Without a Mother's Love (16 page)

 

In the morning Harriet’s desolation and anger had festered. Her mind was made up. She would demand an interview with the master. Despite her anguish at leaving Olivia, she had to go. Perhaps they could write to each other. She would find a way.When she went down to the kitchen to fetch their breakfast porridge, Mrs Cookson was frying black pudding and liver on an iron plate over the fire.

‘I should like to speak with the master this morning.’

‘You talk to him when he says, not the other way round.’

‘This is important.’

‘Something’s gone on, then?’ Mrs Cookson looked at her keenly, and nodded. ‘Aye. I thought as much yesterday.’

Harriet became impatient. Surely Mrs Cookson could not know. ‘I’ll take the master’s breakfast in for you,’ she said.

‘It’s not fer him. It’s fer Matt and his lads in the stables. The master’s been gone a while now.’

‘Gone? Gone where?’

‘It’s none of your business.’

‘When will he return?’

Mrs Cookson turned from her task and gave her a withering look. After a pause, she said, ‘You’re a bit peaky this morning, aren’t you, lass? Do you want a piece o’ this liver?’

She shook her head irritably. ‘I’ll have porridge with Miss Olivia in the schoolroom. Will the master be back for dinner?’ All she wanted was a testimonial and money to make her escape.

‘Miss Trent, Blackstone may have taught you a lot about book learning, but not, it seems, that gentlemen will have their way.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

The older woman shrugged. ‘Go and get on with your teaching, then.’

She wished she could. She had such affection for Olivia. She was here because of her and it was going to be so hard to leave. As the day wore on she wondered if, and how, she could take Olivia with her.

The master came home while they were having tea in the kitchen. Harriet offered to help Mrs Cookson with his supper instead of going up to the schoolroom to read.

‘Still want to see him, do you?’

‘It is important, Mrs Cookson.’

‘You’ve been like an unbroken filly champing at the bit all day so you’d better go and say your piece to ’im.’

Harriet carried into the dining room the last of the apples from the store. ‘I must speak with you, sir.’

‘What is it?’

‘I wish to give you notice that I shall be leaving.’

‘Leaving? You shall do no such thing!’

‘I cannot stay after last night.’

He stared at her. ‘That? Don’t be so damnably self-righteous! Why don’t you admit you enjoyed it as much as I did?’

‘Because I did not, sir.’

‘Be honest with yourself, woman!’

She tried to remain calm. ‘I should like to leave as soon as possible.’

He frowned. ‘You are not free to go.You are in my employ and you are not yet one-and-twenty.’

‘You cannot mean to force me to stay?’

‘I do not have to. I am your master. I give you good food and lodging, provide you with gowns and new boots.You owe me your labour as I see fit.’

‘Not as your mistress, sir. I do not owe you that.’

He laughed at her.
He laughed
. ‘You are staying and that is an end to the matter.’

‘But I cannot! I shall not!’

‘And where do you think you will go?’

‘I shall find another position.’

‘Without a testimonial? I think not.’

‘You will be good enough to furnish me with one, surely.’

‘Recommend you to others? And why should I do that when I want you here?’ He sounded genuinely surprised.

‘I do not wish to stay. I should rather return to Blackstone.’ But at that her heart shrivelled.

He snorted. ‘So shall I write and say what good service you have given? The principal will be very interested in what occurred last night, I’m sure.’

Agitated, she took him at his word. ‘But you cannot - you must not. I shall be ruined.’ No, that was not quite accurate, she thought. She was already ruined.

‘You will not get another position in the Riding, Miss Trent. I shall see to that.’

‘Sir, please do not be so cruel! You can find another mistress, one who is willing and more suited to your tastes.’

‘Oh, but you suit my taste very well, Miss Trent. Your pious resistance makes the challenge, and the victory, so much sweeter.’

‘You are despicable. You have no consideration for your great-niece either. I cannot set such a low moral example to her. What if she should discover it?’

His patience snapped. ‘You will see that she does not. Why not be sensible, Miss Trent, and come to my chamber as I ask?’

