Dorothy Eden (3 page)

Clemency stood behind her uncle, bending over him and nuzzling his cheek.

“Darling Uncle, I have an important date in St. Margaret’s Church, Westminster, London, exactly two weeks from now, and I surely don’t intend to miss it. Not even if the Kaiser himself warned us.”

“This is the Kaiser’s warning, through his spokesman. But I can see both I and the Kaiser are wasting our time.”

“Goodness me, Jonas,” Mrs Jervis broke in, “the
Lusitania
has the blue riband of the Atlantic. She can surely outsail any enemy ship. And I expect we’ll have an escort when we enter dangerous waters. I’ll personally get the Captain’s reassurance. As soon as we go on board.”

“You won’t get to talk to the Captain until you’re steaming outside the heads, and it’ll be too late to turn back. Well, I’ve warned you, girls. And I’m bound to tell you that from what I hear not many people have cancelled. Not even young Alfred Vanderbilt.”

“There you are then, Jonas.”

“I know where I am, Millicent. Safe in New York City. Now shouldn’t you be asking the maid you’re taking how she feels?”

“Brown!” said Clemency. “She wouldn’t miss it for anything. She knows she’ll never have another chance like this.”

“All the same, you ought to let the girl make up her own mind.”

“But I couldn’t possibly do without her. She has to dress me for my wedding.”

“All the same,” Uncle Jonas said stubbornly, “I think we Americans can call ourselves a compassionate people. We regard our servants as human beings.”

“Jonas, you’re just too interfering,” Mrs Jervis said crossly. “If Clemency and I decide to risk all these dangers you talk about then so can Brown. I don’t intend saying a word to her.”

Most of this conversation was related to Hetty by Polly, the maid who had been waiting on the family at breakfast. Mrs Crampton, the cook, showed the most indignation. She was a motherly person who had taken Hetty under her wing from the day of her arrival, a scared little creature, grieving for her mother and utterly bewildered by the size and richness of the house.

Now she was exclaiming, “I think it’s downright wicked not to give Hetty a choice. All Mr Jonas seems concerned about is the money in the Westminster bank. But Hetty’s a person, not a slave, after all. Slavery went out last century. She ought to be allowed to decide whether she wants to put her life in danger. Hetty, show your spirit and refuse to go.”

“But what would I do then, Mrs Crampton? I wouldn’t have a job. You know what the mistress is if she doesn’t get her own way. Miss Clemency, too. I’d be walking the streets.”

Hetty was twisting her hands in deep agitation. She didn’t want this exciting voyage to melt away like a mirage, yet she had a strong intuition that it would be dangerous. The Germans didn’t play games. But they would prefer that the British ships they sank didn’t carry Americans. They wouldn’t want to antagonise the United States. In that, her conclusions were the same as Uncle Jonas’s. She also knew it wasn’t right that Mrs Jervis and Clemency should so carelessly decide her fate. Was that all they thought of her after all these years?

However, for what it was worth, she had made up her own mind. “I’ll go, Mrs Crampton,” she said definitely. “I have to look after Miss Clemency’s wedding dress.”

In the big kitchen they were all looking at her fondly, Mrs Crampton with moist eyes, Polly with admiration, Mr Banks, the butler, unbending enough to shake her hand, and Topsy, the smallest maid and as black as the polished stove, rolling her eyes fearfully.

“I declare,” said Mrs Crampton aggressively, “Hetty will never drown. She’ll bob up like a rubber ball. Won’t you, honey? But always remember, we’re all your friends.”

“I’ll always remember,” Hetty said shakily.

The bell was ringing for her to go upstairs. She was dressed for travelling, except for her hat and cloak. Her hair was smoothly brushed, parted in the middle and twisted into a neat bob, while the small white collar of her dark stuff dress made her look meek and obedient. Yet there was something about her that made Mrs Crampton say, as she left the room, “That one will never stay a lady’s maid. And good luck to her, I say.”

So, three hours later, they waved to the rotund but diminishing figure of Uncle Jonas on the wharf, and sailed on the full tide. Mrs Jervis and Clemency were to occupy a spacious suite on the promenade deck. Hetty was to share a cabin in steerage with a young mother and two small children. She would spend most of the day and the night, of course, attending to her employers’ wants. Naturally she couldn’t eat in the first-class dining saloon. Anyway, Mrs Jervis and Clemency were at the Captain’s table, along with the millionaire, Mr Alfred Vanderbilt, and several other important people who had not been afraid to sail on the famous Cunard liner.

