A musing

Sydney Walk
May 25th 1853


At last, I have set eyes on Boo's new baby. She looks exactly like a walnut to me, but Boo assures me she is beautiful and so she must be. As soon as I saw her I was brought to tears, wondering if I shall ever have such a bundle of my own. As I gazed down at her on Boo's lap I thought of Josiah and yearned for a tiny, living image of him to dandle and fuddle with.

I wonder if my fever has not entirely left me.

Villiers seems to be concerned for my well-being. Every time I turn around I find him watching me as one might regard a tottering child near a pond. I have not spoken to him about the Girl or the child, though I am sure he expects me to at any moment. I am saddened by my discovery of his cruelty, but he is far too good a butler for me to lose him over a servant girl. I had not thought him capable of such brutish sentiment, not when he is so meticulous in domestic matters. I wish my eyes had not been opened to his maleness.

Still, I must not let such petty disappointments spoil my plans. I want to take more of a role in the Press now that Boo has a use for both her hands, so I shall call upon Mrs Doughty before the week is over. And I must dine with Papa, for I have been woefully inattentive of him since the fire. If I am not to have a child, or a butler with more than half a heart, I can still be a dutiful wife and daughter. Those qualities are as yet still within my power.

Plea

Sydney Walk
May 20th 1853

Darling Boo

I have been most dreadfully ill. After your card arrived with the joyous news of your safe delivery I had intended to visit you and your baby at the earliest possible moment, but that very afternoon I was struck with a terrible fever and have only just left my bed to come and write to you. Please forgive me, I know you will!

How is your beautiful baby girl, Angelina? Is she just like you, I am sure she is and cannot wait a moment longer to see her. I will ensure that I am fully recovered, though, before I come to gaze at her.

Josiah has been very attentive during my illness. He is a sweet lamb and I am very lucky. He came to my room on the first morning and told me he would oversee the running of the house until I was able to resume my position, the darling. I did not see Villiers or the maid once throughout my recovery, because Josiah undertook to give them all their instructions. I told Josiah that I did not wish him to contract the same fever so he did as I requested and left me alone. I have had several days of peace in which to get myself well again - there are many wives who would not have been given such luxury, I know.

I have knitted some mittens for your baby, Boo, just as I did for her brother, who must seem like a proper man to you now. Please tell me when I can come to visit - I cannot bear to think of her snuggling and cooing without her Aunt Effie to kiss her. I read your card but was unsure whether the arrangements included your closest friend,

E x

Overlooked

Sydney Walk
May 13th 1853

Boo sent us the birth announcement card this morning. It read,

Mr and Mrs Bradstone Pitt of Chelsea, London are proud to announce the safe and welcome arrival of their newest baby daughter. She is to be called Angelina Vivienne and will become the perfect younger sister to her brother Bradstone.

Together with some tedious information about when well-wishers can go to visit them, the details of which I cannot recall just at this moment.

I am most hurt and can only believe that Boo was in some form of post-puerperal stupor which rendered her incapable of choosing the names herself. Mr Pitt must have undertaken the task.

Why else would the baby be named Angelina - not Euphemia?

Epiphany

Sydney Walk
May 11th 1853

May the Lord preserve me from such troublesome times!

Yesterday, I witnessed a scene of such distress and violence that I hardly think those involved were human. I saw Villiers leave from the servants' outside door and go striding down the street as though he were being chased by bears - I followed, but could hardly keep up with his route, since I had left the house in a degree of haste and had not had time to have my boots laced. I was wearing my house shoes, which could never be described as robust even by the man who made them.

I hobbled along in Villiers' wake, not caring to notice where we were going, until we arrived at a corner I recognised. My heart turned as I saw that we were in the vicinity of Brunswick Square, our winter residence last year, and at the very spot where I had seen the Girl and her child from my window!

I rested a while, easing my poor feet, while Villiers marched out of sight. I wanted nothing more than to go home and spend a quiet morning with Dauncey but I felt compelled to see what it was that Josiah had told him to do - what task had so angered him - so after a few minutes I continued my steps.

As I reached the turn I had seen him take, I beheld a sight I could never have conjured up in the most frenzied ravings of the hottest fever. Villiers was standing at the top of a flight of steps, with his arms akimbo across the front door of a drab-looking but respectable house. At the foot of those steps was a heap of rags and baggage - and the prone figure of the Girl.

I walked a little further towards this scene, but was too afraid to make my presence known. I had not the faintest notion of what was happening, save for the obvious. Villiers was preventing the Girl from entering the house. But why?

"Mr Villiers, I am begging you - please do not do this to us. What am I to do - where will we go?" She was crying, and scraping the ground to collect her belongings together. "All I asked for was what is due to Jojo and me. Please, Mr Villiers, you know my situation - surely you can take pity on me and the boy?" I could now make out that part of what I had thought was just rags was actually a small child. The child was silent, staring intently at the Girl but otherwise showing nothing of what he felt.

Villiers began to lock the door and descend the steps. He had not spoken at all whilst I had been watching but now, quietly, he addressed the Girl.

"I have no choice, none at all," he said "You must make your way to the gentleman you are to marry and trust that he will give you shelter. I shall call for a carriage to take you to wherever he is - that is more than I need to do, but I am sorry for you." He put the house keys into his pocket and glanced around for someone he could send to find transport. That is when he saw me.

As our eyes met I could hide my presence no longer so I approached - as I did so, the Girl followed Villiers' gaze and as she saw me she screamed,

"You! You have come here to watch me in my destitution! Mrs Hatherwick, I have served you well, I do not deserve for you to gloat over my misfortune." She looked at Villiers as if to accuse him of double duplicity - evicting her from her home and inviting me to be the witness of her downfall.

I was about to dispute the notion that she had been a good servant - she had in truth been sullen and tearful throughout her time in service with us. But seeing her evident distress and shame, I felt it would be wrong to take her to task for her delusion. I said nothing, but I walked forward and gestured that I would help her stand if she would give me her hand. It is always better to be magnanimous towards subordinates, I have found - it costs little and cuts their whining short.

"Madam," Villiers addressed me with a strength not usually to be found in him, "I do not know why you are here. I can hardly think this scene is one you will enjoy - it is best you return to Sydney Walk forthwith."

"Thank you for your concern, Villiers, but I am perfectly capable of deciding my own actions. I wish to know why you are preventing them from enetering their home." The Girl began to cry again at this, and started raving at us both.

"It is not my home any more, you have seen to that! I have no home! Go away both of you, we do not need you or your charity - I only want what I am owed!"

"But what of the gentleman who lived here with you?," I asked her, "The friend of my husband for whom you were working - is he dead?" Perhaps my instinct had been right after all.

The moment I asked that question, the Girl shouted a great scornful sneer, while Villiers ran to her with his hands outstretched, as if to stifle her mouth.

"Ha! Dead? He is as good as dead, Ma'am," she scoffed, "At least he is dead to me and this poor boy!" She picked up the child, who clung to her but still made no sound.

"Madam, please turn and go back at once. There is really no cause for you to remain here," said Villiers. He turned back to the girl and passed some money into her pockets. "Take what I am giving you here and go to your intended - go now." He seemed not a little affected by the scene and was clearly fighting to control himself - he did not squeak, or flap, or perform any of his usual dances when agitated. It occurred to me that I had never seen him so controlled.

The Girl counted the money Villiers had given her, then collected her belongings and set off away from us, carrying that silent boy on her hip.

