Heir to Greyladies (10 page)

‘We can’t expose her to danger like that, William.’ Joseph’s mother blushed.

‘I don’t know what the modern world’s coming to,’ he grumbled. ‘All I know is she can’t stay here unless she agrees to do as your mother wishes. I won’t keep a disobedient servant, no matter what.’

Joseph realised it was more a matter of saving face for his father than of looking after Harriet or seeing she was
treated fairly, which didn’t surprise him. His parents were perfectly happy to let the stepmother continue taking most of their maid’s wages.

What could he do to help her, though? He was as helpless as she was in many ways.

Or he had been. What Harriet had said today had given him hope. He did have things he could sell, some of them quite valuable. Maybe they would bring him enough to buy a small house somewhere. Pollins wouldn’t mind that, he was sure. The older he got, the more Pollins had relaxed with him. In fact, his manservant and Harriet were the only people who treated him like a normal human being instead of a freak.

Perhaps Harriet could come with them as the maid? Would she do that?

All he could decide at the moment was that if his father was going to start laying down the law and enforcing it with threats, he’d have to have a plan in mind for leaving home at a moment’s notice.

His feelings for his father, never warm, had grown much cooler lately and had worsened again after the recent bullying of Harriet.

He wondered what she was doing at the moment? Had Mrs Stuart persuaded her to accept a compromise and stay?

Mrs Stuart came into Harriet’s bedroom, not commenting on the suitcase. She sat on the bed and patted the space beside her.

Harriet sat down, sighing.

‘Do you really want to leave Dalton House?’

‘No, of course not.’

Then you’re going to have to accept a compromise.’

‘But it’s not right.’

‘No, it’s not. But life isn’t always fair, as you’ve already found out. I’ve been thinking, though. What if I write to your stepmother and say that you don’t have enough wages left to buy decent clothes and she’ll have to let you keep more of the money each quarter?’

‘She won’t care about my clothes.’

‘She might care if I said we couldn’t continue employing you unless you were dressed decently.’

‘She’d still get some of my money.’

‘I know. But it’s the best I can do. And she won’t know about the rise in wages, will she?’

Harriet let the silence continue. She’d have to agree to this, but she wasn’t jumping at it, wasn’t going to pretend she liked it.

‘Is it agreed, then?’

She let her voice go sulky. ‘What choice do I have?’

‘None. Good girl. Now, unpack that suitcase and come back to work.’

When Mrs Stuart had left the room, Harriet unpacked quickly. She hesitated over the five pounds Mr Joseph had given her, then hid it in a rolled up old stocking in her drawer. She’d keep it for a while. Just in case.

As the weeks passed, the atmosphere at Dalton House continued strained, because Joseph remained at odds with his family. There had been several loud arguments with his father, who was still trying to compel him to marry Geraldine.

For a person like him to leave home took some thinking about, because he had never lived anywhere else but Dalton House, but he was thinking about it now, very seriously indeed. Planning for it.

Then they heard that Selwyn had incurred some more debts. Mr Dalton was forced to place an advertisement in
The Times
stating that the family would no longer be responsible for the debts of Mr Selwyn Dalton.

He turned on Joseph in an absolute fury after that. ‘
You
could have made this unnecessary if you’d only be sensible and marry Geraldine.’

‘Marry to pay my brother’s debts? Never.’

In the middle of January, the mail was brought to the breakfast table, as usual, for the master to distribute.

‘There’s a letter for Harriet.’ He picked it up, staring
at it as if it was poisonous. ‘And it’s from some lawyers, Harrington and Lloyd of Swindon. See!’ He showed his wife the envelope, which had the name of the sender neatly embossed on the back flap of the envelope.

He turned it over in his hands several times. ‘Do you think I should open it?’

Joseph stared at him in amazement. ‘It’s not addressed to you, Father.’

‘It’s come to my house.’

‘I don’t think you should open it, dear,’ Mrs Dalton said.

Joseph added what he considered a clinching argument. ‘In any case, it’s unlawful to open somebody else’s letters without their permission.’

‘Then we’ll get her permission.’ Mr Dalton picked up the handbell from beside his plate and rang it loudly, scowling at his son.

It was Harriet who came in and stood waiting for instructions.

‘Ah. Just the person I wanted to see. I have a letter here for you.’ Mr Dalton held it out but didn’t let her take it from his hand. ‘I’m going to open it for you, because it’s from some lawyers and you won’t understand the language. Though why lawyers would be writing to
you
, I cannot understand. I hope you’re not in trouble.’

While his father was speaking, Joseph got up from his chair and moved to the head of the table, snatching the envelope. ‘I think Harriet can open her own letters, Father.’ He passed it to her.

She immediately put it into her apron pocket, wondering what to say to the master, who was looking angry.