Mrs Jervis was sure that on such a fine ship the food would be acceptable, wherever it was eaten. Not that she would have worried too much about Hetty’s menu. So Hetty was to descend to the bowels of the ship three times a day. It was aggravating that she could not be rung for. Mrs Jervis overcame this difficulty by drawing up a list of the hours she would be required in the first-class suite.

Hetty saw that she was not going to be spending a great deal of time in steerage, either having meals or getting to know people, or even indulging in seasickness. Mrs Jervis would certainly regard that last as an indulgence.

She was perfectly sure that Mrs Jervis was getting a final vindictive pleasure out of the situation that had been forced on her twelve years ago. Where else should the daughter of her late husband’s mistress travel but in steerage?

“And what are you going to England for?” Mrs Drummond, the woman who was sharing her cabin, asked.

“I’m a lady’s maid. To Miss Clemency Jervis. She’s to be married in St. Margaret’s, Westminster. To a Lord.”

“Isn’t that romantic?” Mrs Drummond said. She had a harassed face, and her two small children, aged one and two, constantly tired her out. She was seasick as well. At least the thought of a grand wedding cheered her up. Hetty helped her as much as possible, but the ladies in the first-class suite, with all their frills and furbelows, allowed her very little free time. It was a pity, because she felt an affinity with Mary Drummond. She reminded Hetty of the faces of her childhood.

“You don’t look like a lady’s maid, love.”

“Don’t I?”

“You look like a lady yourself.”

“Apeing my betters?”

“But you don’t think they’re your betters, do you? I’m sure you’re right. I’m sure they’d never be kind to my Alfie and Benny like you are.”

The little boys were bewildered pale-faced creatures who clung to Hetty when their mother was laid low with seasickness. She spent more time feeding them than herself. Mrs Drummond’s husband was a Canadian who had enlisted in the Royal Navy and sailed some weeks previously. She was following him to England with the children. They would live in lodgings in Portsmouth. No, she wasn’t nervous on such a big ship. Having so many rich and important Americans on board the Germans would never dare to touch it, would they?

But she wanted to hear all about the high life on the upper decks, and looked to Hetty for this information.

Inevitably Clemency was soon conducting several flirtations at once. Her mother looked on blandly, as always delighted by her daughter’s social success. Her dear child had such high spirits, she told various passengers to whom she had already boasted about the noble fiancé waiting in England. Wasn’t it well known that sea voyages always turned young girls’ heads? It would be dear Clemency’s last fling before settling down as a wife, so who could blame the girl. She was only twenty-one years old. And to tell the truth, Mrs Jervis confided to Mr Vanderbilt (who had been divorced and remarried and was therefore extremely worldly and sophisticated) Clemency didn’t really know her intended husband that well. Did any bride, if it came to that? So let her have some shipboard fun. Besides, it took her mind off the thought of submarines.

They were not yet in dangerous waters, the Captain said. The Irish sea would be the place where the most strict look-out would be kept. But that was still three days’ steaming away. If they wanted to get nervous, the Captain added, and he wasn’t a joking man, let them wait until then.

Impervious, the two ladies, Mrs Jervis and her daughter, perfumed and bejewelled, sallied forth each evening. They were having a tremendous time. Imagine if they had listened to that old woman, Uncle Jonas, and cancelled the trip!

I despise Clemency, Hetty thought, getting out yet another of the dinner gowns and spending an hour or more ironing the soft silk folds. These gowns were part of Clemency’s trousseau. They should have been kept for her husband, that tall blond blue-eyed Englishman, who was surely expecting a bride who loved him.

Hetty climbed down to steerage for her evening meal, helped Mary Drummond put the children to bed, and talked to Mrs Drummond and other passengers, until it was time to go up again to undress her ladies. Mrs Drummond found the whole business fascinating but unbelievable. Two grown women who couldn’t undress themselves.

“But I don’t intend doing it for ever,” Hetty said. “I’ve been talking to those nice girls who want to be Red Cross nurses. I think that’s what I’ll do, too, when I’ve got Miss Clemency married. If the war’s still on, and they’ll have me.”

“They’d be lucky to get you, dear,” said Mrs Drummond.