Villiers' face was a picture of torment as he moved towards me with a sweeping gesture, as if to wipe the previous fifteen minutes from memory. I walked ahead of him, not wishing for his company.

I had for some years come to hold Villiers in high regard but this morning had begun to shed light on some of his behaviour that had been of concern to me. As I walked back to our rooms, I began to make sense of it.

The conclusion I arrived at was shocking to me.

He is often out of the house at night - all night - something which none of the other servants were wont to do. After the Girl first left our employ, he would smirk and giggle whenever she was mentioned as if he knew something about her that I did not. His lack of concern for LB when he was charged with protecting him.

Villiers had got the Girl with child back at Blindingham. He had caused her to be dismissed and set her up in an apartment in London - where he had been living with her as man and wife! And now she has betrayed him with another man - a man she is free to marry - so Villiers has cast her out in a fit of jealousy.

His argument with Josiah can only have been because Josiah wished Villiers to take the Girl the money she had asked from him and Villiers thought she was not deserving of it.

How could I not have seen this before? How could all this have gone on under my roof and left me in all ignorance?

Hiatus

Sydney Walk
May 10th 1853

I had fully intended to take matters into my own hands this morning, after Josiah spoke sharply to Villiers again at breakfast. I was planning to ensure that the servants were all out or occupied so that they would not be witness to an angry exchange between husband and wife - I pride myself on having ensured throughout our marriage that Josiah and I have hardly had a cross word and any we have spoken have been entirely in private. I had left a note for Villiers instructing him to go shopping for the wherewithal for me to knit something for Boo's girl, and I knew the kitchen staff would be going to the markets.

As I approached Josiah's dressing room door - which was closed as usual and most probably locked - I could hear voices. Josiah was talking urgently to Villiers. They were both trying their best to whisper, but, being men, were unable to stay quiet for long.

"God damn you, man!" I heard my husband say. I could tell he was speaking through his teeth, which always makes him spit a little. I hoped for the sake of the laundry staff that he had already removed the silk jacket he had been wearing.

"Sir, please do not involve me any further - I am a faithful butler to you, you cannot gainsay me there - but I do not wish to carry out your instructions on this matter." Villers was pleading in his whiny way, but I could tell he was determined.

"You will do as I ask!"

"I will not!"

"You most certainly will!"

"Do not ask it of me!"

They argued this way like grown schoolboys for a minute or two, before falling into an enraged silence. Then I heard Villiers say,

"Very well, sir - as you are my master I must do your bidding. But I wish you to know that I object most strongly to your instruction. There is a child's welfare involved here, Sir. A child whose happiness should surely be of concern to you."

"Damn you, Villiers! You will not speak to me again about that child, except to tell me when he and his wretched, grasping mother have left that house. Now get out of my sight and go do as you have been ordered!"

This sounded quite final and I did not wish to be caught listening, so I rushed to my own room and stood where I could not be seen from the landing. Villiers threw the dressing room door open and - with a noise which was neither a sob, nor a roar but something in between - hurled himself down the stairs and through to the servants' quarters. My good intention to approach Josiah deserted me momentarily, as the door was slammed shut and immediately locked again.

Villiers was clearly about to go out to perform a task for Josiah - one which he was extremely reluctant to undertake. I reasoned that he would not want at the same time to be burdened with a choice of wools, so I moved as quickly as I could to retrieve the note I had left for him. It was at that moment I decided to follow him.

Delivery

Sydney Walk
May 9th 1853


Boo has had her baby. A ruddy-faced boy arrived at our front door carrying a note from Mr Pitt, telling me that Boo had been safely delivered of a beautiful girl (my heart did twist a little, I must confess, at the thought of having a girl baby to play with). They have not named her yet but the note said Boo was keen for Josiah and me to know of the birth before the announcement cards are sent.

I feel privileged to be so close to Boo and her family that we should receive such special attention.

A girl! A baby sister for LB to look after. When he was born I straight away sent some mittens or boots or somesuch knitted finery - I have neglected to prepare for this arrival in the same way, so shall send Villiers out for wool this morning and set about making something. I would go, since I love nothing better than a reason to visit shops, but Dauncey is not quite himself and I am loath to leave him. Besides, Villiers has a better eye than I have for fabrics and colours. He will be in his element when we come to redesign the interiors of the Hall.

Giving the game away

Sydney Walk
May 7th 1853

Is there any other wife in the land who has as much to endure as I have? I do not think that even in the company of the worldliest of women I could describe the events of the past day. My powers of deduction have been put to great use and my tolerance has been tested beyond all measure. I have once again determined that should my services as a wife and businesswoman be no longer required I shall present myself to the constabulary and find employment there. That would be preferable to the vexations of being a Lady with servants. The most outrageous demands are being put on me and I am at a loss as to what I am supposed to do next.

The Girl has found someone stupid enough to marry her - and she believes Josiah should present her with a dowry!

I found her crumpled and misspelt note in the deepest pocket of his silk night jacket - it has clearly been read a number of times, possibly thrown in the grate and retrieved, then used to clean his shoes for all I know. I read it and replaced it in the blink of an eye while Josiah was downstairs shouting at the postboy. I shall reproduce it now,

Josiah ( how dare she address him thus!)

I have had no word from you for days (why would she?) so am reduced to contacting you like this. I shall bring this letter to your door before daybreak so that your wife need have no sight of it. (Well it is some blessing, I suppose, that she is mindful enough of my feelings not to bore me with her goings on). The simple fact is that I can no longer survive as I have been and you should not expect me to. I must put food on the table for Jojo and myself. You have not been of any help to us for a long time now (since I insisted her wages should not come from us any more, I expect. The avaricious madam - was her income from the gentleman she worked for not enough?) so I have taken action to protect myself and the child.

I have accepted an offer of matrimony from a gentleman I met whilst walking Jojo in the park. (Goodness me! I walk in the park, too but have never been proposed to whilst doing so) I do care for him but mainly he has a good income. Jojo and I will be well looked after. I know his welfare is still important to you even if mine is not. (I did not understand this part, but she has always been prone to self pity so I assume it is nothing more than that. I well remember the snivelling and wailing she indulged in at Blindingham and during our first season in town)

My reason for writing is to ask you for a sum of money - enough to make it worth the gentleman's while taking us on. I will leave the exact amount to you to decide but do not leave it long before you get the money to me (the effrontery of the woman!) We plan to be wed by the Summer. You do not have to come to the wedding of course but you would be welcome, Jojo does ask after you (does he? Why?)

Send word straight away,

C

This familiar way of signing letters is abhorrent but I should not expect more of someone in her position.

So - we are being asked to fund her and her idiot child so that a man who should know better can
justify her hand in marriage. What on earth does any of this have to do with us - we have not been her employers for a year at least. Has she no other family?

No wonder Josiah is so incensed. He is an honourable man who will wish to recognise the service the Girl gave us for all those years, but not with a gift of money at a time when we need all that we have at our disposal to rebuild the Hall. He must be worried about how to accede to the spirit of her request without financial inconvenience to us. And he is obviously anxious to protect me from this knowledge, having realised - correctly - that my first instinct would be to deny her and her child anything they asked.

I shall have to devise a way to help Josiah through this without letting him know that I have found and read her note. I say again, my powers of detection, deduction and discretion are second to none!

