Authors: Dilly Court
‘Robert, of course, after me. He’s got a fine pair of
lungs
on him, Kate. No doubt you’ll hear him when he wakes up for his feed. Do you want to go up now and see him?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t want to disturb Honoria. I expect she needs her rest. I’m really tired after the journey from London. If you don’t mind, Pa, I think I’ll go straight to bed.’
He cleared his throat, staring down at his socked feet. ‘Er, Kate, my dear. I’m afraid we had to move your things into the attic room.’
‘What?’ She stared at him in disbelief. ‘Why would you do a thing like that?’
‘Honoria thought that your bedroom would make a good nursery. It makes sense, maidy. Tilda’s room is too small to take a cradle as well as her bed, and your old room is closer to ours.’
‘You’ve taken my bedroom without asking me? And why the attic? If it was going to be done, then why wasn’t I put in Molly’s room, the one that Honoria gave to Tilda?’
‘Come now, maidy, you know that’s little more than a box room. There’s plenty of space for all your pretty things in the attic.’
‘Amongst the spiders and mice! No one has slept up there since Sam moved to the cottage. I’d rather be cramped and warm in the small room than freeze to death under the eaves.’
‘It’s out of the question, maidy. Honoria wanted a dressing room. She said that is what proper ladies have and who was I to deny it to her, especially in her delicate condition.’
Kate flung up her hands. ‘She’s changed everything. I simply can’t believe you’ve let her get away with it, Pa.’
‘Don’t start putting on airs and graces, Kate. Honoria warned me that it might be like this. She said that no good would come of your having spent time with the gentry, and now I can see that she was right.’
‘But, Pa …’
He held up his hand. ‘That’s enough of that, daughter. I don’t want to hear another word on the subject.’
‘This is all her doing,’ Kate said angrily. ‘She’s been trying to push me out ever since you married her.’
‘Now you’re talking nonsense. Honoria is my wife and naturally I have to put her wishes first. You’ll sleep in the attic room and you won’t mention a word of this to her. She needs rest and quiet, and I won’t have women spitting at each other like farm cats, so you bear that in mind, maidy.’ He stomped out of the room, narrowly missing Molly who had just come through the door. She uttered a cry of delight.
‘Kate, you’ve come home. I was never so glad to see no one in my whole life.’ She ran to Kate, flinging her arms around her. ‘It’s been dreadful here since you went away.’
‘I’m home now, Molly,’ Kate said, holding her close. ‘Things will be better, I promise.’
Molly sniffed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. ‘I wish I could believe that. You can’t imagine what it’s been like. What with Honoria going on and on at me all the time, and that hateful Tilda creature behaving
like
she was the queen, there’s been times when I’ve felt like running away.’
‘I won’t let Tilda bully you, dear. And you can be sure that I’ll have a few words to say to Honoria in the morning.’
Molly pulled a face. ‘She’s a bitch and I don’t care who hears me say so. I spoke up for you when she told me to shift your things to the attic room, and I got a clout round the ear for me pains.’
‘It really doesn’t matter. I’m sure I’ll do very well under the eaves,’ Kate said with more confidence than she was feeling. ‘Best wrap up warm, Molly. Sam will be back for you in a moment or two.’
Molly eyed the dirty crockery in the stone sink. ‘I daren’t leave that lot till morning, Kate, or I’ll be in dire trouble.’
‘I’ll take care of it. Go home and get a good night’s rest. I’ll see you first thing and we’ll have a long chat. I’ll tell you all about my adventures in London.’
In the attic room, Kate put the candlestick down on the deal washstand and stood for a moment, gazing round with a tight knot of despair in her stomach. It was a large space under the eaves, with headroom in the apex only, and a small dormer window cut through the thick covering of thatch. A draught whistled through the cracks between the floorboards and she could hear the scrabbling sound of tiny feet in the rafters. She shuddered at the thought of rats and mice running around overhead. In her old room there would have been a fire blazing away in the grate,
gaily
patterned rugs on the polished floorboards and the comfortable bed in which she had slept when she was a child. Sleeping here was reminiscent of the bad old days in the mews, but perhaps a little better than lying on the dirt floor in Nanny Barnes’ house.
