by Anna Jacobs
Half an hour later, the housekeeper came to see him. ‘Am I interrupting, Mr Joseph?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘I just wanted to check that everything went all right with Harriet.’
‘Oh, yes. She’s a very polite young woman and I enjoyed chatting to her. You know, I think I’d have enjoyed being a teacher. I’m going to plan a course of reading for her. Would you mind if she came to spend an hour with me two mornings a week? I’d enjoy it so much.’
She looked surprised, then uncomfortable. ‘You’d have to ask your mother about her coming to talk to you regularly. Borrowing books is one thing, but that’s … well, different.’
‘Oh. Yes, of course. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll speak to Mama. But it wouldn’t upset your routine too much?’
‘We’re here to serve the family, Mr Joseph, whatever they need.’
‘Well, thank you for letting Harriet come to me. It cheered me up no end to be able to talk to someone about books.’
There! Mrs Stuart went back to the housekeeper’s room and closed the door to signify that she wasn’t available. She wanted to think about this, but it was easy to understand, because she’d already guessed: Mr Joseph was growing restless because he was so much better nowadays. She’d heard of that before, lads growing out of their weakness if they survived childhood, though of course he’d never be able to walk steadily, poor young man. But why they thought he should choose a wife only from ugly or ill-mannered young women, she didn’t know. He had a very sweet nature, Mr Joseph did.
Opening the door slightly, in case anyone wanted to speak to her, she got on with her work. But she kept thinking about Mr Joseph, remembering the times they thought they’d lost him as a child, and realising how well he was looking these days.
Later, she snorted loudly right in the middle of sorting out the linen, making Mabel jump in shock. As the maid stared at her, she said hastily, ‘Sorry, dear. I was just remembering something that had annoyed me. Nothing to do with you. It happened years ago. Let’s get on with checking the linen.’
But later she saw Mr Joseph make his way back to the library after a solitary evening meal in the breakfast parlour. The master and mistress should make more effort to introduce him to neighbours and people his own age, not just occasional suitable young women. He should make friends and go out on his own. Why did they discourage this so persistently?
She sighed. It was the way he walked. It did look rather ugly. They were ashamed of it and that made him ashamed, which had turned him into a recluse.
It wasn’t right. There was nothing wrong with his brain and he was as kind as you please. And he wasn’t bad-looking, either, with that soft brown hair and those dark brown eyes.
Well, if permission was given, she’d make sure Harriet was allowed to spend time with him. She could trust that girl not to be cheeky. And if teaching the maid could put that bright, interested look on Mr Joseph’s face again, it’d please her greatly.
As she was getting into bed, Mrs Stuart decided that if Mr Joseph continued to get better, and if they continued to keep him too closely confined, there would be trouble ahead. He was a young man, after all, and young men did rebel at times.
But pleasant though she might be, Mrs Dalton wasn’t the sort of mistress you could talk to frankly, or offer advice to, especially about the family.
Only, servants couldn’t help noticing things. Sometimes they noticed far more than their employers did.
Chapter Five
When Joseph’s parents returned briefly from London, he joined them for luncheon, feeling a lift of his spirits when he saw his new box of books being carried towards the library from the rear of the house.
His father was in a good mood, smiling at him across the table. ‘I forgot to ask you. How did it go with the young maid last week? Did you find her some easy books to read?’
‘She’s an intelligent young woman, Father. She doesn’t need easy books, only something to feed her brain.’
His father snorted. ‘Servants don’t need brains; they need brawn and stamina, even the women.’
His mother chimed in unexpectedly. ‘They do need brains if they’re to rise to the higher positions in a house like this, William. Take Mrs Stuart. She’s a clever woman, who manages the household accounts and all the details of running a big house extremely efficiently. I’m sure I could never do such a job half as well. Mrs Miller was intelligent too. In fact, I’ve been very lucky with my housekeepers here.’
‘That’s because you treat your staff well, Mama, so they work better for you. And you’re right about brains, too. Did you know that just before she came to work here, Harriet won a scholarship to grammar school which would have enabled her to train as a teacher?’
She looked at him in surprise. ‘Then why on earth did her family not let her take up the scholarship?’
‘Her father died suddenly, and her stepmother wanted her out working and bringing in money.’
‘How did you find all that out from the girl so quickly?’
‘Oh, I didn’t talk about personal things to her. We only discuss books. Mrs Stuart and I had a little chat afterwards. She has her eye on young Harriet for advancement, thinks we’ve got a treasure there. She keeps in touch with Mrs Miller, as you know, and she is a relative of the stepmother.’
‘Well, we must be sure we keep the girl happy, then. I know it’ll be a bore, but if you can spare time to continue helping her select books, do it for me, there’s a dear. Good servants are getting harder and harder to find these days. When I hear the tales some of my friends in London tell about impertinent maids, it makes me shudder.’
As the meal ended and the servants cleared away the final dishes, Joseph began to ease his wheelchair away from the table. His parents exchanged quick glances and his mother said, ‘Don’t go yet, Joseph. Your father and I would like to have a little chat with you.’
