The Companion of Lady Holmeshire Read online

  They stopped at the shop, spent a bit of time looking through the carefully cleaned and folded apparel, and all three came out clothed quite decently. They had extra in a bundle, as well as nappies for the baby. Wills had chanced upon a lovely, fine dress for Abby that he carried out over his arm, and he suggested that they tear up their old apparel for rags. There would be no need to dress so poorly, he told them, with the income they would soon be earning.

  The horses next took them to Belgrave Square, and Wills sent a footman inside to learn from his mother whether rooms had been found. Soon they were following Winnie, Emma and Nicky down the road in a separate carriage.

  “How nice,” Wills said, as the group stopped in front of a modern edifice, “that they have the new gas lamps on the street. It will improve the safety of the area.” He exclaimed that he was also pleased with the quaintly trimmed building, which was well maintained and attractive.

  Winnie had found the little family a pleasant suite of rooms in which they would be most comfortable. It was already furnished pleasantly. To the suffering mother and son, it was the most wonderful, welcoming place on earth! How could so much good have come to them in these few days?

  Winnie and Emma enjoyed becoming acquainted with them and helped them with settling their few items in. They set out some candles they had brought, and a snuffer, and found a teapot to prepare hot tea for the new mother. They had also brought some crusty bread and a pot full of good soup from the Duke’s kitchen. Wills eagerly assisted them in emptying the pot.

  Nicholas was happy to be helping “a cute baby,” and wished it to be his very own brother. Everyone enjoyed little Nick’s determination and laughed heartily as the baby made funny little shapes with his mouth. Wills told Abby to rest for her confinement, and Winnie said that they would provide some help until she was strong. And Henry was to go to work at Chenbury very soon.

  ***

  Wills sat down at his desk and read several letters from the Lords of Parliament, some of which were discouraging indeed. He intended to write a letter to Genevieve, but before he could, he found another from her that had arrived on his desk.

  “I have such plans,” she wrote, “and can hardly think of anything else! First, I would like to use Chenbury’s large banquet room for an auction hall, where we can sell off donated items, such as my tiresome trinkets. The banquet table can remain in place, as there is adequate room without moving it; we could, therefore, hold honorary dinners at any time. The dance room would make a wonderful theater with a bit of redoing. Perhaps we could take out a wall to make it larger, and we could put on Shakespearean productions, which would entertain many and produce funds for our project! What fun that would be.

  I am sorry not to have waited for a reply before carrying my thoughts so firmly in this direction. I simply desire this too much to allow you to say no! It is what I care to do regardless of anything else, and I suppose I am a bit of an independent lady. I received a note from your aunt saying that you would search for our poor mother and child, and I hope that you will be able to locate them very soon. I do so hope the baby has survived. Fondly, Genevieve.”

  Wills had just spent the most joyful day of his life, for giving does, indeed, bring the greatest happiness. Genny’s note conformed quite nicely to the pleasant direction of things. If only Gabriel Hughes were not so frequently assailing his sanity! He penned a reply to Genny’s two notes.

  “Dearest Genevieve, First let me comfort you in that I have located Mrs. Abby Smith and her two sons, Henry and little Wills. Henry will be a most willing worker. Wills is healthy and it appears that he will do quite well, thanks to your kind assistance to his mother. You have clearly saved his life! And now your further generosity will make it a happy one, I am certain. Thanks to your request that I locate her, and thanks to the efforts of my mother, the family is warm and delighted in a suite of rooms within walking distance of Chenbury House.

  I am planning to cut back my time at Parliament to do more for the poor. Since I have come under your father’s disapproval, my support at Westminster seems to have pulled back. I do not have the influence I once did, and there is great support, again, for the workhouse arrangement. My ideas for the poor are simply not a subject that the Lords are willing to discuss any longer at this time.

  If I am to accomplish anything much, it must be with my own money and whatever you and other generous souls wish to do. Your funding ideas are brilliant! The use of Chenbury for this project is an enormous help; it will enable us to begin building shelters all the sooner. I hope to have many beds prepared before autumn rains fall. I could appeal to my Uncle for support in Parliament, but I feel that there will be greater peace and happiness from this should we simply turn to the good will of many of our friends. I also feel that we should be able to simply move ahead and not have to spend time and energy on a battle over it. This will mean housing, clothing and food for those in need quite soon. Once the benefits of our efforts are shown, perhaps the Lords will give our approach more consideration.

  As for the matter of our marriage, I prefer to talk together about that when we next see each other. Please inform me of when we can meet at Chenbury and begin working on our project. My Aunt Helena, my Mama, Emma and Nicholas all wish to join us in this happy project, and they will be of tremendous assistance. Sincerely yours, Wilfred, Lord Holmeshire”

  His letter made it to her hands the same evening, and they both were sleepless with excitement.

  ***

  Come the following Wednesday, Mrs. Amberton sauntered past the new brick telegraph office in Holmeshire village. “It is preposterous what they say they can do!” she thought, frowning as she hurried past the Devil’s very window, furtively glancing in. A voice from inside called out to her excitedly, and she nearly broke into a run in the opposite direction! Someone came outside behind her, calling out her name with a familiar voice. Puzzled, she turned around. It was young Mr. Wells, who had returned from training in London not long since. He was standing beneath the handsome new swinging wooden sign hanging over the doorway, motioning her into the building with astonishment on his face, determinedly gesturing.

