The Lady's Maid (44 page)

Kate glanced down at her shabby, much-darned gown. ‘I can’t go anywhere like this.’ She frowned as the practicalities of their situation became clear to her. ‘Josie has only the clothes she is wearing. She left everything behind when she ran away to join the gypsies.’

‘Don’t worry, my dear. I may not have had the advantage of being a married man, but I realised last night that you travelled very light. Harry told me that he planned to visit Damerell Manor to tell the family that Josie was safe and well, and I suggested that he might ask the Dowager Lady Damerell to instruct a servant to pack a few things and send them here.’

‘You think of everything, John.’

‘It comes with the job, Kate. A country parson has to deal not only in the spiritual side of things but also in the practical.’

First thing next morning Smith, the coachman from Damerell Manor, arrived bringing with him a large brass-bound cabin trunk filled with Josie’s belongings. It took the combined efforts of Hester, Mrs Trevett and the stable boy to heave, push and pull it upstairs to Kate’s room. Since Josie declared no interest in what
she
would wear that day or any other until Sam returned from the dead, Kate unpacked the garments and put them away in the antique clothes press which stood in the corner of her own room. She set aside one of Josie’s less ornate gowns in a fresh cotton print, but when she asked if she might borrow it Josie turned her face away telling her she could have the whole lot if only she would leave her to mourn in peace. Kate’s patience was tested to the limit. She felt like shaking Josie and telling her to pull herself together but instead she walked away, leaving her to wallow in self pity.

John had sent for Dr Drage, and when he finally came, explaining that he had been attending an urgent case, he examined Josie, agreeing that a mild sedative was probably the most efficacious form of treatment for her at this particular time. He sniffed the bottle of elixir that Dena had made up and tasted it, nodding his head. ‘This herbal brew won’t harm her, and if it is doing her good I see no reason to prescribe laudanum, which can become quite addictive in this type of case.’

‘She is naturally very upset,’ Kate said. ‘She feels things deeply, but she will recover soon, I hope.’

He sucked in his cheeks, shaking his head. ‘I have seen young ladies simply turn their faces to the wall and pine away for a lost love. We don’t want that to happen to Miss Damerell. Even the strongest amongst us can collapse under severe emotional strain. Keep her quiet and sedated and let nature do the rest.’

‘Don’t worry, David,’ John said, showing him to the door. ‘Miss Damerell will receive the best care possible.’

Kate was suddenly anxious as feelings of guilt assailed her. She had been impatient with Josie when she should have shown more understanding. ‘Maybe we should postpone our visit to your brother’s house, John? I think I ought to stay with Josie.’

‘I don’t think that’s necessary. Molly can sit with her in our absence. After all, it is her brother who is presumed drowned, although she seems to be taking it extremely well.’

Kate said nothing, but she knew that Molly’s apparent lack of concern was due to the fact that she steadfastly refused to believe that Sam was dead. Kate could only hope that she was right.

When it was put to her, Molly was only too happy to sit with Josie, leaving Kate and John free to visit the Hardy family home. Kate rushed up to her room to change out of her workaday clothes. The print gown fitted as though it had been made for her, and she borrowed one of Josie’s straw bonnets trimmed with pink satin ribbons. Draping a lacy shawl crocheted from the finest lambswool around her shoulders, she hurried downstairs to find Mrs Trevett standing by the open front door, arms folded and lips set in a thin line. ‘The Reverend is waiting for you,’ she said, bristling with disapproval.

Kate murmured her thanks and ran down the path to where John was waiting beside the gig. She was not certain whether she was shaking from terror or excitement at the prospect of meeting Sir Philip and his wife, but she had a feeling that something momentous was about to happen. She knew she was smiling
like
an idiot, but it was almost impossible to remain calm. One look at Mrs Trevett, who was standing in the doorway, glaring at them, was enough to bring her back to earth with a bump.

‘I’m sure that your housekeeper thinks there is something going on between us, John.’

He helped her into the vehicle. ‘Mary has been with me for so long that she thinks she owns me, but she means well.’ He climbed up to sit beside her and flicked the reins.

Kate clutched the side of the gig as it swayed into motion. ‘I’m sure she does, and I don’t blame her for being protective towards you, but I’d rather we kept this to ourselves, John. If Puddlecombe is anything like Kingston Damerell, rumours spread faster than a heath fire.’

