Hope for Tomorrow (6 page)

He calmed down eventually and Martha realised that the rooms were shrines to his family, preserved exactly as they had been. She promised not to touch the other rooms again.

Her workload was light since she only had four rooms, two adults and hardly any cooking to worry about. She was given housekeeping money to buy breakfast food and sundries for the house but she didn't spend most of it. Gus wouldn't take it back so it just piled up in the housekeeper's desk, which was in the the room beside the kitchen. She kept meticulous records, just as Mrs Lassiter had taught her to.

She felt guilty about having so little work in the beginning, hence wanting to clean the parlour, but she gradually accepted that he wanted her as much as a companion as he did as a housekeeper.

They ate breakfast and the evening meal (that the cook, Mrs Needham, left for them) in the kitchen, then they spent most evenings by the fire in his study, talking. Gus was quite enamoured with Hope and enjoyed her company as much as Martha's, though he was pleasantly surprised to learn that Martha was educated and even more surprised when he learned that she hadn't been to school but was self-taught. He tried to continue her education and offered her the use of his library, which pleased her immensely.

She had asked about a uniform but he insisted that he didn't want her to wear one so she put her sewing skills to work and took the old fashioned dresses in the attic (which she learned had belonged to his mother) and modified them to fit her and be a little more modern in style. Not that fashion worried her particularly but she did still retain her dream of becoming a seamstress.

Gus told her about his business which was making gloves. As soon as he said that, she realised that Lady Beaumont had worn his gloves, for she had seen boxes with A Aldercott & Son in her room many times. She wondered why it only said 'son' and not 'sons' since he clearly had two but still she didn't dare ask.

Her wage was generous considering the little work that she had to do compared to Marchwood Hall but Gus was insistent. She spent most of her wage on Hope but put aside what she could afford to each week.

When she finally had three pounds saved, she asked Gus to change the coins for notes and sent them to Mrs Lassiter, her original two pounds plus interest, and included a very brief note of thanks. She didn't want to go into too much detail about her life because she didn't want Lucien to find her again. If Gus ever discovered the truth, that Hope was her daughter and not her sister, she would surely be out on the street again.

From that point on she began to send a little money home once a month. She sent it care of one of her mother's neighbours who could read, which was rare among the working classes. She sent it in such a roundabout fashion so that her father didn't take the money and waste it.

She had been in Gus's home for nine months when she finally felt comfortable enough to ask what had happened to his family and she regretted asking the question almost instantly as his features took on a ghastly grey shade.

“
I married late in life and I was more concerned with my business than love. Felicity was beautiful, far too good for the likes of me but she said 'yes' anyway. We were never very close though,” he explained. “I truly loved her but Felicity was very frail, prone to illness and bouts of melancholy. We did have two children, Thomas and Gideon. She loved the boys and seemed to come out of her shell a little; she doted on them.”

He stopped talking for a while then and Martha waited patiently for him to continue.

“
Thomas, the eldest, succumbed to measles when he was thirteen. We were both devastated but Felicity took it very hard indeed. She became very melancholic and no one, not even Gideon could reach her. She finally improved after about a year but she was never the same. Gideon went off to school and then university before he entered the business. He was sharp as a tack, that boy. He negotiated deals with merchants in Europe and America, increasing our turnover three fold! He was on his way back from a trip to America when his boat hit a squall. The ship went down and all aboard perished.

“
Felicity was inconsolable. She blamed me since Gideon had been on a business trip. The things she said...”

Now Martha was feeling awful about asking but his next words shocked her to the core.

“
Finally she jumped off of Masons Bridge, the one you met me on.”

“
I'm so sorry.”

“
She left a note behind for me in my desk drawer. She said that she wanted to die a watery death, as Gideon had and that she had never loved me and she held me entirely responsible for his death. I never had the courage to show anyone the note because I feared that they would blame me too.”

“
And that night I found you?” Martha asked.

“
I was considering joining her,” he admitted. “I often used to go and stand there but that night, after being robbed, I was truly at my wits end.”