  “Mrs. Amberton! Our very first telegram has come through, just a moment ago, you see, and it is for you!” They seemed to have no interest in the message itself, but were very excited that the machine had actually worked! The office was full of noisy rejoicing, and a bottle of champagne was loudly uncorked. As she stepped inside, they were shouting, “How quickly it came from London!” “Have a bit of the bubbly, Mrs. Amberton!” She heard none of this for all her disbelief of the first comment. She disputed, with most somber piety, that she or anyone could ever receive a telegram.

  “Where is the message, then?” she huffed. A young man shoved a glass of champagne into her hand, and she feigned indignation, evil never having passed her lips, but being the center of attention and celebration, she was forced to drink it down. He then handed her the paper. She looked at it, and an even greater look of disbelief came over her face. “I am to make two hundred woolen cloaks for The Lord Holmeshire and have them all done by October?” she cried in disbelief. “I would have to hire help to do that!” She gave the machine a dirty look, as it had concocted this message quite obviously under the influence of the Devil himself, who was out to ruin her. Then the machine started its clacking noise and another message came to be. Mr. Wells rushed over and picked it up.

  “It is for Joseph Darby at the Woolhouse! He is to send fabric to Mrs. Amberton and put it to His Lordship’s account.” Everyone looked around in awe of the messages, excepting Mrs. Amberton. She clapped her empty glass down on the tabletop, threw down her message and went out the door, thoroughly annoyed at the gullibility of the young and worried for their souls.

  It was not until Darby arrived at her crowded little house, with four large crates of fabric, that it began to occur to her that perhaps this affair was something she should take into consideration. Could it be true, or had he also been fooled by
the possessed machine? Then along came Samuel Silverton with a good quantity of thread and a story that he had delivered materials elsewhere for two hundred men’s and boy’s warm winter hats in varying sizes! The six year old came from the candle shop with some candles, and she began to, if not believe, at least earnestly wish to.

  “Beeswax!” she shouted to her startled children, “Perhaps this is from His Lordship, as I’ve never had a beeswax candle in my life!” The bees near Holmeshire were to be employed, too, it seemed. Although the Amberton family’s small, thatched cottage was now quite crowded, she pushed the necessities of life against the cracked plaster wall to make room for her abundance of new materials. Unquestionably, all these things had fallen from heaven! She affirmed that some way or another, with the help of her younger daughters and some friends, she was going to make those cloaks.

  The next day, any shred of doubt was finally dismissed when a horseman appeared at her door with a small bag of coins. It was payment in advance, he said, for a month’s work. All this good news was too much to bear, and Mrs. Amberton ran out to buy a bottle of champagne at the back door of the pub. The Chenbury charity fund was going to benefit the struggling economy of little Holmeshire quite nicely!

  ***

  Back in London, Anne, Mrs. Amberton’s second daughter, had been blissfully happy. One day, however, when she was about to exit the house and meet her escort for their daily rain-or-shine walk, she found that her shawl, which had been hanging on a hook near the servant’s door, had been cut into strips with a scissor. Anne burst into tears upon finding it so, feeling threatened and despised.

  Simon came inside, puzzled at her not appearing outside the door, and found her weakened and collapsed in a chair. She had not wanted him to see her in this state, but felt great relief at his immediate knightly reaction against the unknown villain, as he took the matter directly to the housekeeper. She, wanting to retain her position, called everyone in and lined them up for severe interrogation. Nobody claimed to know who had done it, though a few had faces that they seemed to hide facts behind. The housekeeper was, however, satisfied with her accomplishment.

  With that handled unsuccessfully, Simon returned to the damsel in distress and ascertained that she could not be looked upon with a reddened nose. His promise to look at only the scenery for a full ten minutes convinced her to rise to her feet again for a walk outside. At Simon’s request, a kitchen maid loaned her an adequate shawl for their stroll.

  Anne’s recent happiness was gravely dampened by the occurrence, and she became afraid, though of whom she did not know. Simon saw her fear and began to realize the great responsibility that he must take on, should he become lord of his own house and the protector and provider of a wife and children. Would it ever be possible?

  The couple stopped walking, ten minutes having slipped away, under a budding willow. Their boot tips nearly met on an unusual brick walk that rounded up on one side into a half wall, covered with vines and backed by bushes that were attempting to put forth white flowers. All of that beauty, the songs of a skylark and the buzzing of a number of hopeful bees went unnoticed.