Discovery

Mission statement

Sydney Walk
May 4th 1853

Boo has proved to be the trustworthy companion I always knew she was. I rushed to see her earlier today, with much on my mind to discuss with her. I could not put up with Josiah's ranting any more and was in sore need of a friendly ear - I know Boo does not hold Josiah in high regard but am not disposed to display much wifely loyalty to him of late. His mood since we returned from Blindingham has become blacker by the day. I have tried my very best to support him and help soothe whatever it is that is troubling him but he will have none of my ministrations, preferring instead to barge about the place and bark at the staff. I could bear that, I suppose, but I shall not be spoken to like that myself. So when he began to turn his dark demeanour towards me, I fled for the sanctuary of Boo's bosom (which is prodigious at the moment, I could hardly keep from staring at it).

I told Boo how struck with terror we all are when Josiah is at home at present - Villiers has taken to whimpering whenever he hears a door opening and the woman who cooks for us can be heard weeping throughout the day. Really, it is more than I should have to bear! Boo agreed with me and was anxious to connect Josiah's behaviour with the contents of that note from the Girl. I had not thought to assume his friend's death was still at the root of Josiah's bear-headedness - Boo thought that unlikely, too. It occurred to me that I was not actually sure that the note had indeed contained the sad news I envisaged. Boo stifled another one of her looks and urged me to try and ascertain the contents of the note - she is sure that it does not bear the news I had imagined.

We had a fine afternoon and a new form of sweet bread made with coconut - I think it was mixed with milk or somesuch but whatever it was was divine - and now I am back in our rooms, determined to search Josiah's things to find that note. Whatever news it does in fact contain, I shall be prepared and will make Josiah aware that I understand - but do not condone - his subsequent behaviour. He is a silly man for not trusting me with it in the first instance. I am his wife - what am I for, if not to tend to him and ease his pain?

Urgency

Sydney Walk
May 4th 1853


Dearest Boo


I am sorry to burden you with my troubles when you have so much to occupy your thoughts at this time, but I absolutely must speak and there is no other person on this good earth that I trust more than you. I know that what I tell you will stay with you and not reach the ears of any other living soul, save for the whisperings you may make to your unborn child. I fear, however, such actions may taint the pure innocence of that child - should it understand you.

My duty as a wife prevents me from writing any more here. I simply must see you at your earliest convenience. I shall tell the boy to wait for your instruction,

Soonest,

E x

Outburst

Sydney Walk
May 2nd 1853


Josiah is not himself, I am sorry to record. I shall not write much at the moment as he is downstairs and in one of the darkest tempers I have seen. I do not know what has caused this particular bout of anger, but I must do all I can to calm him. He spoke so sharply to Villiers at breakfast that I had to intervene. Villiers is in the servants' kitchen now, crying, and I have only come up to my rooms to look for smelling salts. I hope this mood does not last, as I have asked Papa to come for supper. I shall see what this afternoon brings before deciding whether or not to put him off from coming.

Part Exchange

Sydney Walk
April 27th 1853


Boo is as big as a house. She was not that size when full with LB, I am sure - I asked her whether she was quite convinced it was just one child she might be carrying but this did not make her laugh as much as I thought it would. Poor lamb - I have never hidden my envy of her state of motherhood but if I am to be truthful it is a clean, dressed sweet-smelling child I hanker after, not the terrible burden and pain that must be endured to achieve it.

Still, Boo was much amused by my story of Cook and the village people and she is, as I hoped, full of ideas for the new decorations for the Hall. She did become a little distracted when I told her about the note Josiah had received from the Girl - asking me quite curtly why I had not opened it. After I had explained my utmost respect for the fact that it was not addressed to me, she gave me a very strange look which I can only imagine was caused by the temporary discomforts suffered by women in her condition. She cheered up very quickly though and took the Press funds I had brought with me. She locked them away immediately, even before Mrs Doughty had arrived for our business meeting.

After the three of us had spent a very sensible hour discussing the workings of the Press - it is a thriving enterprise, I am assured and one which is attracting clients in increasing numbers - Mrs Doughty took her leave of us with the swiftest of polite farewells. I think she is worried that we still hold her responsible for LB's recent injuries, but really she must not concern herself any further with that. I may have to send her a note to reassure her.

I asked Boo to tell me all her news - I was aware that I had taken up most of the time with news of my own, but she seemed unwilling to say much at all. She said she was tired, so I kissed her, what bit of her I could reach over her swollen form, and came back to Sydney Walk. I shall retire tonight very happy that my life is once again normal - full of the good wishes of my friends, the satisfaction of knowing I am contributing to a proper business venture and the love of a good man. To say nothing of the admiration I enjoy from my cat.

Resolve

Sydney Walk
April 26th 1853


I am much relieved. Boo and I are friends again and we can carry on as we have done. Despite being cross with her for her silliness I am pleased it is now behind us. I cannot wait to see her and tell her all my news. She will have some ideas about the refurbishments I am sure, and she has such a good head for finance she will be invaluable in keeping my extravagance at bay.

The only shadow on my horizon now is that Dauncey appears not have forgiven me for my temporary desertion of him. He has not spent the night at the foot of my bed since we came back. I am informed that this is not unusual behaviour for a cat - Villiers was most amused by the haughtiness Dauncey displayed and was reminded, he says, of a cat that once belonged to his aunt. After a prolonged stay by the aunt in some remote part of the country, this cat refused to acknowledge her on her return and never snuffled her again despite living in her house for a good ten years more. I do not think Dauncey is so resolute, though, and I am sure he will come back to me after I have shown suitable remorse. Perhaps some milk might do the trick.

I am to visit Boo later on today - I am so keen to see her and to resume my duties as an employer at the Press that I shall take some funds with me as a gesture of goodwill. I shall hand Boo some banknotes without even waiting to be asked - that is how glad I am she has forgiven me!

Second post

Rapprochement

Sydney Walk
April 18th 1853


Dear Boo

Josiah and I are back in London. We have been much occupied with giving directions for the rebuilding of the Hall, making sure Cook is safe and other such activities and have only now returned to our winter residence.

My reason for writing to you Boo is entirely conciliatory. I am aware that you are approaching your confinement and would be sorry to miss your new baby simply because we had such a silly argument. Really, it seems so long ago now and so much has happened since (I have much to tell you if you are keen to hear it) that I hope we can put it behind us and carry on as the firm friends we so recently were.

I fancy we shall be staying up in Town for longer this year than we have done before. We cannot live in the Hall until it is entirely rebuilt and I wish to make myself available to you if you should need me to care for LB while you are getting to know your new little one. Also, I am woefully out of touch with the activities of the Press and have told Josiah that I do not wish to uproot myself again so soon. He is so enthusiastic about the rebuilding plans that he intends to go back regularly to Blindingham until the work is finished. It is fortunate, I suppose, that Mrs Cornbench has proved so accommodating - Josiah enjoys her company and that of her husband, even though I find him very drab.

I will not prattle on, Boo, until I know we are friends again. Please write back and say we are.

Yours

Effie

Quiet reassurance

Lydiatt House
April 11th 1853


I have woken up exhausted from the trials of yesterday. After I took my leave of the woman from the village I went directly to the Post Mistress and asked her to send a message to Horsham that Cook is to be collected immediately in a secure vehicle. I do not think I have the strength to witness her departure, so shall have to comfort myself with the knowledge that I have done all that is in my power to help her. When Cook is safely strapped into her transport and away from Blindingham for sure, I shall send a basket of breads to the woman and her brother to thank them.

