Maggie's Child (5 page)

‘Ah, the lady of the house is upset. Cannot abide the thought another woman finds her husband desirable,’ Jacob taunted. ‘Well madam, just for that look, I will not grace you with my presence. Or mayhap I shall return, however the mood takes me.’

Maggie held her tongue. It was best she did not say a word. In an unrushed manner, she collected his clean boots and jacket from the small hallway between the kitchen and the stairs. She sighed, he was hard work and she only desired peace. A quiet evening was very welcome, the sooner he left the better. If he drank plenty, he would not come home to her as he had hinted. When he was ready to leave, she thought of another way of keeping him at bay.

‘Oh, I nearly forgot. I sold several jams and jellies yesterday. There’s a copper or two left in the tin. I will not need it for stores this week, so why not take them. Treat yourself and enjoy a brandy tonight? It hasn’t been pleasant for you losing this baby either. It was another daughter by the way. A dear little girl. She had your features.’ Maggie used soft tones to bring on a melancholy mood. Her husband enjoyed being centre of attention, so if he could add layers to his sad story he would.

‘Another daughter gone? Looked like me, you say? Get the tin down, I deserve a drink for the shock of it all.’ He held out his hand and she placed four coins in his palm.

He took her by surprise when he closed his fingers around hers and squeezed them. A glazed looked came over his face. Maggie didn’t move, and wondered if he was considering her, or if thoughts of his first wife had emerged. The only woman he had loved, so she’d found out through one of his drunken speeches.

Roughly, he shook her hand away, and left the room. The twilight shadows moved across the yard as he walked by the window. He glanced in and sneered. It made her shiver. Maggie moved away and tried to shake off his image. She lit a candle and the warm glow added a pleasant ambiance. She collected stockings and flannels for repair. An evening sat mending would relax her. Now was her time to mourn.

Chapter 4

‘Get your lazy backside out of bed. I’m home and want food.’

Jacob dragged the covers from around Maggie. Dazed and trying to focus in the darkness of the room, she took a few seconds to compose herself.

She shivered as the damp, cool air assaulted her body. A mix of fear and chill were in the shiver.

‘Jacob. What hour is it?’She clambered out of bed and winced as her feet touched the cold floor.

‘What hour?’ His voice tormented in a whining mockery. ‘You need the time? Time you fed your husband, woman.’ Jacob stood swaying at the end of the bed. Maggie realised he was drunk and forgotten his threat to stay out all night. He was at his most dangerous now.

She pulled on her loose outer gown, grabbed a cap and pushed her hair into it. There was no point trying to pacify him in this state. She knew she had no choice but to feed him.

‘Of course, you are hungry. It is a long walk home from the village. Let me get the skillet hot and fix you a feast.’ She chatted all the time she dressed and walked past him. She prayed he wouldn’t grab at her. She was still tender from her delivery and could not risk him forcing himself upon her.

‘I’ve got just the thing for a hungry man. Fresh bacon. Thick slices,’ she chattered as she walked out of the door.

‘Stop yarning about it woman, get and cook it,’ Jacob demanded.

He followed her down the stairs she could sense him behind her as they entered the kitchen. Maggie embraced its warmth and Jacob staggered to the chair closest to the fire. Maggie always ensured the fire was kept burning, although in the summer months it could make the room too hot. Often they had to attend to animals experiencing difficult labours, and hot water was always called for during these times. Tonight she was thankful she kept the hearth alive. The darkness outside indicated that dawn hadn’t broken through, and a wind whistled under the door. The warm room made the early rise bearable.

She busied herself cutting chunks of bacon and bread. The skillet spat and smoked in the hearth. Wary all the time of keeping Jacob out of arms reach and in a buoyant mood. Maggie laid out the skillet with his food. She smiled as she handed Jacob a mug with a generous measure of warm preserving cider. It was bitter, but he did not seem to mind.

‘Mm, there is something special about bacon when it is cooking. Do you not agree, husband?’ Maggie kept up the pretence of being happy to cook for him in the wee small hours.

‘Stop your chattering and just cook it woman, didn’t I just tell you.’ Jacob took a swig from the mug and sat staring into the glowing embers. Desperate not to antagonise him any further, Maggie rushed through the cooking process.

