The Girl with the Red Ribbon (20 page)

‘Mrs Acland says if there's anything else yous need, yous to ring the bell,' Daisy said, dipping a little curtsy and hurrying from the room. Rowan smiled. Nobody had ever curtsied to her before. Then hunger overtook her and she turned her attention to supper. She'd lost count of the number of pots of broth she'd made since her mother had died, but had to concede this was the most delicious she'd ever tasted. Wiping out the mug with the last of her bread, she set the tray on the table beside the bed. Her head sank into the soft pillows and she drifted off to sleep, thinking she'd never smelled anything as comforting as the lavender that scented the crisp, cotton pillowslips.

She woke with a start, but there were no snores or
grunts coming from other beds. Opening her eyes, she saw the light of early morning filtering through the drapes. As she stared around the room, it was a few moments before she remembered that she was no longer in the asylum but a guest in the superintendent's family home. Feeling invigorated after her night's sleep, and relieved to be free, she jumped from the bed and threw back the curtains. Outside, the lawns were sparkling with dew and she could hear the chirruping of sparrows and the singing of blackbirds. In the fields beyond the gardens she could see cows grazing. Suddenly, she was filled with an overwhelming longing to be outside in the fresh air. There was no sign of her dress or shawl, but a night wrap was draped over the chair beside the fire. Someone, probably Daisy, had evidently been in whilst she was asleep, damped it down and pulled the guard around it as well as removing her supper tray. Goodness, she was being treated like royalty she thought.

Quietly she opened the bedroom door. Then, anxious not to waken anyone, she tiptoed down the stairs and along the hallway. Not hearing anyone moving about, she let herself outside into the crisp morning air. She stood there for a few moments, breathing in the fresh air and marvelling at the wondrous sense of liberty that surged through her veins. Giving in to the urge to feel the grass beneath her bare feet, she skipped onto the lawn and began to dance. Joy flooded through her and she swayed and dipped with gay abandon. She remembered her grandfather saying that freedom never tasted sweeter than when it was restored after it had been taken from you, and that it should never be taken for granted. Now she
understood what he had meant. With the first rays of the new day's sun spreading their red fingertips across the eastern sky, she knew what she had to do. Spotting a bird's feather on the lawn, still anointed with the morning dew, she bent and picked it up. Waving it in the air above her head, she chanted:

As I feel the wind blow free

And all around me balanced be,

This feather I present to thee

With thanks for all eternity.

So mote it be.

Plucking a Lent lily from the border, Rowan kissed it, then fell to her knees on the damp grass. Placing the flower and feather in the shape of a V on the ground before her, she closed her eyes.

‘Well, well, well. So still you dance and chant, Rowan.'

Springing to her feet, she turned to see the superintendent staring at her in surprise.

‘I'm sorry for picking one of your flowers, sir, but I was just giving blessings for my freedom,' Rowan explained, embarrassed at having been caught dancing on his lawn.

‘You were giving blessings? That's remarkable, Rowan. Most people would be bitter at having been locked away unfairly,' he said, shaking his head.

‘Mother taught me that it's better to be thankful for the good things in life than to dwell on misfortune. She said bitterness begets bitterness, and that the only person who suffers then is yourself.'

‘It sounds as if she was very wise, Rowan. Now I seem to remember one of your other talents was blessing cattle, so tell me, are you going to switch the cows over there, too?' Amusement twitched his lips as he pointed to the field beyond.

‘Now I know you mock me, sir.'

‘Far from it, Rowan, although I do wish you would call me Mr Acland. Actually, it gladdens my heart to see a young woman enjoying the great outdoors. Some are more concerned about the wind ruffling their coiffure,' he said, his eyes clouding. ‘Still, it's a beautiful day, is it not?' His face brightened as he looked about him, breathing in the fresh country air.

‘Oh, yes, Mr Acland,' Rowan agreed, and couldn't help thinking how much younger he looked when he relaxed.
‘And this is such a delightful garden,' she said, staring at the flowerbeds awash with colourful spring blooms.

‘It is indeed. Do you know that the word “garden” comes from the Hebrew, and means a pleasant place?'

‘No, I didn't, but it is truly the right word for it, isn't it? And it goes with your glorious mansion,' she said, gesturing to the magnificent building behind them.

‘I agree it is a glorious house; hardly a mansion, though. It was originally built as the vicarage. Somewhat ironic, really, considering Father's business interests …' Hearing noises coming from the stables, he tailed off and when he resumed it was in his habitual serious manner.

‘Rowan, although you look delightful in that white nightgown, with all your glorious hair flowing free, I think you should take yourself indoors before Mother rises and sees you.'

‘Oh,' she gasped, suddenly aware she was standing before him wearing only her night attire. ‘I'm sorry, sir.'

