Chaff upon the Wind (17 page)

Kneeling on the floor in front of the open bottom drawer, Kitty leaned her forehead against the cool, shiny surface and closed her eyes and groaned. Then, pulling her thoughts back to her
duties, she moved a rumpled white cotton chemise and her fingers touched something prickly beneath it. Lifting up the garment, she saw, nestling in the bottom of the drawer, buried beneath the pile
of clothes, a tiny, intricately worked corn maiden.

Now Kitty knew for sure just who was the father of Miss Miriam’s child.

High up, from the window of her room in the pointed eave, Kitty looked down upon the stackyard beyond the wall. It was silent now, all the straw neatly stacked and thatched.
Even the ground had been swept of all the wisps of straw and the chaff. It was almost as if the threshermen had never been there.

But they had. Oh yes, they had. And Threshing Jack had left not one, but two young girls in tears. Mrs Grundy, dear, wise, kind-hearted Mrs G., had warned her, but Kitty had been too foolish to
listen. Tears blurred her vision. Maybe he would come tonight. Maybe he would stand out there in the cold and draughty yard. Kitty’s mouth trembled and then she clenched her jaw, hardening
her resolve. He would wait in vain as she had done so many nights just recently.

She stiffened, suddenly realizing that he must have been with Miriam on those nights. Now she saw it. All the times when her young mistress had said she had no need of her, or that she was out
for the whole evening, it had been when Jack had never come. How stupid, how blindly naive she had been. She should have known . . .

But how could she? Kitty argued with herself. How could she ever have thought that a young lady like Miriam Franklin, born into the gentry, would allow herself to be ensnared by a man like Jack
Thorndyke? And Jack? How could
he
have been so foolish? It was playing with fire, risking his very livelihood if her father found out. He had said as much himself.

No, tonight, Jack, you’ll wait in vain. She said the words over and over in her mind for she had no wish to run down the garden and through the gate in the wall to fling herself against
him. Not now. Not now she had learned the truth about the man she had loved. Still did, if she were truthful with herself. She hated him; wanted to throw herself at him, clawing and scratching and
spitting like any wild she-cat. She felt her jaw clench. ‘Maybe I will, one day, Jack Thorndyke, ’cos I aren’t finished with you yet. Not by a long way.’ She wanted to make
him pay for what he had done, for bringing Miss Miriam into disgrace. A young, well-brought-up girl, who had probably been ignorant of what was happening to her.

Kitty sighed, feeling a sympathetic affinity with her young mistress.

They were both victims of Threshing Jack, and yet, foolish though she knew it was, Kitty could not stop herself loving him still.

‘Kitty, come in, my dear. Close the door,’ Mrs Franklin beckoned. ‘I’ve made all the arrangements for Miriam and you to go away for several months until
after the child is born. All anyone else knows is that I have insisted she go away on a Grand Tour before becoming engaged to Guy Harding.’ For a moment, there were tears in Mrs
Franklin’s fine eyes and her voice was no more than a trembling whisper. ‘It has always been my dearest wish that she and Guy should unite our families.’ She pulled in a deep
shuddering breath. ‘No one must ever know the real reason you are going away, except the three of us. I’m relying on you, Kitty.’

Knowing she was exceeding her place, nevertheless Kitty said quietly, ‘Mr Guy loves Miss Miriam. Perhaps – perhaps he would still want to marry her even if he knew.’

Mrs Franklin shook her head vehemently. ‘No, no, Kitty, believe me. Men – and particularly a man of Guy Harding’s standing – always want to marry a – a virgin. They
want their wife and the mother of their children to be pure and untouched when they marry them and completely faithful to them afterwards. But for men . . .’ a bitter, cynical note crept into
her voice, ‘it is quite acceptable that they should have affairs, be – be experienced. How I just wish sometimes . . .’ She passed her hand wearily across her forehead and
sighed.

Kitty gulped, feeling suddenly ashamed. What, then, were her chances of marriage to anyone other than with Jack and he, as he said so steadfastly, was not the marrying kind. Perhaps, she
comforted herself, it was different in Miss Miriam’s case, her being gentry. Maybe it was more important that she should have kept herself pure for her husband. Maybe in Kitty’s own
class, it didn’t matter so much.

But in her heart, Kitty knew that it did, if all the teaching her mother had instilled into her was to be believed. No one else would want her now. Not now she had given herself to Jack
Thorndyke. And besides, she thought sadly, she didn’t really want even to think of marrying anyone else but Jack. Damn him!