He stopped moving, guessing what this was about.
‘We’ve been thinking that we ought to take you out and about more, now that you’re so much better. And … we need to think seriously about your future.’
‘I’m not exactly an asset to a social gathering. I can’t even stroll round someone’s gardens, let alone dance or play tennis.’
‘Nonetheless, you need to meet people your own age and make friends. It may even be useful for you to go up to London to broaden your circle of acquaintances.’
‘You know I never feel well there.’ It had been true in the past, but Joseph doubted it’d be true now. However, if a lie got him out of going up to London, he’d tell it willingly. He didn’t enjoy crowds and the thought of the social round his parents described made him shudder.
‘We can think about London later. For the moment, your father and I will spend more time here and entertain more frequently.’
‘Mama, if this is about finding me a wife, I don’t even want to think about that.’
His father said loudly and firmly, ‘Joseph, you need to find a wife, so do as your mother tells you. She knows how to set about it, after helping marry off your brothers and sister.’
‘What if I don’t meet anyone I can grow fond of?’
His mother’s voice was sharper than usual. ‘You won’t if you decide against it in advance.’
There was silence and he wondered if he dared leave now, but she moved her chair closer to his and took his hand. ‘We all have to be practical in this life, Joseph. Marriage for people of our class is as much about the business of living as about affection. It’s time you began to look for a wife because you’re going to need one. We won’t always be here to care for you.’
He could hire someone to care for him. You didn’t have to marry for that. But he didn’t say it. Sometimes it was better to listen, nod and go your own way.
His father took over, clearing his throat noisily. ‘There’s something you don’t know, Joseph. I’m afraid the family finances never recovered from the reverses of the eighties and nineties. In fact,
they’ve been stretched pretty thinly over the past few years – establishing three sons in good occupations, giving your sister a dowry and providing a decent income for my heir, especially now that Selwyn has a wife to support.’
Joseph had heard his father complain about money before, but had paid little attention because he’d seen no sign of his parents making any economies in their lifestyle. How short of money could they be?
It suddenly struck him that they’d probably not expected to need to support him as an adult and had made no provision for it. He’d nearly died a few times as a child, when he couldn’t breathe properly, but that had gradually stopped happening as he grew older.
‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Father, but I could never live with a woman I didn’t like, let alone touch her in bed.’
‘Watch how you talk in front of your mother!’ his father snapped.
‘Sometimes it’s better to be frank and we are talking about marriage, after all.’
‘Sometimes, my boy, you should heed the advice of those older and wiser than yourself without arguing. Frankly, if you wish to continue living in comfort for the rest of your life, you need to find a wife with money. Now, don’t say anything you may regret. We’ll talk about this again in a couple of days’ time, once you’ve had the chance to consider your lack of other financial alternatives.’
His mother let go of his hand, which Joseph took as a sign that he could leave. ‘I’ll get back to my books, then.’ He rolled his wheelchair towards the door without a word, but he knew that nothing they said or did would make him agree to marry a disagreeable young woman like Christina Jeffcott.
And he was quite sure that no charming, pretty young woman would look twice at a penniless cripple like him. He didn’t mind considering a wife who wasn’t pretty, but he wouldn’t tie himself to a person he disliked.
He sighed. The conversation had shown only too clearly what a low value his parents placed on him. Well, he’d known that, really, but he didn’t normally allow himself to dwell on it.
He looked down at his twisted body and grimaced. He might be walking more strongly these days, but it was an ugly way of moving and people still averted their eyes from him. He didn’t even know whether he could father children, because he’d never had the opportunity to get close to a woman in that way.
But once in a while he grew restless and found himself staring at images of women’s bodies in books, finding some of them attractive, responding to them. So perhaps he wasn’t totally useless in that respect. He’d probably never find out, though, because he didn’t think he could face the humiliation of trying and failing.
Moving his chair across to the window, he sat for a while, staring out at the rain-soaked landscape. Spring had been very wet and even the summer had seemed grey and overcast. The colours outside were as dull as his mood.
What would he do if his parents insisted he marry some girl he detested? Would they threaten to disown him? Carry out the threat? He was totally dependent on them financially.
No, they wouldn’t do that because it’d be embarrassing for the family. But they could make his life very difficult. He was only too aware of that.
The following day his mother came into the library during the afternoon. ‘Not reading, my dear boy?’
Joseph jumped in shock. He hadn’t heard her come in. ‘Sorry, Mama. I was miles away.’
‘You spend far too much time inside that head of yours.’
‘It’s quite a pleasant place, with a well-furnished brain to play around in,’ he mocked, ‘however poor my body is physically.’
She sat down beside him. ‘We upset you yesterday, didn’t we?’
He chose to misunderstand her. ‘About what?’
‘I can still tell when you’re prevaricating, Joseph. You have a very open face.’
