Chaff upon the Wind (44 page)

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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

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He laughed, flinging her away from him. ‘You think what you like, but it weren’t you. Not even then. Oh, I know you like to think so. I know you like to think you were the heroine,
looking after me and the boy and working in the team to keep things going. But while you were so busy, there was someone else there for me. Someone who came every day to see me, who nursed me and
fed me. She, not you, made me feel the man again.’

The shock was like a physical blow. She felt it in the pit of her stomach and automatically her hand clutched her midriff. Her legs trembled and felt as if they would let her down. ‘Oh no!
Not – not . . .’

She had to stop it. She had to stop Miriam throwing her life away. Her whole family would disown her. Even the kindly Sir Ralph would have no pity for her. She mustn’t, just mustn’t,
be so foolish. She, Kitty, could stop it. She could make her see sense, could tell her what life would be like with Jack Thorndyke.

Or did Miriam hope to raise him up? To take him and Johnnie to live with her and . . .

The thought was like a knife in Kitty’s heart and a little cry escaped her lips.

Johnnie! Oh no! They could take him from her. His real parents – both his parents – they really could take him away from her.

With a sudden jolt, Kitty realized that in all of her thinking not once had she bewailed the fact that she was losing Jack.

It was not Jack Thorndyke who filled her mind and her heart now; it was a dark-haired, mischievous little boy called Johnnie.

Jack was nodding. ‘Aye, that’s right. Someone who’s proud of me just the way I am.’

Kitty pulled in a deep, shuddering breath and with it, her determination flooded through her again. ‘I won’t let it happen, Jack. I won’t let you ruin her life or take Johnnie
from me. I’ll fight you every step of the way. I mean it.’

‘He’s my son. You say so yourself.’

‘Yes, I’ll not deny that. He has a right to know his father—’

‘He has a right to be
with
his father.’

And his mother, Kitty’s heart jerked. His real mother. She held her breath, waiting for the dreadful words to come from Jack’s lips.

‘Besides,’ he was saying, ‘you’ll still be able to see him. I’m sure your sister won’t mind.’

‘What?’ A tumult of emotions was tearing her apart. First hope, then swiftly followed by another fear. ‘What are you saying? You don’t mean – you can’t mean
– that it’s
Milly
?’

He was staring at her. ‘Of course it’s Milly. I’d’ve thought you’d’ve guessed. You knew how much time she spent with me at the cottage when I was laid up. You
knew . . .’

Now Kitty’s legs did give way and she crumpled to the ground.

He was staring down at her but made no effort to help her.

‘Who on earth did you think it was?’ he began and then, suddenly, he laughed out loud. ‘You thought it was her ladyship, didn’t you? Miriam. You thought it was
her?’

Kitty was rocking backwards and forwards, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, and she found she was doing both; with relief that it was not Miriam and shock that Milly, her own sister, could be
so stupid.

Jack was watching her, rather put out by her reaction. A frown creased his forehead and his eyes were dark with anger. ‘What’s so funny?’

Kitty was shaking her head. ‘Of all people, Milly! And she . . .’ She stopped suddenly and pressed her lips together. She had been about to say ‘and she was the one who gave
you that first white feather’ but she bit back the words.

And there was another reason too. A reason that made her feel light-headed; a wonderful, glorious reason. If Jack and Milly were together then she would be free. She could leave and take Johnnie
with her.

Then as quickly as it had come, the thought died. How could she let Milly wreck her life as she had done? Despite everything, Milly was still her sister, and Kitty, better than anyone else, knew
just what Jack Thorndyke was really like.

Oh no, she couldn’t let it happen.

The door to freedom which, miraculously, had just begun to open, was suddenly slammed in her face. She was still trapped. Their lives were as tightly entwined as the tiny plaits woven by
Jack’s clever fingers to make the corn maidens. And just as cleverly had he bound her to him.

She was shaking her head slowly. ‘It’s not going to happen, Jack. I won’t let it happen.’

He threw back his head and let out a great roar of laughter. He stepped close to her then and gripped her chin with his fingers, so hard that it left tiny bruise marks on her jawline. ‘You
jealous, Kitty?’

Anger flashed briefly in her eyes, but she quelled it. This was not the way. Now she had to put on an act. And she was quite capable of it, for hadn’t she fooled everyone – except
Jack – about Johnnie? Her own family, even Edward. No, no, she must not think of him. Not now, not at this moment, she must not allow herself to think of Edward or her resolve would crumble.
Now she must make Jack think she still wanted
him
, still loved
him
.

