Parthena's Promise

by Holmes, Valerie

  “Food for the young, miss?” the serving woman asked, as she held forward a pewter plate on which something resembling stewed pork and turnip had been poured. It looked warm, not enticing, but it was sustenance after all.

  “Thank you.” He took it. For a moment Jerome stood there holding her bag in one hand and the plate of food in the other. He shook his head and carried both back up the stairs. He had intended to teach her a lesson, but those beautiful eyes had moistened and, despite her brave efforts, she had cried. He could not do it. Whatever wrong she had done him, another wrong added did not make his actions right. Instead he returned to her, rather than let her fear any more.

  He dropped the bag to open the door. As it opened wide, Miss Munro stood with a blanket wrapped around her. He could not but admire her. She was beautiful; she would have been a total waste as a mill-worker or even as a governess.

  “This is for you.” He pushed the bag inside the room with his foot and placed the plate on the small table at the side of the window. Then he dragged the tub onto the landing where it could be seen to without them being disturbed further. Before stepping back into the room he slipped downstairs, returning with a bottle of wine and two glasses. It was time for them to talk honestly and for him to help her.

  Jerome found her checking her bag. She had slipped her day dress on, an ice blue muslin gown that complemented her eyes and her fair hair. That hair hung loose over her shoulders, still slightly damp, but as it dried the blonde wisps only added to the ethereal impression of the faerie he had first seen in the night.

  “You are quite beautiful, Miss Munro,” he said, and placed the wine and the glasses down on the table also.

  “I don’t know what you want of me, or to do with me, but please let us be honest with each other, as flattery will not soften the blow. Just state what terms you are offering me, if any, for the wrong I have done you to be righted. I know you could have me hanged for I am guilty and I have no defence I can make that will stand in law.” She was holding her hands in front of her, turning one anxiously with the other as if to steady them. They were shaking and he saw in that moment how truly scared she was of him, of her plight and of her own stupidity. It was then Jerome knew what he wanted for her and him, but how to win it without her feeling obligated or in fear of him? He had never threatened a woman, and he had no intention of starting now, but she had to truly understand the gravity of what she had done.

  “You are bold and brave as well as misguided in your judgement.” Jerome lifted the chair over so that she could sit at the small table. He poured the wine and took his and sat purposefully back on the bed against the headboard so he did not crowd her, and sipped his drink, glad of its soothing taste. He was pleasantly surprised that it was quite mellow. Definitely French, he thought. Jerome wondered when the inn’s cellars had last been checked for contraband. Perhaps it was liquor that was not served to the local soldiers, unless they were taking a cut as well, of course.

  “You were in a dire situation, Miss Munro. What you did was wrong, very wrong though, as you now realise,” he said, watching her poke her food with the spoon.

  “Yes, I do,” she replied without looking back at him.

  “Then let us look into the circumstances that forced your hand, whilst you eat. For I have no wish to have you hanged, pilloried or even chastened for your crime. From this moment on we shall only talk about what drove you to it and what will be an end to your dilemma. I give you my word on it.”

  Her head shot up. “You do not intend to…” She swallowed.

  “I am not a destroyer of young maids in any form of the word. I would gain little by throwing you to the wolves who would relish having you at their mercy inside a gaol. Neither would I stoop so low as to take advantage of a young lady who has fallen on hard times. So, having established those two facts, please trust me, and tell me about this cousin of yours, but eat as well as talk and enjoy the wine, for it is quite pleasant.”

  “Thank you,” Thena replied, and smiled for the first time in his vision. He saw her composure change and the frightened wench transformed into a more relaxed beautiful woman. Jerome had a heart to win over – hers – for, as he sipped his wine, his thoughts returned to the notion of having a wife with whom he could build a future, and before him he seriously considered the possibility that fate may have brought her to him.

  The warmth that swept through his body was not only of the wine’s making, but the small kindling of some strange emotion that grew in his heart. A soldier’s heart had returned from the wars and he felt alive again – he actually felt a glimmer of joy. Jerome had no time for the words of Byron that turned maids’ heads as well as married women who should know better. He smiled at her. Jerome knew the words he wanted to say to the right person at the correct moment were simply, “I love you, be my wife.”

  Thena still looked slightly nervously over to him; he had found what he sought; now he had to convince the young lady that what she had also found was him.

  Chapter 7

  “Parthena.” He spoke again only after she had finished her meal.

  “Thena, please.” She looked at him. “You have every right to call me that. If we are to be friends then I would have you know me by the name one would call me.”

  “Only if you wish it,” he said.

  “Yes, I do.”

  Her smile was infectious. “Very well, now tell me more of this Mr Bertram Munro, who sent you away.”

  “Cousin Bertram had been to York three months earlier and had met up with some friends, the Park-Hamiltons. They were well connected as he had met Archibald at Cambridge and said he had bumped in to him from time to time in Boodles in Pall Mall when he was in London. They were to meet me off the coach, but no one was there. I waited, but still no one came, so after an hour I made enquires and managed to find their town house.”

