Mr Cavell's Diamond (12 page)

Henry frowned.
‘Is that your new gown? What happened to it?’

‘
The new girl was letting it out. What a mess she made of it – I told you we should dismiss her.’

‘
Was it not made to the right measurements? It cost a pretty penny – I shall go back to Miss Paine and complain.’

‘
Look at me!’ Caroline screamed. She turned to face Henry and pulled her skirts tight across her belly. Henry gasped. The bump was unmistakeable.

‘
That’s why the gown didn’t fit!’ She lowered her head and looked up at Henry through her eyelashes. ‘I am carrying your child.’

‘
Wha… why didn’t you say?’

‘
I don’t know.’ She sniffed. ‘I suppose I was waiting for the right moment to tell you.’

‘
And
this
is the right moment?’ Henry shook his head in disbelief. ‘When will the baby arrive?’

‘
In the autumn,’ said Caroline.

Henry calculated quickly in his head.
‘September, it must be. Or early October. We have been apart since early January.’

‘
Yes, it is due then,’ she said. Her voice softened. ‘Henry, can we be friends again? Quarrelling like this is not good for – our child.’

‘
I do not forgive you for what you did to Sultan,’ he replied. ‘But I will not do anything to harm you or the baby. You should go upstairs now, and rest. I will join you for dinner.’

Caroline smiled her lop-sided smile, and left the room. Henry sat down hard on the chair nearest Sultan and gently fondled the dog’s ears.

‘Well, boy, that’s something more to ponder on,’ he said. ‘A baby,
my
baby, on its way in just three months or so.’

He would be a father – a proper father to his own child rather than to an adopted one. Much as he loved
Frances there was something missing. He’d not had the chance to hold her as a tiny newborn, or witness her first smile, first steps or first words. He’d looked forward to those moments when Caroline was pregnant with the baby she’d lost soon after they married. Franny had filled the gap to some extent but when no more babies had come along in the last two years Henry had felt disappointed, cheated even. That, and his growing realisation that Caroline was not the soul-mate he’d always hoped to find, and his increasing regret that a moment’s indiscretion up on Cissbury Ring had left him tied for life to a woman he no longer loved, had already tainted his marriage. And what she’d done to Sultan made him despise her. Was that too strong a word? No, he thought not. But how could he despise the woman who was carrying his child?

He would have to learn not to despise her. Learn to love her once again
, if that was possible. He’d loved her once, hadn’t he? Or had that ever been love? He had certainly never felt for Caroline the way he now felt for Jemima.

‘
What am I going to do, hmm, old boy?’ he whispered. Sultan licked his fingers as though in sympathy. ‘Are you hungry? Ready to eat something now?’ He cut off another sliver of cheese and offered it to the dog. This time Sultan took it and sniffed around for more. ‘That’s better, boy. Must keep your strength up, hey? Let’s see what else I can find.’

He got up and began searching the kitchen for more food. In the pantry he found a boiled ham, and cut a few small chunks from it. He poured more milk into the bowl Jemima had been using and put both ham and milk within reach of Sultan. The dog struggled to prop himself up and managed to lap from the bowl and eat the ham from the floor. He gave a couple of wags of his tail before flopping back down on the blanket.

Henry smiled with pleasure and gently stroked Sultan’s head. ‘Good boy.’

‘
Sir, is he eating now?’

Henry turned, startled, to see Jemima at the door, her hair loose and a shawl clutched around her shoulders. He noticed for the first time how glossy brown her hair was, and how it had a natural wave which complemented her delicate heart-shaped face.

‘Jemima! I thought you were resting. Yes, he has had a little cheese, ham and milk. I think he is improving.’

‘
Ham, sir? The ham in the pantry was for your and the mistress’s dinner. No matter. I am glad he is eating. Tis a good sign. Shall I tend to him now?’

‘
Only if you feel you are well enough rested. Don’t make yourself ill.’

‘
No sir, I won’t. Do you think he will eat more? I will scramble some eggs for him, I think. Tis what tempted you to eat when you were sick.’

‘
I remember.’ Henry smiled at the recollection. Yes, Jemima had cared for him with the same tenderness and concern as she had for Sultan now. Why had he not noticed that at the time?