He looked away from the fire and smiled at her.

“
And then you found me and rescued me.”

On impulse, Martha reached over and held his hand.

“
I would say that you rescued me.”

“
Then we rescued each other,” he smiled. “I'm so glad that you and Hope found me.” He squeezed her hand, then released it.

“
We're very glad too.” Martha assured him.

Sometimes she wondered how long this life would last, for surely reality must come crashing back in soon, but eventually she decided not to question it too much and try to enjoy it while it lasted.

When Hope's first birthday came around, Gus insisted that they have a small, private party; just the three of them. Hope was too young to know what was going on but they put a paper hat on her head and Martha baked a cake for her. She was too young to blow out the candle so Gus and Martha did that for her.

Gus bought Hope a selection of outfits that Martha thought wouldn't look out of place on the Earl of Marchwood's child, then she realised that in fact this
was
his grandchild and gave a wry smile.

“
What?” Gus asked.

“
Nothing,” Martha assured him. “Private joke.”

Martha bought her a few new toys to play with, though the nursery had plenty.

She had been with Gus for almost a year now and was happier than she ever believed that she could be. She could keep Hope with her while she worked, she had a good wage, a decent employer and not only the time but the encouragement to read his library of books.

He was no more sociable than when she had first met him but then she understood a little of how he must feel. Someone he loved had turned on him and betrayed him; she knew something about those kinds of wounds.

To be fair, Martha wasn't very sociable either. She was alone for most of the day, save for half an hour in the afternoon when Mrs Needham dropped by with the evening meal and stayed to share a cup of tea with her. She also went out each morning to buy fresh bread and sometimes other sundries but she never stopped to chat with anyone. She doubted that even her closest neighbours knew that she worked for Gus.

Martha didn't mind the solitude though and talked to Hope constantly, even though she couldn't answer back.

She knew that people were probably talking about her, for Martha knew how gossip spread and she somehow doubted that Mrs Needham, as sweet as she was, could keep a secret. Martha didn't mind. Let the gossips say what they wanted; she knew the truth.

Although she wanted to know how her family, Mrs Lassiter and even sometimes, Lucien were, she hadn't written to Mrs Lassiter since sending the money back because she feared that the housekeeper would tell Lucien and she couldn't bear it if he turned up again and ruined another situation for her. She was happy, she was settled. She was fine.

Chapter Six

Lucien's life consisted solely of work and study. He had virtually taken over the running of the estate from his father and when he was finished, he read books and composed letters to his academic friends.

His mother organised many parties and secured him invitations to many more but he refused as many as he could. He felt that if he couldn't have the woman he wanted, he would have no one. Besides, all the women he met paled in comparison to Martha.

His mother was worried about him but his father thought that he was finally growing up and taking responsibility for his life.

Neither were correct. Lucien was waiting. He felt like a child again and that if he only believed it enough, Martha would come back to him.

His mother took to throwing women into his path in the hopes that he would like one of them. The scandal with the housemaid was well known in society but it was also well known that men had needs that women didn't and so they were willing to forgive him his little indiscretion.

At least once a month his mother would invite a young woman and her family to dine with them, always seating the lady next to Lucien. Sometimes he sulked, hardly saying a word but occasionally, annoyed by his mothers interfering, he took pleasure in baiting them, asking questions which he knew were inappropriate for a young lady to answer and asking for their opinion of subjects upon which he knew they were unlikely to have an opinion.

Tonight was another such dinner and his mother had scolded him earlier for his actions and pleaded with him to be nice to this one.

“
If you did not parade them in front of me like some slave at auction, I would have no reason to be unkind to them.”

His mother left shaking her head.

That evening the young lady in question was indeed very pretty, with chestnut hair like Martha's and green eyes, though hers did not shine with the same intelligence that Martha's had. He liked that she reminded him of Martha and for some strange reason, that made him even more disagreeable than usual.

She was introduced to him as Lady Elizabeth Mountbatten and she curtseyed demurely. He hated how she kept her eyes downcast and hardly ever looked at him.