Arrangements moved with astonishing speed and Kitty had scarcely time to pack clothes for her mistress and herself before their trunks were being loaded on to the back of the
car for Bemmy to take to the station.

Kitty was obliged to take charge, for Miriam was red-eyed and morose, speaking to no one, refusing even to say goodbye to her brother. But not one of the staff came close to guessing the
truth.

‘Poor Miss Miriam,’ Mrs Grundy clucked sympathetically. ‘Fancy being packed off on a World Tour when all she wants is to stay and be courted and petted by her nice young
man.’

‘I think she doesn’t know how lucky she is,’ Milly piped up. ‘And as for our Kitty going with her, well, it just ain’t fair. I shall want a picture postcard from
every place you visit, our Kitty.’

Kitty bit her lip and turned her face away. Oh heck, she thought. That was one thing they hadn’t thought about. What was going to happen not only while they were away, but when they got
back? How was she to describe all the places they were supposed to have visited when she would not have been near any of them?

But Mrs Grundy, quite unwittingly, came to her rescue. ‘Kitty won’t have time for gallivanting, Milly, I can tell you. She’ll have her hands full just looking after Miss
Miriam. She’ll be a handful that one, Kitty. Personally, I don’t envy you one bit. And as for sending postcards, they’ll be ever so expensive. How do you think your sister is
going to find the money to be sending you things like that, eh?’

Poor Milly looked so crestfallen that Kitty hugged her and promised impulsively, ‘I’ll try to bring you back something nice.’

She was rewarded by her sister’s face brightening considerably. ‘Oh Kitty, will you really?’ She flung her arms about her neck and said ecstatically, ‘You are the best of
sisters and I am going to miss you so much.’

Kitty hugged her in return but her only thought was, How on earth am I going to be able to buy her a present from foreign parts when I’m not even leaving the country? But all she said was,
‘Goodbye, Milly. You be a good girl for Mrs Grundy and give me mam and dad and everyone my love when you next go home on your Sunday off.’

Milly, easy tears brimming her eyes, nodded and then added, ‘But you’ll see Dad at the station, our Kitty. He’ll see you off on the train to London.’

Kitty stiffened and a tremor of fear flooded through her again. That was another thing. They were not going to London, but in the opposite direction entirely. Kitty groaned inwardly and her mind
began to race. Whatever could she do?

Then she found herself enveloped in Mrs Grundy’s ample embrace. ‘Tek care of yarsen, lass. I’ll look after Milly, dun’t you fret.’

‘I know you will, Mrs G.’ Kitty hugged the plump woman with genuine warmth. ‘And take care of yourself.’

‘I will, lass, I will. Now off you go. The master and mistress are waiting at the front and Bemmy’s brought the car round. Go and fetch Miss Miriam down, else you’ll miss ya
train.’

As Kitty went into the hall, Miriam was descending the main staircase. Her face was white and there were dark shadows beneath her eyes. She was wearing a close-fitting travelling costume and, to
Kitty’s knowing eye, the fabric around her waist was already creasing into stretched folds around her thickening body. Inwardly, Kitty sighed. We’re leaving not a moment too soon, she
thought, and held open the door for Miriam to pass through.

‘Come along, girl,’ came Mr Franklin’s loud voice. ‘And for Heaven’s sake – cheer up. You’re going to have the time of your life and let me tell you,
there’s a lot of young gels would give their eye teeth to be in your shoes. Going round the world. And a pretty penny it’s costing me.’

Kitty cast an anxious glance at Miriam and saw the sudden flash of anger in the green eyes, saw her look at her father as if she was about to speak.

Kitty touched her arm and whispered, warningly, ‘Miss . . .’

The girl bit her lip and shot a swift, grateful glance at her maid. Now the tiny smile on her mouth was tremulous and she seemed close to tears. Miss Miriam hardly looked as if she was setting
off on the trip of a lifetime, Kitty thought wryly.

The family settled themselves in the rear of the vehicle and Kitty climbed into the seat beside the driver. As Bemmy swung the handle and the noisy engine shuddered into life, Kitty glanced up.
At a second-floor window, she saw the pale face of Edward.

‘Look, miss, Master Edward’s waving goodbye to you.’

Kitty twisted her head to look at Miriam, but her young mistress neither spoke nor even looked up and, as the motor car leaped forward, only Kitty waved her hand to the lonely figure at the
window.

‘Two first-class tickets to London, my man.’ Mr Franklin’s voice echoed along the platform as he bent towards the man in the ticket office.

