A Woman of Influence (23 page)

She stood a while beside the water, looking across to the meadows beyond, lost in her troubled thoughts, when suddenly she thought she saw a figure in the spinney, moving swiftly in and out of the trees.

Glimpsed only for a moment, in fading light, Becky could not be sure who or what it might be and strained her eyes to see if she could make out anyone she might identify. But even as she looked, clouds moved over the setting sun, deepening the shade. It was almost dusk, and save for the slender trunks of the poplars, all else was vague and indistinct.

Becky waited; if whoever it was showed himself again, she thought, she would have to investigate.

Around the grounds, birds were returning to their nests in the trees as the light receded and then suddenly, just as she thought her eyes may have deceived her, a slim figure slipped for a moment out of the darkness of the spinney into the last of the evening light, stood there a moment, and then stepped back into the shelter of the trees again.

Becky did not stop to think; she knew only that whoever it was had to be a link with Alice Grey, and she intended to find out why he (or she) was there.

Without even a backward glance towards the house, she set out along the path that would take her around the lake, through the meadow, and into the spinney.

That the person had twice stepped out of the trees, quite deliberately, suggested to her that he or she had wanted to be seen.

Becky knew she must have been clearly visible to whoever it was, as she stood in the open at the lake's edge. She had not stopped to consider the risk she took in approaching the unknown figure.

Something, perhaps the fact that the person was slight and appeared to be clad in a long robe or gown, had allayed her fears.

As she approached the edge of the spinney, however, Becky, conscious of the darkness that surrounded her, wished she had a light. She stopped, wondering if it might not be sensible to return to the house for a lantern and a servant to accompany her; but then thought, "What if the person takes fright and flees?"

She stepped back only for a moment, considering how she should proceed, when there was a rustle in the bushes, and panicked by the sound, she asked quickly, "Who's there? What do you want?"

When the answer came, "Please, ma'am, it's me--Alice," her relief was indescribable.

"Are you alone?" Becky asked when she got her breath back.

"Yes, ma'am," said the girl, stepping out of the trees and moving towards her. "I had to come, ma'am; I had to know if my boy was safe. Is he with you, ma'am?" she asked, and though Becky could not see her face clearly, the strain in her voice was unmistakable.

Becky was momentarily stunned into silence, then in a rush she asked, "Good God, Alice, what have you done? Why did you not speak to me?

"Yes, Tom is here, and he is well looked after, but he is restless and asks always for you. Where have you been?"

"Poor mite, he doesn't understand," said the girl softly.

"And neither do I. What has been happening, Alice? I must know," Becky insisted and added, "It's very cold out here, will you not come back to the house?"

Alice drew her shawl around her and shook her head.

"Not today, ma'am; I came only to see you if I could, to say I was sorry for the way I left you and to discover if my Tom was safe. I cannot stay."

Becky was bewildered. "Why ever not? What have you done? You are not in any trouble I hope?"

"Indeed no, ma'am," Alice replied. "It is only that it will cause too much talk among the servants and get around the village. It's best I avoid that for a little while."

Becky wanted to know more.

"Have you seen your husband?"

Alice replied softly as if afraid she might be overheard. "No, ma'am, but I have sent him a message through a friend, and he will come as soon as he can, I am sure of it."

"And where are you staying?"

"I am sorry, ma'am, but I cannot say. But please do not be anxious for me, I am in no danger; I am with a family in the village--they are good, kind folk."

"Are you sure?" With every answer Becky's astonishment grew.

"Yes, ma'am, and I promise to be very careful, as you instructed me. I do know there's folk who would like to get a hold of me, but I won't be tricked, ma'am. I know what I want, and I am determined to have it."

Becky urged her to return to the house, but without success. "I have been so anxious about you--last night I almost went to the police."

This brought the girl almost to her knees; she reached out and held on to Becky's hands as she pleaded, "Please, ma'am, not the police, I beg you. They will only take my husband away again and send me back to Blessington! You must not go to the police."

Becky gave her word, but added, "Then I need to know where you may be found. What do I do if Tom sickens for his mother and will not eat or sleep? How shall I find you?"

Alice responded quickly, "If you need to find me urgently because Tom is sick and only because Tom is sick, please leave a message at the parsonage. Mr Jamison will know how to find me. I will return later in the week, and if need be, I shall come to see my boy. Please, ma'am, trust me, as soon as I hear from William, I promise to return."

Becky was unable to decide what to think of this plan or how she might advise her. It seemed Alice Grey had made her own plans, and there was little anyone could do to change them.

Becky asked if she had enough money, and the girl replied that she had sufficient for now. "I don't need much, now Tom is with you, ma'am. Thank you for that thought, ma'am, and God bless you," she said as she held on to Becky's hand for a while longer.

Becky could not hold back her tears; she was glad of the darkness as she drew the girl to her in a swift embrace and let her go, urging her again to take care.

There was something about Alice Grey that went directly to her heart; a mixture of innocence and resilience that put her in mind of Josie.

She went, swiftly and quietly, taking the path through the churchyard into the village. There was by now only the light of the rising moon, and her slight figure in its dark garments was soon lost from sight among the trees. Becky prayed she would be safe.