‘
No!
I shall not do it.’ But inside she was failing. She could not stay here. Neither could she leave Olivia. She imagined herself running away in the middle of the night and taking Olivia with her, away from the evil influences in this house. But how would they survive without money? She had none. Olivia had none. They would starve out on the road in the cold. She could not let that happen.

‘Then I shall come to you,’ he said slowly and deliberately. ‘And you will be silent.’

‘You are a wicked man.’

‘If you think that, why have you stayed?’

‘You know that I cannot leave until after I am one-and-twenty. I have no money.’

‘Ah, now, there we have something in common. I have no money either.’

‘Then who pays for all of this?’ she indicated their comfortable surroundings.

‘I am talking about coins and banknotes.’

She was becoming scornful of his excuses. ‘How do you pay your servants?’

‘I don’t. Not this year, anyway. There will be no payment for anyone in this household.’

‘You cannot mean that. We shall have earned our wages.’

‘So will my miners, and there is no money for them either.’

Harriet reflected on this for a minute. With the ruck at the pit and Adam Harvey’s comments before Christmas, it was probably true. ‘Are you saying I shall have nothing at midsummer?’

‘None then, maybe none after that.The bank has failed, Miss Trent, and I have lost a fortune. The men’s wages have been halved. Do you think I shall pay my governess when I have men with families to feed, baying at my door? The farm will keep us with meat on the table, and my colliers will continue to mine my coal for half a loaf to give to their children. You are a sensible woman, Miss Trent. You would be well advised to stay here rather than end up starving as a street woman in the town.’

She saw the sense in his words and hated him for being right.Yet, she thought, she might as well be on the streets after what he had done to her. She walked out of the dining room without another word.

Olivia was engrossed in a book, and while she was occupied, Harriet searched for a key to the schoolroom. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it before. If she locked the door at night, she would be safe. After an hour of surreptitious searching, she asked her charge where it might be.‘Uncle Hesley has it. He used to lock me in when I cried at night.’

Harriet swallowed. ‘Do you know where he keeps it?’

Olivia shook her head and went back to her book.

That night, Harriet hardly seemed to close her eyes at all. She kept on her drawers and corset and suffered a night of discomfort.Yet she would not have slept a wink without them for every creak and rattle had her sitting bolt upright and half out of bed.

The master did not appear. Perhaps he had listened to her protests and thought better of his actions. But the night after that she was in despair when she discovered she was wrong.

 

The winds across the moor were wild that year and Olivia woke with a start. The salt and the wet on her face were not from the sea of her nightmares but her own tears. She wanted her mama, but dared not call out for Uncle Hesley was at home. If her crying woke the household and Uncle Hesley was disturbed he would beat her and tell her that it was seven years now and she must stop these night-time disturbances. Then she remembered that Miss Trent was next door and she lay still in the dark and listened. She could hear the ship’s timbers creaking, the groaning and crying . . .

But this was not the ship, it was her bedchamber, next to Miss Trent’s and the schoolroom. Miss Trent would never beat her. Not even when Uncle Hesley insisted. The wind spattered rain on her window. She licked at her tears and wiped her face on the sleeve of her nightgown. She knew it had been the bad dream again and that she had woken from it, but she still heard the creaks and the groans. The noises were coming from Miss Trent’s chamber. She lay awake in the dark, frightened and alone, and eventually the sounds stopped.Then there was silence. Until the crying began, a muffled, choked sobbing that made Olivia forget her own sadness.

She slid out of bed, walked barefoot to the door and opened it a fraction. A candle burned low on Miss Trent’s washstand. It was not one from the schoolroom. It was in a tall brass candlestick from downstairs.

‘Go back to bed, Olivia.’ Miss Trent seemed to be choking.

‘Don’t make me. Please don’t make me. I’ve had a nasty dream.’

‘Your nightmare again?’ Miss Trent struggled to sit up, pulling down her nightgown under the tumbled bedding. It looked to Olivia as if she’d been crying too, but she held out her hand, smiling in the flickering light.

‘Don’t cry, Miss Trent.’

Miss Trent wiped her face with the sheet.

‘It won’t be so bad in the morning.’ She took her governess’s hand. ‘That’s what you say to me.’

‘Dear sweet child, you mean more to me than anything.’

‘Can I climb in beside you?’