‘Well, here you are then. Enjoy your supper.’ She placed a plate of bacon, egg and fresh bread onto the table.

She sat in her seat and watched as he rose from his chair. He staggered to the table, slumped into the chair and bit into his food. Egg yolk dribbled from the left corner of his mouth. She could not stand to look anymore.

‘I have to go to the market tomorrow so I might as well make a batch of scones to sell; now I am awake.’ She rose from the table. He enjoyed her scones so would never prevent her from baking them. Therefore, it was not surprising his next words startled her.

‘Sit down. Stay where you are. There is something we need to discuss. What I mean is I have something to say. Sit and listen.’ Jacob spat out the words along with crumbs and her stomach churned.

Oh, my dear God. Please let it be about the farm and not babies and bedroom activities.

She sat quietly while he finished his meal. Her eyes felt heavy as she watched him go through the usual eating routine; wiping the plate clean with his bread, belching and dragging his mouth clean on the back of his shirtsleeve.

‘There’s word in the village. I heard it in the Key’s tonight.’ He sat upright; the food appeared to have sobered him somewhat. His face was alcohol tinged and his nose became red and mottled His eyes - although pink - were steady and focused on hers.

‘Word? What sort of word?’Maggie was unnerved and shuffled in her seat.

‘Word has it a baby has been found. That Arlington woman and her flimsy brother found it along the road to Wortham Ling. Thrown naked into a bush, it was. Cruel, to treat a babe in that way.’

He threw back his head and downed the rest of the mug contents. Maggie sat stiffly in the seat. Her hands gripped the sides. She dared not to speak. She wanted to yell that the baby had been left by a broken-hearted mother, not naked and thrown into the hedge, but gently placed. She wanted to scream out he was the cruel one, and if he was not such a cruel man, their child would be in her arms at that moment. Had he been a better man, she may have not suffered the loss of baby number three. The kick in the stomach he gave her had ended that poor child’s life.

She also knew if he were a better man, she would never have broken her marriage vows by having an affair with the Squire’s son. Nathaniel would never have been born, and she would be asleep in her bed with a clear conscience. How dare he spout off about cruel people?

Knowing she could say none of those things, Maggie gripped the edge of the chair so hard her fingers ached. She willed him with every breath to finish his rant as swiftly as he had started. Eventually she found her voice and encouraged Jacob to tell her more.

‘How dreadful. W-was it alive? You said it had been thrown into the bush.’ She knew it was a fanciful tale embellished to make the story more exciting. Only she knew the truth.

‘Alive and screaming the village down, by all accounts. Could be heard all the way in Wortham. Unlucky mite has been landed with the Bible spouting pious Arlington family. From what they say, he’s going to stay there until they have found his family, mainly his mother; she has to answer for her actions. I told ‘em. Family? They do not deserve a baby. I had just lost my own daughter; my heart was broken for the child. Generous, them folks were. Sent their condolences to you. Brandies for me. Good folk.’ He put his arms on the table and used them as a pillow for his head. He gave a small snort.

Maggie wanted to laugh. She suppressed the urge. If she did, it would earn her a good hiding. His favourite pastime was to belittle and vent his dislike for the villagers, especially those with more money and land than he had. Only those who put coins his way were a priority in his life. Brandy talk had taken over and he was spouting nonsense. Maggie needed to end the conversation. She was tired and wary of Jacob in his drunken state. He continued to eat, slurping down the food and washed it down with warm cider. ‘That was generous of them, you are right. So it was a little boy then? The Arlingtons are good people, Jacob. They will care for him, I am sure. How old is he?’ She yawned and longed for sleep. She hoped Jacob would slump sooner rather than later.

‘Eh?’Jacob looked up from the table. ‘Newborn, ‘twas a newborn. Which reminds me? Tomorrow forget the market and get yourself down to the Arlington house. They are expecting you.’ He put his head back in his arms.

‘I beg your pardon?’A chill ran through her body and Maggie felt faint with what might be coming next. Had they guessed?

