A Mother's Wish (46 page)

‘I was never more certain of anything. Please let me go, Frank.’

He hesitated for a brief moment and his eyes burned with desire. ‘One last kiss, my love.’ He jerked her roughly into his arms, stifling her protest with a kiss. His teeth grazed her lips and his tongue probed her mouth. She struggled but her efforts to free herself only served to excite his passion.

Dimly she heard the sound of a door opening and footsteps reverberating on the floorboards. Suddenly she was free as Frank was dragged away from her and thrown to the floor.

SEYMOUR HAD FRANK
by the throat and he dragged him to his feet, but his grip was easily broken by a man used to manual labour. Frank drew back his clenched fist and was about to land a punch on Seymour’s jaw when Effie threw herself in between them. ‘Don’t hit him, Frank.’

‘What’s going on?’ Seymour demanded breathlessly. ‘I come home to find this oaf treating you like a common doxy.’

‘I dunno who you are, mate,’ Frank said belligerently, ‘but no one calls Effie names when I’m around.’

‘Frank,’ Effie said, holding him back with her hands on his chest, ‘this is Mr Westlake, the owner of Marsh House.’

‘I don’t care if he’s the Lord Mayor of London. No one calls Frank Tinsley an oaf.’

Seymour picked up his hat, which had been knocked off his head in the struggle. ‘I speak as I find, and you were molesting this young woman in my house.’

Frank shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘Effie
and me, well, we was more than friends not so long ago.’

Effie could tell by Seymour’s ominous expression that this admission had only made matters worse, and she laid her hand on Seymour’s arm. ‘Frank drove me and Georgie home from Bow last night when we got caught up in the pea-souper.’

‘That’s as maybe, but it doesn’t explain why he is still here in the morning or why he was forcing his attentions on you.’

‘I got carried away, guvner,’ Frank said gruffly. ‘I still got feelings for Effie, but she would have none of it, and I slept in a room that was like the inside of a circus tent.’

‘You slept in my room?’ Seymour’s mouth worked as if he was struggling to keep his temper.

‘Nellie locked him in,’ Effie said hastily. ‘We didn’t know you would be coming home today. We’d heard nothing from you for six months, and what Frank hasn’t told you is that he’s promised to testify against Salter. He’s going to help us get Toby out of jail.’

‘This is all too much for me, Effie,’ Seymour said wearily. ‘I’ve been travelling for weeks and I’m bone weary.’ He eyed Frank with a hint of a smile in his dark eyes. ‘If I was mistaken, I apologise, but I didn’t expect to
enter my home and find Effie grappling with a stranger.’

Frank nodded his head, holding out his hand. ‘No hard feelings, sir. I’d have done the same in your place.’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ Effie exclaimed. ‘Can’t you men settle anything without using your fists first and asking questions later?’

‘You’re right, of course, and I should know better.’ Seymour shook Frank’s hand. ‘Will you join me for breakfast? I’d like to hear what you have to say.’

‘Aye, sir, I’d be honoured.’

‘I could light a fire in the morning parlour if you want to talk privately,’ Effie suggested, hoping that Seymour would opt for the kitchen where she could hear their conversation without eavesdropping. There were many questions she wanted to ask but they would have to wait until Frank had left the house.

‘We’ll eat in the kitchen,’ Seymour replied, shrugging off his greatcoat and dropping it on the oak settle by the door. ‘I’m chilled to the bone and the ride from Bow has given me an appetite.’

Effie stared at him, her curiosity aroused. ‘You came from Bow?’

Seymour smiled and his eyes crinkled at the corners. She could almost imagine that it was Toby standing there in the dimly lit hallway
and her heart gave an uncomfortable thud against her ribs. But if Seymour noticed her discomfort he gave nothing away by his expression. ‘It was too foggy to find my way home so I put up at the Prince of Wales. Your friend the innkeeper was only too pleased to tell me all about your heroic efforts to keep the wolf from the door. I’m proud of you, Effie, but I’m home now and you don’t have to bear the burden of my run-down estate any longer.’

His reassuring words came as a relief after months of hard work and worry, and she did not know whether to laugh or cry. ‘Let me go into the kitchen first. You might give poor Nellie a heart attack if you walk in unannounced.’

