Chaff upon the Wind

by Margaret Dickinson

  With a shock, Kitty realized that Edward Franklin’s disappointment in her hurt more deeply than either Mrs Grundy’s or even her own family’s rejection.

  She let her glance fall away from his steady gaze and stammered. ‘I-it’s very kind of you, Master Edward, but I’ll manage. I’ll be all right.’

  ‘It’s Teddy when we’re alone, Kitty Clegg,’ he reminded her gently. ‘Have you forgotten?’

  He paused until she whispered, ‘No, no, I hadn’t forgotten. But – but things are very different now.’

  Of all the people in the world, she wanted to confide in him, wanted him to know the truth. But she could not break her solemn promise. She would never break the promises she had made, no matter what others did.

  Softly, he was asking, ‘Won’t the – the father – marry you?’

  She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

  ‘It’s him, isn’t it?’ Edward’s voice was low and shaking with anger. ‘Threshing Jack?’

  Miserably, Kitty nodded. If only, she thought, I could tell him the truth. But how could she? Not only had she made a faithful promise, but she would be shattering the boy’s illusions about his own sister, whom she knew he loved dearly and admired for her strength. How could she hurt and disillusion Edward in such a way? So Kitty held her tongue, but it was with a heavy heart that she left his room and went back downstairs to the kitchen.

  Only when she picked up the cradle and gently opened the shawl to look upon the face of the sleeping child, did determination flood through her again. When she held the baby in her arms, all her doubts and fears vanished. Whatever the future held for them both, she had not one moment’s regret when she held the child close and nuzzled her cheek against his dark, downy head.

  ‘But you’ll not get away so easily, Jack Thorndyke,’ she vowed. ‘Not from me and your son, you won’t.’

  Twenty-Nine

  ‘You can feed him, Kitty, I’ll not be that cruel to the little chap, but then you must be on your way.’

  Mrs Grundy watched as Kitty went through the performance of bottle, teats and warmed milk again.

  ‘Can’t you feed him yarsen, lass? It’d have been a lot less bother, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘No, I couldn’t.’ Desperately, Kitty searched her mind for a reasonable excuse. ‘I hadn’t enough milk.’ She hid a wry smile thinking how very true that was and remembering also how appalled she had been to see Miriam’s ripe and overflowing breasts and yet the girl had still refused to suckle her child.

  She heard Mrs Grundy’s sniff of disapproval. ‘’Spect you didn’t try hard enough. It teks time and patience and you never did have much of that.’

  Kitty was tempted to retort, ‘How would you know?’ but she held her tongue. Further argument might lead her into saying far too much.

  It was as she was finishing feeding the baby that they heard the sound of the front door being opened and voices in the hall.

  ‘That’s the mistress back and it sounds like the master’s with her. You’d best be on your way, Kitty. Go out the back way, will ya?’

  Kitty laid the baby in the cradle and packed the feeding equipment into her bag. Then she faced Mrs Grundy again. ‘I’ll see the mistress, now she’s back.’

  ‘Oh no, you won’t, Kitty Clegg. You’ve caused enough trouble here this morning. I ’eard all that ruckus upstairs.’

  But once more, Kitty was through the door into the hall and up the stairs towards Mrs Franklin’s sitting room. When she knocked on the door, the bark that bade her enter was unmistakably the voice of Mr Franklin. Kitty took a deep breath, pushed open the door and stepped into the room.

  Standing with his back to the fire, the master glared at her. ‘What the devil do you want? I thought you’d been dismissed. Come to beg for reinstatement, eh? Well, my wife must have had a good reason to dispense with your services, so you’d best be on your way.’ He paused and then shook his head. ‘I’m disappointed in you. Very disappointed. I’d have thought better of you, of all people. Got yourself into trouble, I’ll be bound. But if that is the case, I’ll not have you in this house, not anywhere near my daughter.’

  Kitty was sorely tempted to blurt out the truth. Instead she said calmly, ‘I need to see the mistress, sir. She’s been very kind to me. She understands.’

  He gave a grunt of annoyance. ‘Huh, a soft touch is my dear wife. A pushover for all the waifs and strays and fallen women of the town. But I won’t have it.’ He took a step towards her and raised his arm, pointing at the door. ‘Get out, girl. Go.’