‘Don’t worry, Kate. We’ll tell everyone when we are good and ready.’

She sat in silence while he drove through the village, tipping his hat to his parishioners and greeting them cheerfully. She could see that he was a popular priest and much respected, and a warm feeling of belonging enveloped her. A playful breeze tugged at the ribbons on her bonnet and the azure sky above them was cloudless. The fields were filled with ripening corn and Kate breathed in the plum-pudding scent of the damp earth beneath the green hedgerows. It was a glorious summer day and she felt as though her life was just beginning. John was convinced that she was his flesh and blood, but much depended on how she was received by the head of the family.

‘We’re here,’ he said, as he reined in the horse and the gig ground to a halt outside a pair of tall wrought-iron gates. Peering through them she could see a long avenue leading up to an imposing building. The gatekeeper emerged from his cottage and unlocked the great iron gates, waving them through with a respectful bow.

The parkland seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see and beyond. Deer grazed beneath stalwart oaks and Kate caught a glimpse of formal gardens through a topiary arch at the side of the Jacobean mansion. ‘This is your family home?’

John turned to look at her and he smiled. ‘Our family home, my dear. In a few moments I will introduce you to Philip and Marjorie, and I hope that we will get some answers to our questions.’

Kate was even more nervous and slightly overwhelmed as they entered the great house. So much depended upon what she would learn from Sir Philip and Lady Hardy. Her whole future was hanging in the balance. Would she emerge as Kate Hardy or Miss Nobody?

Seeming to sense her anxiety, John slipped her hand through the crook of his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. ‘Chin up, my dear. They won’t bite.’

She twisted her lips into a smile, but she really did feel as though she were entering the lion’s den as she stepped into the oak-panelled entrance hall. But despite the grandeur of its architecture, she was surprised to find that the mansion had a warm and welcoming atmosphere. The great fireplace, which in winter would
greet
visitors with a welcoming blaze, was partly concealed by a needlepoint fire screen. Copper pots filled with roses, delphiniums and lilies made bright splashes of colour against the dark oak panelling. Highly polished suits of armour stood guard at the foot of the staircase, but even they had a benign appearance. Crossed swords and shields decorated the wall above the fireplace and portraits of long dead ancestors stared at Kate from gilded frames.

Their feet echoed on the darkly gleaming floorboards as the butler showed them into the drawing room. A Great Dane lumbered towards them, sniffing at John’s hands, obviously recognising a friend, and Sir Philip rose from his seat by the carved stone fireplace. ‘John, this is a pleasant surprise, and I see you’ve brought a guest with you.’

Sir Philip Hardy was so like his brother that they might have been twins. Kate took an instant liking to him, although she was not quite so certain about his wife. Marjorie Hardy was reserved to say the least. When Kate had been formally introduced and the usual civilities exchanged, John explained the reason for their visit. Sir Philip seemed stunned at first and then shocked. Lady Hardy appeared unconvinced. ‘It seems that there are far too many coincidences,’ she said, eyeing Kate with unconcealed suspicion. ‘And poor dear Clara died of consumption in a Swiss sanatorium, so I am afraid you must have been misled, young lady.’

‘Did she, though?’ John turned to his brother. ‘I wasn’t here when Clara was sent away, but you were, Philip. Did she go to Switzerland?’

‘Of course she did, John,’ Lady Hardy said hastily, before her husband could open his mouth. She gave Kate a penetrating stare. ‘Have you any proof of your identity?’

Kate took off her mother’s engagement ring and handed it to her. ‘No, ma’am. I only have this ring, which the Romany woman gave me just a short while ago. She told me that my mother had asked her to keep it safe for me.’

‘Huh! A likely story coming from a gypsy. If it is Clara’s ring, then it was probably stolen and the whole tale fabricated to extract money from us.’

‘Let me see the ring, my dear,’ Sir Philip said, holding out his hand. ‘If this is Clara’s ring, it was a family heirloom made for Alexander’s grandmother, Lavinia, and I seem to remember that it was engraved with her initials.’

Lady Hardy squinted at the inside of the ring. ‘I cannot see anything other than a hallmark, Philip. I think the whole story is a farrago of lies.’ She tossed the ring at him and he caught it deftly in one hand.