“
Did you have a pleasant journey?” he asked, escorting her to a sofa where they might talk.

“
Oh yes, thank you.”

“
I suppose you came by carriage since the railway doesn't come this far.”

“
Yes, by carriage.” She glanced up at him very briefly with a shy smile, then quickly looked away.

“
I think the railways are a marvellous invention, don't you?”

“
I don't know, I have never been on a rail journey.”

“
But surely you must read the papers, you must know how they are helping our economy?”

“
I do not read a paper, sir. Mother says that it is unladylike.”

“
And do you always do everything your mother tells you?”

“
Of course. She is my mother.”

“
And what if you disagree with her?”

“
I don't understand.”

“
Surely you must have some independent thoughts.”

“
I suppose so but I always obey my parents.” She smiled at him, obviously thinking that this would make her a good wife.

“
That must make for a rather dull dinner table,” he said.

“
I'm sorry?”

“
Well, with everyone agreeing, whatever do you find to talk about over dinner?”

“
Well, my father enjoys hearing about my embroidery and sketching.”

“
And is that how you spend your days, embroidering things and drawing sketches that no one outside your family will ever get to see?”

“
I... I am quite accomplished, sir. I can play the piano and speak French.”

“
Accomplished? How wonderful. I assume that you enjoy the classics then?”

“
I-”

“
Greek mythology was always a favourite of mine. Such heroism, such bravery, and of course such wonderful villains.”

“
I have never read any Greek mythology,” she admitted in a small voice.

“
Oh, well surely you will have read the philosophers then. Marcus Aurelius, Seneca the Younger and the like?”

“
No, Sir.”

“
So you do not have a single opinion of your own, you never disagree with your parents and your reading doesn't seem to extend beyond childhood books. I wonder that you consider yourself ready for marriage when it seems that you are unable to even form an opinion. Indeed I believe that you are so unworldly and infantilised that you are not even fit to be called an adult.”

She looked up at him without even any anger in her eyes, only hurt, then she ran from the room, her mother quickly following after her.

His own mother glared at him but didn't dare rebuke him in public.

Lucien did feel a little guilty for hurting the girl but when she returned a few minutes later, clearly happy to be subjected to more abuse in the hope of making a 'good' marriage, he stopped feeling guilty. For if she did not respect herself, then why should he.

He didn't question her any further though; he had proved his point so he simply sat quietly, amusing himself by answering any questions put to him with as few words as possible.

When their guests left, his mother rebuked him though his father remained silent. Perhaps knowing what it was like to share your life with a 'proper lady' had given his father a little empathy with his son, or perhaps he simply couldn't be bothered to get involved. Either way, his mother soon gave up, informing him that she was washing her hands of him, though they both knew that in another few weeks she would be inviting another young woman to dine.

Lucien headed to bed, though he was far from tired. He dismissed his valet, removed his jacket, tie and waistcoat and then out took his journal and began writing. His journals were his only outlet for his emotions since Martha had left. Mrs Lassiter was a good woman and she cared about him but they were not confidants in that way that he and Martha had been.

Most of his entries were addressed to her in the form of letters and sometimes he could almost hear her reply. Tonight he could hear her voice rebuke him for having taunted Elizabeth earlier and go on to explain that the girl was a product of her upbringing and no more able to change who she was that a fish was able to fly.

“
And what gives you your strength?” he asked aloud.

'It's simple,'
he could hear her answer.
'If I were not this strong, like some of my siblings I would not have survived.'

“
I miss you,” he said.

He couldn't hear her reply.

Gus entered the house in a foul mood and slammed the door behind him.

“
Bloody Edward!” he yelled.

Martha scooped Hope up from the floor where she was playing and went out to meet him.

“
Hello to you too,” she smiled.

“
'Lo Uncle Gus.” Hope said. At just two years old she was already developing quite a vocabulary.

“
Hello darling,” he said, holding his arms out for the girl. He held her tightly for a few moments and Martha could almost see the tension drain out of him.

