His Brother's Wife

by Val Wood

  She rang the bell for Alice to come up. ‘Tea, please,’ she said when the girl knocked and came in. ‘And will you fill my bath tub?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ Alice gazed at her mistress. Her nightdress was fine and flimsy, and as she stood by the window Alice could see her slim shape quite clearly beneath it.

  ‘I heard the cuckoo,’ Melissa said. ‘Did you hear it, Alice? It’s the forebringer of summer, did you know that?’

  ‘I know it’s a summer bird, ma’am. A big grey one.’

  ‘That’s the male.’ Melissa continued to gaze out of the window. ‘He’s the one who sings.’ Without turning her head, she repeated, ‘Tea, please, Alice.’

  I wonder why he sings so loudly, she thought. And so joyously; and why doesn’t the female? Or maybe she does but we just don’t hear her. She sighed and went back to sit on her bed and wait for the tea. Or perhaps, she thought, the female doesn’t have as much to sing about as he does.

  Christopher had gone to London at the weekend to bring Amy back from her travels and would be home tomorrow after spending some time with his sister-in-law and her husband. He’d wanted Melissa to go with him but she had declined, knowing that Amy would want to have her father to herself on the journey home, so that she could tell him everything that had happened during the months she had been away.

  Melissa also wanted time to herself, to get used to the idea of having Amy with them again. She hoped that the girl would have grown up and no longer be the spoilt daughter she had been, although Melissa admitted to herself that following their shopping spree together before Amy left for London the atmosphere had been easier. Perhaps, she thought, I too was to blame for always treating her as a child, when in fact she was verging on womanhood.

  She had also hoped that during Amy’s absence, when both she and Christopher were more relaxed, she might have become pregnant. But that hadn’t happened.

  As she sat in bed waiting for Alice to come back, her thoughts wandered to Harriet Tuke. I think I might take a trip to the kitchen to see her. Or no – I’ll ask her to come up. She won’t talk so easily in front of the other servants. I’ll find out if she is pregnant, and if she is – Melissa rested her head on the pillow – will she tell me how she managed it so quickly?

  When Alice told her that her bath was ready and helped her to step into it, Melissa asked casually, ‘Is Harriet Tuke here today?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am, she is, it’s her day for doing ’washing. Mary’s here too.’

  ‘Will you ask her to come up when she has a minute? I want to thank her for her ironing.’

  Alice looked surprised, but answered that Harriet took a break at about half past nine and that she could come up then.

  ‘Oh, I don’t want to interfere with her routine. When she has finished will do.’

  It was lunchtime when Harriet knocked on Mrs Hart’s sitting-room door. She came in when Melissa called ‘Enter’, looking hot and flushed.

  ‘Mrs Tuke – Harriet, come in.’ Melissa was sitting by the window, and a soft breeze was ruffling her hair. ‘You look very warm. Come here by the window and catch the breeze. Won’t you sit down?’ She indicated a chair which she had placed strategically opposite her.

  ‘Thank you, ma’am.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Melissa said. ‘I’ve interrupted your day; you probably want to get off home, but I wanted to thank you personally for the beautiful ironing.’

  ‘That’s all right, ma’am. I’m in no hurry to get back.’

  ‘No? Will your husband not be waiting for his midday meal?’

  ‘His mother’s there. She’ll have everything ready for him as usual.’ But they won’t have any conversation, Harriet thought, he’ll simply eat and go out again.

  ‘Oh dear, so will you miss your lunch – erm – dinner? You must have something here before you leave.’

  ‘I’ve eaten, ma’am. Cook generally gives me a slice of bread and beef. I hope that’s all right?’ Harriet suddenly wondered if feeding casual workers was allowed. ‘I didn’t have much as I wasn’t hungry.’

  ‘No? After all that washing and ironing?’

  Harriet smiled. ‘I’m ironing in ’morning, ma’am. Except for the personal things, which I’ve done already. I like to do them while they’re still damp.’

  ‘I see. Do you not find it very tiring? I saw you arrive this morning and I thought you seemed a little weary.’