‘And how,’ he was saying slowly, ‘do you think you’re going to stop it?’

‘I’ll tell our dad. He’ll stop it – and Mrs Grundy. Milly wants to be a cook, more than anything. She . . .’ Kitty’s voice faltered as Jack shook his
head.

‘Oh no, that’s where you’re wrong, Kitty. Milly wants – more than anything else in this whole wide world – to be with me.’ With deliberately measured cruelty,
he added, ‘To – be – my – wife.’

The shock was complete. ‘You’re – you’re going to
marry
her?’

‘That’s right. She’ll make a good wife and – a good mother for Johnnie.’

Kitty felt as if her blood had turned to ice. There was a moment’s stillness as if they were both frozen in time and then she wrenched herself free and screamed, so loudly and so suddenly,
that even Jack was startled and stepped backwards.

‘No, no, never. I’ll never let you do that.’

He had regained his composure, his sureness. ‘How are you going to stop me?’ he said again. ‘A boy should be with his father or, of course, his
real
mother. You’re
nothing to him, Kitty Clegg. Nothing!’

‘I’m the only mother he’s ever known. He – he’s everything to me.’

‘Oh aye,’ he laughed wryly. ‘I used to be everything to you once upon a time.’

She shook her head. ‘You changed, Jack, even before your accident. You were so bitter and twisted, you . . .’

‘Oh aye, and hadn’t I good reason. You tried to deceive me, Kitty. Tried to use that child to force me to marry you. If you’d only been honest with me from the start then maybe
we’d’ve had a chance, but as it was . . .’ He left the accusation hanging between them.

‘It wasn’t my secret, Jack, that’s why I couldn’t tell you. It was wrong, I know that now. But what I did I didn’t do for myself. I did it for Johnnie. He would
have been given away, handed over to complete strangers. I couldn’t let that happen. The minute I held him, I loved him. Partly because he was yours and I – I loved you, but for his own
sake too. I loved
Johnnie
– for himself. I still do and I always will.’ Blind rage filled her and she shook her fist at him. ‘You won’t take him away from me. I
won’t let you.’ She was beyond caring now. This was the one thing that would make her break her years of silence. ‘Whatever it costs, you won’t take Johnnie.’

Fifty-Three

‘He won’t marry you, Milly,’ Kitty said bluntly, facing her sister across the table in the kitchen at the Manor, the same table on which the doctor had cut
off Jack’s arm.

‘Yes, he will. He’s asked me.’

‘What’s this?’ Mrs Grundy, bad on her legs now, waddled from the range to stand at the end of the table between them, glancing first at one and then at the other.

‘You getting married, Milly? Who to? You might ’ave said you’d be leaving, ’cos the mistress won’t let you stay if you’re married.’

‘Now look what you’ve started,’ Milly hissed at Kitty.

‘And there was me teaching you all me secrets, an’ all,’ Mrs Grundy was in full, indignant, flood. ‘You deceitful, ungrateful girl . . .’

‘Oh shut up, you silly old woman. What do I care—?’

The cook’s mouth dropped open and her eyes bulged. ‘Well, I—’

‘How dare you speak to Mrs Grundy like that? Apologize this minute.’

‘I’ll do no such thing,’ Milly snapped. ‘How I’ve put up with her whining on at me these last few years, about how wonderful
you
were and how you’d
thrown yourself away on a useless, good-for-nothing Jack-the-Lad. Oh, I’ve had it all and now I’ve had enough.’

‘She was right. I did. The only good thing in my life is little Johnnie. And let me tell you, our Milly . . .’ she wagged her forefinger in her sister’s face, ‘and
I’ve told Jack an’ all. You’re not having him. Not Johnnie.’

The girl shrugged. ‘Suits me. I don’t want the little brat. I only agreed because Jack wants his son. But I reckon a child should stay with his mother, anyway. So you’re
welcome.’

Kitty stared, surprised that Jack had not told Milly the truth. But he would, she knew he would. Now.

The fight drained from her. ‘Oh Milly, Milly . . .’ She sank down into a chair at the table and rested her arms on its surface. ‘Think what you’re doing. Please.
You’ve seen what’s happened to me. Look at me. I look an old woman before me time. Worn out. He’ll never change, can’t you see? He’ll always be a Jack-the-Lad. Once
he’s tired of you, he’ll . . .’

‘No, he won’t. I’ve told you, he’s going to
marry
me.’

‘I’ll believe it when I see it.’

