Master of His Fate

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  After kissing each other’s cheeks, Delia escorted Vera into the room.

  Alexis stood up, thrust out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Clive.”

  “And you too, Miss Malvern.”

  At this moment, Parker returned once more, leading another young woman to the drawing room. He announced, “Miss Trevalian has arrived, madam.”

  Once introductions had been made, the four elegant women sat down in chairs grouped near the French doors. These stood open, showing a view of the summer garden and allowing fresh air to circulate in the room.

  Delia looked at her friends. “Welcome. I’m so happy you are here. And before we start speaking about the project, I did want to inform you that Miss Malvern’s father has generously donated a thousand pounds, my husband and father five hundred each, and I’ve garnered another thousand made up of smaller donations from members of my family. So not a bad start, wouldn’t you say?”

  Vera Clive nodded. “My husband has given me a check for five hundred, I’m happy to tell you. And it is a very good start indeed.”

  “Thank you, Vera, and please thank Rupert on our behalf,” Delia said.

  Claudia Trevalian spoke up. “And I am giving the same amount, Delia.” She opened her reticule, took out an envelope, and passed it to Delia.

  “Thank you. How generous you’ve both been.” Delia placed the envelopes on an occasional table next to her chair. Her eyes swept over her friends, and she began. “Last year Alexis told me a story that so appalled and disturbed me, I immediately agreed with her when she said she wanted to do something to help abused women. Mostly living in the East End. To start a charity, in fact.”

  Glancing at Alexis, who sat opposite her, she continued. “Will you tell Vera and Claudia the story please, Alexis?”

  “Of course,” Alexis said. “As you are no doubt aware, my father owns the Malvern Market in Camden. Last year one of his stall holders approached my father, when he had gone on his regular visit to the market to meet with some of the men. His name is Jack Holden, and he asked my father if he knew of any safe shelters for women in distress.”

  Alexis paused for a moment, shifting on the edge of the chair. “My father did not know of such places, and he asked Jack Holden why he wanted to know this. Seemingly, a neighbor of the Holdens had come to their home late one night seeking help. She was so badly beaten they knew they had to get her to the nearest hospital at once. Which they did. The poor woman had been attacked violently by her husband, and for such a long time she had massive internal bleeding. Sadly, she died in hospital later that week. Mr. Holden’s startling comment to my father that abusive husbands were ‘two a penny,’ and exist all over different areas of London, shocked Papa. He recounted all this to me, and so I went to see Mr. Holden to gather more facts. I decided there and then I was going to find a house and turn it into a refuge for these distressed and helpless women.”

  “That is very commendable of you,” Vera Clive remarked. “You can count on me to help you.”

  “And I would also like to volunteer,” Claudia said. “Can we perhaps look for the right place together?”

  “I found the house six months ago,” Alexis explained. “And I bought it. The interiors needed much work, and I had to add baths. And also water closets. I can only say thank goodness for Thomas Crapper and his products. I bought his WCs, which work well.”

  “That must have been a very expensive operation,” Vera said, a frown furrowing her brow. “Perhaps we should give you some of the money we’ve donated to help with these costs.”

  “No, no, I don’t need it, but thank you for the offer. You see, our family company does a lot of building in the course of the year. And I was able to negotiate some excellent deals with the building firms we constantly use. I have a legacy from my late mother and I paid for the refurbishing of the house with some of that. I think she would have approved.”

  “The good news is that Alexis now has the house ready,” Delia interjected. “And we found a good woman who will be in charge of it. She is helping us to put together a staff of five women, three of whom will live there with her. She’s called Madeleine Thompson and is the manager of the house.”

  “Well, you’ve certainly done an awful lot already. When can we see the house? And what can we do?” Claudia asked.

  “I can take you to see the house any day next week,” Alexis said. “It’s in Whitechapel near Commercial Street. Just round the corner before you come to Whitechapel High Street. There is plenty of room there. It’s simply furnished, and this just occurred to me, if you’re thinking of throwing any pieces away, consider the house first.”

