A Mother's Grace

by Rosie Goodwin

  Contents

  Title Page

  Also by Rosie Goodwin

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Welcome to the world of Rosie Goodwin!

  A Letter from Rosie Goodwin

  Extract from Rosie Goodwin’s next novel

  Recipe of Traditional Welsh Cawl

  Recipe of Welsh Cakes or Pice ar y maen

  More from Rosie Goodwin

  Tales from Memory Lane

  Memory Lane Advert

  Copyright

  Also by Rosie Goodwin

  The Bad Apple

  No One’s Girl

  Dancing Till Midnight

  Tilly Trotter’s Legacy

  Moonlight and Ashes

  The Mallen Secret

  Forsaken

  The Sand Dancer

  Yesterday’s Shadows

  The Boy from Nowhere

  A Rose Among Thorns

  The Lost Soul

  The Ribbon Weaver

  A Band of Steel

  Whispers

  The Misfit

  The Empty Cradle

  Home Front Girls

  A Mother’s Shame

  The Soldier’s Daughter

  The Mill Girl

  The Maid’s Courage

  The Claire McMullen Series

  Our Little Secret

  Crying Shame

  Dilly’s Story Series

  Dilly’s Sacrifice

  Dilly’s Lass

  Dilly’s Hope

  The Days of The Week Collection

  Mothering Sunday

  The Little Angel

  A Mother’s Grace

  This book is for the very special new member of our family,

  Poppy Victoria, my beautiful little granddaughter.

  Welcome to the world sweetheart xxx

  Tuesday’s child is full of grace

  Prologue

  December 1891

  ‘You’ll do,’ Gertie remarked cryptically as she tied the ribbons of her niece’s bonnet beneath her chin, but despite her kind words her eyes were concerned. ‘But you do know you don’t have to do this, don’t you? There will always be a home for you with me.’

  Madeline, her niece, smiled. ‘I know that, Aunt Gertie, and I appreciate the offer but I want to marry Jacob,’ she assured her as she surveyed herself in the long cheval mirror in her bedroom. Yet despite her brave words her stomach was churning. It was only a few weeks since her beloved father, the vicar of the parish where she had lived all her life, had died. She was still mourning him and yet here she was about to get married. Everything had happened so quickly that she had barely had time to take everything in. But I will be happy with Jacob she told herself to quell the little ripple of unease in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t realised until after her father’s death just how poor they were, in fact, she barely had a penny to her name. But then she shouldn’t have been surprised. Her father had been such a kind man, he would have given a beggar the bread from his own mouth.

  She hadn’t known which way to turn when he died, for she wasn’t trained for any kind of work and had no idea what was to become of her, but then Jacob Kettle, who had attended her father’s services for many years, had come forward like a knight on a white charger in the fairy stories she had been so fond of in her childhood. He had expressed sincere feelings for her and had told her that he would be honoured if she would become his wife. Admittedly, Jacob was many years older than herself and she didn’t love him but she was sure that this would come with time and he was very handsome. She was aware that many of the spinsters in the parish had had their eyes set on him for some long while but he had never responded to any of their advances as far as she was aware and she had been flattered. He was rich too and she knew that she would never have to worry about money again. Surely, she had pondered, Jacob was the answer to all her prayers. And so, in her innocence she had agreed and had quite come to terms with it until Aunt Gertie had appeared.

  Aunt Gertie was her father’s younger sister and Madeline had spent many happy summers with her on her smallholding in Wales when she was a child so she had been distressed when very soon it became apparent that Gertie and Jacob had not taken to each other. But they will when they get to know each other, she told herself hopefully as she turned her eyes back to the mirror. Jacob had given her money to buy the new gown and bonnet she was wearing despite her protests and it was by far the finest quality gown she had ever owned, although, as Aunt Gertie had pointed out, it was very conservative. Jacob had expressed a wish that she would not buy anything too flamboyant. She had quite agreed, it would have been disrespectful when she was still in mourning for her father and so she had chosen a fine wool dress in a soft green colour edged with black braid. The colour matched her eyes and set off her flaming auburn hair to perfection.

  ‘I still think you could have chosen something just a little more stylish,’ Aunt Gertie huffed as she lifted a small posy of cream rosebuds and handed them to her. Jacob had had them delivered to her that morning and Madeline thought what a kind gesture it was.

  ‘This is just right,’ Madeline insisted as she leaned forward to peck her aunt’s cheek. ‘Now come along. I don’t want Jacob to think I’ve jilted him at the altar.’