  Harriet was taken aback. She hadn’t thought that she would be seen from the house so early in the day. ‘I stopped to look at your roses, ma’am. They smell lovely.’

  ‘They do, don’t they?’ Melissa agreed. ‘I’m so pleased that I managed to get my own way over having them. So, you weren’t too tired? It isn’t too early for you to come to work?’

  What’s she getting at, Harriet wondered. Why’s she brought me up here? ‘I’m used to being up early,’ she told her. ‘It’s what I’ve allus done; when you work for a living it’s what you have to do otherwise you wouldn’t keep a job, and just because I’m – just because – I’m sometimes a bit tired of a morning …’

  Her voice trailed away. It’s not just because I’m pregnant, she thought. It’s because there’s no light in my life now that Fletcher’s gone.

  ‘Harriet,’ Melissa said softly, ‘it’s all right. I guessed that you might be expecting a child. Am I right?’ and at Harriet’s silent acquiescence, she said, ‘You don’t have to worry. Your position here is perfectly safe.’

  Harriet wiped her eyes, which had suddenly become moist. ‘Thank you, ma’am. I’ll keep on working for as long as I can, though I’ll have to stop after I’ve given birth, Noah says.’

  Melissa’s lips parted. ‘Well, I can see that your husband might think it difficult, but what do women do when they have children and need to work to earn money?’

  ‘In town they have child minders, but I’d never do that. Not all of them can be trusted with other people’s bairns – children.’

  ‘I see.’ Melissa thought for a moment and then said, ‘Well, we’ll talk about it again, but if he were willing, I don’t see why you shouldn’t bring the child with you, say to the ironing room? Obviously not the washhouse, as it might not be healthy for a child, but if we had a crib or a basket in the ironing room, might not that be all right?’

  Harriet couldn’t understand her. She had thought she was going to be dismissed; was there some other reason why Mrs Hart had brought her upstairs? ‘It might be, ma’am. I’ll ask him, but not yet. I’d have to time it right.’

  ‘Of course.’ Melissa smiled. ‘It doesn’t do to let our husbands know all our little wiles, does it?’

  Harriet hadn’t heard the term before, but she understood perfectly that she would have to choose her moment carefully to mention to Noah that she’d like to go back to working at the manor after the birth.

  ‘It – erm, it hasn’t taken long for you to conceive,’ Melissa said cautiously. ‘Forgive me for being so forthright, but I long for a child and have not yet had the good fortune. I sometimes think that perhaps I never will.’

  ‘It’s not allus the woman’s fault,’ Harriet said abruptly. ‘Men blame them, but they’re the ones who supply ’seed and not all seed grows.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Melissa said softly, but then thought that as Christopher already had a daughter it must be her.

  ‘My husband thought I was barren,’ Harriet said bitterly. ‘He expected me to get caught straight away after ’first time.’ She gave a dry exclamation. ‘Some farmer he is!’

  ‘So,’ Melissa leaned forward. ‘Erm, forgive me,’ she murmured again. ‘But how often do you think …’ She put her fingers to her mouth. How could she possibly ask, and of a servant of all people? But then this servant would know the answer better than anyone else she knew.

  ‘Four months!’ Harriet declared passionately. ‘Four months, and every night, sometimes twice in a night, bar ’time when I was on ’flux, I had to put up wi’ him astride me.’ Her eyes were fierce as
they met Melissa’s. ‘Even if you loved a man, that’s almost too much to bear, but far worse if you know you’re onny there to relieve his carnal desires and give him a child.’

  Melissa was shocked by Harriet’s openness and apparent resentment, even though she had wanted to know. ‘Do you not love your husband?’

  ‘It was a marriage of convenience, ma’am,’ Harriet muttered, knowing she had spoken too freely. Then she murmured, ‘Mebbe I’m wrong, mebbe if there’s love between you, you’d want to – to …’ She wanted to say hold someone in your arms each night, but she had said too much already and didn’t want to give away the secret longing that she wished she had run away with Fletcher, pregnant or not.

  Every night, Melissa thought. Every night! Christopher comes to my bed once a week, and then he treats me with such care and tenderness, as if he doesn’t want to hurt me. Is that why I don’t conceive? Is our timing wrong – or is it not often enough?