“
What's he been up to this time?” Martha asked, for complaints about Edward, his newest but best salesman, were constant.

“
Buggered up an order again. Le Petite swears they ordered one thousand units and that's what their paperwork says, Edward's paperwork says three thousand so of course that's what we made, sent and invoiced for.”

“
So you've got two thousand units and no buyer,” she sighed.

“
Exactly.”

“
Well I've already told you what I think,” she said. She thought that Edward was upping the orders to increase his commission.

“
But his commission is always docked when it comes to light,” Gus argued as he settled in his chair by the fire and took the drink Martha handed him. She sat in the chair next to him while Hope settled on the carpet and began building her wooden block tower again.

“
He must have some kind of problem,” Martha said. “A gambling problem or a drink habit or even a mistress and when he needs cash, he invents these massive orders to get the commission. You've got what, nearly ten thousand items now that you can't sell?”

“
We sold a few thousand to other vendors at cost price.”

“
But that means that you aren't making a profit on those units and the stores who bought them will order less frequently,” she said.

“
Have you got a better idea?” he asked. “They're just taking up space in the warehouse so it's better to make something back from them.

“
Actually I do have a better idea. First, fire Edward. I know he's your best salesman but he's also costing you money now with these over-orders.”

Gus usually argued with her but this time he just nodded. He was quickly reaching the same conclusion himself.

“
And second?” he asked,

“
Second, start your own shop. Aldercott is a respected name and you could open one or two flagship stores. It would increase the volume you sell and give you an outlet for this additional stock that you have.”

“
But shops?” he asked. “I've never done retail before.”

“
I know but I think it's worth looking into. You wouldn't need a large unit, you should keep it small and classy; exclusive. Plus I'm certain that you could get some customer orders that way, special pieces made to order for select clients. Not only would it boost your image, it would make your gloves even more desirable. Imagine if you could get a commission from an aristocrat, a politician or a wealthy businessman? Just think how your gloves would become the topic of conversation in every drawing room in Penchester!”

“
You've given this a lot of thought,” he said, eyeing her over the rim of his glass.

“
I have. In fact I read in the paper today that the Duke of Wessex is coming to Penchester this winter and planning a large Christmas ball. Imagine if you made a gift of two such pairs of custom made gloves to the Duke and Duchess, you'd be the talk of the whole county, maybe even the whole country!”

The Duke and Duchess were perfect since the Duke was aristocracy but his wife was from a very wealthy family and so they combined the best of both worlds; social validation from him and access to other wealthy families through her connections.

Gus didn't comment any further but Martha was used to his ways by now; it meant that he was thinking it over and would bring it up again in a day or two, either to tell her the problems with her idea or that he thought that she was right.

“
I'll get dinner ready,” she said. “Come and join me in a few minutes.”

Gus was quiet for the rest of that evening and when he came home the next night, his mood was much improved.

They settled by the study fire as usual and Martha prepared his drink and handed it to him.

“
I spoke with a few people about your idea today,” he said. “The reception was quite good.”

Martha smiled. He had done so much to help her and Hope that she was pleased to be able to repay him in some small way.

“
Which idea,” she asked.

“
Both, actually. Myers especially thinks that the shop is an excellent way to boost sales and that some stores will even start visiting us to see our wares and place their orders.”

“
So you won't have to pay commission to a salesman?”

“
Exactly! Unfortunately he thinks, and I have to agree, that London is the only place for our flagship shop, though we could open slightly less extravagant ones all around the country.”

London was quite a distance away but she supposed that he could leave someone else in charge of the shop.

“
As for starting a custom service, or I'm told it's called, haute couture, that was also well received but unfortunately we don't seem to have design staff with enough imagination. We have some very talented seamstresses but they lack the necessary skills to design something extraordinary.”

Martha opened her mouth, then hesitated for a moment.

“
What?” he asked.

“
Well, they're probably no good but I have some sketches that you could look at.”

“
Well go and get them,” he encouraged. They certainly couldn't be any worse than the few sketches he had seen today, he thought.