  “I suspect Bertram already knew that you were going to miss these people who were to employ you. If he had met him three months earlier, then the man would surely have mentioned that in less than a month he was moving abroad.” He shook his head, distracted at the realisation that was dawning upon him. This Bertram wanted shot of his charge and cared not how he lost her.

  “How do you know how long it was since they left…? Mr Fender?” she asked. Thena tucked her hands around her knees, balancing her feet on the edge of the bed.

  To Jerome she looked a vision as she was totally hooked by his words. When fear left, her persona changed and he could sense her inner calm.

  “Otherwise, why ever would he have sent you away without a chaperone, with no person to turn to?” He leaned forward and placed his empty glass on the table next to hers.

  “Bertram had intended to come with me, or that is what he told me, but then his gout played up and he was unable to travel. Then Reverend Dilworth offered to see me to the coach. He stayed long enough to make sure that I was seated safely and waved me off.”

  “Or, perhaps he just made sure you left on it,” Jerome added, deep in thought.

  “But he is a good man, my father trusted Reverend Dilworth, he had been in the parish for more than fifteen years.” She turned her chair to face him.

  “Who knows what tempts men,” he commented without making further accusation. He needed facts.

  “Can I ask you… did you mean what you said earlier?” she asked him directly, her cheeks flushed slightly giving her slight embarrassment away.

  “About helping you – yes.” He swung his legs onto the floor so that he was sitting opposite her, their knees almost touching. “I will not report you, my word on it. Now, you must put that behind us, as I have.”

  “No, I thank you for that and I accept your word on it. No, I was referring to your comment earlier – what you meant when you said that I would be flattering myself to think that a gentleman such as you would want to touch a person such as me?” Her confidence had grown for she was staring directly at him, yet still he found her in a beguiling and impressionable way. Sh
e honestly wished to know.

  Jerome took her hand in his and lightly held it. She did not pull it away.

  “I wish only to know what you meant… I’m not offering…” Thena tried to pull her hand out of his but he gently held on to it.

  “I meant to offend you; it was beneath me, and it appears I have succeeded. Forgive me that one ill thought-out comment, for it was a cruel slight and could not be further from what I actually wanted to do. Believe me, you are a beautiful lady and one that I suspect has been wronged, morally, if not legally. So I have arranged for us to stay here one more night so that we may catch the York coach tomorrow. From there we will visit your cousin and see what he has to say to you when you return to him, unannounced and unharmed.” He smiled, for a game was afoot, which would certainly detain him from visiting his mother just yet.

  “How will I explain your presence?” Thena asked curiously.

  “You will not. For I intend to call upon your cousin as a visitor, after I have collected some more facts. You will say that the family had left, as he presumably knew they had, and that you were generously provided with the ticket for the coach by your old friends at the abbey. Make no further embellishment of the story, because when the truth is to be bent, it is safer to bend it in the fewest words. That way lies cannot be determined and unpicked so easily.”

  He saw her lift her face and smile at him again. “Thank you,” she said, and then asked, “What will I do then, once back in the house?”

  “I suggest that you behave as if you are quite upset by the ordeal, ill even. Take to your bed for a day to rest from your journeying and then spend time indoors out of his way, whilst I make my arrival. I should only be a day or so before I join you. Time will pass with ease. If you should have access to his study whilst he is out of the house, perhaps you could delve a little into his papers and see what his letters can reveal of his plans. Do you know if your father left a will or did your cousin inherit as he died intestate?” Jerome asked.

  “I was told that none was found, but I did not believe this to be the case as Father was always so meticulous about his business dealings. However, he would have left the estate to my cousin, or my husband if I was married, of that I am certain.” She looked away, then boldly back at him. “He did not think that ladies were made to cope with the fine detail of business,” she added.

  He half smiled. “No matter, we have some facts to find out and digging around to do. Do not mention me, or what you did. That is between us. It is forgotten; now we find out what motive this cousin of yours has for wanting you out of his way. Do you know who dealt with your father’s legal affairs?” he asked hopefully.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “He never involved me in anything like that. Even when Mother was alive he was meticulous about keeping anything to do with his affairs away from the family. He strongly believed that ladies should not have to worry over such things,” she said and laughed. “The thing is, what he could never understand was that we worry more through the not knowing anything of such details.”

  “Many men do, but I take your point as a very valid one. It is always the unknown that distresses people more.”

  “Mr Fender…”

  “Jerome,” he offered.

  “Very well, Jerome, why would you do all this for me?” she asked.

  “Because, Thena, I believe in justice as well as enforcing the law of the land. I am for reform, Thena. I do not see why a person should be hanged for the theft of a crust of bread to feed their starving family, their crime being treated the same as someone who stole ten pounds. Circumstances should be taken into account as well as the crime. There are more people like me who are trying to change harsh laws. So, Thena, you have told me what had befallen you, and I accept the truth of it, so are we to be friends?” he asked.

  Parthena felt so ashamed that she had stooped so low as to become a common thief and could not be more grateful that Mr Jerome Fender was a just gentleman.