  ‘I’m sorry you appear to be unhappy,’ she said quietly. ‘I thought it would be a time of great rejoicing.’

  ‘So did I, ma’am,’ Harriet murmured. ‘And so it should be. Perhaps when I hold this child for ’first time I might feel differently, and if it’s a son my husband will be pleased. But if it’s not …’ She gave a little shudder at the prospect of the nightly assault on her body. ‘If it’s not, then we’ll have to start all over again.’

  Melissa watched Harriet from her window as she walked back down the drive. ‘Poor woman,’ she murmured. ‘Why did she marry him? Did she think he was her last chance? Did she want the security of marriage, and if so, was it worth the unhappiness she is obviously suffering now?’

  She recalled the day, months ago, when she and Christopher had watched Harriet and the other Tuke son walk away together and she’d joked about the gap between them. Then she began to wonder whether Harriet had discovered she’d married the wrong brother.

  How silly and romantic you are, Melissa, she chided. You’re too old for such girlish thoughts. Nevertheless, she gave a little smile and went to her lingerie drawer, where after lingering over virgin white, soft cream and romantic rose she drew out a pale green nightgown of fine silk and a matching satin chemise, the colour of life and fertility, and draped them across her bed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Amy had been away almost six months. No one had thought it would be so long. She had enjoyed the London season, going to parties and balls with her aunt and cousins, and then when the winter became wet and dreary the whole household, apart from Amy’s uncle Gerald, had packed up to travel to Switzerland, where they enjoyed the winter sunshine until they returned to London in April.

  ‘We’ve missed you, Amy,’ Melissa said sincerely. ‘It has been a long time, and you’ve grown up whilst you’ve been away.’

  ‘I missed you both too,’ Amy said. Her eyes showed Melissa that she hadn’t missed them very much, but it was sweet of her to say so. ‘But it’s been wonderful,’ Amy went on, ‘and the time passed so quickly.’

  Amy and Melissa were in the sitting room, Christopher having gone to have a word with the bailiff, and it almost felt, Melissa thought, as if Amy might be a visiting relative as she looked round the room or got up to gaze out of the window.

  ‘The rose beds look lovely,’ Amy said. ‘Were you planning those before I went away?’

  ‘We’d discussed them, don’t you remember?’

  ‘Vaguely.’ Amy came to sit down again, sighing as she did so.

  ‘So, did you make any new friends?’ Melissa asked. ‘Did you meet any handsome young men?’

  Amy looked at her and then glanced at the door. She dropped her voice. ‘I did, as a matter of fact.’ She raised her eyebrows and smiled. ‘Lots!’

  ‘Oh, lucky girl.’ Then, conspiratorially, ‘Anyone special?’ A shadow of distrust crossed Amy’s face, and Melissa blamed herself for assuming they were bosom friends and not stepmother and daughter. ‘Or perhaps it’s too soon to talk about it?’ she added swiftly.

  Amy hesitated, and then said, ‘It is too soon, but when you met Papa, how long was it before you knew that you wanted to marry him?’

  ‘Oh, immediately!’ Melissa said at once, thinking, Heavens, the child is in love. But then she looked at Amy, sitting starry-eyed, and realized that she was no longer a child. She’s as old as I was when Alfred and I were planning to marry. ‘I fell in love with your father at our first meeting. I don’t know if I ever told you, but I was engaged to be married to a childhood sweetheart when I was about your age. Our parents expected us to marry, and we were good friends and very fond of each other, but he died just months before our wedding day, and it wasn’t until I met your father that I realized I hadn’t been in love with Alfred at all.’ Amy was watching her intently, her lips slightly parted. ‘Which,’ Melissa concluded, ‘is most unusual for people like us.’ Gently, she added, ‘We are expected to make suitable marriages and come to love our husbands or wives over time, as the years go by.’

  ‘That’s what Aunt Deborah told me,’ Amy said, ‘when I said I wanted to marry for love. She said young ladies should look for respectability and security, and . . . that that was what Mama would have wanted for me.’