As I came back to Lydiatt in the afternoon I could hear strange sounds from somewhere on the upper landing. Having not the slightest interest in what the Cornbench children do to fill their days, I gave it no thought. But I was a little surprised, I must allow, to see Mrs Cornbench come scampering down the stairs, rather in the manner Dauncey uses when I have surprised him in the middle of an afternoon nap. I expect a cat to sleep as often as it can and in as many obscure crannies of the house he can find - so to find that Mrs Cornbench also seems to favour an afternoon rest in the attic (at least I assume that is where she was - the door to that part of the house was swinging open as she descended in a fluster to the hallway) was disconcerting.

I was just about to tell her my tale of Cook and the village woman when Josiah appeared from upstairs. Bless and save the man, he has been wrestling with his grief for days now and is spending a good deal of his time alone. I went to him but he is still so saddened that he could not quite bring himself to kiss me. I rather think his sensibilities are such that he is disinclined to be affectionate towards me in front of our hosts - Mrs Cornbench was close by, waiting to offer us tea I expect. Josiah is a proud and thoughtful man, indeed. After spending my day in the company of such poor and crazed folk, I am delighted simply to be in his presence. I do not need physical manifestations of my husband's love for me. The expression on Mrs Cornbench's face as all three of us were gathered in the hall was sufficient proof of the regard in which I am held by him.

Back to Bedlam

Lydiatt House
April 10th 1853


It was Cook! Today has been one of such emotion and upheaval I can hardly sort my head from my heart - oh, the relief at seeing her, and the fear of what is to become of her!

I walked from Lydiatt down to the village as slowly as I could this morning. In truth I did not want to find the cottage, or the couple, or Cook. I took rest on a bench near the Inn, before climbing the hill to St Beverel's but after some minutes of gathering my breath and my strength I could find no further reason to delay.

The cottage was small but well looked after and as I approached I could see a woman in the garden. I hid for a while behind some hedging but began to feel too silly so I coughed a little and made as if to clear some mud from my shoe. The woman noticed me and called out,

"Good morning, Madam. Are you quite well? Do you need some help?"

I fiddled a moment longer with my shoe and then answered her.

"I do indeed need help and am grateful for your kindness."

"Blindingham is a friendly place, Madam. We will always go to the aid of a soul in need, any one of us in the village." She smiled at me and opened her garden gate to welcome me in. I ignored her shameful misrepresentation of the leaden boobies she lives amongst and went straight to the reason for my visit.

"I know the village well, thank you," I said, "I am the mistress of Blindingham Hall. I am Mrs Josiah Hatherwick."

The woman looked at me as though I had declared myself to be Queen Victoria herself. She rushed to bring me to a seat and produced a glass of lemon water from a jug on the bench beside me.

"You are Mrs Hatherwick?" she whispered after some time. "You are the poor lady whose house burnt down? Oh my dear Lady you must be beside yourself with worry. You are very welcome here, please be assured of that."

"Actually, the Hall has not been entirely destroyed," I told her, "Some damage was sustained to the West Wing and the Orangery, but I am confident that we shall be able to restore and refurbish it before long. I have had some very exciting ideas for new furnishings and will soon be instructing furniture makers and decorators. I want to create the feel of Osborne House whilst retaining the essence of the Hall as a country residence. There are some divine new upholstery fabrics in the London shops which I am sure would not be out of place down here."

The woman listened to me with a look of comfort and a little confusion on her face. She did not answer.

"Of course, that is not why I have come to seek you out this morning. I am trying to find our Cook. She was in the Hall when the fire broke out and none of us has has seen her since. I have been given to understand she may have taken sanctuary with you."

Another few moments passed before the woman spoke to me.

"My brother was fortunate enough to find a poor, distressed lady walking the road to Lydiatt in obvious disarray a week or so ago. She was confused and could not tell him her name. She said very little, in fact, except to keep worrying that supper was going to be late because she could not find the kitchen. John could not leave her to carry on walking the streets in that condition."

"Indeed not," I agreed, although I think had I been the one who found Cook rambling about supper in her undergarments I should have gladly left her to it.

"We took the lady in and have been caring for her but I must confess I am not best placed to provide the help she needs. Keeping her nourished and safe has left me little time for anything else." She poured me another measure of lemon water as she spoke. "Can I ask, have you come to take her home?"

"Alas, I have not," I told her, "My husband and I are depending on the kindness of our neighbours until the Hall is restored. I could not take her back there with me at all."

"I see - yes. I should have deduced that for myself." She sounded weary, such that I quite wanted to hug her for her kindness towards Cook. I did not, of course.

We spoke for a few mintes more and then she asked if I would like to see Cook, who was upstairs resting. I accompanied her into the cottage with some trepidation, I admit.

Cook was a sorry sight. She was lying in a tiny bed with her hair all matted and crazy around her face. She was snoring a little and wheezing as she slept. As I watched her I could of think of nothing so much as the bellows the staff use to draw the fires in London. They make a similar sound and are as fragile. I left the room quickly for fear of waking her up.

The woman was waiting for me at the foot of her staircase. "My brother and I can not care for her here, Mrs Hatherwick," she said, "even though we are good Christians who know our duty. I am truly saddened at this lady's plight, but what is to be done? She is not to be left unattended for more than a minute. I am frightened of what she might do."

I knew at once that she was genuinely concerned for Cook's safety and for her own. It is a marvel her tiny cottage had housed Cook for this long and remained intact. I had to make a responsible decision, as Cook's former employer and as this woman's superior.

"Please do not worry," I said to her," I shall send for a carriage from Horsham. She must return there. I know of no other action for the best. I will go straight now to the Post Office and send word to the sanitorium."

The woman was shocked at my resolve.

"Horsham? Really?" she said. I nodded, holding my face in a grave and responsible expression.

"Horsham," she repeated. "That poor, poor soul."

Decision

Lydiatt House
April 9th 1853


Josiah spent the whole night in the dressing room. Mrs Cornbench had been thoughtful enough to set up a day bed in there for him while he has been staying here to give instructions as to what should be done at the Hall. The rooms set aside for our use (we must find a way to make adequate recompense to the woman as soon as we are free of this place) are nice enough, but Josiah is being too polite to request a fire or anything much in the way of help from the servants. He has been sleeping on the day bed in preference to the one in 'our' room. Last night I sat outside his door for hours hoping he would need me to comfort him, but he did not call upon me. I can only guess at the anguish he feels at the death of his friend.

Today I am to visit the cottage near St Beverel's to see if Cook is indeed there. I should be keen to find her alive after all these weeks but in truth I can not bring myself to care overmuch. I am being dutiful as a good employer should be, not excited as a friend. After all, if it is her, what is to be done with her? She may have been the cause of the fire - I rather fear she shall not be welcome at the Hall in future. I will certainly not bring her to London - she would cause havoc in the streets. She would not cut such an unusual figure amongst the residents of Bayswater, it must be acknowledged, but I find myself unwilling to take on the responsibility of keeping her safe for much longer.

No, if Cook is upstairs in that cottage she can stay there. And if they do not wish to deal with her ravings she must go back to Horsham.

Shoot the messenger

Lydiatt House
April 8th 1853

I am quite beside myself and have not the remotest notion of what to do!

This morning, as I made ready to leave for Blindingham, Villiers appeared with a smirk on his face and a hand-delivered note on the salver. The note, he said, had been pushed through the letterbox at break of day and was found lying on the doormat as innocently as you please. I saw at once that it was addressed to Josiah, in the handwriting of an uneducated person with the word 'Urgent' scrawled across the top of the envelope. Fearing it might be something to do with one of Josiah's business interests, or perhaps some underhand communication from an employee, I decided immediately to pack the note in with my belongings and set off.

