Maggie's Child (17 page)

Dukes strode over and addressed Maggie. ‘I have arranged with Mason to bring Brook to the yard tomorrow. He will be fine there, and safe. Plus I think he will do you good. I can see how much he means to you.’ Had Dukes given her a gold sovereign, Maggie couldn’t have been happier. There was a temptation to kiss his cheek in thanks. Instead she clapped her hands.

‘Oh, you most certainly have made me happy but will the Arlington’s tolerate him?’ Maggie did not want to get her hopes up.

‘Don't you worry about them. They love to take in waifs and strays.’ Dukes touched her shoulder as he laughed at his own joke.

Maggie, embarrassed by such a public gesture, shrugged him off, but she did so laughing. ‘So am I the waif or the stray?’

Dukes turned to Lizzie, ‘What say you, Lizzie? Is your mistress one or the other?’

With great indignation, Lizzie straightened her back and said, ‘Maggie is none of those things. She is just the unluckiest woman I know. If she had married a different man, she would never have needed to be taken in by anybody. Now if you will excuse me Mr Dukes, I have work to do. Maggie I will come and visit you on market day, if it pleases.’

They watched as she flounced off towards the dairy. Mason laughed and muttered something about hot headed women.

‘There, see what you have done with your joking. Upset our Lizzie. She is sweet on you, I am sure of it. You would not do wrong making friends with her, she is a good person. Her luck is as great as mine, yet she never fails to think of me.’ Maggie reprimanded Dukes.

‘She is not for me, Maggie. Too feisty. I will make it up to her when she visits next. I will introduce her to a young groom who has noticed her. Sam asked after her the last visit she made. He’s a good lad. Time is ticking along, let us put Brook here in his pen and get you back to yours.’

Maggie took a last glance at her home, noting how sad and drab it looked. If only Jacob would allow her to have a floral trellis around the door, it would brighten the front view from the lane. She wanted to put a window box outside the kitchen window with a few colourful blooms to make a dull day vibrant. Jacob dismissed the idea, never giving a reason. She wondered if his first wife ever looked at it in the same light, and whether he dismissed her wishes so flippantly.

‘That was a great sigh.’ Dukes helped her into the carriage.

‘Yes, it was rather, I was daydreaming. I would love to see this place allowed to come alive. It has beauty but a suppressed life. There is a melancholy air about it.’

Dukes closed the door. He looked into her eyes.

‘Just like its mistress. Both held back by Jacob Sawbury.’

Maggie put her head down.  He was right. She and her home were exactly the same, shabby and owned by Jacob.

Chapter 16

Sunday 8
^th
February 1857

‘Brook, you scallywag, bring that back at once.’ Maggie chased after the bouncing

ball of fluff. He had sniffed out a shoe from the cleaning room and was enjoying a

game of fling, sniff and fetch.

‘You would never think he had no sight in those doleful eyes, would you?’ The boot boy held the shoe in triumph, and Brook sniffed around for more. ‘Dukes suffers the worse, his shoes have more teeth marks in them than lace loops.

‘He has a fondness for Dukes, and with Brook’s sense of smell, all items are in danger. It is a good thing, Dukes holds a placid nature. Even Mr Arlington has taken to Brook. I found him playing a tugging game with an old sack the morning last. He was most embarrassed to be found larking about the yard.’ Maggie manoeuvred Brook into the makeshift pen that had been erected for him. During the night he had a cosy kennel inside the locked barn. He had entered the heart of everyone in the house with his mischievous ways.

‘He will miss this place when you return to the farm, Maggie.’ The boy had settled down to his boot shine and Maggie sat shelling broad beans for cook. She liked to sit in the cool air, if she did not her return to the farm would be a hard one. She could not stay by a fire every day like she could at the present time, should she choose to do so. A lady’s life was not for Maggie Sawbury.

‘We will both miss the place, Will. I for one have been treated like a princess these past months. My husband came yesterday to remind me I have only three weeks left here, and I have to get back to my old life.’ Maggie dreaded the thought of returning, but knew she had no choice.