‘Your father was only trying to help, Joseph,’ Mrs Dalton
said quickly. ‘Harriet, once you’ve read the letter, if you have any difficulty understanding it, my husband will be happy to help you. Now, could you please bring us a fresh pot of tea, please?’

When the maid had left the room, Mr Dalton turned to his son, his face red with anger, his eyes bulging. ‘If you
ever
do anything like that again, I’ll throw you out of the house.’

‘You won’t need to. That was the final straw and I’m leaving.’

They both gaped at him and the silence continued for a few moments.

Then Mr Dalton gave a scornful laugh. ‘Leaving! How can you possibly do that? You haven’t got enough money to live on. And how would you manage on your own? I’ve made sure Pollins won’t go with you. He knows which side his bread is buttered on.’

Which explained a lot about why his manservant had been looking unhappy lately and trying to persuade him to do as his father wished. Joseph felt his own anger rise to meet his father’s. ‘That’s a dirty trick. But it won’t stop me going. I can leave on my own.’

‘Try it. You’ll soon come running back. You have little experience of the world outside this house. Though maybe it’ll do you good to suffer a bit. Maybe then you’ll let those wiser than you guide your actions.’

‘I’m not as stupid as you seem to think, Father. I’m sure I shall manage reasonably well, particularly since I’m not a spendthrift like my brother Selwyn.’

‘You don’t know anything about managing in the world out there. Haven’t you been listening to me? Your money will run out within a couple of years at best. And in cheap
lodgings you won’t have the comforts you have here, or a library full of books. You’ll be bored and friendless.’

Joseph didn’t mention the jewellery. ‘I’ll manage the money very frugally, believe me.’ A sense of relief flowed through him as the decision was taken. ‘Nothing you say will change my mind. I’m not a child and I refuse to be treated as one.’

‘Go, then. You’ll regret it and beg to return – and it’ll be under the same conditions.’

Mrs Dalton burst into tears and turned on her husband. ‘Don’t do this, William.’

He drew himself up even more stiffly. ‘I can see that I need to remind both of you that
I
am master here and I intend to remain so until the day I die.’

Joseph rolled his chair towards the door without another word.

‘Don’t forget to leave that chair behind when you go,’ his father yelled after him. ‘It belongs to me.’

‘William, this is beyond reason!’ his wife pleaded.

Joseph stopped to look back at her. ‘It’s all right, Mama. I may look ungainly when I walk, but I can move around tolerably well. I won’t take anything of yours, Father, I promise. I hope you enjoy using the chair.’

‘I also own the books in the library.’

‘Except for the ones that have been given to me as presents, of course. They aren’t yours, and I know exactly which ones I own.’ Joseph continued on his way, glad that the need to roll the chair along hid the way his hands were shaking.

He could hear his mother sobbing as he moved towards the stairs and got out of his wheelchair.

He couldn’t hear his father comforting her, as usually happened.

He didn’t deserve the scorn and bullying, wouldn’t put up with them. His father had even taken from him the manservant who had looked after him since childhood, who had carried him up and down the stairs, sat up with him night after night. And refusing to let him take the wheelchair was petty in the extreme.

What threat had made Pollins refuse to come with him?

When she left the drawing room Harriet stopped to listen to the quarrel, praying they wouldn’t drive Mr Joseph away. She couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing him again.

And sadly, Mr Dalton was right. His son had no experience of the world, would be an easy target for villains and cheats.

It suddenly came to her that if Mr Joseph left, there was nothing to keep her here, so she’d run away too. This was the only home she’d known. Only … the main reason she loved being here was because of Mr Joseph.

Yes, she’d go too. But if she went, she wouldn’t dare leave openly in case the master carried out his threat to take her back to her stepmother.

When Mr Joseph came out of the drawing room, she didn’t attempt to hide the fact that she’d been eavesdropping.

‘Come into the library,’ he mouthed.

She nodded and followed him, closing the door quietly behind them. ‘Are you really going to leave, Mr Joseph?’

‘Yes. My father has left me no alternative.’

‘I’m coming with you, then. You’ll need someone to help you and he said Pollins wouldn’t come.’

‘I can’t ask you to do that. You’d lose your job.’

‘I’m not staying anyway if your father even expects to
open my letters.’ That reminded her and she pulled the letter out of her pocket, staring at it.

‘Open it. I’ll move over to the window and leave you in peace, then you can tell me what it’s about or not, as you choose.’

She picked up the silver letter opener from the desk and slit the envelope neatly along the top. Inside it was one sheet of paper. She read it, frowned, then read it again, shaking her head in bafflement.

When she looked up, Mr Joseph was watching her, waiting.

She walked across the room and held the letter out to him. ‘Your father was right. I don’t understand what this means. Why would anyone leave me a legacy?’

He took the letter and read it quickly, then like her, he read it again more slowly.

‘Can you guess who it might be?’

She shook her head. ‘There’s no one with anything to leave me, now that my father’s property has gone to my stepmother.’