Returning to the house, Becky found Mrs Bates and Nelly in a state of some anxiety because their mistress had gone out to walk around the grounds and not returned. With Alice's disappearance, their nervousness had increased and their relief when she walked in the door was palpable.

They were eager to know why she was late; it was almost dinnertime.

Becky gave some vague explanation about being entranced by the sunset and the early rising moon, then went directly upstairs to dress for dinner.

This time, she could confide in no one. Becky felt more alone than ever.

Two things happened unexpectedly in the days following that significantly altered Becky's perception of the matter concerning Alice Grey and her husband William Rickman.

Mr Colin Elliott, MP, responded to her letter much earlier than she had expected. As a member of the recently elected government of Mr Gladstone, Becky had assumed he would be too busy with matters of state to pay close attention to her request.

But, as he was a courteous and discreet gentleman, she had anticipated a polite but brief reply would be forthcoming in a fortnight or so, which was why his swift response surprised and delighted her. In it, he acknowledged her own efforts in gathering the information she had sent him regarding the case of William Rickman. He wrote:

He concluded with his best regards and expressed the hope that he would soon hear when she could arrange to come up to London.

Becky, already pleased by his prompt response, was elated by his opinion on the case of William Rickman, which had been clearly given after some serious consideration. It was now even more pressing that she should find Alice Grey and urge her to take great care not to be discovered.

How to do this was a question she was pondering with some concern, when without warning, her sister Catherine arrived looking very grave indeed. Surprised, Becky went to greet her, only to be asked in a hushed voice if they could speak in confidence, without being overheard.

Becky's surprise turned to astonishment, but she said, "Of course," and took Catherine up to her room directly, instructing Nelly to bring them tea and biscuits, but thereafter, to ensure they were not disturbed.

Catherine had never appeared so serious, and Becky was most anxious to discover what it was had caused her to look so solemn.

Once Nelly had brought in the tea tray and left the room, Becky could hardly wait to ask, "Cathy, what is it? I can see that you are distressed; what has happened?"

Catherine put down her cup and spoke softly, "Becky, my dear, I must ask you to prepare yourself for a shock. I had to come because it was important that you should not be left in ignorance."

"Left in ignorance of what?" Becky interrupted.

"Mr Jamison has been to see me," replied Catherine, who was clearly troubled and seemed to struggle to explain, "and he wished to confess..."

"Mr Jamison wished to confess? Confess what?" Consternation was written all over Becky's face.

"What indeed," said her sister. "Becky, he has admitted to deceiving you. He is ashamed of having done so and could not face you himself; I think he hoped, by telling me, to alleviate some of that shame, and he has asked me to convey his most profound apologies to you."

"In what way has he deceived me?" asked Becky, even more confused.

Catherine's voice was low as she explained that he had done so in a good cause, apparently to protect Alice Grey from discovery.

Catherine revealed that it
was
the ex-convict who had brought Alice a message from her husband, and Mr Jamison, who took it from him and delivered the note to Alice Grey, whom he had met secretly in the woods.

He had also agreed, when Alice had decided to go with the man to meet her husband, to look after her son, Tom, whom she had arranged to deliver to the parsonage. When Becky had asked him about Alice's disappearance, he had not been honest with her; he was sorry about that, but he had given Alice his word, Catherine explained.

"And does he know where she is?" Becky demanded to know. "Cathy, I am responsible for her safety. I must know."

"He says he does not know where she is, but he does have the means to contact her. He has promised to help her and wishes me to explain this to you. I believe he hopes you will forgive his actions--he tells me he is truly sorry, Becky, and I have no reason to doubt his word."

But Becky was not so easily placated. She said, "Why could he not have taken me into his confidence? He knew how anxious I was... I cannot understand why he felt he had to deceive me. He knows I have the girl's interest at heart."

"He does, and he is very contrite, Becky," said Catherine.

"So he should be. If he continues to help Alice Grey, I have no quarrel with him, but I must be able to trust him. You may tell him that, Cathy, but tell him also that I am deeply hurt. I have been through days of unnecessary anxiety. However, I am prepared to forget the matter, if he will promise to be honest with me in the future."

Catherine was certain that Mr Jamison, who was generally liked in the community he served, would have no difficulty with such a promise. She knew, too, that he feared Becky's disapproval.

The sisters, clearly relieved to have that part of their conversation finished and done with, proceeded to other, more congenial matters.

As Becky revealed more of the circumstances surrounding Alice Grey and her husband, including the interest taken in the case by Mr Colin Elliott, Catherine began to comprehend the gravity of the situation. Her initial inclination had been sympathetic, but clearly more was required in the face of recent developments, and she felt she had to support Becky in her efforts to obtain some justice for the couple, who were clearly victims of wicked, corrupt men, at the least.

When Becky mentioned Mr Elliott's request that she travel to London to meet his colleague the lawyer, who might be of help to them, she had not expected that her sister would welcome this suggestion. Not only did Catherine listen thoughtfully, she went so far as to encourage her to go.