Villiers saw me place the note in my pocketbook and gave one of his little squeaks. I know that sound to mean that he has something to say to me but wishes me to invite him to speak, rather than wait for an unsolicited approach. I also know that this is a device by which he can impart unwelcome information and blame me for requesting it. Really, he is as devious as a woman at times.

"Villiers," I ventured, "Is there anything you wish to say to me?"

"I am afraid there is, ma'am, yes." He looked at me gravely, as one who is carrying bad news might. "I think ma'am may be interested to know the sender of this note before it is transported to Blindingham."

I was curious, of course, but determined to observe the conventions of written communication in a civilised society. They have been arrived at through gentleman's agreement and there is as yet no law against opening envelopes addressed to others, even one's own relatives. But that should not mean I am at liberty to pry where I am clearly not included - where would society rest if we all did just as we wished, even in moments of high passion?

"I expect I shall discover the identity of the sender as soon as the note has reached its rightful destination, Villiers," I said, as coolly as I could. "The note is meant for Mr Hatherwick, not myself."

"Indeed it is, Ma'am. I am sorry to have suggested otherwise. I am sure she will not be expecting you to read the note before Mr Hatherwick does." Villiers then dashed out of the room and hurried as quickly as propriety would allow down the stairs and into the servants' kitchen.

She? What She? Did Villiers mean that the note was delivered by a woman? A woman known to me?

I busied myself with my gloves and twittered about with Dauncey whilst the maid laced my boots and called for the carriage. I watched the driver load my luggage on board, then climbed inside and instructed him to begin the journey. The note was in my pocketbook, on the seat beside me.

I glanced up at the house as we left and saw Villiers and the maid standing at the top of the street steps, laughing.

I took out the note and stared at the writing. It did indeed seem familiar. It wasn't Boo's writing else I would have recognised it straight away, and besides she has no call to write to Josiah without my knowledge.

A moment later, as the carriage struck a particularly poor section of road, my heart leapt straight out of my chest and sat beating loudly in my mouth. I remembered where I had seen that writing before.

The ill-formed letters, the poor arrangement of the words and the smudging of the ink all combined to bring me to a quite shocking conclusion.

The note had been sent by The Girl!

Why would she write to him? What could possibly be so important that she, a servant, should take it upon herself to make direct communication in writing to her previous employer? Why could not her master, Josiah's friend, have written?

It was at that moment the full horror struck me. The note and the manner of its delivery could only mean one thing.

I was to carry to Josiah the news that his friend and associate had died.

I have had a number of fretful journeys to Blindingham of late, but none so worrisome as this one. My poor husband was to receive sad news of the death of his friend and I was to be the bearer. I spent the whole time thinking how best I could bring cheer to him, such that by the time I alighted at the Cornbench's house (how tiresome that we should still have to accept their thin, grey hospitality) I was exhausted.

Josiah walked out to greet me and all my plans for a loving reunion were forgotten. I took his hand, kissed it, and gave him The Girl's note. His face drained of all its colour the moment he saw it - his powers of mental alertness are much more finely honed than mine and he must have deduced immediately what the envelope contained. He took it from me and opened it as he walked away towards the garden. I watched as he read it. My poor, poor darling, I could see he was much affected by its contents.

He has been alone in the dressing room for four hours now, and will not admit me into his company. All I can do is wait outside and listen as he suffers. I wish he would call me to comfort him, I could ease his torment I know I could.

Oh, I cannot bear this a moment longer! My husband is in pain and I cannot help him!

City Break

April 7th 1853
Sydney Walk

I have spent the most delightful day with Dauncey, who asks nothing of me but that I should love him. I prepared Villiers for my departure - really, it is hardly worth our having come to London this Winter. We have been more at Blindingham than anywhere else. I am determined that Josiah and I shall visit Clacton again, or perhaps Brightlingsea. We have been too much overrun with troubles of late and we are in need of a little relaxation. There is precious little of that to be had in Bayswater, I am sorry to note. I shall plan a little trip for when Josiah and I are both in London.

I am setting off at first light in the morning, so must retire now and will fall asleep telling Dauncey of my plans. He is bound to approve of them - he is such a comfort to me!

The Sound of Breaking Glass

April 5th 1853
Sydney Walk

I have learned a little of Mrs Doughty's maternal leanings from Villiers. A short time before I sent him and LB to stay with her she had fallen foul of a rotten cold. I was swift in my dispatch of them, as anyone with an inferno raging in their home would be - and had not thought to enquire as to her health at this time. Indeed I had trusted to fortune that I could not be so unlucky as to have two sick friends as well as a burning house. I was wrong.

When Villiers entered her home with the boy, Mrs Doughty gave my letter of explanation the briefest of readings and went directly to bed for a week. Villiers says she instructed her servants to be welcoming and courteous but it was soon evident that domesticity and child welfare were alien to them all. There was no fire laid in LB's room, no playthings, very little food save for a kind of broth Mrs Doughty favoured when ill and no-one to give him his bath or read to him. I had expected Villiers to undertake such duties, I suppose, but it seems he was keen not to change his nocturnal arrangements - which, when I was there to mother the poor child, were not in jeopardy. Mrs Doughty keeps unusual hours, I now know, and the whole household was silent from seven o'clock in the evening til daybreak.

So LB was bored and not a little frightened I imagine. At least I believe that to be the reasoning behind his behaviour. Poor lamb, who could blame him for being so terrified of a cold, quiet house when he was used to Boo's chatter and my ministrations. The boy needed to hear noise and life going on around him.

And it is utter folly to place glass ornaments on an upstairs landing anyway, everybody must know that.

Mrs Doughty tired of LB's boyish exuberance after the third day, Villiers tells me, by which time only the Waterford was left intact. She whisked him by hansom cab back to Boo's house - whereupon Boo was heard to blame me - in my absence - for the cuts on his face! The injustice of it.

I have decided to go to Blindingham and find this mysterious set of siblings who have secreted Cook away. I shall find out for myself whether they are heroes or scoundrels. If they are village bred it is sure to be the latter, mark my words.

Reward

Sydney Walk
Monday April 3rd 1853

I am astounded that I have not received so much as a thank you from Boo for looking after her precious child. Not a note, nor any flowers despite my having fed and coddled him all the while she was on her sick bed. She is in severe danger of my never speaking to her again. Indeed were it not for the boy himself and the Press I would be glad to cut her out of my life completely. I shall speak to Mrs Doughty to find out what happened while I was away to make Boo take LB back.

Josiah has sent word that a man from the village is claiming that he has seen Cook. He went to the Hall as Josiah was walking over the Orangery - what there is of it - with a surveyor and told him that he had found Cook in a distressed condition, walking half dressed along the lane towards Lydiatt. He recognised her, he said, from when he used to visit the hall with his father to deliver coal. Apparently she is now staying with this man and his sister in a cottage near St Beverel's Chapel.

I read Josiah's note with a lightening heart until I reached the final part. It seems the man will not take Josiah to see Cook, he says she is too frail, but has asked for funds with which to feed and clothe her. Funds indeed! Josiah gave him a few shillings - he is a soft hearted bear and I love him for it - but said he would give no more til he has seen Cook with his own eyes. He is a wise man, too, I am glad to know.

Oh, how weary I am of it all! I am surrounded by self serving ingrates when all I have tried to do is provide succour. I should travel back to Blindingham to visit this sister and find Cook - but I am loth to put myself out for anyone any more. I have had my fill of people taking advantage of my good nature.