‘Don't be. You look quite charming,' he said. Then, giving a nervous cough, he added, ‘Cook and Daisy are already about their business so if I were you I'd sneak in via the French doors over there. It wouldn't do to cause any tittle-tattle, now, would it?' He pointed to a pair of open glass doors behind them. The sound of hooves on gravel could be heard and he became solemn. ‘That sounds like Jenson ready to take me to the asylum. I'll remember to enquire about your friend Susan,' he assured Rowan.

As she watched him striding away, she couldn't help thinking what a mixture of a man he was. He obviously loved the garden, and had looked almost boyish when
he'd spoken about it, then in a snap he was the officious superintendent. Remembering his advice, she ran towards the open doors, hoping she'd be able to find her way back up to the Lilac Room.

When she had quickly climbed the stairs and entered her bedroom, she found Daisy bent beside the fireplace riddling the ashes. Her eyes widened in amazement when she saw Rowan.

‘Have yous been outside like that, miss?' she asked, staring at Rowan's feet. Looking down, Rowan saw they were covered with blades of grass.

‘I'm afraid I couldn't resist, Daisy. After being cooped up indoors at the …' she stumbled to a halt.

‘Lunatic asylum,' the maid finished for her. Rowan stared at her in surprise. ‘I recognized the dress when yous arrived, miss. I had a similar brown one when I was at the orphanage. Now I've got a smart uniform,' she said, getting to her feet and smoothing down her white apron. ‘I've laid out a dress for yous but I've a feeling it's going to be too big, what with yous being the same size as me,' she said, her eyes narrowing as she assessed Rowan.

Looking at the yellow day dress that was carefully set over the back of the chair, Rowan could see that it was much too long. Still, she was grateful Mrs Acland had thought to provide something for her to wear. Her skin was still chafed from the rough materials of the asylum uniform, and she didn't want to put it on ever again.

‘Ma'am said to tell you she'll see yous downstairs in the breakfast room. Do yous need any help, miss, only I'm a bit behind this morning and Cook will have me guts for garters if I don't hurry up?' Daisy asked.

‘No,
I can manage, thank you, Daisy. Look, why don't you let me finish that before I have a wash?' she asked, pointing to the grate. To her dismay, the girl glowered at her.

‘This is my job. I might be slow but I'm learning, so don't think yous going to steal it,' she said, resuming her task with vigour.

‘It's all right, Daisy, I was only trying to help, and you can rest assured I have no intention of taking your job. Besides, I'm only here for a few days.'

Immediately the maid relaxed and Rowan chided herself for her insensitivity. If the girl had only just come from the orphanage it was understandable she was feeling insecure about her position.

Going over to the washstand, she saw fresh water had been drawn for her. She busied herself with her ablutions and by the time she'd finished Daisy had disappeared. Carefully pulling the crisp cotton dress over her shoulders, she shook out the folds of material, marvelling at the little white sprigs of flowers embroidered on the skirt. As she'd feared, it was much too long, the sleeves covering her fingertips, the hem trailing on the rug beneath her. She rolled up the sleeves as neatly as she could, then snatched the tie from the night wrap and wound it around her waist, pulling up the skirt until she could see her feet.

Following the delicious aroma of cooked bacon, she made her way to the breakfast room, where Mrs Acland sat sipping tea from a delicate china cup.

‘Good morning, Rowan,' she said, replacing it in her saucer and smiling graciously. ‘I trust you slept well?'

‘Yes, thank you, Mrs Acland, that was the best night's
sleep I've had in ages,' Rowan answered with feeling. ‘Thank you for loaning me this dress.'

Mrs Acland looked her up and down, then shook her head. ‘I can see it's much too long. I hadn't realized how petite you are, Rowan. We shall have to do something about it after you have eaten.' Then she looked down at Rowan's bare feet and frowned. ‘I did ask Daisy to lay out stockings and slippers for you. The silly girl must have forgotten. I'll have words with her when we have finished our meal.'

‘Oh, no, please, Mrs Acland. It wasn't Daisy's fault. I prefer to go barefoot,' Rowan replied truthfully.

‘That's as may be, but did she put stockings and slippers out?' Mrs Acland persisted.

‘I expect I was in a hurry and didn't notice them,' Rowan answered, not wishing to get the little maid into trouble.

‘Hmm.' Mrs Acland gave her a knowing look. ‘Well, do help yourself from the salvers on the sideboard. Cook likes to indulge Alexander when he visits, so we are spoiled for choice this morning.'

Rowan duly lifted the lids, her stomach grumbling in appreciation at the array of coddled eggs, bacon, kidneys, black pudding, fried bread, tomatoes and mushrooms. After helping herself to some of everything, she took her place at the table and tucked in. It was only when Mrs Acland was pouring tea into her cup that she looked up and saw the woman was grinning. Glancing over at her plate, Rowan saw it was more modestly set with an egg and a single mushroom.

‘Oh,' she gasped. ‘I'm sorry, Mrs Acland, I'm afraid I've
been rather greedy. You must tell me what chores I can do to repay your kind hospitality.'

‘Don't worry, my dear. You need building up after your ordeal. Enjoy your breakfast and then we can discuss what's to be done,' she said, turning her attention back to her food.

