Chaff upon the Wind (32 page)

‘What she really needs,’ Guy murmured, almost as if he had been reading her mind, ‘is to be a wife and mother.’

Kitty forced a smile but said nothing. So close were his musings to her own thoughts that she did not trust herself to speak.

‘Well, Kitty,’ he said, his smile broadening. ‘The first I can do something about straight away. With her parents’ approval, I think we should be married as soon as
possible, don’t you? As for the second, I hope it won’t be too long, once we’re married, before we’re blessed with children.’ There was a wistful note in his voice as
he added, ‘I’d love a big family. I’ve missed having brothers and sisters.’

Kitty swallowed. Latching on to the first suggestion, she said, ‘That’s a wonderful idea, Mr Guy. Miss Miriam will make a beautiful bride.’

‘Yes, yes.’ The young man’s eyes softened. ‘She will, won’t she?’

‘If – if you’ll excuse me, Mr Guy, I must be getting ready. Mr Edward and I are leaving.’

‘Oh yes, yes, of course. You must be wanting to get home to your little boy. I’m sorry you’re already a day later than you intended, but thank you again.’

‘I-it’s all right, Mr Guy,’ she murmured. She knew in her heart that it was anything but “all right”. Just what Jack would say, or do, when he returned home to the
empty cottage, she dare not think.

‘Where the hell have you been?’

Jack caught hold of her shoulders and slammed her roughly against the wall as she stepped through the door of the cottage. Kitty let out a cry of pain as her head banged against the wall and his
strong fingers dug deeply into the flesh on her upper arms.

‘Jack—’

‘You’ve been with some man. You whore! Is this what you do when I’m away all week?’

‘Jack!’ Now she gasped his name. ‘How can you say such a thing?’ Then as rightful indignation brought courage, she lifted her arms and thrust him away from her, anger
lending her extra strength. Caught unawares, he released his hold and stepped backwards.

‘How dare you even think such a thing about me?’ she shouted at him. ‘Judge everyone else by yar own standards, d’ya? I shouldn’t think you go to bed every night on
yar own when you’re away from me in the week, d’ya?’

It was what she had thought for several months, but she had kept the fear pressed down, pushed to the back of her mind. Now, in her rage, the accusation hung in the air between them.

‘A man’s got his needs.’

‘Aye, and you’ve got more “needs” than most, Jack Thorndyke,’ she cried bitterly.

He thrust his face, dark with anger, close to hers. ‘It’s him, ain’t it?’

Genuinely puzzled, Kitty stared up into his face. ‘Him? Who are you talking about?’

Again he gripped her arm, but not so fiercely this time. ‘You know very well. Master Edward Franklin. Don’t think I don’t know he comes here when I’m away. There’s
nothing you can do, girl, that I won’t get to hear about, so don’t you forget it. And he’s not to come here again. You hear?’

‘He came here the once,’ she retorted. ‘To ask me to go to London to help with—’

‘London?’ His voice was an enraged roar. ‘You’ve been to London?’

Kitty bit her lip, realizing her mistake.

‘You left my son to go gadding off to London?’

‘It wasn’t “gadding off”,’ she retorted hotly, thinking of the cold, damp cell where she might very well have ended up for weeks, even months, but for the honesty
of the police constable.

‘Johnnie’s with my mother. He’s quite safe.’

‘He’d better be, or else . . .’ The threat hung between them.

Then suddenly Jack laughed and folded his arms, leaning back against the wall. ‘I suppose you’ll be trying to tell me next that he came to see his nephew?’

Kitty’s lips parted in a gasp. ‘No, no. He doesn’t know. He mustn’t know. He must never know.’

‘Mustn’t he?’ Jack’s eyes were glinting now with malicious delight. ‘Mustn’t he indeed? Then you’ll just have to be a good girl and behave yourself,
won’t you, Kitty Clegg?’

He turned and dragged open the back door and walked away across the small yard towards the shed while Kitty stared after him.

‘What a fool,’ she murmured. ‘What a fool I have been.’

But now, with his final threat still echoing in her ears, she knew she was trapped, tied to Jack Thorndyke whether she wanted to be or not.

Jack was in a black mood.

‘Madam . . .’ the word was heavy with sarcasm, and for a moment Kitty was unsure whether he was speaking about Mrs Franklin or Miss Miriam, ‘sent word out to the yard this
morning that she wants to see you up at the Manor.’ He glowered. ‘I don’t want you seeing any of the Franklin family, but there’s not a lot I can do about it, seeing as me
work’s there for the next few weeks.’ He paused and then said grudgingly, ‘Ya’d better go an’ see what the Mrs wants.’