Continued absence

Sunday April 2nd 1853
Sydney Walk

I am astounded at Boo's ingratitude! I sent word to Mrs Doughty that I am back in London and more than ready to welcome LB back into my household. After an hour, which I spent plumping his pillows, arranging his nightgown and telling Dauncey about my adventures at Blindingham, the servant came back without him. Instead of carrying that darling child up to my room, he handed me a note which I could barely read, so blinded was I by tears of bitter disappointment.

It appears that Boo has rallied such that she is able to have her son with her after all. All my little hopes and dreams of skipping with him in the park tomorrow have been dashed on the rocks of Boo's recovery. I am angry beyond words and only glad that Josiah is not here to see my fury.

Villiers has returned from Mrs Doughty's and is sweeping about downstairs making sure the staff have kept up his standards in his absence. But I must not confide my feelings in him. He is a servant and a man - both those attributes rob him of the understanding I require.

I shall persuade Dauncey to sleep with me tonight. Oh, that selfish, selfish woman!

Happy returns

Sydney Walk
March 30th 1853

My Dearest Boo

I do hope you are feeling better, my darling friend. When Mrs Doughty wrote to me in Blindingham with news of LB and Villiers I resolved to come back to London straight away. I could not bear to be apart from them - and by association yourself - a minute longer. I am blessed with a doting husband, as you know, and when he found me in fits of weeping at the thought of staying away another night he called a carriage for me immediately. He remains in Blindingham, staying with the Cornbenches (who are a drab pair with clingy, grey children but who are at the very least not from the village) He is overseeing the structural security of the Hall and planning to drain the lake.

But what of it, I am here! Back in Bayswater ready to welcome LB to his temporary but very loving home. I think Mrs Doughty was happy to help for a while but she is not accustomed to the sounds and smells of an occupied household - not as you and I are - and I will wager that Villiers and she did not see eye to eye. Her account of his nighttime habits have proved to me that she is not as tolerant a woman as she might appear in daylight.

But that is of no matter now. I pray for your speedy recovery, Boo! Not only so that you can have your boy back in your arms - I need your worldly advice in furnishings and fashionable decor. I have a project which I cannot wait to discuss with you.

I shall call as soon as you are well enough,

Yrs

Effie x

Neighbourly relations

Lydiatt House
March 22nd 1853

I have loved my home for so long that I have been quite blind to the parlous stupidity of its village folk. This waiting for news of Cook is so tiresome that I find I no longer care overmuch whether she is alive or dead - she is sure to be one or the other. I have spent more time than I care to contemplate wandering the village lanes in search of her. At the start I was alive with eager hope that she would come walking around the next corner, scolding me for wearing unsuitable boots as she used to do. I am only slightly sorry to confess that now I would be happy for a glimpse of her under a bush or floating in Bartle Pond - anything that would bring an end to this uncertainty.

I visit Mrs Everdown in the Forester's Arms every morning to see if she has had word, but she is becoming increasingly vague as her vigil there goes on. When all this is over I shall insist that Josiah does not employ her as housekeeper of the rebuilt Hall - she is unlikely to appreciate the sophisticated new surroundings I am planning. She is too much of a villager for us after all, and resembles her bovine daughter more closely than I had imagined.

The people in Blindingham are well meaning enough, I suppose but oh! they are so dense and harsh of feature. There is not one of them without a nose like a pineapple. Everywhere I go I see the same thick set brows and square jaws looking back at me - I feel as if I have stumbled univited upon a family gathering. I wonder I had not noticed before how dim and pockmarked they all are.

If cook does not appear soon - quick or dead - I shall return to civilisation and be thankful that I do not have to conduct my business in the sawdust and smoke of a village hostelry. The air in the streets of Bayswater is a good deal fresher, I will swear to it.

Silver Lining

Lydiatt House
March 21st 1853


At last we have had some good news. Josiah has had word from London - we are to be reimbursed for every penny we spend on restoring the Hall! What a clever husband I have. He is such a pioneer in business and financial matters and I am very fortunate to have him to look after me so well - it pains me that Papa does not see Josiah as I do. I am even more determined to get back to London now to begin choosing new furnishings. I shall fashion the East Wing in the style our dear Queen has chosen for Osborne House, I think. I do not propose to bother Josiah much with the details but I shall deliver him the most fashionable country residence in all England to show him how proud I am of his business dealings. And I shall no longer be obliged to accept Mrs Cornbench's offer of her cast off sticks - thank the Lord for Josiah and for the Prudential Insurance Company!

Unbearable Darkness

Lydiatt House
March 19th 1853


I cannot bear to stay here another day. Mrs Cornbench seems so delighted to be able to provide respite and succour to 'our poor, poor neighbours' that I could almost fancy she set the Hall alight herself.

Happily, I may not have to endure her ministrations for much longer. Josiah is anxious to get back to London and arrange our finances so that we can begin to effect the restoration. I have told him I want the finest materials and the best builders working on my home - I was grateful that the men in the village came to save the Hall for us but I hardly think them skilfull enough to rebuild it!

Having suffered such a terrible shock, I find this house far too depressing to my spirits. I need light and fine things around me, but the Cornbenches have arranged this house as though they have taken a vow of self denial. There is scant furniture to speak of and what there is is dark and simple. There are a few pieces which I myself would have chosen - indeed I am sure that we have some very similar at the Hall (if they have been spared from the fire) - but mostly it is small and uncomfortable. I do not know where the Cornbenches came from originally, but very little in this house has been passed down, I can tell.

I am desperate to see LB again - I even miss Villiers, who would be discreet but just as horrified as I am by the way the Cornbenches live. (I may inadvertently pack a pillowcase in my luggage just to watch him squeal at its ordinariness. Has she some medical condition that prevents her from having silk next to her skin?) But we should not leave here until we have some notion of Cook's whereabouts, I suppose. Jennet and a couple of the village boys have searched the lake as well as they can and Mrs Everdown has spent a great deal of time waiting for her to arrive at the Inn, but there has been no sign. I confess the concern I have for her welfare wanes with every bowl of lukewarm broth and stale biscuits I am forced to eat at the Cornbenchs' table. Their meals are as drab as their curtains - at least we have the excuse that our Cook is insane.

Every hour without news is like a lifetime. I must go to London soon, I simply must.

Remains of the Day

Lydiatt House
March 16th 1853


Dearest Mrs Doughty

I can hardly write, I am so shaken by what I have seen. I am compelled to make contact with you since you are so generously caring for LB, but I fear I will make little sense in this letter. Please grant forbearance - what you are about to read will no doubt be an outward manifestation of the turmoil I find myself in.

I was happily sitting in Sydney Walk just a few short days ago - and yet it seems a lifetime away in truth - when a messenger arrived at our door with an urgent missive from Mrs Cornbench, our neighbour back in the village. I confess I have found her nothing short of meddlesome in the past so I was not inclined to read her letter at first, but the man was insistent that Josiah should be fetched fom his work and should read the message forthwith. Oh, Mrs Doughty - the news it contained, I can barely bring myself to put in words...

Blindingham Hall, my beautiful home, has been burned beyond all recognition - and we fear that Cook has perished in the flames!

It seems that Jennet awoke one night to see the East wing ablaze. He rode straight into the village and managed to raise a goodly crowd of local men to come back with him. How lucky we are to have such standing with our neighbours that they will leave their beds to help us. Jennet arranged a string of them to pass buckets of water from our lake up to the house while he himself went inside to find Mrs Everdown and the staff. I shall make sure he is well compensated for his trouble when we are more settled - without his brave actions we should surely be homeless and without a servant to our names.