On the last night at sea there was to be a concert in the first-class saloon and several parties in the cabins of the more famous passengers. Wasn’t it exciting, Mrs Jervis said, Mr Vanderbilt was going to buy horses, and he had been persuaded to come to Clemency’s wedding. There was also a party in steerage, where some amateur musicians were going to play dance music, but the dress there would be informal.

It was only stipulated that strict black-out rules must be observed, and wandering on the decks in the moonlight was not to be encouraged. Even pale dresses and the gentlemen’s white shirt-fronts could be detected from the sea if the moon was shining brightly enough.

Apart from that there was no reason not to celebrate the closing stages of an uneventful voyage. Tomorrow morning the Irish coast would be in sight, and an escort vessel would be waiting to shepherd the great ship through the more hazardous waters. In a few hours, when the tide was full, they would sail into the refuge of the Mersey channel.

Clemency was in a state bordering on hysteria. She had just received a wireless message from Lord Hazzard saying that he would be waiting at Liverpool to meet her. “Marriage arranged for the twentieth May,” the wireless ended. “Not too soon I hope. Stop. Time is of the essence. Stop. Love Hugo.”

Clemency crumpled the paper in her hands. She seemed to be on the verge of tears.

“But that’s wonderful, honey,” Mrs Jervis said. “What are you upset about?”

“It seems—kind of cold. Kind of businesslike.”

“Nonsense. You have to be economical with words in wireless messages. And he sends his love. Saying time is of the essence probably means he’s not got very long leave.”

“Or that I’ve got to get immediately pregnant,” Clemency muttered.

“Maybe,” said Mrs Jervis serenely. “That’s no bad thing. Give him his heir and then have fun. That’s how the nobility do it.”

“I’m having fun now, Mother. I think I’m in love with Bobby Merrit.”

“That young man you’ve been flirting with? Nonsense!”

“Don’t keep on saying nonsense, Mother. It’s the truth.”

“Clemency! You haven’t gone too far, have you?”

“No, but I’d like to. We did climb into a lifeboat last night, but the look-out saw us and got us out. Pity!” Clemency giggled faintly. “Only it was rather cold.”

Mrs Jervis sighed deeply. “It’s the sea voyage. It always goes to young girls’ heads. You’re being very naïve and naughty. Now the moment you see Hugo waiting for you, you’ll forget all about this and get your good sense back.”

Clemency pouted.

“Bobby and I are going to have tonight, whatever you say, Mother.”

“Of course. But don’t lead the young man on. And don’t keep poor Brown up too late. I want you here in bed before dawn, or I shall be angry.”

“Poor Brown.” Hetty was only referred to in this way when it suited Mrs Jervis’s purpose. She didn’t relish the thought of staying up until dawn to divest Clemency of her finery. All her jewellery, too, for both ladies had been to the purser that afternoon and had taken their valuables out of the ship’s strongroom. Mrs Jervis intended to wear her diamond choker, her pendant diamond earrings and several rings. Clemency would wear her double rope of pearls, two gold bracelets, and a diamond clip in her hair. And, of course, the charming antique engagement ring Hugo had given her.

The jewellery would not be returned to the purser for safekeeping, for they would be packing tomorrow and it would be Hetty’s responsibility never to let the jewelcase out of her sight.

“Have you had an enjoyable trip, Brown?” Clemency thought to ask.”

“Yes, thank you. I’ve met some nice people.”

“In steerage!”

“Why not? We’re having a party tonight. When am I to come up to undress you?”

“Oh, I daresay I could manage myself.”

“No, you could not,” interrupted her mother. “Brown, be here at one a.m. and I’m sure Clemency will have the courtesy not to keep you waiting.”

“Oh, Mother! You’re just spying on me.”

“And I should think so. For your own good.”

They had cleared the dining saloon in steerage, an Irishman returning to his native Galway played the fiddle, and everybody, even the oldest, danced in lively fashion.

Hetty was partnered by a young man from Toronto. He was going to England to join the Flying Corps, he said. He had always wanted to fly, and under the pressure of war the British were making great strides with their airplanes.

“That’s if we arrive safely in England,” he said.

“But we’re nearly there.”

“Don’t you believe it. The most dangerous bit of ocean is still to come. And I don’t go for all that stuff about the Germans being too honourable to sink a passenger ship carrying neutrals. Why, even if this ship flew the American flag, she’d be a target, and a legitimate one.”