Jemima smiled over her shoulder at him while she beat some eggs in a bowl, and put a pan to heat on the range. Henry felt so comfortable sitting here in the kitchen in Jemima’s company while she worked. It felt so right. An image flashed in front of his eyes – Jemima pregnant with his child, other children playing at his feet, an elderly Sultan resting by the fire. Heaven on earth. But his thoughts quickly returned to the present, to Caroline and her startling news.

‘Jemima, you know, I think, that my wife is expecting a baby?’

Jemima stopped beating her eggs and turned towards him.
‘Yes, sir, I did know. The mistress asked me not to say to you. I am glad she has told you now. It is good news.’

‘
Yes, it is.’ Henry rested his elbows on his knees and let his head hang. ‘Yes, good news indeed.’

‘
Franny will like to have a brother or sister,’ said Jemima.

‘
Yes. We shall employ a nursemaid.’

‘
No need, sir! I can help care for the child. I love babies, I do.’

Henry didn’t doubt it. But he guessed a newly delivered Caroline
would make a demanding mistress, and he suspected she would insist on a nursemaid and probably a wet-nurse as well. There would be difficult times ahead.

Chapter 10 – October 1831

Jemima

The mistress ha
s been talking of nothing but wanting to go to London to have the baby. For months tis all we have heard. Better doctors there, she says. Cleaner house – Maria sniffed loudly at that. More apothecaries and better medicines for if things go wrong. I think she is missing the fact that Worthing is altogether a cleaner, more healthy place to live at all times, especially if you are having a baby.

Her due date w
as at least two weeks past, best as I could figure out. The mistress won’t tell me when she think it due. ‘Oh, soon, soon,’ she says, but she won’t say how soon.

We
’ve been going on quietly here in this house since the upset back in the summer. Sultan got better bit by bit and it was a joyful day when Mr Cavell and I took him out on the beach for the first time since his accident happened. That is what we call it – his
accident
. Though we all know it was no accident.

The mistress went quiet after it. She stop
ped demanding so much and Maria and I were thankful for it. She kept to her bed half the day and the drawing room the other half. She never left the house and had no visitors.

Franny
enjoyed the summer on the beach and she got a face full of freckles, though the mistress disapproved and told me to put a bigger bonnet on the child when she was out in the sun. But I thought the little girl looked happy and healthy with the colour on her.

Mr
Cavell spent most days out and only took a quiet dinner with the mistress. He came to see us in the kitchen often, and would sit and take a cup of tea and a biscuit while Maria and I were working on the dinner. Maria says the master likes me, and she says it with a wink and a nudge, and I blush and say oh no, the master thinks I’m a good servant tis all. But I think she may be right. And I think too, that I like Mr Cavell more than I ought to. Those thoughts I have to push right down inside me for they will do no good to no person.

The midwife
Mrs Tester visited today to see the mistress, as we are all getting fidgety wondering when this baby is going to come. And now she has been and gone we are more fidgety still, because of the news she told us. 

Mrs Tester
told the mistress to strip down to her chemise and lay down on her bed. I helped the mistress undress, and stayed in the room in case I were needed. The midwife felt all round the bump, and asked a lot of questions. And then she stood up and looked the mistress in the eye, and said, ‘Madam, are you sure of your dates? For I believe you are only seven months pregnant. This baby will not be born until December, maybe not till Christmas.’

The mistress
went into a tantrum at that. She screamed and threw a cushion at the midwife and sent her out of the house, calling her a liar, a charlatan, who knew nothing.

But that midwife wait
ed on my mother when she had her last two, and she has been delivering Worthing’s babies for many a year, and if she says the baby won’t come till Christmas then I believe her. There was nothing I could do though, except show the poor woman down the stairs and out, and pay her for her trouble from the housekeeping allowance.

Mr
Cavell was waiting in the drawing room. He came out with his eyebrows raised when he heard the midwife go out, grumbling how she’d never been spoken to like that in all her twenty years experience, and there wasn’t any doubt that baby wouldn’t come afore mid-December and she’d put her life savings on it.