  She paused in the doorway to look back at her bedroom one last time and she had to swallow hard to stop the lump in her throat and blink back tears. All her clothes had been transferred to Jacob’s home the day before and this was the last time she would ever see this small room where she had known such contentment. With a little sigh, she followed her aunt down the stairs and went out to the carriage that Jacob had sent for her. It looked very grand, although Aunt Gertie was clearly unimpressed.

  ‘Huh! I still can’t believe that you’re not even going to have a proper wedding breakfast,’ she remarked as she clambered in behind her and settled against the leather swabs.

  Madeline squeezed her hand. ‘I’ve explained that Jacob and I didn’t think it would be fitting so soon after father …’ Her voice faltered, but then pulling herself together with a g
reat effort she went on, ‘At least I shall have you there to give me away and that’s all I want. And I’m sure the meal we shall have back at Jacob’s will be splendid. He tells me his cook is very good.’

  ‘Well, I just hope it’s something hot,’ Gertie grumbled, wrapping her arms about her waist. ‘The wind’s enough to cut you in two today. I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t snow – it’s certainly cold enough. I just hope it holds off till I get back to Wales on the train.’

  They lapsed into silence until soon after the carriage pulled up outside St Peter’s Church where the vicar who would be taking over her father’s parish was waiting for them. It felt strange to think that later that day he would also be moving into the vicarage that had always been her home, but she tried as best she could to push the gloomy thoughts away for now. At the door she took her aunt’s arm and they glided down the aisle towards Jacob. He had a broad smile on his face and looked so handsome that her concerns momentarily faded away. I’ll be a good wife to him, she promised herself.

  The service was over in the blink of an eye and before she knew it they were back outside. It was not the wedding that Madeline had dreamed of as a little girl. There was no one waiting to shower them with rose petals and rice but she was trembling with a mixture of nervousness and excitement all the same. She was now Mrs Kettle, the wife of a well-respected judge.

  ‘I trust you will have time to return to my home for a meal before you have to catch your train?’ Jacob addressed Gertie but there was no warmth in his voice.

  She was equally as icily polite as he when she answered, ‘That would be very pleasant. Thank you.’

  And so the newlyweds climbed into the carriage while Gertie followed in a second one with Frederick Marshall, one of the judge’s colleagues who had stood as best man for him.

  When they arrived at the judge’s home, Gertie was forced to admit it was very impressive. Three storeys high and surrounded by low iron railings, she judged that the downstairs alone must be as big as the whole of her cottage put together. Not that she would have swapped it. Gertie had never set much store by material possessions.

  The judge ushered them all through a thick oak door into a long hallway and then into a dining room where a large table was set with fine china and crystal glasses for a meal. There was a large fire burning in the grate and Gertie headed for it instantly to warm her cold hands as the judge sent a maid away to fetch them all a tray of tea.

  The meal followed shortly after and although it was plain, Gertie was forced to admit that it was wholesome and filling. They were served with leek and potato soup followed by roast beef with all the trimmings and finally a jam roly-poly pudding and custard.

  At the end of the meal, Jacob stood and, after the maid had filled their glasses with wine, he proposed a toast, ‘To my lovely new wife!’

  It was short and sweet but Madeline was touched none the less. Soon after Gertie glanced at the clock and said reluctantly, ‘I’m afraid I should be heading for the station now if I’m to catch my train.’

  ‘I shall have the carriage sent round for you immediately,’ Jacob responded and when he bustled away Gertie took Madeline’s hands in her own. She still couldn’t take to her niece’s new husband. There was just something about him that she didn’t like. Perhaps it was the way his smile never seemed to quite reach his eyes?

  ‘Now, you know where I am if you need me.’ Gertie, never one to show much affection, found that she was choked, especially when Madeline’s eyes filled with tears.

  ‘I know … but I shall be fine … really.’

  They exchanged a brief hug and shortly after Gertie took her leave along with Frederick, who was returning to work.

  Once alone with her new husband, Madeline felt suddenly shy and her heart sank when he informed her, ‘Do excuse me but I too need to go to my office for a few hours. But I’m sure you will find something to do. Perhaps you could help the maid to put your clothes away? I shall be back for dinner this evening.’

  Disappointment coursed through her. She had imagined that they would spend the day together but then she knew what a busy man Jacob was and as they had got married on a week day he was bound to have things to do.

  ‘Of course, Jacob.’ She forced a smile although she was feeling totally out of her depth. ‘You go along, I shall be fine.’

  Once he had gone she went upstairs to look for their bedroom. She had only visited the house once before and still didn’t know her way around. However, she found it without difficulty and once she entered she found the maid busily emptying the small trunk that held her clothes.

  ‘Good afternoon, ma’am.’ The maid bobbed her knee and Madeline blushed. She’d never had a maid before and this girl looked barely older than she was.