Jacob had made it quite clear during his visit her duty lay with him and the farm. She told him if all was running to his favour at Windtop, why should she rush back. He had no need for her anymore. The venom in his voice was enough to make her agree to return. The fact that he did not want to be made a fool of in front of the village, should be reason enough for her to understand. She could continue to attend to the boy but she was to live at Windtop. If she chose to disobey, he would create problems for her and embarrass her present employers.

She tried the money tactic again, but it no longer worked. She was desperate for ideas to make him change his mind. Her time with Nathaniel was now more precious than ever he was growing and she did not want to miss one moment of his life. Alice Summers had become tearful at times. She said it was worry about Maggie, and selfish pity. She would be losing a friend and companion. Now Maggie was no longer dependent upon a stick, they took long walks with the perambulator. They had an easy going friendship, one that slipped into a niche all of its own. Their evenings were spent stitching for the baby, and chatting about various subjects. Both avoided their past childhood although this was their common ground.  They had both opened up their hearts to each other and then the subject was closed. No further words were needed only trust and support.

During one feeding session, Nathaniel looked up and smiled at Maggie. The action created a moment of joy and a moment of sadness.

‘Oh look, he is smiling at you, Maggie.’ Alice clapped her hands with delight. ‘You have seen his first smile, how exciting.’ She walked over to the baby sitting propped on Maggie’s lap. ‘You clever boy, you save your first smile for a special lady.’

Maggie made an effort to smile and show her delight, but inside she thought of the many firsts she would never see. She had a plan that would help her spend more time with him for her last few weeks. She persuaded Mrs Arlington to allow Alice the room she was sleeping in, she suggested it would make life easier if she slept in the nursery. She explained that when Nathaniel awoke in the night for a feed, Alice had to tiptoe to her room to fetch her. It seemed silly for the pair of them to have disturbed nights.

The first night they exchanged rooms, Maggie sat and looked around the nursery. She saw it with new eyes. Had his siblings lived, they would never have had the luxury Nathaniel enjoyed. A beautiful carved rocking horse sat in one corner. A large blue and white carved wood yacht in another. His crib had a counterpane of navy blue and white, it matched the curtains and many other accessories. Many of his clothes were made by a family tailor, and his most recent outfit, a blue velvet frock and coat, had his initials embroidered on the lapel and chest. Maggie looked at the outfit. She traced her fingers over the initials. She pulled back her finger as if it had been burned, NA, they should have been his true ones. Nathaniel Arlington, Nathaniel Avenell, he was always meant to have the initials he would now carry for life.

That night she thought back to the secret meetings with Stephen. Innocent kisses in meadow corners. His promises that they would be together regardless of her marriage when his father died. Her mind drifted back to the night Nathaniel was conceived.

*** December and New Year’s Eve 1855

Windtop had received an invitation to the squire’s New Year staff dance. Every year two farms were selected for the Christmas or New Year event. The last evening of the year 1855 was to be their turn. Jacob strutted around the farm, declaring all staff were to know how to dance; they were to wear freshly washed clothes and drink as much of the squire’s liqueur as they could. Any member of staff still sober after being given the gift of drinking the rich dry deserved extra duties upon the farm.

Maggie cringed. He was such an embarrassment, and she warned the farmhands to be careful about drinking too much, if they wanted to keep their jobs. Those too drunk to rise in the morning would inflict extra work on her and Lizzie, something she would hold against them at meal times.

The money in the salt pot was called upon to buy Jacob a new outfit. There was no mention of her having a new one. Unbeknown to him, the chimney still hid her few secret coins. A small nook had a smaller salt pot that housed her savings. It had been her intention to use the money on new items for the home. She decided new outfits for her and Lizzie was in order. The dance was a special event. She would make do and mend in the home.

Both women wanted to get the most from their new clothes. One fancy gown would never be worn after that one night, until the next winter event. A skirt, blouse and shawl would come in useful throughout the year. A basic design was agreed upon, and what colour was the topic of many conversations. A visit to Diss market was called for, and even Jacob joined in with the shopping trip.

He selected a new stiff, stand up collar, waistcoat, trousers, jacket and a length of fabric in blues and greens. Maggie was to make him a neck scarf and matching kerchief. He took his boots to the cobbler for new heels and soles. He gave Maggie a sixpence.