  It was like a scene out of a play she had once seen at the theatre. She almost expected him to add the words, ‘And never darken my doorstep again.’

  Kitty held her ground and stared back at him, standing very quiet and still. He let his arm fall to his side and he shook his head. ‘You’ve got courage, girl. I’ll give you that. But then . . .’ He was turning away from her now and moving back to take up his former stance in front of the blazing fire. ‘I suppose,’ he turned to look at her again, ‘you’re like your mother. She had courage . . .’ His voice dropped. ‘A splendid courage, far more than I ever possessed.’ The words were spoken so softly now, more to himself than to her. Kitty said, ‘I beg your pardon, sir. You know my mother?’

  ‘Eh? What? Oh – er, well yes, a long time ago. She worked in this house, you know. Of course I knew her.’ This much Kitty knew, but surely the son of the house would not have known a maid that well. There was a defensive note in Mr Franklin’s voice as he recovered his composure. ‘Is that what this is all about? A little bit of blackmail, eh? Even after all this time.’

  Kitty shook her head. ‘I really don’t understand what you mean, sir.’ She opened her mouth to say more, to ask questions, but at that moment the communicating door, which led directly into Mrs Franklin’s bedroom from her sitting room, opened and she came into the room.

  Kitty saw at once that the woman was startled to see her there. Mrs Franklin’s anxious glance went immediately to her husband and then back to Kitty.

  Before she could speak, Mr Franklin’s voice boomed again. ‘The girl’s come to try a little bit of blackmail. Be damned if I’ll give her a penny piece and I’ll be obliged if you’d take the same attitude, Amelia.’

  Mrs Franklin’s eyes widened and her hand fluttered to her mouth. ‘Oh Kitty, no, you haven’t—’

  Before Mrs Franklin could say anything further, could say something that would let out the secret, Kitty put out her hand towards her and said urgently, ‘No, madam, I haven’t. The master’s misunderstood me. He thinks it’s because me mam used to work here.’

  She noticed the glance that passed at once between husband and wife and the sudden tightening of Mrs Franklin’s lips, and yet at the same time there was relief in her eyes. She seemed to understand at once, yet Kitty herself was still mystified.

  ‘I only wanted to see you, madam,’ Kitty said in a small voice. ‘That’s all. I’m not trying to cause trouble,’ and she added pointedly, knowing that her mistress would understand, ‘not for anyone.’

  ‘No, no.’ Mrs Franklin moved to her side, patted her arm and said in a low tone, ‘I know you wouldn’t do that.’ And in a whisper added, ‘I trust you, Kitty. I know I – we – can rely on you.’

  ‘Eh? What’s that? What are you whispering about? Send the girl packing, Amelia. I won’t have her dredging up the past and . . .’

  Mrs Franklin turned and moved across the room to sit on her sofa. ‘She’s doing nothing of the sort, Henry. She knows nothing about any of that. She has enough problems of her own and that is what this is about.’

  ‘Eh? What?’ His startled glance went from one to the other. ‘Oh, have I got it wrong?’

  ‘More than likely,’ Mrs Franklin said drily. ‘So, if you’d be kind enough to leave me with the girl, I will sort it out.’

  His manner seemed to change suddenly, to soften almost, Kitty thought. His eyes went from her to his wife and back again. ‘What problems? Yo
ur family? Something wrong in your family. Your mother . . .?’

  ‘Henry . . .’ Now there was a warning note in his wife’s voice and her clear eyes caught and held his gaze. ‘I will talk to you later.’

  To Kitty’s surprise, Mr Franklin’s glance fell away and he muttered, ‘Oh very well then.’ He marched past Kitty and out of the room, slamming the door behind him so violently that the delicate china in Mrs Franklin’s glass cabinet gave a shiver of fear.

  ‘Come and sit down, my dear.’ When Kitty did so, Mrs Franklin continued. ‘Now, I don’t mean to be harsh and I’ll do what I can to help you this time, but it really would be better if you did not come here again. As you can see, your presence can soon make things very – well – awkward. Questions start to be asked and so on.’