  “Oh, goodness me! I have several comfortable chairs and a sofa I want to get rid of,” Vera said. “I’ll arrange for them to be taken over whenever it’s convenient for you.”

  “Thank you very much,” Alexis said. “You see, Delia and I don’t want the funds we’ve raised to be used for purchasing furniture and the like. Rather, we need the money to pay for food, medicines, and Mrs. Thompson’s wages, of course.”

  “What about the other women who will work there?” Claudia asked. “Will they be paid also?”

  “The three who will live in are former battered women and in need of a roof over their heads—a safe place to live. Since they have that, we will be paying them only a small amount of money, but they get all of their meals,” Alexis told them. “They too want to help women who have suffered.”

  Delia said, “There’s another thing you can do, Vera, and you too, Claudia. Discarded clothing would be most useful, especially coats, cloaks, shawls, skirts, and blouses. Nothing too fancy. And underwear. When the women come to the house, they will literally have nothing at all with them except the clothes they’re wearing.”

  At this moment, Parker arrived in the doorway and looked across at Delia, a questioning expression on his face. She merely nodded her head, and he hurried away.

  “Parker is about to bring us tea and biscuits,” she said, smiling at her guests. “If you have any more questions, we will answer them. I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re willing to join with us. And I know Alexis is as well. All suggestions are welcome.”

  Claudia, looking thoughtful for a moment or two, finally asked, “The two other women who agreed to help … are they volunteers?”

  “Yes, they are,” Delia replied. “The three who will be living in will cook and clean, and do everything they can to help the battered women.”

  “What happens if they fall ill?” Vera looked from Delia to Alexis. “Do you have a doctor on call?”

  “Yes, we do. But in most cases we will send them to hospital. After all, we are a safe house offering temporary protection, and helping the women to get on their feet. We can’t look after the sick. If possible, we want them to move on and start a new life.”

  Parker and two young maids entered the drawing room, placed several trays on a table nearby. Parker poured the tea and the maids served the ladies, and the butler followed with a plate of biscuits.

  Once they were alone again, Vera asked, “What about bed linen and towels? I can have my housekeeper go through our linen closet. I’m sure we can spare quite a lot of items.”

  “That’s very kind of you,” Alexis murmured. “Delia and I did the same thing, and Delia’s mother paid for some beds.”

  Delia said, “This is all turning out very well, and I think it goes without saying that we will literally take anything you can give—”

  “Or cadge,” Alexis cut in, happy Delia’s friends were so enthusiastic.

  Seven

  Alexis and Claudia sat together in the peach drawing room, chatting amiably about the charity. Vera had taken her leave, rushing off to be with her ailing father, and Delia had excused herself and gone up to her boudoir to pen a note to Henry Malvern, to thank him for his check.

  It was money that Claudia was now speaking about, and this did not surprise Alexis. She knew very well who Claudia was: the daughter of Seb
astian Trevalian, head of an ancient bank dating back a century at least. It was as famous as the renowned, long-standing Coutts.

  It struck Alexis that her understanding of money was no doubt in her blood. “Four thousand pounds is an extraordinary beginning,” Claudia went on. “A veritable fortune, in fact. But I believe we should think farther ahead and continue to raise money. Now. For the future. We mustn’t rest on our laurels.”

  “I agree with you, and money so easily slips away. Very fast.”

  “I will ask my father for a donation, and I’m sure his check will be immediately forthcoming. I will also attempt to find other sources. We ought to build up a large amount of cash. In reserve, so that we are never caught short. Don’t you agree, Alexis?”

  “I do, and I feel very strongly that we should not waste the cash by buying things. Rather, it should be kept for medicines and good, nutritious food. In the six months it took to renovate the house, Delia and I managed to cadge enough furniture, crockery, and kitchen utensils to make the house functional, relatively comfortable to live in. And, in fact, every single thing was donated by our families and friends. Or bought for us by them.”