  Simon’s poverty disturbed his mind, indeed, his very life, in his view. “Tomorrow, Miss Amberton, we shall buy you a new shawl, but I must apologize; this will mean that I can purchase none of the confections that we have been enjoying so much, nor a cup of tea out for a week or two afterward. I would like to become your provider, your protector, your dearest loved one forever, yet I fear that I could not succeed. The only benefit I could offer you, should we marry, is my deepest love and companionship on my Sundays off. I could not often see you. I could provide you with only the smallest home here, and with little to furnish it, you see, as did my uncle for my poor aunt. Should we have children, I fear that you and they would suffer hunger and want! I work very long hours, and my work is here in London. Your parents and all of your family are in the north, you know, and I fear that you could not be without them. In a few weeks, you will be taken back to Holmeshire, and I will be left here alone. As an aspiring gentleman, I cannot ask you to stay and give up your secure position, and I am sure that I could not find sufficient work in your little village with this depressed state of the economy.”

  Was this to be known forever as the worst day of Anne’s life? “And yet,” he continued, “I am completely given over to you, and I cannot face a life without you without doing my best to change my situation. If you please, I propose that you give me a bit more of your sweet time. For who knows if, in the next months or year, with effort, my circumstances might change and I could offer you a more satisfactory home? I have taken great pains to educate myself and I am capable of a highly responsible position. I have been searching for one as I go about the Duke’s business in Town. One cannot apply for a position, however, when dressed as the Duke’s representative, and there is never the opportunity for it on Sundays, especially as I intend to spend every minute of them with you. With you as my undeserved and perfect reward, I am very much inspired to find a way. However, should I find no solution, no satisfactory position within a year’s time, I will free you to consider another husband with a better income and good circumstances, should you wish to leave service and marry. I would find my joy in giving you over to a better life.”

  Anne took his arm to walk farther along the bricks, and she expressed her concerns. “Although we have had the favor of the Master, and he has offered us the freedom to marry, it seems that it, in truth, does not work nicely for servants. A servant’s income is meant for someone who lives in the Master’s house! Could we not search for another way? Surely there is a suitable position somewhere for you. I am willing to wait far more than a year, should it mean that we can be together thereafter. I would never consider another husband as long as you are alive. As for leaving you behind in London in a short time, I do not know how I could do that! It would be like leaving life itself behind! I will seek to stay in service here, perhaps for the Duke, and will see you as best I can.”

  ***

  Helena, Winnie and Emma were sitting together, each with a lap desk, writing a letter to a friend when the butler brought up two messages on a silver tray. Helena picked up an exquisite envelope that was stamped with the Queen’s Seal.

  “Oh my,” Helena exclaimed, “I have a message from Her Majesty!” She opened it and read silently with a puzzled expression developing. She looked up and thought for a second, and then a look of understanding began to cross her face.

  “Oh, yes! Winifred! The Queen has received a letter, she says, and has had a request that she does not understand. She spoke to her ladies about it, and one of the ladies suggested that we be called to the Palace. She has asked for you and me and His Grace to visit this Friday. Would you be able to accept?” She gave Winnie a look and nod that meant, “You do wish to be there.”

  Winnie nodded in agreement, “Oh yes, I would very much like to go! I will cancel any other engagement.”

  “I’m afraid that this is one visit on which we will not be able to insist that we bring you, Emma. How I wish we could!”

  “I understand perfectly, Your Grace, for there are only so many toes upon which I can step.”

  ***

  Abby was tearfully happy and fully enjoyed the early days with her son. Her new little home was so very pleasant! The most modern steam-power printed wallpapers had won the house hunters over, and someone had skillfully chosen a plum divan and golden beige chairs to match. Abby dreamed of the day she could buy a pretty vase to hold some flowers and linens for the little round tea table. Winnie had assured her that, should she choose to stay there, the cost would be within her means on the salary she would receive from Chenbury.

  Her son would be able to make enough, too, so that they could all eat and dress, and he would be able to save some for the future. And would he like to improve his education, making him more valuable to his employer? There were tutors living on the very street! Having observed him at his efforts and deeming him worthy, Wi
lls would pay to have him trained in the ways of business.

  ***

  Thursday had, at last, arrived, the day that the entire charity team was to meet together. Though Abby was to stay home to care for and cuddle her little one, Henry was ready to go out the door well ahead of time. He was able, he told her, to run and bring in some muffins from a bakery down the street, and would she like fresh milk to drink? He pulled a footstool near her rocking chair, so that she would not strain herself, and went in search of milk. Could life be any better, she wondered? Only if big Henry could be with them to live it.

  At the appointed time, Genevieve, Wills, Winnie, Helena, Emma and Henry met in the front drive of the magnificent, if smaller than Handerton, house. Little Nicholas was allowed to run in circles around a splendorous labradorite fountain. The gardeners had kept the greenery in perfect condition, and the indoor staff, though reduced with no one in residence, had kept the house clean.

  Today Chenbury was awakened and was opening its arms to the project at hand. At the stroke of 10, the chosen hour, the butler opened the wood-framed, beveled glass doors, and the small band entered the entry hall, rounded by faux walls. Champagne was opened and enjoyed by all but the excited little Nicholas, who had a pretty etched goblet of apple cider.

  Genevieve took them on a tour of the grand house and pointed out her thoughts for some of the rooms; all were to be adapted for executive and fundraising purposes, except for a suite on the second floor that would, should it become necessary, become her home, and the downstairs servants’ realm. Maintenance for the rest of the building would be in the hands of the charity, which would provide work for the poor. She then turned the chairmanship over to His Lordship.