious to travel alone. She had wanted her mother to come with her for different reasons. She wanted to show her mother that she was capable and she would make certain their family would not struggle but prosper.
She fussed with her black gloves and smoothed down the skirt of her dress. She wore a sheer black veil. She could see out, but she worried she might trip or stumble about when she entered the hustle and bustle of London traffic.
The train guard came down the aisle and announced, “Bromley,” and nodded at her respectfully.
She looked out the window and clasped her hands in her lap. Her small purse contained a little bit of coin and her train ticket, and she held it tightly in her grasp. She wondered what Dr. Thomson had discovered for her. Maybe there was a family that needed a governess and they would let her bring along her mother and sister.
Maybe he found her a position in a department store that suited her. She wasn’t sure if a store would provide her enough income to survive unless she rented rooms for the three of them. But department stores usually had their unmarried women employees live in dormitories above the store.
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