After a quick inspection, Kate found that her clothes had been put away neatly in a roughly constructed beech-wood chest, but there was neither a dressing table nor a mirror. She sat down on the edge of the truckle bed, grimacing at the hardness of the flock-filled mattress and the coarseness of the cotton sheets. She lay down, fully clothed, and wrapped herself in the coverlet. Cobwebs hung like grey lace from the rafters above her head and she closed her eyes, trying hard not to cry, but hot tears forced their way between her eyelids, cooling rapidly as they ran down her cheeks. She tried to force the memory of the precious hours seated opposite Harry in the first class compartment to the back of her mind, but she could still see the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, and hear the deep tones of his voice. Try as she might, she could not conjure up the louche, arrogant Harry Challenor she had met in the Soho Bazaar. That person might have existed in London society, but he was quite different from the man she had come to know.
She curled up in a ball beneath the thin coverlet. Allowing him to invade her thoughts would lead to misery and maybe even madness. He had taken Josie back to Damerell Manor, and Sir Joseph would almost
inevitably
see his actions as a declaration of his intent to marry her. This was the stark reality and she would have to deal with it as best she could.
She awakened early next morning. It was bitterly cold in her room even though winter was gradually giving way to a reluctant spring. She slipped off her crumpled gown and put on her old, serviceable working clothes. She tucked her hair into a cotton mobcap and pulled on her boots before making her way downstairs to the kitchen. The fire in the range was not quite out, and she riddled the ashes, adding some dry kindling and using the bellows to coax the embers into flame. When she had a good blaze going, she took a bucket from the scullery and went out into the yard to fetch water from the pump. She could hear the cows lowing in the barn and she guessed that Sam must have arrived to begin milking. At least that was one chore she would be able to take off his shoulders now that she was home.
Trudging back across the yard, Kate glanced up at her father’s bedroom window. The curtains were drawn and there was no telltale chink of light to suggest that he was up and about. She had been awakened in the night by the strange sound of a baby crying, and it had taken her a few moments to realise that it was her tiny half-brother who was making all that noise. She knew she ought to feel something for a child who was related to her by blood, but somehow she could not summon up any enthusiasm for Honoria’s baby. Perhaps she would grow to love him. She turned her head as she heard the muffled sound
of
approaching footsteps, and she saw Molly hurrying towards her, red-cheeked from exertion and panting. ‘I’m late. I overslept and Sam didn’t wake me.’
‘Don’t worry. I seem to be the only one who is up, and I’ve seen to the fire. Come inside, Molly. We’ll have a nice hot cup of tea.’ Kate picked up the bucket of water and hooked her free arm around Molly’s shoulders.
‘Don’t never go away again, Kate,’ Molly said, shivering. ‘Promise you won’t leave us.’
‘I won’t leave you, Molly.’
‘And you’ll tell that old hag a few home truths?’
‘That too.’
Later that morning, when Kate entered her father’s bedroom, she found Honoria sitting up in bed with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders and the baby suckling at her breast. Her expression was not welcoming. ‘So you’ve deigned to return home.’
‘Good morning, Honoria. How are you this morning?’
‘Don’t use that saucy tone with me, young lady. And don’t put on airs just because you’ve been mixing with people above your station. You’re home now and you’ll have to learn your place.’
‘I’m still my father’s daughter, Honoria.’
‘And this is my son, your baby brother. Aren’t you happy to see him?’ Honoria’s eyes issued a challenge even as her lips twisted into a semblance of a smile. She stroked the baby’s downy head. ‘He is a fine boy. See how he feeds on my milk. Soon he will be big and strong and he will inherit the farm.’
‘The farm belongs to the Damerell estate. Your son will never own it.’
Honoria’s lips tightened into a pencil-thin line. ‘And you will remain a poor spinster for the rest of your days. You should have taken up Squire Westwood’s offer. At least you would have had a roof over your head, and I’m sure he would have been very generous, providing you kept a civil tongue in your head.’
‘Why don’t you say what you really mean, Honoria? You want me out of this house, don’t you?’
‘Yes, between you and me, that is exactly what I want. There is not room enough here for both of us.’
‘My father would have something to say about that.’
‘Don’t try to come between a man and his wife, my dear. I have weapons that you do not possess.’
‘I don’t doubt it, and I have too much respect for my father to want to make him unhappy. But you had no right to turn me out of my room.’