‘My eyesight isn’t what it was, but I’m sure I can make out the initials,’ he said, holding the ring up to the light. ‘This certainly looks like poor Clara’s engagement ring.’

‘But it could have been stolen,’ Lady Hardy insisted. ‘You men are so easily deceived, and it doesn’t alter that fact that Clara was mortally ill. It’s insulting to the dear girl’s memory to suspect that she had had an illicit liaison with Alexander and bore a child out of wedlock, quite unthinkable in a girl of her breeding.’

Kate dug her fingernails into her palms, holding her tongue with difficulty, but John laid his hand on hers with an encouraging smile. ‘Don’t be upset, my dear. We will get to the bottom of this, and I think Philip holds the key.’

‘I’m afraid it’s true, Marjorie,’ Sir Philip said with a sigh. ‘Clara and Alexander were engaged to be married and then that trouble broke out in the Crimea. As Alex was a serving officer it was inevitable that he would be called upon to fight. They wanted to bring the wedding forward but Papa put his foot down and forbade it. He said that he didn’t want his only daughter widowed before she was twenty, and so Alexander had no choice but to leave for the Crimea with his regiment. I’ll never forget the day when the news of his death in battle reached us. Poor Clara was beside herself with grief. She was so distraught, we feared she might lose her mind. She took to her bed and the doctor was sent for. He told our parents that Clara was with child.’

‘Philip!’ Lady Hardy exclaimed angrily. ‘How could you have kept this from me for all these years? How could you allow me to go on believing that Clara died of consumption?’

‘I’m sorry, my dear, but my parents were as one in their decision that the birth must be concealed from the world. They knew that no man of any consequence would want to marry Clara when they learned of her disgrace. They decided that she must be sent away, and the child, when born, should be adopted by some respectable family whose silence could be bought.’

John stared as his brother in disbelief. ‘And you even kept it from me?’

‘You were at Oxford, John. You were sitting your finals and Papa did not want to involve you, especially in view of your chosen profession. I wasn’t consulted in the matter.’

‘I understand, old chap. But how did Clara come to be wandering about alone, at night and exposed to the elements? If it hadn’t been for the Romany women, she would have given birth on that hillside with no one to help her. Kate would have died too in all probability.’

‘And the sad story would have also died,’ Lady Hardy said acidly. ‘Now it will all come to light and the scandal will be terrible. I won’t have my children suffer for what Clara did all those years ago.’

‘My dear, you’re over-reacting,’ Sir Philip said mildly. ‘Helena and James will be delighted to discover they have a cousin.’

‘You fool,’ Lady Hardy hissed. ‘Do you think that anyone of note will want their sons and daughters to marry into our family if word of Clara’s fall from grace comes to light?’

Kate could stand it no longer. She leapt to her feet and faced them all with her hands clenched at her sides. ‘Shame on you. Have you no thought for the poor young woman who was turned out by her family and died in that lonely place? What must she have suffered?’

‘Believe me, Kate, if I had known any of this the outcome would have been different.’ John’s voice
cracked
with emotion. ‘I loved Clara; she was the dearest, sweetest sister any man could have. I would have left Oxford and forsworn the Church if it had meant that I could care for Clara and her child.’

‘And I tried to find her,’ Sir Philip added hastily. ‘Clara was sent to stay with her old governess in a village near Weymouth, and arrangements were made for her child to be adopted. Then I received a letter from her, shortly before she disappeared. She begged me to come for her and to find her a cottage or lodgings where she could have her baby and keep it. Alas, I didn’t receive the letter until it was too late. I rode to Upwey where the governess lived, but she said that Clara had gone missing the previous day. She had sent men out to look for her without any luck. I too scoured the countryside, but in the end I had to return empty-handed. It seemed that Clara had vanished into thin air.’

‘No,’ Kate said slowly. ‘She died giving birth to me and is buried somewhere on a cold, lonely hilltop without anything to mark her grave; only the gypsies know for certain where she lies. I don’t know how you can live with yourself, Sir Philip. You stood by and allowed your family to crucify my mother and her only crime was that of loving the man she intended to marry. I’m ashamed to be part of this family. I would rather be plain Kate Coggins than be accepted by those who treated my mother so cruelly.’