Kitty bent over the range and made no reply. She did not tell him that she had every intention of going to the Manor whether he gave her his divine permission or not. She ladled stew on to a
plate and placed it before him. As she made to turn away, Jack grasped her wrist in his strong grip forcing her to look at him.

‘I don’t want you to have owt to do with
her
. . .’ now she knew he was referring to Miriam, ‘or any of them. I don’t want her suddenly deciding to claim her
son back.’

Kitty stared at him. ‘She’ll not do that. That I do know. She’s more frightened of anyone finding out she
is
his mother.’

Jack’s expression became devious. ‘Is she now? And I wonder how much my silence is worth?’

Kitty was shocked. She twisted her wrist out of his grasp and then leaned close to him. ‘Don’t you dare try it, Jack, ’cos it’s only your word against mine – and
hers
. And her family’s a mite more powerful than a thresherman, big though he thinks he is.’

He, too, thrust his face close to hers. ‘Aye, but it’d sow seeds of doubt in everyone’s mind, especially in that fancy – wealthy – fiancé of hers.’

Kitty shook her head. ‘Don’t, Jack, don’t even think about it, ’cos you’ll be sorry if you do.’

‘You threatening me, Kitty Clegg?’ He never lost an opportunity to use her full name, accenting the surname and taunting her that she was still a single woman and likely to remain
so, emphasizing each time he used it that she would never bear the name of Thorndyke.

‘No,’ she said levelly. ‘But you would be sorry. Not for anything I might do, but for what it’d cost you. The influence of the Franklins, and the Hardings too don’t
forget, reaches far. Throughout the county, I shouldn’t wonder and if you—’

‘Yes, yes, I know all that. D’ya think I’m stupid enough to cut off me own living?’

Kitty raised her left eyebrow but said nothing. She would have liked to answer him back, to say, ‘you didn’t think of that when you tumbled Miss Miriam in the hay, did you?’
but it didn’t do to argue with Jack in this mood. It was not that she was afraid of him, but she had a favour to ask. Aloud she said, ‘Will you look after Johnnie this afternoon, then,
while I go?’

‘I ain’t no nursemaid. That’s women’s work. ’Sides, a stackyard’s no place for a bairn. Another couple of years and I’ll have him doing little jobs, but
not yet.’ His grin was sly as he suggested, ‘Tek him with you. I’m sure Mrs Franklin would like to see her grandson, and as for Miss Miriam, well, any mother must long to see her
own child.’

Kitty almost snorted aloud and retorted, not Miss Miriam, but she managed to hold the words in check.

‘Now you stay with Mrs Grundy while I go upstairs and see the mistress. Be a good boy, Johnnie. Maybe Mrs G.’ll give you a scone and butter, if you’re very
good,’ she added in a whisper that was deliberately loud so that the cook should hear.

Mrs Grundy stood before him, arms akimbo, looking down at the boy, whose mischievous eyes twinkled back at her.

‘So this is your boy, then, Kitty?’

Careful as ever in her choice of words, Kitty said, ‘This is Johnnie. He’ll be no trouble, but just keep your eye on him, Mrs G. He’ll do anything to get out into the yard and
to his dad, if he can.’

The boy pointed towards the back door. ‘Dad, engine, puff-puff. Me go.’

‘No, no, you stay here.’

‘He’ll be all right, Kitty. Me an’ him’ll have a nice little chat, eh, now won’t we, an’ I’ll see what I’ve got in me pantry.’

Kitty ran up the stairs and knocked on Mrs Franklin’s sitting-room door. Moments later she was sitting with the mistress on her window seat and it seemed, for an instant, as if the years
fell away and she was once again the little kitchen maid begging to become a lady’s maid.

Oh what trouble she might have saved herself, she thought suddenly, if only she had not been sitting here all that time ago.

‘Kitty, my dear. How are you?’

‘Very well, madam, thank you,’ Kitty said, careful not to let any sign of emotion creep into her tone. There was so much she could have said, could have told Mrs Franklin, yet she
did not.

‘Kitty, I need your help over the wedding. Miriam is being . . .’ she paused, sighed and then added, ‘difficult.’

So nothing had changed, Kitty thought with wry amusement, but she kept her face straight.

‘One moment she’s on top of the world, excited and planning her wedding, the next she’s in floods of tears saying she doesn’t want to marry Guy, that she doesn’t
want to marry anyone. Kitty, will you talk to her?’

‘Of course, madam, but I can’t promise that it will do any good.’

Mrs Franklin sighed. ‘I know, my dear, but there’s only you, apart from me, who understands – fully.’ The slightest hesitation before the final word spoke volumes.

