A Carriage for the Midwife (19 page)

It was too bad of Henry – unless of course he was talking with her parents at this very moment. Ah, yes, maybe that was it! She lifted her skirts to run up the stairs to the drawing room, where a minuet was being played.

There were only three couples on the floor – good heavens, that Bennett girl was still hanging on to the parson’s son! – and Sophy must have gone for a belated supper, for the piano was deserted.

Mrs Bennett nudged her companion. ‘Look over there, Margaret.’

The shock on Selina’s face when she realised that Henry was dancing with her cousin was a sight to remember. At first she told herself that he was just being kind, and regretted her earlier remarks about Sophy’s spinster status and good works. She would tell him that she had not meant any spite by it, and might even say she was sorry.

But then she saw him looking at Sophia as if he could not take his eyes from her face. When their hands touched in the course of the dance, he raised hers to his lips in an impulsive movement, the gesture of a lover.

Selina Calthorpe was not in the picture.

Mrs Bennett nodded significantly at her companion. She would have a fine tale to tell Sally on her next visit to Pulhurst!

Leaving Polly sleeping, Susan made her way back to the room allocated to the Bennett ladies. Weary and dispirited, she braced herself to listen to Marianne’s account of the ball.

She had not long to wait. Marianne opened the door and seized her in a rapturous hug.

‘Such company, Susan! Such dancing! It has been the happiest night of my life,’ she exclaimed joyously.

‘Yes, yes, Marianne, you can talk about it later,’ said her mother. ‘Go and fetch your bonnet and cloak, Susan, for we’re going home. There has been a change o’ plan. I’m taking Mrs Smart and Miss Smart home in the three-seater, and Marianne will walk with Mr Simon and Mr Andrew. I shall not be sorry to sleep in my own bed,’ she added, glancing down at the straw mattresses.

Susan saw how the land lay. ‘And am I to return wi’ ye?’ she asked, dismayed at having to desert Polly. Mrs Bennett noticed her anxious look, and realised that the maid would also have to walk; on this occasion the farmer’s wife was inclined to be lenient.

‘You may stay overnight with your sister if you like, Susan, but you must come back at first light.’

‘That I will. Oh, Mrs Bennett, thank ye – an’ I’m glad Miss Marianne enjoyed the ball!’

Susan lay down beside Polly in the crowded room with five Bever maids and two other visiting lady’s maids beside herself, sprawling on straw pallets and sharing blankets.

‘Be ye feelin’ better now, Poll?’ she whispered.

‘Oh, Sukey, Oi done a terrible thing,’ came the reply in a small, flat voice that confirmed Susan’s fears.

‘What’d he do to ye, Poll? Can ye remember?’

‘Some o’ it, not all. Oh, Sukey, Oi be too ashamed to tell ’ee what Oi did!’

Titters arose from the Bever maids, who knew about Polly’s special relationship with young Master Osmond, and Polly began to sob.

‘Oh, Sukey, it be hard fur poor girls who don’t know the fancy ways o’ ladies an’ gen’lemen!’

‘I reckon it ain’t hard to guess what he done!’ mocked a voice in the darkness, followed by more giggles.

‘Hush, Poll, there be no use in talkin’ now, ’tis too late. Just pray that ye be not in trouble.’

She stroked the curly head that lay in the crook of her arm until the sobs turned to gentle snores. Within half an hour all the rest were asleep, and Susan was left to ponder in the darkness over the dangers that lay in wait for her silly little sister, Polly.

But her last thought was of Edward, who had said he would not have her troubled for the world.

And had kissed her so sweetly upon her lips.

A HEAVY CLOUD
of heartbreak and anger hung over Bever House on the Saturday morning following the ball. Mrs Calthorpe kept to her bed, attended by her personal maidservant, Jael Ferris, who also glided into Selina’s darkened room from time to time with wine and water.

Edward had spent a few sleepless hours on his bed, wrestling with his troubled thoughts; his one idea was to declare himself to Susan Lucket and claim her affections. How soon could he ride over to the Bennett farmhouse, and what should he say to the farmer and his wife? Unknowingly he missed an opportunity to speak to Susan alone that morning, for she had woken at daybreak, taken whispered leave of her sister and walked back to the farmhouse with only her confused reflections for company.

For Susan now acknowledged to herself that she loved Edward Calthorpe, and could not deny that his attentions gave her a tremulous joy. How could she not rejoice, knowing she was admired by the man she had worshipped from a distance ever since they were children? Yet Miss Glover’s warning came back to her, not to allow herself to dream of anything more: it would be quite unheard of. And there was her dread that Polly might be in trouble because of Edward’s elder brother. Susan felt nothing but scorn for the man, and had no cause to think highly of the rest of the family, which was another reason why she should not dream of
him
, why she must do as Miss Glover advised, and pray to overcome such forbidden thoughts. And yet . . . the sensation of his lips on hers last night had nothing to do with reason.

At the farm, Marianne greeted her with an ecstatic account of her own triumphant evening at the ball, and equally happy anticipation of courtship to come. Susan’s head ached as the girl prattled on, but she tried to smile and show interest in Mr Smart’s many virtues, until Mrs Bennett suddenly broke in.

‘And how did you find your sister, Susan?’

Susan might have replied politely that Polly was well, but found that she could not speak. Tears filled her eyes, and she could only shake her head. Mrs Bennett gave a sympathetic nod and did not repeat the question, though she put two and two together, and like Susan she made five. If that silly little creature was with child she would be turned out of Bever House, as Jenny Kyte had been, and have nowhere to go but the House of Industry, thought the farmer’s wife. The Calthorpes would never accept any blame for her condition, nor would they offer her a penny of support.