  ‘Oh please, call me Madeline,’ she answered but the girl looked horrified at the very suggestion.

  ‘No, ma’am. I don’t think the judge would like that. He’s told us all to address you as ma’am, but my name is Fanny.’

  They worked quietly together and within no time everything was put away apart from the fine lawn nightdress trimmed with lace at the collar and cuffs, which Jacob had also bought for her. Madeline blushed furiously as she saw it laid across the bed and thought of the night ahead. She had never so much as kissed a man let alone lain with one and she wasn’t at all sure what to expect, although she had a rough idea after all the parishioners she had visited with her father. Fanny pottered away leaving Madeline alone with her thoughts. There was a small fire burning in the little grate but the room was still quite chilly and she paced up and down as she waited for Jacob to come home.

  He was home for his evening meal as promised and once it was over, he suggested, ‘Why don’t you go up and prepare for bed. It’s been a long day and you must be tired.’

  Madeline had hoped that they might sit together and chat for a while but all the same she nodded obediently.

  ‘Very well … I’ll see you shortly.’ Hot colour again flooded into her cheeks as she scuttled from the room.

  Fanny was in the hallway as she made her way to the staircase and she grinned at her as she passed causing Madeline to blush yet again. Her new husband must be very keen to consummate their marriage if he was sending her up to bed so early, she thought as she climbed the staircase as sedately as she could. In their room she found that Fanny had filled the jug on the washstand with hot water for her and shrugging out of her wedding outfit as quickly as she could, she hung it neatly away and washed herself thoroughly from head to foot. She then took the pins from her hair and brushed it until it gleamed and leaped into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. She lay watching the door with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. Slowly, the clock on the little shelf above the fireplace ticked away the minutes, then the hours and the house became still. By then Madeline was struggling to keep her eyes open. Perhaps Jacob was not going to come to her this evening after all?

  She had almost given up seeing him when the door suddenly barged open and he appeared. Without a word, he crossed to a chair and began to undress. Madeline looked away, deeply embarrassed. She had never seen a man completely naked before but she supposed she would have to get used to it now that she was a married woman. Minutes later, she felt the covers lift and Jacob slid in beside her. She turned her face to him, a shy smile on her face expecting him to kiss her and whisper sweet words but to her horror he tossed the bedclothes back and roughly dragged her nightdress above her waist making her cringe with embarrassment. Then without further ado he straddled her and thrust himself into her making her cry out with pain and distress.

  ‘J-Jacob … you’re hurting me,’ she gasped but he took no notice. He was bucking now and Madeline felt as if she were being rent in two. His thrusts became more and more frantic as she lay there feeling dirty and humiliated but then suddenly he stiffened and she felt something hot and sticky between her legs. Jacob seemed to collapse on top of her but then he rose from the bed and dragged his trousers back o
n. ‘B … but where are you going?’ She was openly crying now.

  ‘To my own room, of course,’ he informed her, then without so much as another word he left.

  Once he had gone she curled herself into a tight ball and sobbed uncontrollably. She felt defiled and soiled. She crawled from the bed and washed herself with the now cold water but she still felt dirty. Will I ever feel clean again? she wondered in despair. There had been no tenderness or love in their coming together and she wondered if Aunt Gertie had been right. It seemed there was truth in the old saying, ‘Marry in haste repent at leisure!’ But it was too late now, the deed was done. She was a married woman for better or worse and, somehow, she was going to have to try and make the best of it.

  Slinking back to the bed she pulled the blankets over her head and cried herself to sleep.

  Chapter One

  Nuneaton 1892

  ‘Our furniture and personal possessions will be delivered over the next few days. Make sure that someone is in at all times to receive them. We shall take up residence a week from today. I will sleep in my late uncle’s room and you will prepare another room for my wife. I also expect the rooms above the stables to be cleared out and made habitable for my groom and two stables made ready for the horses. My meals will be served on time and I do not believe in waste so I expect you to be thrifty with the housekeeping money. Is that quite clear?’ The stern-faced man stared down at the cook-cum-housekeeper who was standing to one side of the front door with the young general maid. She bobbed her knee. Her head was spinning, for he had not stopped barking orders at her since the second he arrived.

  ‘Perfectly, sir.’ How would they possibly have everything ready in time? The stable block and the rooms above it had stood empty for years and she dreaded to think what a state they would be in. As for being thrifty, she had always prided herself on keeping a good table without being extravagant. Her old master had certainly never had cause for complaint. And how strange that he and his young wife were to sleep apart.

  The man’s dark eyebrows beetled into a frown as he eyed her disdainfully. ‘You will address me as Judge Kettle at all times, woman.’