Kitty rose. ‘Is she upstairs now, madam?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then I’ll go up.’

‘Thank you, Kitty.’ Her voice dropped as she murmured, ‘I really don’t know what we’d do without you, my dear.’

As she closed the door behind her and mounted the stairs, Kitty thought, What you’d have done without me is you’d have given that darling little boy away to strangers. A gentle smile
curved Kitty’s mouth. Whatever happened in her life, whatever cruelties she had to suffer under Jack’s threats, she would never regret having taken Johnnie.

As long as she had him, then nothing and no one else mattered.

Miriam’s bedroom door was ajar and even before she reached it she heard the girl’s voice. ‘Get out, you stupid girl . . .’

So, Kitty thought, the latest lady’s maid is getting just the same treatment. As she reached the door it was flung wide and a girl in maid’s uniform marched out, her face red, her
mouth pressed into a grim line. At least she’s not in floods of tears, Kitty thought as she stood aside to let her pass. The maid strode straight past her without a word and ran downstairs.
Kitty shrugged her shoulders, tapped on the half-open door and stepped into the room.

‘May I come in, miss?’

Miriam was standing in the middle of the bedroom, still in her nightgown, her auburn hair in a tangle of wild curls. Her face was tear-streaked, her green eyes flashing with rage. ‘That
stupid girl can’t dress my hair properly,’ she said, as if for Kitty Clegg to step unannounced into her bedroom was the most natural thing in the word. She moved towards the dressing
table and sat down on the stool. ‘Just see what you can do with it, Clegg.’

Kitty hid her smile, picked up the hairbrush and with quick, strong strokes began to bring some shape and style back into the disarray.

‘Oh Kitty . . .’ the girl began and Kitty glanced at Miriam’s reflection in the mirror. Suddenly her face crumpled and her lower lip trembled. ‘Kitty, what am I to
do?’

‘Do, miss?’ Kitty said, feigning surprise. ‘What about?’

‘About Guy and – and getting married.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I can’t marry Guy. I don’t love him.’

Through the glass the two girls stared at each other.

Softly Kitty asked, ‘Are you still in love with –
him
?’

Miriam shook her head vehemently – too vehemently, Kitty thought shrewdly. ‘No – no. I
hate
him.’

Kitty sighed and with a sudden insight and wisdom beyond her years, she said, ‘Hate isn’t the opposite of love, you know. That just means you still feel a strong emotion for
him.’

‘I don’t – I don’t.’ The tears were starting again.

Kitty patted her shoulder. ‘All right, miss. All right. Now listen.’ She bent down, putting her face above the girl’s shoulder so that they looked at each other in the mirror.
‘You’re fond of Mr Guy, aren’t you?’

Miriam nodded.

‘Well then, in your class lots of marriages start with no more than that when they’ve been arranged by the parents, now don’t they?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘And you can’t deny that Mr Guy loves you.’

‘I know, but . . .’

‘No, “buts”, miss,’ Kitty said firmly, straightening up and resuming her brushing. ‘Just you enjoy all the planning and the day itself. You’ll be the most
beautiful bride this town’s seen in a long time.’

‘Oh Kitty, but what if . . .?’

Kitty raised the hairbrush and shook it in admonishment. ‘No more doubts. It’s the right thing. And in time, well, I think you’ll come to love Mr Guy, ’cos he’s a
lovely man.’

‘Oh he is, he is,’ Miriam agreed, ‘but . . .’

She fell silent and stared at Kitty for a few moments, then she gave a huge sigh and began to smile. ‘You’re right, Kitty. I will marry Mr Guy and become Mistress of Nunsthorpe Hall
and forget all about – well – everything else.’

‘That’s right, miss. That’s what you ought to do,’ Kitty said firmly, and silently she prayed, And forget all about your son too. He’s mine.

The wedding, as Kitty had foreseen, was a grand affair and all the town turned out to watch Miss Miriam ride to the church in the open carriage. Even the late October day was
kind. A light breeze ruffled the bride’s veil, but the sun shone and the autumn weather was surprisingly warm.

Kitty slipped into the church to listen to the service, for, right at the back, she could see very little. But when Guy and Miriam came out of the door and walked between guests lining their
pathway towards the waiting carriage, she thought she had never in her life seen such a beautiful bride. She inched closer, smiling to see Guy tenderly handing Miriam into the carriage and then
climbing in beside her. Oh, how he loves her, Kitty thought enviously. He can hardly take his eyes off her. And today, Kitty was relieved to see that Miriam looked happy too. She was laughing gaily
and waving to all their relatives and friends, enjoying being the centre of attention. She will love him in time, I know she will, Kitty prayed.