  ‘What did he mean about me trying to blackmail you?’

  Mrs Franklin dismissed her question with a wave of her hand. ‘Oh never mind all that. It has nothing to do with you or with our present problems.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Kitty, I have some money here for you. Five pounds, but that is all I can do for you, I’m afraid. I – I dare not do more.’

  ‘That’s very generous, madam. I didn’t expect that.’

  ‘I know you didn’t.’ There was a pause before she added, a little uncertainty creeping into her tone, ‘Is everything all right? You haven’t any regrets about taking . . .’ Her voice faltered and died away.

  ‘No, madam.’ Kitty’s face shone as she spoke of the baby boy. ‘I love him dearly, every bit as much as if – well, you know.’

  ‘Yes,’ Mrs Franklin’s voice was a whisper. ‘I do know.’ She paused then asked, ‘And – and the child’s father. Will he marry you?’

  Kitty’s eyes flashed. ‘He ses not, but I aren’t finished with him yet.’

  A small smile played at the corner of Mrs Franklin’s mouth, but the sadness did not leave her eyes. ‘But your family will stand by you, won’t they?’

  Kitty’s glance dropped and she plucked nervously at her skirt with fingers that trembled slightly. Their reaction, more than anything else, had been a shock to her. If she were honest, Jack’s response had not been entirely unexpected, but her father’s outrage had stunned her. She had fully expected their anger and disappointment, but the thought that her own father would cast her off had never once entered her head.

  She shook her head. ‘No, madam. I don’t think they will. At least, me dad won’t.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Kitty, I don’t know what else I can do.’

  ‘I’ll manage now, madam, with the money. It’s very good of you.’

  ‘I wish it could be more.’

  At least, Kitty thought, Mrs Franklin is not forgetting her promise as quickly as her daughter has done.

  Now there was a quaver in the woman’s voice as she asked, ‘And how – is my grandson?’

  Dusk was closing in when Kitty stepped out of the back door of the Manor House and it was shut firmly behind her by Mrs Grundy. She sighed. She hated deceiving Mrs Grundy, yet she had made her promise and she must keep it. And besides, deep in her heart, she rather feared that even if Mrs Grundy did know the whole truth, the cook would still view what she had done as even more foolish than becoming pregnant by the man she loved.

  Kitty hitched the baby up and planted a swift kiss on the tiny forehead. ‘I don’t care, my little man, as long as I have you.’ She sighed. I really must decide on a name, she thought, but I did so want Jack to have a say in the naming of his son.

  Jack. She lifted her head and listened, but the deepening dusk was silent. No sound was coming from the stackyard beyond the garden wall. And now, a light drizzle was beginning to fall.

  Coming to a decision, Kitty walked purposefully down the garden path to the wall at the end and through the door into the stackyard. Maybe Jack was still there, cleaning and polishing his beloved Sylvie. But the yard was deserted of workmen, the huge engine silent and only the wind scurried along the ground blowing bits of straw in little flurries. Kitty sighed. She would wait a while to see if he came back. The baby, sleeping peacefully, was warmly wrapped and would take no harm even in the cold night air. She lifted him out of the cradle and nestled him inside her cloak, close to her breast so that the warmth of her body would keep him warm too. Then she burrowed a nest for them both in the side of a straw stack. The child stirred at the movement but as she settled herself, Kitty began to croon a lullaby to him and soon he was asleep again.

  Kitty dozed fitfully, waking every few minutes to listen for any sound that meant Jack was returning to the yard, but only night sounds filled the air. The baby slept on and soon Kitty, too, fell into a deeper sleep.

  She awoke with a start to feel the child stirring in her arms and whimpering. The night was pitch black now and the rain was falling heavily, soaking through the straw to reach them. Kitty was stiff with cold and at once concerned that the baby, too, must be chilled. He must be hungry too and not for the first time Kitty bemoaned the fact that she could not feed him from her own breast.

  She could not stay here. She certainly dare not knock upon the back door of the Manor again. There was only one thing she could do; walk the mile through the darkness and the rain to her parents’ house at the station. Surely even her father would not turn her out again into the night. Surely even he, in his anger, could not do that to a tiny baby.