  Claudia chuckled. “I shall have to learn to cadge, and I think I might be rather good at it. I’ll start with my sisters and cousins.”

  “That’s usually a good idea. I think you’ll find that those you ask will be glad, even relieved to have somewhere to send items they no longer use, don’t want to hoard away in cupboards.”

  Claudia said, “One thing I forgot to ask you earlier … how many women will the house accommodate at one time?”

  “Twelve comfortably,” Alexis replied. “We have six bedrooms. Delia and I placed two single beds in each room. But at a pinch those rooms could take a third bed, if necessary. There is also a large upstairs parlor that would quite easily convert to become a small dormitory. That would hold about four women and several children. You see, some women often bring a child with them, even two, afraid to leave them behind. Our aim is to have twenty beds eventually. To give them shelter and safety, and that includes a few children. But we can’t become an orphanage.”

  Somewhat taken aback, Claudia stared at her, a look of shock registering in her eyes. “Is it that bad? Is there such a lot of physical abuse among poor women?”

  “Oh yes. And even among the rich, if the truth be known,” Alexis responded. “But wealthier women generally have families to run to, or loyal friends who will help them escape their husbands and their situation.” Alexis shook her head, and added quietly, “Class doesn’t define abusive men, Claudia. I am afraid they are everywhere in society. In all classes and creeds.”

  Sitting back in the chair, Claudia snapped her eyes shut, not saying a word.

  Watching her closely, Alexis saw that her face had turned pale, and she seemed upset. After a moment, Alexis asked in concern, “Are you all right? Can I help you?”

  Opening her eyes, sitting up straighter, Claudia said, “I’m fine. I was just remembering something…” A great sigh escaped her. “I had a friend who once confided in me, told me her husband abused her, and very brutally. At times she had to remain at their country house until her bruises faded and she had recovered her equilibrium.” There was a pause. Unexpectedly, Claudia’s eyes filled with tears.

  Reaching out, Alexis touched her arm. “You are upset. What can I do to help you?”

  Blinking back the tears, Claudia endeavored to recoup, to collect herself. Her voice was sad when she said, “I was remembering something, suddenly understanding how wrong I once was. About a friend. You see, I didn’t believe her. He was such a good-looking man, full of charm and grace, a true gentleman, an aristocrat of impeccable lineage. It just didn’t seem possible…” Her voice trailed away and she shook her head.

  “Just because a man is a born gentleman doesn’t mean he isn’t also a cad. And a dangerous cad at that! I can think of a number of worse words to use to describe those bad men.” Alexis’s voice had raised an octave in anger.

  Claudia took out a handkerchief and patted her face. “I wish I had believed her. She was reaching out to me. She wanted my help. And I abandoned her. How awful of me. But I never saw any physical damage.”

  “Because she had waited until her wounds had healed.” Alexis leaned forward, and asked, “I hope nothing terrible happened to her.”

  There was a moment of silence before Claudia whispered, “It did. She killed herself.”

  “She died by his hand! He drove her to it.” Looking at Claudia intently, Alexis saw she was still upset. Her eyes were moist again. She said, “You mustn’t blame yourself, or feel guilty. We are all in charge of our own lives, Claudia. Character is destiny … it is who we are inside ourselves that leads us to live the lives we do. Our character makes us who we are.”

  A look of comprehension crossed Claudia’s face. “I see what you mean. Nonetheless, I should have helped her get away from him.”

  “She should have left him, sought help from someone else. Or did he keep her cloistered away?”

  “I don’t know. She stayed in the country when he’d really beaten her up. She told me she couldn’t show herself in that condition in London society.”

  For a moment Alexis was silent, realizing how violent the man must have been. She couldn’t help wondering who he was.

  Claudia leveled her gaze at Alexis. “Why on earth does a woman stay with a brutal man?” She sounded genuinely puzzled, frowning.

  “I don’t know.” A thoughtful look crossed Alexis’s face. “What I do know is that a woman living in poverty is extremely vulnerable. She has nowhere to go, probably not one single person to help her. And if she has children, it becomes more difficult, complex.”