Kitty saw Mrs Franklin and Miriam exchange a glance and guessed that they had not given a thought to the fact of which train they would have to board for the sake of keeping up the pretence.
Kitty went to stand beside her mistress. In a low voice she said, ‘It’s all right, madam. We’ll just get off further down the line and travel north from there. No one will
know.’

‘Thank you, Kitty,’ Mrs Franklin murmured, her lips scarcely moving, and Kitty could see the relief on her face.

‘Now, how long’s this wretched train going to be?’ Mr Franklin demanded as he rejoined them. ‘I’ve matters to attend to, you know. I need to find Thorndyke . .
.’

Kitty felt her whole body stiffen and, beside her, she heard Miriam give a little gasp, but, blithely unaware, Mr Franklin continued. ‘He’s still on the estate somewhere and
there’s a tree needs felling before he leaves the area.’

Kitty felt her heart begin to pound and a flush start in her neck and creep up into her face. Beside her, Miriam stood rigidly still and, stony-faced, stared directly ahead.

‘Here, you.’ Mr Franklin was beckoning someone standing further down the platform and Kitty saw her father turn and walk towards them. He was a thin, dapper man, with sharp eyes
behind steel-rimmed spectacles. A drooping moustache hid his mouth and his nose was a little too bulbous for the size of his face.

‘Ah, good morning. Clegg, isn’t it?’

‘It is, sir. Fancy you remembering.’

Kitty gasped at the undisguised insolence in her father’s voice. Her own moment of discomfort forgotten, she watched the two men and to her surprise, it was the master, not her father, who
seemed ill at ease.

‘What time’s the London train due?’ he was asking brusquely.

John Clegg made a great play of pulling out a gold watch on the end of a chain from the pocket of his uniform waistcoat. ‘Ten minutes – sir.’ His glance went to his daughter.
‘Kitty, you’ve time to go and say goodbye to your mother.’

Kitty almost gasped aloud. She would not have dared to ask such a thing, good though her mistress was. She cast an anxious glance towards Mrs Franklin.

‘Very well, Kitty,’ she said graciously. ‘But, please, don’t be many minutes.’

‘No, madam. Thank you, madam.’ She picked up her skirts and ran the length of the platform towards the station house.

‘Mam, Mam . . .?’ she called, bursting through the back door.

‘Why, Kitty, whatever’s wrong?’

In a rare moment of weakness, Kitty felt the overwhelming desire to fling herself into her mother’s embrace and pour out the whole sorry story of Miss Miriam’s disgrace, of her own
heartache caused by the same man and the reason for their hasty departure. Instead, she clamped down the feeling and said brightly, ‘We’re off on a trip, Mam. Me and Miss
Miriam.’

‘A trip? Where to? How long will you be gone?’

Kitty swallowed. This was the first deliberate lie she was going to have to tell. At the Manor, the rest of the staff, even her own sister, had heard the news of their proposed tour from the
mistress. All Kitty had had to do was go along with it. But now it had to come from her mouth. She licked her lips, suddenly dry. With a forced brightness, she said, ‘A Grand Tour, no less,
but don’t ask me exactly where we’re going, ’cos I don’t know.’

‘A Grand Tour? Kitty, how wonderful for you. Oh, the sights you’ll see. You are a lucky girl.’

‘Aren’t I just?’ she said and hoped the bitter irony was not noticeable in her voice.

‘How long will you be gone?’

Now she could be truthful. ‘I’m not sure. Six or seven months at least.’

‘Six months! Heavens!’ Betsy Clegg threw her arms wide and hugged her eldest child to her. ‘I’ll miss you, our Kitty.’

‘I’ll miss you, Mam,’ Kitty said, her voice muffled against the woman’s shoulder. Oh how much, she thought silently, you’ll never know.

‘I’ll come and see you off.’ Linking arms they left the house, but as they stepped on to the platform, Kitty saw Mr Franklin waving and shouting, ‘Come along, come along,
girl. The train’s due.’ At her side, she felt her mother stiffen.

Turning to look at her, she saw that Betsy Clegg was staring down the platform towards the Franklin family. ‘Oh, I didn’t realize . . .’ she began and Kitty could not help but
notice a tremble in her voice. ‘The whole family has come to see you off. I should have thought – should have known. And your father’s there – with them. Oh dear.’ She
pulled her arm away and turned. Swiftly, she hugged Kitty and for a moment held the girl’s face between the palms of her hands. ‘Take care of yourself, love. I must go.’