  “I think we already are. You are certainly being a far better friend to me than I have been to you. I shamed myself and…”

  He leaned forward as he stood and gently kissed her forehead as he straightened up. “That is in the past. Now let us focus on the future. We stay here one more night and leave on the morning coach. No fear is needed, you are safe. You shall sleep under the covers and I on top. It is our business and no one else will know. I am a practical man, that is all, and you will be safer in a room with me than one on your own in such a place as this.”

  Thena watched as he carried the tray outside the room and left it on the floor for the girl to collect. Returning to her, he stared out of the small window that overlooked the stable yard. “I have a horse to see to. Would you care to join me and we shall explore the town of Gorebeck and perhaps find you a new pair of boots. You have all but destroyed those on your cross moor adventure.”

  She looked down at her feet. They were a sorry sight even though the nuns had tried to resurrect her boots, especially when seen next to the finer quality of her dress.

  “I owe you so much already, Jerome,” she offered.

  “Perhaps, but it is of no consequence. Fate has brought us together, Thena, so let us not fight that and instead work together to unravel the knot of deception. I suspect that is what your cousin has formed, and do not forget, I am a man of law. I shall unravel his knots, see you have what is your right to have, and if anyone needs bringing to justice, I think it will be him.”

  “But have you nothing else you should be doing? Are you not a busy man? You gain nothing from all of this,” Thena commented, and saw a slow smile cross his handsome face.

  “I was busy at war – I am no longer. I should be returning to my dear mama who will be so wanting to see me settled down in a legal practice, with a society wife positioned in a respectable home. So you are quite wrong, for I believe I have much to gain by doing the correct thing by you.”

  Thena stood and pulled on her pelisse. “Then I have been fortunate indeed.”

  Chapter 8

  Thena stood before the old grit-stone Jacobean building. Leaham Hall had been in her family for two generations and had been her father’s pride and joy. His grandfather had saved the life of a lord, and in his gratitude that lord had left one of his estates to him along with a legacy that would be able to keep it going. The legacy, what happened to it? Why was she so easily cast off? Her father’s greatest sorrow had been his inability to beget a son and heir, but he had always been a loving, caring father to her and never begrudged her anything. Thena did not consider for one moment it was possible that he would not look to her future also. He knew that his heart was weakening and had had time to prepare them, so why would he not leave a will. She swallowed back unshed tears, for this was her home no more, and now she had to face the man – a stranger to her, who had planned her fall. Thena’s anger stopped her from giving in to melancholy. Instead she raised her head high as she walked up to the door of the building that should have been the entrance to her home, and paused. Should she knock or enter? Then she smiled; she would be damned if she was going to knock on her own door. Thena turned the large iron handle and swung the door open wide before walking boldly in, dropping her bag on the floor inside the hallway.

  Elsie Hubbart, the upper house maid, was the first person that Thena saw as she scuttled from the servants’ stairs toward the day room.

  “Hubbart!” Thena snapped. She had not intended to give the woman a fright, but if she had seen a ghost the effect upon her could not have been less dramatic.

  “Miss Munro!” The woman almost ran to her. “It is so good to see you here, miss, but I was not expecting you.” The woman took Thena’s pelisse off her as she spoke. “Are you on your own? Is Reverend Dilworth with you?” She looked around, staring down the Hall’s gardens to the ornate iron gates that marked its entrance and separated it from the village beyond. The drive led to the main road and the market square of the small village of Leaham. It was a fairly secluded pla
ce and pretty as a picture in Thena’s eyes. Unlike the harsher reality of the market town she had just left, this place was like a haven – unspoilt and simple.

  “No, he is not.” Thena was not about to begin explaining what was happening to a servant. “Take my bag to my room. I hope my trunk has not been sent on already. It was supposed to be forwarded when I wrote to my cousin letting him know that all was well and I had arrived safely.” Thena now realised that he was most likely going to keep what small treasures she had of her life here, as that letter would never arrive. Instead it would tell of a desperate woman who had resorted to God knew what existence in order to survive. Once fallen, in any respect, he could cast her off and no one would want to know her – well, none of their previous acquaintances. She shook her head. If she had not seen those poor people returning from war with no work to go to, or the lame, or the poor souls who toiled at the mills, would she have given them a second thought? Or, more likely she would have grouped them together as the poor, wretched and ignorant, without considering why they lived as they did. Her brief scrape with life as a felon had changed her. Something inside her had hardened. From happy, protected Parthena she had had her eyes opened and as she thought of her new friend, Jerome, her heart welled with so much gratitude, admiration and desire, for he had seen her as a thief, judged her and found her a worthy person. He knew her for what she was and yet he still helped her. Hubbart broke through her thoughts.

  “Miss, we heard no word from you. The trunk has been stored in the attic room, I believe.” The woman looked quite ashen-faced.

  “You believe?” she queried.

  “Yes, miss, although Mr Munro was talking of having it brought down again this weekend.”

  “Where is Mr Bertram now?” she asked. She could not smell the smoke from his pipe hanging in the air and so guessed he was either out or still abed.

  “He is out, miss, but should be back by noon. He has been busy preparing the Hall, miss,” she added. Thena suspected that Hubbart wanted to share something with her.