  ‘Did she?’ Melissa was astonished. ‘How very conventional of her. I didn’t know that she was so very proper. I hadn’t been given that impression at all.’

  ‘Well, she didn’t appear to be until – until …’ Amy wavered. ‘I met someone I rather liked. We danced together and talked quite a lot and Aunt Deborah thought it rather forward of us both. I think that was why when we went to Switzerland we stayed away longer than I expected.’

  ‘Your aunt would have felt responsible for you, Amy,’ Melissa explained. ‘It’s not easy looking after someone else’s daughter.’ She hadn’t thought of what she was saying until Amy looked at her and then away. ‘I’m sorry. Please don’t misunderstand me,’ she added quickly.

  ‘I don’t,’ Amy said. ‘And I realize now how difficult I must have been. I didn’t want Papa to love anyone but me. I was so afraid of losing him, especially after I’d lost Mama.’ She smiled at Melissa. ‘But now I know that I too can find someone to love, just as Papa found you.’

  At supper, Amy regaled them with the tales of where she had been, the sights she had seen in London, the clothes she had bought for the various balls and dances she had attended.

  ‘I’ve spent quite a lot of money, Papa,’ she said blithely, ‘but Aunt Deborah said she was sure you wouldn’t mind. And by the way, Melissa, they loved the clothes I took with me, and said they had no idea there was anything worth buying out of London.’ She giggled, and they both saw the child still hidden there as she added, ‘I told a slight white lie when I said you and I often went shopping together in Hull and York. My cousins were quite jealous, I think, because they are only allowed to shop with their mother or a maid.’

  Melissa felt a great weight lifting from her shoulders and she thought that Christopher felt the same as he smiled at his daughter’s chatter. When he asked if she had met anyone interesting, Amy glanced at Melissa and said, ‘Lots of people, Papa, lots and lots. I was wondering if perhaps some time during the summer, if you’re not too busy, we could have a house party and invite my aunt and my cousins and a few other people too?’

  When he said it was a splendid idea, she took a huge breath and beamed.

  That night, as they prepared for bed, Melissa whispered to Christopher that she wanted him to come to her. ‘You don’t have to get up early in the morning, do you?’ she murmured.

  Whilst he changed in his dressing room she slipped into her silk nightgown and chemise, and stood by the window looking out.

  ‘Come here,’ she said softly when he returned to the bedroom. ‘Look at the garden, how beautiful it looks.’

  He came to stand beside her and kissed her cheek. ‘Not as beautiful as you,’ he said. ‘What perfume are you wearing?’

  She turned to him. ‘It’s the roses,’ she whispered. ‘They a
lways smell lovely on the night air.’ She reached up to kiss his mouth. ‘I missed you whilst you were away,’ she murmured, ‘and I’m so happy that you’re home again.’

  He stroked her face. ‘So am I, and I think that Amy is pleased to be home.’

  ‘She is,’ she agreed. ‘But we’ll speak of Amy tomorrow. Tonight is our time.’

  He ran his hands down the silky gown to her waist, her hips and her thighs, and felt her response. She whispered something in his ear.

  ‘Now?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘Now.’

  He slipped the chemise from her shoulders and lifted her nightgown, drawing it over her body so that she stood naked before him. ‘Melissa!’ he murmured, dropping the silk to the floor, but she put her hand over his mouth.

  ‘Don’t speak,’ she whispered. ‘Not a word, except to say that you love me.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Harriet was no longer required in Noah’s bed once she had told him of her pregnancy, and as soon as she began to put on weight she asked him if perhaps she should sleep in Fletcher’s room so as to give him more space.

  ‘Aye,’ Noah said. ‘Do that. You disturb me anyway wi’ your tossing and turning all night.’

  She hadn’t been aware that she’d been restless, although her early morning sickness had woken him and he’d turned away in disgust as she retched over the chamber pot.

  Now, though, that was over and done with, and although the room was only small she was happy to be in Fletcher’s bed, to feel the hollow in the mattress he had carved out with his body and to let her thoughts fly to how it would be if he were lying next to her.