Nellie’s reactions were predictable. She scolded Seymour, she cried and then she laughed, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him as if he were one of her errant sons returning home after years of absence. Frank stood back, twisting his cap awkwardly between his hands, and Effie could see that he was eager to get away from what he obviously considered to be a madhouse. She served them with their breakfast of porridge, and she sat by the fire toasting bread while they ate and talked about the evidence Frank would give at Toby’s appeal. Georgie sat quietly on his stool by the fire, eating
buttered toast and eyeing the men warily, while Nellie flitted about keeping their mugs filled with tea. Each time she passed Seymour she touched his sleeve or his shoulder as if to make sure that he was real and not a figment of her imagination.

Finally, shaking hands on their arrangement to visit the offices of the solicitor in Lincoln’s Inn Fields in two days’ time, Seymour insisted that Jeffries should drive Frank back to Bow.

Half an hour later in the lane at the front of the house, Frank took Effie’s hand and squeezed it gently. ‘We was good together for a time, girl.’

‘It would never have worked, Frank, and you still have a wife who might come back to you one day, and a child who needs its father.’

He leaned over to brush her cheek with a kiss. ‘I won’t forget you, Effie. And if you ever change your mind . . .’

‘Take care of yourself, Frank, and give my love to Leah and Zilla and everyone. Tell them I’ll come and see them as soon as the weather improves.’

Frank smiled, tipped his cap to Seymour and climbed up on the driver’s seat beside Jeffries. Effie shivered, wrapping her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. The fog had lifted but a damp, grey mist hung over
the marshes and the only sound apart from the rumble of the cart wheels and the clip-clopping of Champion’s hooves was the mournful cry of a curlew.

‘That was some homecoming,’ Seymour said, relaxing at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. ‘It’s lucky I walked in when I did, Effie.’

‘I don’t think Frank would have harmed me,’ Effie said stoutly. ‘He’s not a bad man, but he lets his feelings get the better of him at times.’

‘Well, he’s doing the right thing by Toby, so I’ll have to let him off.’ Seymour put his tea down and bent over to ruffle Georgie’s curls. ‘Have you forgotten me, young man? I’m going to be your grandpa.’

Nellie uttered a screech that might have been of pleasure or pain. ‘I never thought I’d live to hear you say that, master.’

‘It took me long enough to acknowledge my own flesh and blood, and Effie is going to marry my son, so I hope I may fill that gap in Georgie’s life caused by the loss of his grandfather.’

His words made her happy, but even so tiny fingers of doubt clutched at Effie’s heart. ‘Toby may have changed. He might not want to marry me now.’

‘Nonsense, girl. What a lot of balderdash
you talk at times. Why would he not want a woman like you? You’re beautiful and clever and you’ve struggled to keep your family together. Why, if he won’t marry you – I damned well will.’ Seymour threw back his head and laughed. ‘Don’t look so alarmed, my dear Effie. I’m teasing you, of course.’ He rose to his feet, holding his hand out to Georgie. ‘Come and help me find my travelling bag, young man. I’ve brought you a Christmas present.’

Shyly, Georgie slipped his small hand into Seymour’s. ‘Grandpa?’ he murmured.

‘What a bright little fellow you are,’ Seymour said with obvious delight. ‘Grandpa it is, my boy. Now let’s go and get your present. There might be one for your mama and for Nellie too.’

Effie watched them leave the kitchen with a lump in her throat. It was hard to believe that Seymour was the same man who had terrified her by his drunken and drugged attentions when she first arrived at Marsh House. She had fallen in love with Frank, but he had turned out to be quite a different person from the man of her dreams. Then there was Toby, the friend who had always been there for her in time of need; the genie of the lamp who had appeared when matters were desperate. She had taken him for granted
then; accepting him at face value as an amusing libertine and a gypsy rover, when she now knew he was none of those things. Or was he? Would his time of incarceration in that dreadful jail have changed him? Would he still want to settle down with a ready-made family when he was released? She could not be sure of anything, but she managed a smile as Georgie raced into the room clutching a wooden horse, beautifully carved with a real horsehair mane and tail. ‘Gee-gee,’ he chortled. ‘Mama, gee-gee.’

Effie bent down to examine it. ‘He’s beautiful, darling. What are you going to call him?’

‘Champion,’ Georgie said without a moment’s hesitation.

Seymour had followed him more slowly, and he presented Effie with the most exquisite shawl she had ever seen. The black, gossamer-sheer material was embroidered with crimson roses nestling amongst green leaves and edged with a pure silk fringe. ‘For you, Effie,’ he said simply. ‘I believe it’s Spanish. I saw ladies wearing similar shawls on my travels. I fell in love with Argentina the moment I set foot on land.’ He wrapped another and far more practical shawl around Nellie’s thin shoulders. ‘This will keep the winter chills from your bones, Nellie, my dear.’