She had never seen such spite in her sister’s face as Milly said, ‘You will, Kitty, you will.’

Kitty dragged herself wearily to her feet, turned and left the kitchen. As she went out of the back door she heard Mrs Grundy’s voice raised once more. ‘You can pack your bags and
leave this minute. And I don’t care what the mistress says,
I’m
dismissing you. I won’t have you in my kitchen a moment longer.’

‘Jack, Milly doesn’t want Johnnie. She said so herself.’

When she got back to the cottage, Jack was cutting wood, wielding the huge axe with his one arm. Johnnie was there, helping. He placed each log on the chopping block and then stood back, well
out of the way, while Jack swung the axe. He had perfect aim each time, and the log split into two. Johnnie ran forward and repositioned the wood, then stepped back as the man cut it once more.

Jack paused and looked up at her, the axe resting on the block. Kitty was aware too that Johnnie was looking at her, an unspoken question in his eyes. She turned to him. ‘Johnnie, go into
the house and collect your belongings. We’re leaving.’

‘Leaving?’ His startled gaze went from one to the other, between the two people he believed to be his parents. Both his parents. ‘But we can’t. I’m helping
Dad.’

‘That’s right, son,’ Jack’s voice came, deceptively soft, but Kitty could hear the underlying menace. ‘You’re staying with your dad. She can go if she wants,
can’t she? But you’re staying here.’

‘No, Dad. Don’t let her go.’ He turned wide, perplexed eyes on her. ‘Don’t go, Mam.’ He couldn’t understand what was happening. All he knew was that he
didn’t want anyone to go anywhere. He wanted them to stay together, the three of them.

Kitty squatted down and held out her hand to him. ‘Come here, Johnnie.’

Reluctantly the boy moved towards her, all the time glancing back towards his father. ‘What?’ he muttered morosely.

She caught hold of his hands and pulled him to her. ‘Your father is going to marry Milly. My sister, Milly.’

‘No, no,’ the boy shouted, pulling his hands away and turning back to face his father. ‘You aren’t, Dad, are you? Say you aren’t.’

Ignoring his son, Jack picked up the axe and took a step towards Kitty. ‘I’m warning you,’ he said. ‘You stop trying to turn that boy against me, else I’ll . .
.’

Kitty stood up, caught hold of Johnnie and pushed him behind her. ‘Go, Johnnie, run. Run, I tell you.’

And he went, on flying feet through the gate and into the lane. As they stood facing each other, they could hear his feet pounding on the hard surface of the lane, the sound growing fainter and
fainter.

Kitty breathed more easily. Johnnie was safe.

‘Now, Kitty Clegg, it’s just you and me, then.’

Squarely she faced him, but the anger had drained out of her now to be replaced by a terrible sadness. How had it all come to this, that she was facing the man she had once loved so passionately
and he was brandishing an axe?

‘Remember the dog and the rat in the barrel, Jack? Well, I’m like that little dog you put in there that day. I’m turning, Jack. It’s taking me a mite longer than that
terrier, but now I’m biting back. I’m biting back at long last. I loved you, then. I really did, I’ll never say otherwise, but slowly over the years you’ve killed that love
and now I feel nothing for you. I don’t even hate you, Jack,’ she added sadly, ‘’cos even that’s a – a feeling. And I don’t have any feelings left for you.
None at all. And that . . .’ There was a lump in her throat and a catch in her voice. ‘And that, to me, is very sad.’

‘You do what you like, but he’s going nowhere. He’s staying here. He’s
my
son.’ Jack stepped towards her, lifting up the axe as he came. Kitty put out her
hand as if to fend him off when they both heard a voice behind them, a voice that made them stop.

Jack held the axe suspended in midair, and Kitty closed her eyes and breathed, ‘No, oh no. Not now.’

‘Thorndyke,’ Edward’s voice came again. ‘Step back. Away from her. This instant. Do you hear me?’

Jack held the axe higher, gripping it firmly, but now he was facing the approaching Edward.

‘Don’t be a fool, man. Drop it.’

‘Don’t come any nearer, mester. This is nowt to do wi’ you.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong, Thorndyke. Very wrong. Kitty is not staying with you a moment longer.’ Though his gaze never left Jack or the axe in his hand, Edward spoke to
Kitty. ‘Get your things, and the boy’s. You’re coming with me.’

‘Edward, I – I can’t . . .’

The axe came even higher. ‘You’ve no business here, mester. Be on ya way afore I . . .’

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