By the time Josiah and I reached home - after perhaps the most terrifying journey anyone could be expected to undertake - we happened upon the sorriest sight. The whole of the East Wing has crumbled, the Orangery is in tatters and the lawns are blackened, all shrubbery destroyed. The main Hall and West End are - by the mercy of God - intact and Jennet's lodge, being some distance from the hall itself, has been spared. We cannot spend a night in the Hall, though, until all burning ashes are extinguished and the roof has been made safe. Josiah is calculating the cost of all this as I sit here describing it - he is in a state of utter devastation, poor man.

Oh, Mrs Everdown and the undermaids are safe, but there is no sign of Cook! Her rooms were in the East Wing - did she set herself ablaze in a fit of madness? By mistake? Perhaps she thought she was back in the kitchens and was starting to prepare Supper. It is all the most dreadful mess.

I shall write more when we have found her, or at least any sign that she was there - if I make myself clear. I cannot bear to contemplate what may have happened to her. If she was not consumed in the fire - where is she?

We are staying with the Cornbenches for the present - it is strangely comforting since much of their furniture reminds me of home. I do believe I detect a little satisfaction on that woman's face but since I am at her mercy I must remain silent, for now.

Give LB a kiss from me and tell Villiers that Jennet asked after him,

Yrs

Effie H

Trouble at the Hall

Sydney Walk
March 10th 1853

My Dear Mrs Doughty

We have had the most dreadful news from home. Josiah and I must return immediately to Blindingham for I do not know how long and we cannot take Boo's boy with us. I am sending him to you in the company of our manservant Villiers and pray that you can house them both until we are back inLondon.

I am beside myself with worry, but I am sure that you will do Boo and myself this kindness - please be assured that I will be in touch again as soon as I am able. I cannot thank you enough for reading this letter in what I am confident will be a state of calm capability and compassion.

Do not be concerned about how to entertain the child - Villiers and he get along delightfully and will hardly be in your way at all. You may wish to let Boo know that he is with you and that I shall reimburse you for any expenditure you incur in the feeding of them both.

I must leave off now,

Yours in gratitude

Effie H.

Exuberance

Sydney Walk
March 8th 1853

Josiah is still reluctant to spend time with LB, but I have seen him standing over his cot when he is asleep and I know that he is as smitten with him as I am. When I heard him singing so softly last night - a tune I know his father sang to him - I could have wept with joy. My darling husband is fond of children after all and there is hope for us yet!

Mrs Doughty has been wonderful. She is managing all the business of the Press without Boo or myself to help her. Well, I have suggested that she contact Papa to see if he could offer his experience to the girls in some way and I believe he is often to be found there, no matter what time of day or night. I am glad that he has found a channel for his energies and that both he and the press will benefit from that connection, so I suppose I have still been of use to them despite my joyful incarceration in Sydney Walk.

This afternoon, LB was running happily around the hallway when he inadvertently trod on Villiers' foot. The pair of them fell to such a peal of yelping that I had to hold tight to Dauncey to stop him jumping from the nearest window! Villiers hopped about the hall for a good five minutes, while LB stood against the front door calling for his mother, his nurse and, eventually, me.

Villiers is now in the kitchen with his foot in a bowl of warmed milk and a flannel across his brow. He does not say so, but I can tell that he believes LB hurt him with malicious intent, although the boy is adamant that he did not see Villiers beside him. I told Villiers that, if were indeed a deliberate act, a child cannot be taken from his home and everything he knows without showing some degree of wilfulness, but he is an old-fashioned sort in many ways and I am sure he is praying for Boo's speedy recovery.Oh, the trials of parenthood and staff management!

LB is in his nightgown, playing in my room and is a great deal more settled. I am sure that he, too is hoping to hear very soon that Boo has been restored to good health. It is a guilty admission on my part to acknowledge that I am not.

Nothing left

Sydney Walk
March 3rd 1853

I am far too exhausted to write my journal these days. LB is only a small child, and bless his heart he is asleep for twelve hours in every day, but he fills the other twelve with such liveliness and so many demands that I am quite spent once he is in his cot in the evenings.

Striking resemblance

Sydney Walk February 27th 1853

I always knew I had a great capacity for maternal love and I will be eternally grateful to LB for allowing me to experience it - even if only for a short while. He is a delightful child and I will smother him with kisses until he has to leave us. I am quite amazed by his constant inquisitiveness. Whenever the maid or I have our backs turned he is inside a cupboard, under a bed or struggling to open a window - on a never ending quest for enlightenment, I suppose.

Sadly, Josiah has been unusually tested with his business deals at the moment and has not been able to spend much time at home with us. I hope we can have LB for a good while yet - although I know that means Boo would still be stricken in her pregnancy, poor goose - because I know Josiah will adore him in an instant. He was not happy when I announced LB's arrival but he respects my wish to do Boo this service and I am sure that when he bounces the boy on his knee for the first time he will melt as quickly as I have done. This will perhaps serve better than the occasional picnic as a ruse to turn Josiah and I into proper parents....

Oh, the boy is wondrous! He reminds me so much of Josiah as he plays with wooden bricks and demands biscuits from anyone who passes. He has a quizzical look when thwarted which recalls Josiah exactly, and when he is happy he makes a little barking sound which is Josiah to the core. It is enough to make me wonder which is the right way round - do men become fully matured by the age of three, or do boy children grow taller but never any wiser? The two states are almost indistinguishable, whether three or thirty three. I may turn my hand to a scientific study of the development of our species, since I know of none in existence.

Temporary care

Sydney Walk
February 24th 1853

We have him! Little Bradstone is in the next room as I write, snoring and snuffling as if he'd lived here all his life! I am so excited I can hardly believe it.

I arrived in the carriage at Boo's and ran up her steps with no thought of what I was about to say. When her girl opened the door I went straight in and made to go up to see Boo. I was a little overwrought, I must confess, and began calling for Boo the moment I set foot on her staircase. An enormous woman in a nurse's uniform came sweeping onto the landing to shush me, but I was absolutely set on my plan.

"I am here to collect Little Bradstone and take care of him until his mother is well enough to resume her position," I said, "And I will not hear of any other course of action!"

The nurse stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down at me. She was clearly doing her best to make a speedy assessment of my mental state and my maternal capabilities. Perhaps she was as concerned as I about Boo's mother-in-law's influence on the boy.

"I fear poor Mrs Pitt will be confined to her bed for some months to come. Pray tell me who you are and what exactly your intentions may be. She is not to be disturbed on any account but if I find that you may be able to help her by setting her mind to rest about the child, I shall go to speak with her. Well?"

I stood at the stairfoot and pronounced myself to be the best friend Boo had in the world. I said I was wealthy and loving enough to look after Boo's son as if he were my own and that nothing would give me greater pleasure than to help Boo in her hour of need. I said I could not rest knowing that there was a little boy in want of a mother's arms. I told her I had rooms until the Spring and a country house capable of housing forty such children, if they needed it.

"Stop!" she whispered, holding her large hand up to cover my face from her view. "What is your name, good lady?"


And that was all, in truth. She spent a moment or two in Boo's room and then instructed the girl to go directly and bring LB back from his Grandmother's house. I waited in Boo's hallway, seeing no purpose in accompanying the girl. And we were snug here at Sydney Walk within the hour!

