She shook her head. ‘No, at least not very well. We had lessons at school but I’m afraid I have no talent for music.’
He acknowledged this admission with a smile and a slight shrug of his shoulders. ‘But you like to read?’
She glanced at the bookshelves which occupied a whole wall and the piles of magazines and periodicals on a table beneath one of the tall windows. ‘Yes, but we had to leave the books and everything else in Duke Street. We can’t afford luxuries like that now.’ Cassy stopped, biting her lip. She could not think why she had allowed such an admission to slip. She felt the colour rise to her cheeks and she picked up a chess piece from a set laid out on a small table. ‘I’m sure the men are extremely comfortable here,’ she murmured, changing the subject.
‘Some of the men will never leave here as they have nowhere else to go and no one to care for them. Others will leave as soon as they are fit enough to earn their own living. Come with me and you can see the workrooms.’
‘I thought it would be like a hospital,’ Cassy said as they went from room to room on the ground floor. She listened intently as Cade explained that the men were being helped to rebuild their lives by mastering new skills or simply relearning old ones which had been made almost impossible by their injuries.
From a window overlooking the garden at the back of the house, he pointed to the washhouse where smoke belched from the chimney and trickles of steam escaped through gaps in the door. ‘We do everything we can to help the men return to as normal a way of living as possible. Those who are able work in the laundry, and we grow our own vegetables and fruit. Some of them choose to work in the kitchen, and we encourage those who show promise to find work in hotel kitchens, or take up positions in large houses. Part of the charity is set up to find households willing to take on men who would in general be overlooked by other employers.’
Cassy felt her throat constrict as she watched a young man attempting to paint a picture using his left hand, when he was obviously right-handed but had lost that arm below the elbow. He was frowning and holding the tip of his tongue between his teeth as he concentrated. He looked up at her and grinned. ‘Don’t think it’ll ever get in the Royal Academy, miss.’
She moved closer, studying the work with a critical eye, realising instinctively that fulsome praise would not be welcome. ‘I’d think I was clever if I could do half as well.’
He angled his head. ‘Ta, miss. I take that as very encouraging. If I had both me legs I’d stand up and give you a kiss, but as you see I’m waiting for me peg to be made.’
Cassy looked down and realised with a sickening feeling in her stomach that his right leg had been amputated below the knee. She felt the colour drain from her face but she forced her lips into a smile. ‘I’ll keep you to that when we meet again.’
‘I should have me peg leg in time for Christmas, miss. I’ll make certain we’ve got a big bunch of mistletoe.’
‘I think Miss Davenport might have other commitments on Christmas Day, Jack,’ Cade said, patting him on the back.
Cassy met the young soldier’s gaze and saw pain, cynicism and a hint of despair in their blue depths. Suddenly she was seeing Bailey sitting there, terribly disabled and needing to feel that he was still a man. ‘I’ll be here,’ she said softly. ‘And make sure you get the biggest bunch of mistletoe you can find.’
‘That was kind, but you shouldn’t make promises that you don’t intend to keep,’ Cade said as they left the room and made their way towards the entrance hall.
‘But I will keep it. I meant every word I said, Captain. That poor boy deserves all the encouragement he can get if he’s to survive outside this place. I know how hard life can be for people who are even slightly different from the rest, so how will it be for a young man like Jack? I’ll come on Christmas morning, if you’ll allow it.’
He acknowledged her words with a slight nod of his head. ‘You’re welcome here at any time, Cassy. Just the sight of a pretty face and a friendly smile will have worked on the men better than any tonic that a physician could prescribe.’
‘But you can’t go to that place on Christmas Day,’ Flora said, pausing as she was about to close the parlour curtains against the darkness outside. ‘What were you thinking of, Cassy? Mullins is expecting us at Whitegate Farm. Had you forgotten?’
‘No,’ Cassy said, meeting her angry gaze with a straight look. ‘I hadn’t forgotten, but I think this is more important. If you’d seen those poor men, you would want to do anything you could to make their lives more bearable.’