‘If you sit in a corner at the dance, the only thing on view will be your heads. I am not going to spend good money on clothes for the two of you. I am the important one, the master of Windtop. It is my outfit that should reflect that fact. It is my presence the squire will seek, not yours.’ When he had paid for his purchases, he turned back to them both.

‘I have business to carry out, and it will take some hours. You can walk home when you have finished here.’ He pointed to the parcels the tailor had wrapped for him. ‘You can take those with you. I do not need clutter around me today.’

Maggie was angry with his thoughtless ways. He had left them to carry his parcels, plus their own. She watched as he strutted out of the shop and turned to Lizzie.

‘That man is so selfish. I could swing for him at times. It is going to be a struggle home, but if we want new clothes too, we have to cope. At least we have each other to lighten the load. Come on; let’s not allow
Sour Face
to ruin our day. He thinks I am going to have a new ribbon? He can think again.’

A small hunchbacked woman sat by a haberdashery stall. She was trimming an amber gown with a brown braid. Her fingers moved swiftly. The women stood and watched for a few moments.

Lizzie said wistfully: ‘That is a beautiful dress, Maggie. Our clothes are dull in comparison.’ Maggie agreed.

‘It must be wonderful to be able to wear gowns like that every day.’ She turned to the woman, ‘You have made a fine job, mistress. I wish my fingers were as nimble. I can make a basic gown but this is so intricate.’

The woman looked to them both, and gave a toothless grin. ‘Bless you girls. I have not made this. I am repairing and redecorating it for the stall. I have been fortunate to have a fine collection of ladies wear, and this is one of them.’

She shook out the gown and held it up in front of Lizzie. Amber, gold, cream and brown colours were woven throughout the dress. It was printed wool with a print of pine cones. They started from the hem in large patterns and filtered up to the neckline with minute images. It had a full skirt with a boned bodice and long cuffed sleeves. ‘It is yours for a good price.’

‘It is certainly your colouring, Lizzie. With a cream lace cap, shawl and your new brown lace boots it would be perfect for the New Year’s party.’

‘But we agreed. Separate items in practical colours. No fancy gowns.’ Lizzie ran her hands lovingly over the gown.

‘How much for this, this and this?’Maggie held up the gown, a cap and shawl. The shawl had large flowers in contrasting colours.

The woman gave her a price for the ensemble, and then they haggled and eventually agreed a price that suited them both. Lizzie was delighted.

‘I have an outfit that would suit you greatly, should you be buying too.’ The seamstress spoke to Maggie. She pulled out a box from under her table. She cleared a pile of fabric swatches that lay on the top of the gown, and Maggie could see immediately the colour appealed to her. The outfit consisted of a boned, front laced bodice, full skirt in fine woven wool. It was a soft dusky pink, with darker shades of pink and grey leaf tendril patterns woven at random intervals. It had vertical pleats over the bust and fashionable bell shaped sleeves. It was piped with dark dusky pink and grey binding. A shawl in plain pink with fringing completed the outfit. It was perfect.

‘Lizzie, it is beautiful. Look how it hangs.’

‘It is a little beauty that’s for sure, gal. Go on, treat yourself. How often do you?’ Lizzie encouraged. ‘The colours are meant for you.’

 Maggie knew she had to buy it. The gown would haunt her if she did not. Again she haggled the price. It was lower than she was prepared to spend, so she treated herself to a pair of satin slippers. They were ivory, with square toes, each bearing a silk pink rose.

‘I know they are impractical, but I just have to buy them. I earned them fair and square.’

‘You have that, gal. If it were me, I would buy them. Go on, as I say, treat thyself.’

Both women were excited by the prospect of wearing their new outfits for such a special occasion. Although their parcels were heavy, they did not complain despite knowing the journey home to be a long one.

A short distance out of town, a carriage passed them by, going in the opposite direction. Maggie saw the face of Stephen looking back at her. He doffed his cap, and she nodded her head in recognition. Her mind went back to a recent meeting. Maggie had denied Stephen any more kisses and informed him their relationship must come to an end. Each time he had tried to approach her in the village she walked in the opposite direction.