  ‘Oh I’m sorry, my little love. I should not have kept you here in the dark and the cold waiting for him. Shush, shush,’ she crooned. ‘Someone will hear you.’

  She was beginning to lever herself up out of the cocoon of straw when a sudden light shone in her face. Blinking, she gasped thankfully, ‘Jack, oh Jack – thank goodness you’ve come.’

  ‘It’s not Thorndyke,’ said a voice and there was no hiding the bitterness in its tone. ‘It’s me.’

  ‘Oh – oh Master Edward . . .’ Now she was standing and shaking the straw from her skirts and trying to move away. ‘I’m sorry. I’m – we’re just going.’

  ‘And where on earth do you think you’re going at this time of night, for heaven’s sake?’ His concern for her was making him speak sharply and, hearing it from the gentle young man, for a moment Kitty’s usual determination deserted her and tears sprang to her eyes. ‘We’re g-going,’ she stammered, ‘to my p-parents.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Kitty. That’s at least a mile away. You can’t possibly walk all that way now – at this time of night. It’s gone midnight. And carrying the child. Come back into the house.’

  ‘Oh no, Master Edward. I couldn’t. I daresunt. Really.’

  ‘Nonsense, Kitty. Do as I say. Think of your child, if not of yourself.’

  That, more than anything else could have done, swayed her. ‘Well,’ she said, though still reluctant, ‘just into the kitchen for a moment or two. Maybe I could just feed him. I think he’s hungry.’

  ‘Whatever, but do come into the warm. Come along.’ She felt his grasp on her elbow, surprisingly firm and determined and, despite the incongruity of her situation, in the darkness Kitty found herself smiling. How Master Edward was indeed growing up!

  The kitchen was deserted. Settling her into the chair at the side of the range, Edward bent and roused the fire, setting the kettle on the hob. ‘A hot drink’s what you need.’ She felt him looking at her and she looked up to meet his gaze. ‘Is there anything you need for the baby?’

  As Kitty told him what was required to prepare a feed, Edward reached out and gently eased back the shawl around the child’s face. The baby stared up at him with round, dark blue eyes.

  ‘Isn’t he tiny? I’ve never seen such a small baby before.’ He continued to stare down at the child as if drinking in the sight of him. Watching Edward, Kitty saw a tender smile curve his mouth, then his gaze moved slowly to meet her own. They stared at each other for a long moment until a log shifted in the fire, sending sparks up the flue and breaking their reverie. Edward cleared his throat and turned away to sit down on the opposite side of the fireplace
to watch Kitty feed her child.

  At least, she thought wryly, as at last she held the teat to the tiny mouth, Master Edward isn’t asking why I’m not feeding the baby myself like everyone else is doing.

  ‘You can stay here the rest of the night, Kitty.’

  She looked up, startled. ‘Oh I couldn’t, Master Edward. I’d be in awful trouble – and so would you.’

  He grinned and it warmed Kitty’s heart to see mischief in his eyes, a boyish mischief that she had never seen before when he was an invalid. But he was no invalid now and she was so thankful for it. Now Edward had the chance of living a proper life and with it, she could already see a strength and determination that before had been blotted out by his sickness and suffering.

  ‘But I’m going back to school tomorrow,’ he told her, arching his left eyebrow. ‘And you can be gone in the morning. Who’s to know? And even if they did, well . . .’ he spread his hands. ‘We’ll soon be away from any recriminations, won’t we? Both of us.’

  ‘Well,’ she wavered, torn by the desire to keep the child warm and fed and the fear of causing more trouble for herself and for Edward. But the young man was insistent. ‘You can sleep in my room and no one need know. You can leave before anyone gets up in the morning.’

  ‘But what if the baby cries in the night? I can’t be sure to keep him quiet, you know.’

  Edward shrugged and grinned again. ‘Well, we’ll worry about that if it happens, shall we?’

  But the little boy behaved perfectly, and, before it was light, Edward roused Kitty and together they crept down into the kitchen once more. When the baby had been fed, Edward opened the back door and Kitty stepped out in the pale mist of dawn. Turning, she whispered, ‘I don’t know how to thank you, Master Edward.’