‘It sounds as though this Captain Cade fellow is doing well enough without your help,’ Flora snapped. ‘Really, Cassy, I won’t have my arrangements put out because you want to play angel of mercy.’
‘That’s not fair.’ Belinda looked up from darning one of Oliver’s socks. ‘Cassy is following her conscience and I think she should be allowed to do as she pleases.’
‘You were always too soft, Belle.’ Flora went to sit by the fire, holding her hands out to the blaze. ‘I say we should take care of our own. After all, Oliver and Bailey will be sailing for India on the Friday after Christmas, and we should make certain they have happy memories of home. Never mind fussing around after strangers.’
‘I understand what you’re saying, Flora, but I think Cassy must do what she thinks is right.’
‘I can come on later,’ Cassy said, fingering the silver locket that hung round her neck, which she had made a vow not to take off until Bailey was safely home again. ‘Perhaps I could travel with Lottie and Mr Solomon. I believe he said he was going to hire a dog cart for the day.’
Flora twitched her shoulders and her mouth drooped at the corners, a sure sign that she intended to have the last word. ‘We would be in a sorry plight without the money that Mullins pays me for his lessons, not to mention the gifts of eggs, meat and poultry. He may be a yeoman but he’s a good man and should be given the respect he deserves.’ She rose to her feet and flounced out of the room.
‘Well,’ Cassy said. ‘I think she has a soft spot for Mr Mullins.’
‘I believe you’re right,’ Belinda said with a smile that brought the dimples to her cheeks. ‘But we’ve grown to rely on his generosity, and once the boys have gone we’ll need every penny we can get. It’s going to be a long, hard winter, Cassy.’
‘I’ll find work, Ma. I should have been out looking instead of gallivanting about with Oliver and Bailey.’
‘You’re young, my love. You deserve to have a bit of fun and the boys are only here for a short time. I’ll put an advertisement in the newspaper offering my services to ladies who wish to learn etiquette and deportment. With a few more clients I can make up for the loss of your earnings in the pub, and I don’t want you to go back to that sort of place. It isn’t for a girl like you, Cassy.’
Cassy frowned. ‘Who am I really, Ma? I was a servant, and then I was educated like a young lady. I’m your daughter but I’m not a Davenport, and at the ball the other night it was even more obvious that I’m not like the other girls. Would Captain Peters have treated me like that if he’d thought I was a lady?’
Belinda dropped the sock and clasped both Cassy’s hands, looking deeply into her eyes. ‘You are yourself, my dear sweet daughter. And your suffering was caused by my youthful folly, for which I’ll never forgive myself, but your father was a good man and I loved him with all my heart. If he were here now he’d dispel all the doubts your have about yourself.’
‘Tell me about him, Ma. Who was he? What was his name?’
‘I can’t tell you, my darling. If I speak his name my heart will break all over again. I will love him until I die, but I beg of you don’t ask me any more. It’s my secret and it’s too painful to share, even with you.’
Cassy wrapped her arms around her mother, and their tears mingled. ‘I’m sorry,’ Cassy whispered. ‘I won’t ever mention him again. You’re my mother and I’ve found you; that’s all that matters.’
The snow was several inches deep by Christmas morning and a pale primrose sun beamed down from a whitewashed sky. The roofs and pavements sparkled beneath its rays and a powdering of snow that had fallen during the night had temporarily covered the black slush churned up by horses’ hooves and wagon wheels. After breakfast, when they had exchanged small gifts, Cassy set off for Stepney Green accompanied by Bailey who refused to let her go on her own. ‘I want to see this place for myself,’ he said with a stubborn lift of his chin. ‘I know that Cade is well respected but we don’t know anything about the men in his care.’
Walking along at his side, Cassy slipped her hand through the crook of his arm. ‘From what I saw they’re decent men who’ve suffered dreadful injuries. Captain Cade seemed to think it was a good idea, and I’m only going there to give Jack a kiss beneath the mistletoe.’
‘What?’ Bailey came to a sudden halt, staring at her in horror. ‘You didn’t mention that when you told your mother about the visit.’