‘Wet nurse. They need a wet nurse.’ Muffled words hit Maggie like a herd of cattle.

‘I beg your pardon? They need a what?’ Maggie was stunned by his words.

‘Titties, teats, whatever you want to call them. They need yours and I said if they pay the price, they could have them. Mind, I told them it had to fit in around your farm work. Not having slacking off from my wife. No sir, I told them, my Maggie will have milk-a-flowing having just lost our girl. If she can help the boy, she will. And so you will, madam. Oh, you will. The purse is full and will remain so while those do their job.’ He pointed towards her breasts and rose from the table. He pushed back his chair with and went to her end of the table. 

Maggie turned to look up at him. She trembled. He stared down at her, daring her to defy him with his demand.

‘You mean I have to feed a strange baby? You want me to feed another woman’s child?’ Maggie could barely speak. Of all the coincidences in the world, she should fall into this one.

 Her breasts had been sore all day. Maggie had bound them earlier to delay the flow. Now she was to have his blessing and feed her own son. It truly was laughable

 She jumped when he banged his hand on the table. Her nerves were on edge and she was tired. His words amazed her. He would never know it was the first time she had ever felt grateful to him since he took her away from her parents.

‘You will do as I say. Do you hear me? Morning and night, every day you will feed that child. You will not disgrace me and let me down. I gave my word to their man you would be there at the start of the day. None of your lazy backchat, do you hear?’

Maggie responded carefully.

‘I apologise. I am tired and you have surprised me, husband. If you say I must, then I must. Very well. Now I must get some sleep. I will need some if I am to be in fine feeding form for the Arlington family.’ Her voice held a touch of sarcasm but not enough to make him angry. Just a touch to make it sound as if she was put out, and it was to be a chore.

‘I’m done in myself. We will turn in and talk some more in the morning. No, in fact there will be no more talking. You will do as you are told or there will be a lesson from my belt for you.’ Jacob left the room and Maggie listened out as he banged around above her. She curled up on her comfortable chair and pulled a blanket over her body. The snores from upstairs gave her the opportunity to stay in the warmth, with the wonder of the conversation they had just had, going through her mind.

In a few hours, she would see her son. Once again, she would hold him in her arms. She closed her eyes, thanked God and drifted into a comfortable sleep.

Chapter 5

Weak rays of sunlight worked their way into the room and touched her face. Maggie stretched her body. Her back ached and she would have given anything for a few more hours of sleep. She glanced over at the table. There sat the dirty plate from the meal she had cooked Jacob four hours previously. It had not been a dream.

Wearily she rose from the chair and slipped outside to the water pump. The cold air indicated autumn was well and truly set. Her chores would become harder and the daylight hours would fade into darkness much quicker. She did not need more work or to be away from the farm for hours on end. Maggie vowed she would find a way to make her workload fit in with feeding Nathaniel. Her stomach flipped at the thought. When the water jug was full, she returned with a second. She knew she was clean from the previous day, but she wanted to deal with the chickens and cows before she left the farm. She was not going to arrive at the Arlington’s smelling like one of their animals. She crushed sage leaves rubbed them through her hair. She prided herself on her healthy teeth and rubbed a few leaves to clean them.  For some reason thoughts of her mother came to her. The only gift her mother ever gave her was the knowledge of herbs, recipes handed down from her own. Maggie shuddered at the sudden memory of her mother. A woman she had never disliked so much in her life. Had she been a nicer person, someone Maggie could love, she would have taken Nathaniel to her. However, it was not meant to be and she suppressed all melancholy thoughts and concentrated upon the task ahead. Her mother was not going to ruin this day.

She looked up at the sky. No rain threatened which was a blessing, since the walk into Redgrave village was a long one. Maggie realised there was a way she could save time. If she moved quickly, she could leave with the others on the cart bound for Diss market. She tidied around the kitchen and untied her pinafore, as she folded it away her husband entered the room.

‘I’m starving,’ Jacob grumbled.

There was no greeting, no morning kiss, just a blunt statement about his stomach and the unsavoury scratching of body parts. Maggie had already set his place and poured his tea into a large mug. She stirred vigorously and the spoon clanged against the tin.