‘If you’ve come to persuade me to marry a woman I dislike for the sake of her money, you’re wasting your breath. I couldn’t do it, Mama. I just … could not.’
‘But what alternative is there, darling? This house has to go to the oldest son, and you’ve never got on with Selwyn, or he with you, so you’ll have to move out when your father and I die. We’re in our sixties now, so we have to plan for the worst. And you’ll only have a couple of thousand pounds plus anything Selwyn can add to it. If he’ll make you an allowance.’
‘I’d not take anything from him.’ Selwyn had tormented him as a child, not casually like his other brothers, but unremittingly. Now Selwyn tried to ignore him as much as possible, which suited Joseph just fine. He frowned at her. ‘I didn’t even know I’d have that much money.’
‘My mother left it to you. It’s increased a little, I gather. Compound interest, whatever that is. Your father’s man of business looks after that sort of thing. It won’t be nearly enough to maintain you in any sort of style, though. You won’t even be able to buy a house, because you’ll need the capital in order to live off the interest, so you’ll have to take rooms.’
‘Then I’ll take rooms and live cheaply, Mama. There are public-lending libraries, so I could still read.’
‘And Pollins? What about his wages? How would you manage without his help? Not to mention a maid or two to do your housework?’
He didn’t answer, knew she’d hit a sore spot there. Pollins had been with him for years and was far closer to him than most servants were to their masters. And Joseph would definitely need help with the daily chores needed to run a home. Shopping, he supposed, preparing food, washing clothes. How ignorant he was of how most of these things were actually done!
‘I’d find a way,’ he muttered. ‘Others live in lodgings, after all.’
‘You’d hate it. No privacy.’
‘I’d still have a room of my own.’
She studied his face. ‘You’re as obstinate as your father, do you know that?’
‘Am I? Poor you, then.’
‘Your father gets exactly that look on his face when he turns mulish about something. At least promise me you’ll give our candidates a chance.’
He hesitated, then said, ‘I’ll meet them, yes, and be polite to them, but unless I like someone, I won’t marry her.’ Love he didn’t expect, but surely liking wasn’t too much to expect.
‘Thank you, dear.’ She stood up and bent to drop one of her light kisses on the top of his head. ‘I’ll have to think about it very carefully. We must be able to find a young woman you can get on with, if we try hard. Or at least one who won’t give you any trouble. As long as you don’t expect her to be beautiful.’
She moved towards the door, leaving a sigh drifting behind her. The faint smell of the perfume she always wore lingered in the air after she’d gone.
As did her final words.
The thought of being put on display to miscellaneous spinsters horrified him. How could he bear it?
How could he stop it happening, though? He couldn’t be rude to his mother, because, apart from the fact that he loved her, she was only trying to help him in her own way.
And he did have to think about his future. He could at least consider it, as he’d agreed.
But if he had some money of his own, maybe he could build a life somewhere else. A terrifying thought, but … also an exciting one.
He’d insist on managing the money himself from now on. Why on earth had they kept the information about it from him?
Because they didn’t consider him an equal.
Over the next few months, Joseph was dragged to every house in the neighbourhood. He met the few young ladies who lived nearby, and other young or not-so-young ladies who were connections of the neighbours and who were sent for to visit.
Somehow word had got out that the Daltons were looking for a wife for their youngest. Failures from the mating season in London were being lined up for a last desperate attempt to win a husband, any husband.
As the summer and autumn passed, he grew used to being watched as he limped around parlours.
He grew used to seeing the visiting
ladies avert their eyes.
He found it hard to chat to them, not only because he’d led such a sequestered life, but also because he had so little in common with them. None of them seemed very intelligent, or even well read. If they’d read anything, it was poetry or novels. And few expressed opinions of their own, agreeing with whatever he said, or parroting clichés.
And always, always, he was conscious of the way they avoided looking at him when he moved. That was the main factor that decided him against them, all of them.
It was a relief to take refuge in the library when he came home and immerse himself in books. Or just sit and stare into space, worrying, trying to think of a way of persuading his mother not to do this to him, trying to work out a way of earning money.
The visit to the library twice a week by Harriet never failed to cheer him up and stimulate him. She was always full of questions about what she’d been reading, or what she’d seen in his father’s discarded newspapers. He’d now won permission for her to read these once the housekeeper and cook had finished with them.
Her opinions were her own, some of them giving him a very different view of life.
‘Do none of the other servants want to read the newspapers?’ he asked idly.
She flushed. ‘Mrs Stuart and Cook glance through them. The others don’t. They think I’m only pretending to understand them.’ She sighed. ‘And it’s true. I don’t understand a lot of what’s reported in the news because I’ve never been anywhere. Could you explain about … ?’
And they’d be off. She challenged him mentally. She made him laugh.
She had become … a friend in all but name.
His mother came in one day when they were laughing and raised her eyebrows.
Harriet was up from her chair instantly, bobbing a curtsey and edging towards the door.
‘Don’t go,’ his mother said to the maid.
He wished she hadn’t, waited in dread for what she’d say.