Rowan did as she'd been bid, but although the food was delicious, she couldn't help wondering what Mrs Acland had in store for her. Was she going to be asked to become a scullery maid? At least she'd have somewhere to stay, she thought.

‘Right, if you're sure you've finished … ?' Mrs Acland asked, as Rowan sat back in her chair, feeling replete.

‘That was the most scrumptious breakfast I've ever had in my life,' Rowan said, patting her stomach.

Mrs Acland smiled tolerantly. ‘Well, I'm sure Cook will be pleased to hear that. Now, I think the first thing we need to do is send for my dressmaker and get her to make adjustments to that dress. We can't have you going out looking like you've donned something from the rag bag.'

‘Oh, no, Mrs Acland, there's no need for that. I am quite capable of making the alterations myself, if you don't mind some of this lovely material being chopped off?' asked Rowan.

‘Well, if you are sure, Rowan. I know Mrs Pinker is busy making a bridal dress for her daughter at the moment. Now, I have things to attend to this morning, so perhaps you would like to sew upstairs in the privacy of your room. I will get Daisy to light the fire so that you don't catch a chill.'

Rowan was just about to say that she could see to it
herself when she remembered the fear in the young girl's eyes when she'd thought Rowan was after her job.

‘That would be most kind, Mrs Acland,' she answered.

‘I will send Daisy up with my sewing box, and then she can also lay out those stockings and slippers for you,' Mrs Acland said, her eyes twinkling so that Rowan was reminded of the superintendent. ‘Oh, and Rowan,' the woman added as she stood up to leave, ‘I think it would be better if we don't mention your stay at the asylum to anyone. Regrettably that place carries a stigma, and if we are to find you a suitable position, that would be sure to count against you.'

‘I see,' Rowan replied, nodding her head. ‘Yes, I understand. Thank you so much for allowing me to stay here, Mrs Acland. When I've finished sewing, you must let me know what I can do to earn my keep.'

‘Rowan, you are more than welcome here, but you are staying as our guest. It's the least we can do after the terrible time you've experienced, and besides, I do enjoy young company,' said Mrs Acland, giving her a gentle smile.

Up in the Lilac Room, Rowan took off the yellow dress and donned the silk night wrap. No sooner had she settled herself at the table in the bay window than there was a knock on the door and Daisy reappeared.

‘Here yous are, miss,' she said, placing an ornate sewing box before her. ‘Sorry I forgot yous stockings and slippers. Ma'am said I need to pay more attention to detail,' she said, laying the hose on the bed and taking a pair of golden slippers from the walnut wardrobe. Then, kneeling before the fire, she set to work with the bellows. As flames blazed, she carefully placed the guard in front of
the fireplace and got to her feet, but instead of leaving the room she stood staring at Rowan.

‘Is something wrong, Daisy?' Rowan asked, putting down the needle she'd just threaded.

‘Pardon me for asking, miss, but I was wondering why yous always wear a red ribbon around your wrist. I saw yous had it on with your night things and wondered if it was important to you, like.'

‘It's the most treasured thing I have, Daisy. My mother always wore it and she gave it to me just before she died. It represents the circle of life, you see.'

The little maid frowned. ‘Circle of life, miss?'

‘Continuity, Daisy. Although people die, their spirit lives on and is passed down through the family in actions and deeds. My mother passed on her rituals and goodness, and I hope I will pass these on to my daughter, if I'm blessed. There's not a day that passes that I don't look at this ribbon and remember my mother,' she said, rubbing the red band.

‘Well, that can't happen to me, can it? Me being an orphan, an' all.' Daisy looked so forlorn, Rowan wanted to put her arms around her. Knowing the gesture was likely to be met with suspicion, however, she cast around for something to reassure her.

‘But you can start your own, Daisy. Take your name, for example. Did you know Daisy means a miniature symbol of the sun?'

‘Really, miss?' the little maid said, her eyes sparkling in delight. ‘They said at the orphanage I was found with a daisy in me hand, so that's what they called me. I ain't got no circle of life, though, 'cos I got no mother, have I?'

‘You
could be the beginning of one, though, Daisy. Why, you could make a chain from the flowers on the lawn. Create your own circle,' Rowan suggested.

‘Blimey, I'd better be quick then. Old Coggins mows the lawns on Tuesdays,' the little maid said, hurrying from the room.

Settling herself back in her seat, Rowan picked up the needle and pulled the dress towards her. If only her problems could be sorted out so easily, she thought. It was very kind of Mrs Acland to say she could stay here, but she needed to find some kind of position to support herself. But what? Her talents were limited. Although she could read and write, her education had been basic. She knew about life on a farm, so maybe she could do some domestic work or even help in the kitchen of a big house. Thinking about farm life reminded her of her father and Sab. Did they wonder where she was or had their lives already moved on? No doubt Fanny would have come up with some plausible explanation about her disappearance. And as for Sab, he'd been so distant latterly.