‘It’s like a cobweb, master,’ she whispered, rubbing her cheeks against the deep blue lacy folds. ‘It’s the best present I ever had.’

Effie fingered the embroidery on her shawl. ‘It’s lovely. Thank you, sir.’

‘Seymour,’ he said softly. ‘How many times have I got to tell you that, Effie?’

‘I’m sorry – Seymour. I’ll try to remember.’ Effie sat down beside Georgie, who was totally absorbed in his new toy. ‘Tell us what happened in Argentina. We’d almost given you up for dead.’

‘I’m not much of a hand at letter writing, and I’m afraid Toby takes after me in that respect. You haven’t heard from him, I suppose?’

‘Not a word.’

‘He might not be allowed to write letters, but all that will change soon.’

‘You have funds to pay for a lawyer, sir? I mean, Seymour.’

‘My friend Forster had invested my money and his in a silver mine. It had taken some time to get the operation going but now the mine is beginning to show a profit. I’m not a wealthy man, but I can afford to hire one of the best lawyers in London to put Toby’s case for an appeal.’

‘You will stay at home though, master?’ Nellie peered over the edge of her shawl
with an anxious frown. ‘You won’t go away again?’

‘I shall stay until matters are settled here, but then I intend to return to Argentina. The life out there suits me and I find I am accepted as a human being and not as some freak with a pockmarked face.’

‘But what about Marsh House?’ Effie could hardly frame the words. ‘Will you sell your home?’

Seymour shook his head. ‘I’ll return every now and then, but I intend to sign over the deeds to my son. I can’t make him legitimate, more’s the pity, but I can make certain that Toby gets what is rightfully his. You will be mistress of Marsh House, my dear Effie.’

‘Maybe, or maybe not,’ Effie said slowly. ‘None of us knows what Toby feels and you haven’t even thought to ask him whether he wants to settle down here. People change, as I’ve learned to my cost. I’ll only believe that Toby still wants to marry me when I hear it from his lips.’

Seymour put the wheels in motion for an appeal and there was little they could do other than wait for the case to be heard. Effie busied herself with brewing and selling ale, and the cider that Toby and Jeffries had made having resurrected the old cider press. Seymour was
impressed with their efforts and he was generous with his praise. He applauded Tom for the energy he had put into growing crops and he gave him permission to work the land as he saw fit. The days of pleasure gardens had gone, Seymour said regretfully. Times were hard in the country and every acre of land should be utilised for the production of food. He suggested that they should rebuild the old pigsty and keep a pig or two as well as the goats, and perhaps add a cow to their livestock in order to provide milk, butter and hard cheese. If things went well they might even hire a dairymaid.

To Effie’s intense surprise, Seymour seemed keen on returning the land to farming and Tom was delighted with the idea. She said nothing; if Tom was happy then so was she, and more food on the table with surplus to sell could only be a good thing. She went about her daily tasks with renewed vigour, and she was filled with nervous anticipation when, at the end of February, a letter came from Seymour’s lawyer to announce the date of the court hearing.

Next morning Seymour left for the city, where he intended to lodge in a hotel near the law courts until the case was heard. He kissed Effie, promising her that he would return bringing his son with him. ‘You will be a
spring bride, my dear,’ he said, taking out his wallet. ‘Have a new dress made, and I don’t mean a drab everyday gown. You must have something to bring out the colour of your eyes and that glorious sunshine hair.’ He pressed a crisp five-pound note into her hand. ‘It will be your wedding dress, my dear brave girl. I couldn’t wish for anyone better to be my daughter-in-law.’ Without giving her a chance to answer, he mounted his horse and rode off towards town.

Effie could not settle. She immersed herself in her work, going out alone on the cart with her barrels of ale and cider while Tom worked hard tilling the fields and sowing seeds. When she was neither brewing nor selling, she threw herself into the spring cleaning. She wanted everything to be perfect when Toby came home and she did her best to make the house into the sort of home he remembered as a boy, and one that he would never want to leave. She ordered a new gown from a dressmaker in Bow that Betty recommended, but being thrifty by nature Effie chose taffeta rather than silk and English lace rather than the more expensive variety imported from Brussels. She spent the rest of the money in the saleroom, purchasing furniture to fill the empty bedrooms and comfortable chairs and a sofa
for the drawing room. Everything was second hand, but Effie was not proud and she was happy with her choices.