A gurgle of laughter escaped from Cassy’s lips and she squeezed his arm. ‘It’s only a peck on the cheek, Bailey. My virtue isn’t in any danger.’
‘Not with me at your side it isn’t. I don’t know what that fellow Cade was about when he agreed to such a thing.’
‘Don’t look so disapproving. When I saw poor Jack I thought that it could have been you or Ollie wounded and in need of someone to show that they cared about you.’
He patted her hand as it rested on his arm. ‘I know you meant well and I’m being a bear, but I’m still coming with you. The slightest hint of disrespect and I’ll soon put them in their place.’
‘Come along then. It’s only round the corner and if we don’t hurry Mr Solomon and Lottie will call for us before we’ve had time to wish them a merry Christmas.’ She tugged at his arm, laughing as their feet skidded on the frozen surface of the snow. ‘It’s like skating,’ she giggled. ‘You’ll think of this when you’re back in the heat of India.’
Bailey’s hand tightened on her arm, and as she saw the muscles in his jaw tighten she felt a pang of remorse. The day after tomorrow she would have to say goodbye to him yet again. Bailey and Oliver would sail on the tide for a war in a far-off land that meant nothing to her. He would risk his life along with hundreds of other young men, some of whom would never return. Their time together was precious and she must not waste a second of it.
They arrived flushed and breathless and were admitted by Cade himself. ‘So you came,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d remember.’
‘Of course I did. I wouldn’t let Jack down and I’ve brought my friend Bailey with me, as you can see.’
‘We met at the ball, I believe, Corporal Bailey.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Bailey snapped to attention.
‘There’s no need for formality,’ Cade said, smiling. ‘It’s many years since I was a serving officer. Come inside and meet some of the men. They’ve been looking forward to this for days, Cassy. I hope I may call you that as we’re being informal.’
‘Of course,’ she said, gazing in admiration at the swags of holly and ivy that had been draped over picture frames and around the doorways. ‘It looks very festive.’
‘We try,’ he said, leading the way to the drawing room. A gust of warm air and the tempting aroma of hot mince pies greeted them as they entered the room. The men who were able rose to their feet, and others whose injuries made it impossible for them to stand unaided began to clap their hands and cheer.
Overwhelmed and embarrassed by the sudden glare of attention, Cassy felt the blood rush to her cheeks. ‘Merry Christmas,’ she murmured.
Jack limped towards her leaning heavily on his crutches. He glanced upwards and following his gaze she saw a bunch of mistletoe hanging from the gasolier. She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, receiving a round of applause. ‘How are you, Jack,’ she asked shyly.
From his jacket pocket he produced a small picture in a gilt frame, pressing it into her hand. ‘Merry Christmas, miss. I done this one just for you.’
Her vision was blurred with tears as she gazed at the painting which was obviously meant to be a portrait of her. It was childish in execution but somehow he had managed to capture her likeness. Large doe-like eyes gazed back at her from an oval face and what it lacked in technical ability was more than compensated for by the way he had managed to capture a sense of tenderness and serenity. ‘It’s lovely,’ she breathed. ‘You are very clever, Jack. Thank you.’ She showed it to Cade and then to Bailey, who nodded and agreed that it was a good effort.
‘Sit down, miss,’ Jack said, indicating an empty chair. ‘You’ll take a glass of Christmas cheer and a mince pie with us, I hope. Old Badger made them so I can’t vouch for the pastry, but he does his best.’
This remark was received with a ripple of comments and laughter and an older man with a patch over one eye and two fingers missing off his left hand shuffled forward with a plate of mince pies. Cade served the punch and Cassy found herself besieged by well-wishers, all of them simply wanting to speak to her or to give her a whiskery kiss on the cheek. With Bailey standing close by her side and Cade watching their every move, not even the boldest amongst them would have said or done anything to embarrass her. She was beginning to enjoy herself when the housekeeper announced that Mr Solomon had come to collect the young lady. Reluctantly, Cassy said goodbye to her new friends, and she thanked Jack yet again for the painting.
‘You will come again, won’t you, miss?’ he asked anxiously. ‘You’ve really brightened out day.’