Honoria shifted the baby to the other breast. ‘I’ve every right. As an unmarried daughter you have no say in anything. You are a nobody.’
‘My father doesn’t think so.’
‘Robert agrees with everything I say. I can do no wrong, and I must not be upset or my milk will dry up. Don’t try and fight me, my girl, for it is you who will come off the worst. Now stop bothering me and go about your business on the farm. Send Molly up with my breakfast. I want tea and toast, butter and honey too.’
‘You can treat me as you please, Honoria. But I
won’t
allow you to bully Molly. She has been like a sister to me and she deserves better.’
Honoria curled her lip. ‘Well, you two sisters might find yourselves living together in the poorhouse if you continue to cross me. Now do as I say, and send Tilda to me as well. Baby needs changing and putting down for his nap.’
Biting back a sharp retort, Kate made a hurried exit. She went to knock on Tilda’s door, and without waiting for a reply she opened it and walked into the room – her room. Tilda was standing in front of the dressing table admiring her reflection in the mirror. She turned with a guilty start and her hand flew to the string of beads at her throat.
‘You little thief,’ Kate cried in horror. ‘That’s my necklace. Take it off this instant.’
Tilda’s eyes widened in fear as Kate advanced towards her. She fumbled with the clasp at the back of her neck. ‘I found it. I didn’t know it was yours.’
‘You’re lying. My mother gave me that string of beads, and it was in my dressing table drawer. Molly must have missed it when she took my things up to the attic, unless you had found it first and intended to keep it for yourself.’
‘No, miss. Honestly, I found it in the back of the drawer. I was just trying it on.’ Tilda’s fingers trembled as she handed the necklace to Kate. ‘Take it. What do I want with glass beads, anyway?’
Kate snatched it from her. ‘You have no right to be in this room in the first place, and if you ever touch any of my things again I’ll see that you are dismissed.’
She
had not meant to blurt that out. None of this was Tilda’s fault, but seeing her with Ma’s necklace, even if it was only made out of cheap glass beads, had made something snap inside her.
‘The mistress put me in here. It weren’t my fault.’ Tilda’s small eyes glittered with cunning. ‘I’ll tell her that you want your room back, shall I, miss?’
‘You’ll do nothing of the sort.’ Kate made a move towards the door. ‘She wants you. Go to her. That’s what I came to say.’
‘Now you know how it feels,’ Tilda said, sidling past Kate. ‘Being treated like a servant ain’t no fun, is it, miss?’ She shot out of the room and ran along the landing, turning her head and poking out her tongue as she reached Honoria’s door.
Kate ignored the gesture, slipping the beads into her pocket with a sigh as she went downstairs to the kitchen to pass Honoria’s order for breakfast onto Molly.
‘I’ll give her tea and toast,’ Molly said, hacking at the loaf. ‘And I’d like to stick her head in the hive and let the dumbledores sting her to pieces.’
An involuntary chuckle escaped from Kate’s lips, relieving the hard knot of anger that had stuck in her throat. Molly, who was normally so quiet and gentle, was attacking the bread like an avenging angel. She looked up at Kate and frowned. ‘Have I said something funny?’
Kate shook her head. ‘No, Molly dear. It’s just that I’ve never seen you so angry, but it’s not at all funny. If I didn’t laugh, I’d cry.’
‘That’s what makes me so mad,’ Molly said, brandishing the knife. ‘She can say what she likes to me, but the old cow is treating you worse than a slave. I can’t stand by and watch it, Kate.’
‘Don’t upset yourself, Molly. I have broad shoulders and I’ll deal with Honoria in my own way. In the meantime, I suggest you toast that bread and take up her breakfast tray. I’m going out to collect the eggs.’
Molly muttered something unintelligible as she jabbed the toasting fork into the bread. Kate took her workaday fustian jacket from its peg and shrugged it on. She slipped her booted feet into her pattens before venturing out into the muddy farmyard. As she made her way to the hen house she knew that life was going to be difficult from here on. She was tempted to seek out her father and put her case to him, but she knew in her heart that Honoria was right in her assumption that he would take her side. Pa was no longer a grieving widower dependent on his daughter for everything. He was a middle-aged man who was besotted with a younger woman, and she had given him a son. No longer a mere housekeeper, Honoria was now revelling in her position as wife and mother, and she had made it clear that she did not want a rival for her husband’s affection.