Miss Trent nodded and held up the sheet. The sheets were very wrinkled and - she sniffed - they had that ‘Uncle Hesley smell’. Had Uncle Hesley been here? Uncle Hesley only came to the schoolroom to punish her when she was wicked.

Olivia wrinkled her nose. ‘Uncle Hesley’s been here, hasn’t he? Is that why you’re crying? Did he beat you and make you cry?’

‘No, of course not,’ she whispered.‘What an imagination you have.’

‘He did. He was here, I can smell him.’

‘Hush, child. It was all in your dream.’

‘It wasn’t! He’s made you cry and you’ll go away! Oh, please don’t go away and leave me.’

‘Quiet now, Olivia,’ she soothed. ‘You’ve had one of your nightmares, that’s all. It isn’t real.’

‘Oh, it is! It happened when I was seven. I was on a ship with Mama and she drowned. Papa too.’

‘I know, my dear. We have something in common, then, for I am an orphan.’

‘Uncle Hesley says I’m lucky to have a guardian and I must behave or he will send me away and I would have to live in a place worse than Blackstone. Blackstone isn’t very nice, is it? It’s always cold and they eat only porridge and broth, and bread and dripping.’

‘I won’t let him send you away. I promise.’

Olivia snuggled into Miss Trent’s warm soft body and tried to ignore Uncle Hesley’s smell. ‘I’m lucky to have you, Miss Trent,’ she whispered finally.

She was almost asleep when she heard her governess’s soft voice above her head. ‘No. I am the lucky one. I have found you. You are worth any amount of humiliation and hardship and I shall not leave you. The Lord will give me the strength to stay.’

As Olivia drifted off to sleep, Miss Trent was praying. She could hear soft murmurings about forgiving her sins. She must have behaved badly and her uncle must have beaten her, for she winced and gasped when she changed her position in bed.

 

Olivia thought that Uncle Hesley’s smell never really went away from Miss Trent’s chamber. Now it was not her nightmare that woke her. It was Uncle Hesley knocking over a chair in the schoolroom, or Miss Trent’s anguished pleading for him to leave. But he did not heed her. Neither did he beat Miss Trent in the same way he did Olivia. Miss Trent’s punishment was different. When she was woken by the noise, Olivia crept out of her bed and opened the door a fraction to watch.

Uncle Hesley did not use his cane on Miss Trent. He beat her with his body. The bedding was thrown back and he was stretched out on top of her in just his shirt. His legs were bare, long, white and hairy, and he made noises like a pig as he punished her, making the bed creak as the ship’s timbers did in her nightmare.

In the light of the candle by her head, Miss Trent’s frightened face peered out over Uncle Hesley’s shoulder and tears spilled down her cheeks. When he had finished, he climbed off her, picked up his boots and breeches and lumbered away through the schoolroom. Olivia knew it was punishment because Miss Trent always cried afterwards.

When Miss Trent saw her she became angry.‘Close the door, Olivia. Don’t you know it’s wicked to spy on others?’

‘I wasn’t spying!’

‘Well, you must not talk of this to anyone. No one. Not even Mrs Cookson. Promise me.’

‘I promise.’ Olivia meant it. She did not want others to know that Miss Trent had had to be punished. Miss Trent was her friend, and Olivia could keep a secret when she had to.

Chapter 11

‘Before my grandson leaves for the West Indies he will marry. Is that not a good idea, Miss Trent? For a young gentleman like Hesley to have a wife?’

‘Yes, sir.’They had been summoned to the library.The master and his grandson were there, scowling at each other.

‘Olivia?’ he prompted.

‘Yes, Uncle Hesley.’

‘Good. Then we are agreed.’ He raised his voice slightly. ‘Are we agreed, Hesley?’

‘Yes, Grandfather.’

‘You must sail soon after the wedding, while the weather is fair. I would not wish you to suffer the same fate that befell Olivia’s mother and father. It follows, therefore, that the marriage will take place quickly. Within the month.’

‘Yes, sir,’ young Hesley muttered.

‘You will see to all that is required, Miss Trent.’

‘See to what, sir?’ Uncle Hesley looked irritated with her and Olivia clutched her hand tighter. ‘Is Olivia to be a bridal attendant?’ Miss Trent added.