‘Then you must go and see these lawyers and find out what this is about. It may be good news.’

She put the paper into her apron pocket. ‘I doubt it. Anyway, it can wait a day or two. More important at the moment is what you’re going to do, Mr Joseph. How will you manage without Pollins? Or your wheelchair?’

‘I can manage in the short term, but I’ll have to buy another wheelchair and hire another manservant if my father won’t relent—’

He broke off as something else occurred to him. ‘I don’t even know whether they’ll let me have the carriage. If not I’ll have to hire transport from the village. Only, how can I do that? And afterwards, where shall I go? A hotel, I suppose.’

‘There’s one near the railway station in Reading, just across the road from it. I saw it when I came here.’ She had a quick think. ‘You can hire the trap from the village inn. I can bribe the gardener’s lad to nip into the village and tell them.’

Joseph looked at her, his eyes sad. ‘It’s a poor lookout when a grown man doesn’t even know how to leave home, isn’t it?’

‘That’s why you’ll need me. You will let me be your maid, won’t you?’

‘It wouldn’t be fair to you, much as I’d welcome your help. People would get the wrong impression.’

‘I don’t mind that. I shall know we’re doing nothing wrong.’

‘You’re absolutely certain you’re going to leave here?’

‘Oh, yes. I only stayed because you were still here.’ He’d been as lonely as she had, but they’d had each other.

‘You’ve been the best part of my life for a while now, Harriet. You mean a lot to me.’

They had never spoken so frankly. She smiled, treasuring his words, then glanced at the clock. ‘I daren’t talk to you
for much longer or they’ll get angry with me. I’ll come to join you at the hotel tomorrow morning. I’ll have to leave here during the night and catch the milk train to Reading.’

‘Why during the night?’

‘Your father threatened to take me back to my stepmother himself.’

‘That was a while ago.’

‘He meant it and he’s very angry about all sorts of things, so I’m sure he’d still do it.’

‘How will you get to the station?’

‘I’ll walk.’

She heard his mother’s voice in the hall and looked at him in dismay.

‘Hide behind the curtains in the bay window,’ he said quickly.

She barely had time to conceal herself before the door opened.

Mrs Dalton came in and held out one hand, saying in a throbbing voice, ‘Joseph, you can’t do this to me.’

‘I can’t stay here now, Mama. Father has made that impossible.’

She pressed her handkerchief to her eyes for a moment, then said in a muffled voice, ‘Your father’s right about one thing: you don’t have enough money to live on.’

‘I’ve been planning it for a while and I’ve worked out what to do, how to manage.’

‘Tell me or I’ll worry.’

‘If I do that, you’ll end up telling Father, because he’ll nag you till you do. You know you can never stand up to him.’ He looked beyond her. ‘And if you want to hold a private conversation, it’s always better to close the door. Now, I
have to go up to my room and start packing. I wonder if Pollins will be allowed to pack for me, and if I’ll be allowed to use the carriage to take me to the railway station?’

She mopped her eyes. ‘You’re leaving because of a disobedient chit of a maid and that stupid letter of hers?’

He forced a light laugh, not wanting Harriet to suffer. ‘This isn’t because of Harriet, Mama.’

‘Then why are you leaving? Your father’s more upset about this than you realise. If you’d only apologise, he’d be quite happy to let you stay.’

‘I’ve been considering how to leave for a while. And I think once the dust settles, we shall all be happier if I’m off your hands. I’m well aware that my father considers me a freak.’

He could see the sadness in her eyes at that and she didn’t try to deny it. ‘I’ll be all right, Mama. And I promise to get in touch with you once I’m settled.’

She sat down on a chair and began sobbing bitterly. He had to comfort her before he could leave, but eventually managed to coax her upstairs to have a lie down.

All the time, he was conscious of Harriet listening behind the curtains. Would she really follow him to the hotel? Could she manage to escape? He didn’t dare offer to take any of her luggage with his because the other servants might notice and report that to his father.

Harriet was right: he did need help. But it wasn’t just that. She’d had become a necessary part of his life. Only now was he becoming aware that his feelings for her were more than those of a friend.

Could she think of him in that way?

This wasn’t the time to consider that. He must be practical and get ready to leave.

He’d insist she go to the lawyer’s in Swindon before they settled anywhere. Yes, they should definitely do that first. The legacy might give her a little more money to live on, make her life easier.

But how to keep her safe afterwards? Legally, she was still a minor, as his parents had pointed out. Would this stepmother come after her? No. Why should she?

But just in case, they must keep their final destination secret.

Once Mr Joseph and his mother had left the library, Harriet left her hiding place and hurried to the kitchen.

‘Where on earth have you been?’ Cook demanded. ‘Mrs Stuart’s looking for you and she’s not in a good mood.’

‘I was upstairs mending my hem. I caught it on my heel and it looked awful.’