Josiah stayed out of sight when I brought LB in. Villiers gave a little scream, which I took to be one of welcome, and then he took the boy from me and carried him upstairs to my bedchamber, where I had instructed him to place a small bed next to ours. LB was laid into it and, after a brief bout of whimpering, which we dealt with by the application of warm milk, he fell soundly to sleep. I felt great pride in us all that we could do such a kindness for our friends.

I was so happy that I ignored the letter from meddling Mrs Cornbench. Silly, interfering old witch.

No-one at home

Lydiatt House


My Dear Mrs Hatherwick

I hope this letter finds you in good health and that your sojourn in London continues to keep you and Mr Hatherwick suitably entertained.

This is the briefest of notes to reassure you that all appears well at Blindingham. I say 'appears' since I have not in truth gained access to the Hall on either of my last two visits there. But I am sure that were there to be any cause for concern, your Mrs Everdown would have alerted us. I made sure when I last saw her, a good month ago now, that she knew how to reach us and that she was not to suffer a moment's concern when Mr Cornbench and I are so close by and so willing to offer our support. I have heard of no such worries and have had no requests for help, so am happy to conclude that all is satisfactory.

What a capable woman she must be to look after the Hall as well your old nurse without needing a soul to share her days with. She can be forgiven for allowing the grounds to become a little unkempt while your gardener is away visiting relatives, which I presume is the reason for my not seeing him for a while. It is winter and, if a gardener can be spared at all, he is best released in February, I am sure.

Having dispensed my neighbourly duties, a task that I am more than happy to undertake, I shall leave you to enjoy your metropolitan distractions. Be reassured that I will call at Blindingham again soon and am confident I will find someone at home then.

Yours

Lorelei Cornbench

Determination

Sydney Walk
February 20th 1853


I told Josiah of my plan as soon as he had breakfasted and was settling down to his newspaper and his morning cup of heated water with lemon - he is allowed nothing stronger til his gout is fully dispersed. I was a little nervous of his reaction so just took a large breath and said outright that I was sending a carriage to bring Little Bradstone to Sydney Walk. He yelped a little then gave a short cough - a sign that his foot is still quite painful, I expect, or that the lemon had caught him unprepared. He looked at me exactly as if I had aimed a shotgun to him.

"Steady on, Eff," he said, when he could speak, "When was this decided?"

"Yesterday afternoon, when I learned that the poor boy is in the clutches of Mrs Pitt, " I answered. Josiah knows how evil she is and his expression deepened.

"What does Boo say? Does her husband agree? Where shall he sleep - have you thought about this at all, Eff?" Josiah spoke in a tight voice that made me sorry for the pain his gout must cause him, even though it is all his own doing, really.

"Boo will be happy for me to be the boy's saviour, Bradstone will be powerless to argue in the face of such generosity on our part and the boy shall sleep in our room. I have thought about this as much as I need to."

I think being Mrs Doughty's friend has had a beneficial effect on me - I would brook no argument, not even from my own husband!

After that conversation, I instructed Villiers to arrange a carriage to take me first to Boo to tell her of my favour to her and then on to Mrs Pitt's lair. As I left Sydney Walk, the maid was putting an iron over Josiah's newspaper again - it had become quite crumpled during our exchange.

Child Care

Sydney Walk
February 4th 1853


It seems Boo has known all along about Mrs Doughty's domestic situation. What a dark horse she is! I would not have thought her capable of keeping such a secret from me and shall resolve to be more inquiring in future. Still, I am proud to be associated with such a selfless woman and I have much to learn from her, though I do not think I shall ever give up hope of having a baby of my own one day.

Boo is suffering for her love of motherhood, poor thing. She is confined to her bed and is as weak as a kitten. I called to see her but the maid was adamant that she could admit no-one, not even those in the closest circle. Apparently Boo's doctor has said that she must have no excitement of any kind for fear that her heart will be put under too much strain. I asked who was looking after LB and discovered that he has been sent to stay with Bradstone's Mama! I am Boo's best friend in all the world and I know how much she dislikes her husband's mother. She must be lying abed fretting that he will return with a head full of silly nonsense and cruel intentions. That woman could strip the trees of their bark with her vicious tongue - I well remember the afternoon when she told me that I had made a terrible mistake in taking Josiah for my husband. She called him a feckless wastrel and said that I was doomed to a life of loneliness and sorrow. Well, if that isn't proof enough of her twisted grip on reality I do not know what would be. She is quite unsuited to the job of raising a child with sensibilities as fragile as LB's. My blood is rising even as I write!

I shall speak to Josiah in the morning - when his gout has yet to take hold for the day - and tell him we must go to fetch LB and bring him here. What sort of friend would I be if I could not look after a little boy who is missing his mama? I shall set aside one of the upstairs rooms for him and he and I shall play with Dauncey all day long and take trips to the park for fresh air. That is decided then - I shall write to Boo imediately and tell her that we will save her boy from Mrs Pitt's malicious clutches. I am quite excited at the thought that Josiah and I will have a little person to care for - Josiah will be as keen as I am, I know it!

Saintly self denial

Sydney Walk
January 15th 1853


Boo!

I understand that you are not well enough to have visitors at the moment. Indeed I should hate to bring the dangers of the outdoors to your bedside at such a time. But I simply cannot contain myself any longer and decided that the contents of this letter would not be so shocking if delivered in writing, not in person. Please make sure that you are sitting down for the rest of this letter, if you are not already, and promise me you will not alarm Little Bradstone by crying out in amazement when you hear my news.

Boo - Mrs Doughty is not, nor has she ever been, married!

What do you make of that?

I had tea with her yesterday afternoon and after a long discussion about how I might fill your shoes at the Press while you are otherwise occupied, I asked her outright. Emboldened by the situation, I enquired about the whereabouts of Mr Doughty. I said I had always wondered where she kept him and thought he must be a remarkable man to allow her such freedom and power in the London business world. This is what she said,

"My dear, any man would need to be truly remarkable to call himself my husband. I have never met one worthy of the title and am not likely to. I use the title of a married woman to deter any approach of a romantic nature from the male of our species."

I was so shocked a little bit of cake fell from my mouth.

"But then do you live alone, Mrs Doughty? You seem too full of life not to share it with a husband. I know I could not endure these long days in London without knowing I had Mr Hatherwick to talk to at night."

" Effie," she said to me "The prospect of having to explain myself to Mr Hatherwick every night is too awful to contemplate." Before more cake could spill onto my skirts, she added "Oh, I do not mean your husband above all others, my dear. Please do not think that. I simply cannot regard any man highly enough to confide my hopes and dreams in him. Now, I must take my leave of you. I have a meeting of the London hospital board to attend."

As she stood up to go, I ventured another question,

"Mrs Doughty, you have so much generosity in your soul. Have you never thought of children?"

She turned back to face me and stifled a little twitch of her mouth, I am sure.

"When I think of children, Effie, they are never my own. I have never imagined myself giving birth to or suckling an infant conceived from the sort of liaison necessary to produce one."

When she saw my still open mouth she softened slightly and said, "I am the sort of woman who is able help many people with my work. That is enough maternity for me, more than enough. I shall no doubt be seeing you again soon at the Press, but for now, farewell." Then she swept out!

Did you know this before, Boo? Why did you not say, if you did? If you were as unaware as I, then I hope I have not caused you undue shock. But goodness me, what a revelation! Mrs Doughty has turned her back on marriage and motherhood all so she can help others in greater need. She is truly deserving of a sainthood, nothing less.

Do write back with yr thoughts, Boo. We are in the presence of greatness!

Yrs

Effx