  Claudia simply nodded.

  Alexis shrugged her shoulders, lifted her hands helplessly. “As for women of our class, why they stay I’ll never understand. Could it be they still love the man despite his wickedness? It’s a mystery to me.”

  “And to me, Alexis. I have learned a lesson this afternoon. I shall never disbelieve a friend again, if she comes to me with a similar story. I shall pay attention and I will do something.”

  “I feel the same way.”

  “I know you’re not married,” Claudia stated, half smiling at Alexis. “Neither am I. That is because I haven’t met the right man. And so I haven’t fallen in love. But I hope I will do so one day. I would like to have a husband and a family. I love children.”

  “As you stated, I’m not married,” Alexis said, relieved that Claudia had recovered from her sadness about her friend. “And frankly, I don’t expect I ever will be. My business career is more important to me than anything else—”

  Alexis stopped short, suddenly wondering why she was confiding in Claudia, whom she did not really know. Then she realized that she had felt drawn to her the moment they had met.

  “Your reputation as a brilliant businesswoman precedes you, Alexis. You inspire other women who would also enjoy being in business, but are not allowed to work.”

  “What about you? Would you like to be a banker, following in your father’s footsteps?”

  “No, I wouldn’t. But I would like something to do, which is one of the reasons I want to be involved with your charity. By the way, does the safe house have a name yet?”

  “It does. Delia and I decided to call it Haven House, because that says exactly what it is … a haven for women who need to be safe.”

  “I can’t wait to visit it next Tuesday, and when will it be opened? When will women be able to come there for help?”

  “It’s really ready now, and Delia and I will make it known to the local churches and hospitals that we are there to give shelter,” Alexis explained, and looked at the doorway as Delia walked in.

  She joined them near the window. “I can see that you have connected. I knew you would. In fact, I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to become involved with the charity before, Claudia.”

  “So am I, but here I am now, ready, willi
ng, and able to do whatever I can. Wouldn’t it be possible to go and visit Haven House from time to time, Delia?”

  “Of course, we’d love that. Alexis and I believe that the women will appreciate our interest in them. We fully intend to drop by whenever we can. Of course, they may be a bit shy at first.”

  Claudia looked from Delia to Alexis. “I had a thought when I was on my way here earlier. I’d like to share it with you…” A questioning look crossed her face.

  “Please do tell us.” Delia smiled encouragingly.

  “I was wondering what I would actually do if I visited the shelter. It suddenly occurred to me that I might be able to teach the women something during their stay. I came up with the idea of taking some books. I thought perhaps there might be some women who can’t read.”

  Alexis exclaimed, “What a clever idea! It’s just wonderful, Claudia. And there are bound to be many women who never went to school, before it became compulsory.”

  A smile spread across Claudia’s face, and she began to discuss the kind of books she would collect, how she might bring a carpenter to build bookshelves in one of the communal rooms, with their permission.

  As she sat listening to her, liking Claudia more and more, Alexis saw the strong family likeness between her and Delia. Their mothers were sisters, making them first cousins. Margot, Claudia’s mother, had died some years ago, but Delia’s was still alive and had helped with the charity.

  Both women had the same burnished, glossy brown hair and dark eyes. Pretty women, they were well groomed and smartly dressed. She knew that Delia was just thirty because she had attended her birthday luncheon. But she had no idea how old Claudia was … younger than Delia, about twenty, perhaps, not much older than that.

  Each of them was wearing a gown by Madame Valance. Her unique style was easy to recognize and it was patently obvious to Alexis that they also patronized the French designer.

  Delia had chosen a deep rose-colored silk gown, with long sleeves, a square neckline, and a sweeping bustle; Claudia was dressed in a purple silk jacket with a cleverly cut skirt which matched. It was a straight skirt, with side drapes, but no bustle. Alexis thought it was chic, and decided she would order something similar. She liked the idea of skirts without those cumbersome bustles that she no longer tolerated.