When she w
as gone he turned to me and asked, ‘Jemima, tell me frankly, what did the midwife say? Please don’t say I should hear it from my wife. I would like to hear it from you, whom I can trust to tell me the whole of it.’

I w
as flattered he trusted me like this, though it is a sad day when a man won’t trust his own wife. So I told him. His lips were set firm and a frown appeared on his forehead as I spoke, and when I were finished he gave a little nod and headed up the stairs to the mistress’s room.

There
were floors needed sweeping on the first floor landing so I headed up as well with a broom. And the mistress’s door was slightly ajar so I couldn’t help but hear what was said.

‘
Caroline, I am told this baby is not due until December,’ said Mr Cavell. His voice were low and careful, like he was fighting to hold it in control. ‘If that is so, then this baby is not mine, for you and I were living apart from January to July this year. Tell me, whose is it?’

‘
Oh Henry, it’s yours, of course it is,’ cried the mistress. ‘Do not doubt me, love. That ignorant woman is wrong. The baby will be born any time now.’

‘
That woman, as you call her, has had twenty years experience of midwifery. But if you would like another opinion I shall call Doctor Cloves, or perhaps another midwife…’

‘
No! I don’t want to see any more quacks here in Worthing. They’re so provincial. The doctors in London know so much more. Let me go back to London! I’ll see a doctor or a midwife there who will confirm my dates.’

I could hear Mr
Cavell pacing about the room.

‘
If your baby is due any time now as you say, then you are surely in no fit state to make the journey.’ He sounded like he wanted to spit. ‘You are far better staying here, where Jemima can look after you and we can call the midwife the moment the pains begin.’

‘
I – I believe there will be no pains for a few more days yet,’ pleaded the mistress. ‘There’s time – let me go – I could take the morning coach and be seeing a London doctor tomorrow evening…’

‘
No pains for a few days yet? A few
weeks
, I think you mean, woman. The child is not mine, is it? You have been unfaithful to me. I’ll not be made a fool of. Go back to London. At least then you’ll be out of my sight!’

There c
ame the sound of wailing and sobbing and I imagined that the mistress had flung herself at Mr Cavell’s feet.

‘
Do not treat me like this!’ she cried. ‘I swear I have not been unfaithful and when the baby comes you shall know this and be sorry.’

‘
You, madam, are the one who shall be sorry. You continue to lie to me! Pack your things now – Jemima will help you. I will book a seat on the Sovereign, which leaves at ten. You shall be on it.’

I jump
ed out of the way as Mr Cavell came bursting through the door and stomped down the stairs. I heard him call Sultan, then the front door banged. I crept downstairs to the kitchen and waited for the mistress to ring her bell for help packing.

When she d
id ring and I went up, her eyes were so red from sobbing I did feel a tiny bit sorry for her, even though she had brought this on herself. I don’t know how she can be unfaithful to such a good man as Mr Cavell, but still, she was a woman carrying a baby, and for that I would do what I could to help her. I did her packing, fetched her some chocolate and was as gentle and kind as I can be, though I don’t think she noticed it.

‘
Will Miss Frances be going to London with you, ma’am?’ I asked. ‘Should I go and pack her things too?’

‘
Franny? I don’t know. Yes, I suppose she will.’ She put the back of her hand to her forehead. ‘Your master wants rid of both of us, I should think. He is a hard, uncaring man. I pity you having to stay in this house with such a brute.’

I sa
id nothing to this, only tightened my lips, and no longer felt any pity for her. Mr Cavell be many things but never a
brute
, and it hurt me deep in my heart to hear him called so.

Franny was
playing in her nursery, making a bed for her dolly from a cushion and a shawl. When I told her she was going back to London she flung her arms around my neck and sobbed like her heart was broken.

‘
I don’t want to go, Mima,’ she said. ‘Why can’t I stay here with you and Sultan and Papa? I hate London.’

‘
Ssh,’ I said. ‘You must go with your Mama. She will need you to help her when the baby comes.’

She pick
ed up her dolly then and rocked it like a baby. ‘I suppose so. When will the baby come, Mima?’

‘
Soon, Franny, soon,’ I said, just like her Mama has done for weeks, and thought how funny it is that question is the reason for our household breaking apart.