Shortly before noon Marianne’s happiness ended abruptly. A gentleman walking up Bennett’s Lane turned out to be Mr Simon Smart calling to offer his compliments to Mrs and Miss Bennett, but he did not even get over the threshhold. The farmer called out to him from the adjoining field, demanded to know his business and ordered him to turn round and go back to finish his apprenticeship and stay away from a girl who was much too young and foolish to be talking of courtship.

Marianne’s floods of tears plunged the house into gloom, and Mrs Bennett took her up to her room where she comforted her as well as she could. Susan was ordered to take over in the kitchen, filling a basket with bread, cold meat and cheese for the outdoor labourers, along with a large jug of ale, and to take it down to the field where the plough was already turning over the stubble after harvesting.

And this was the situation when Edward Calthorpe arrived. He was shown into the family parlour where he stood hat in hand for a quarter of an hour; nobody seemed to be around but a gaping Bet, who had answered his knock. Susan had caught a distant sight of him riding up the lane on her way back with the empty basket, and her heart leaped with joy and fear and hope and despair – for she knew that it was herself he had come to see. Trembling, she crept in at the kitchen door and stayed there, washing utensils at the stone sink, sending Bet out to fetch more water.

When at length Mrs Bennett entered the parlour, she gave a start at seeing young Calthorpe. Bet had mumbled something about ‘The gen’leman be here,’ and she had assumed him to be Mr Simon. With Marianne’s sobs in her ears, she had put off the moment of encounter, not knowing what she could say.

She apologised for keeping Mr Calthorpe waiting, but when he asked to speak with Susan Lucket, her mouth tightened.

‘We don’t allow our maidservants to spend time alone with gentlemen under our roof, Mr Edward,’ she said, her tone implying that the ban applied as much to Calthorpes as to any others.

‘But I have a need to speak to her, mistress,’ he insisted, wondering how firm he should be if his request was denied.

‘You could have seen her this morning before she returned from Bever House,’ said Mrs Bennett unhelpfully.

He checked an exclamation of annoyance, for he had not known of Susan’s overnight stay.

‘What is your business with her, Mr Edward?’ She made him feel like a schoolboy, but in fact Sarah Bennett was on her guard and, remembering Polly, she faced this young Calthorpe with the distrust she felt towards the whole family.

Edward hesitated. He had come prepared to lay his heart before Susan, but laying it before Mrs Bennett was a different matter. He decided on complete frankness.

‘I have come to tell Miss – to tell Susan – to ask her to marry me when I am able to support her, Mrs Bennett.’

The farmer’s wife reached for the nearest chair and sat down. A Calthorpe talking of marriage to a servant girl!

‘D’your father and mother know?’ she asked.

‘Not yet, mistress. I want to secure Susan’s promise to wait for me. ’Twill be two years before I can start practising as an attorney.’ Edward felt a kind of relief, almost thankfulness, in confiding in a woman who had Susan’s interests at heart.

‘Your honesty does you credit, Mr Edward, but you and the maid are very young. She may not care to be tied to a promise for so long. Besides . . .’

The parson’s son had been dispatched with a flea in his ear, and yet here was a Calthorpe come a-courting their maidservant. The irony of it was not lost on Mrs Bennett.

‘Besides, I have a duty to the maids in my care, Mr Edward.’

‘Then let me tell you, mistress, I love her with all my heart, as God sees and knows.’

It was impossible not to be touched by the words and the way in which he spoke them. Mrs Bennett had to make a decision.

‘I’ll go and tell the girl that you’re here, Mr Edward,’ she said, ‘but if she doesn’t care to hear you, or wants not to be left alone with you, ’twill be as she wishes.’

He bowed his acceptance of this.

When her mistress came in search of her, Susan shook in every limb, and Sarah felt obliged to offer the kind of advice she would give a daughter.

‘Mr Edward seems a civil enough young gentleman, and I believe he means what he says now, Susan – but you are both much too young, and his family would never – I mean he can’t defy his parents on account of you. And with this war on, it’s no time to be making promises that can’t be kept.’

‘Oh, that be just what Miss Glov— what I think meself, Mrs Bennett,’ Susan answered gratefully. ‘But he be the best o’ men, even if I can’t have him,’ she added, leaving Mrs Bennett in no doubt of her true feelings.

‘D’you want to bid him farewell, Susan, or shall I send him away like the farmer sent Mr Simon?’

Susan hastily smoothed her gown and straightened her cap, following her mistress into the parlour. As soon as Edward saw her, he was at her side.

‘Susan – oh, my love – er, good day to you, Miss Lucket,’ he said, catching Mrs Bennett’s warning look.

Susan automatically curtsied. ‘Good day to ye, sir.’

‘Susan knows your errand, Mr Edward,’ said Mrs Bennett. ‘There’s to be no talk o’ promises until the times are better and you’re both older.’

‘But I must speak to her!’ pleaded Edward, looking first at one and then at the other. ‘I have to return to Oxford next week, and cannot go without telling her of my intentions.’

Sarah Bennett decided to be kind.

‘I’d better go and see what that idle girl’s doing in the dairy. It won’t take me more’n five minutes, then I’ll be back,’ she told him with a meaningful glance at the long-case clock on the wall.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Edward seized Susan’s hand and held it to his lips.

‘Dearest Susan, I have come to tell you of my love for you, and to ask if you will wait for me,’ he began, but when she raised her troubled grey eyes to meet his, he could not hold back. His arms went round her as if of their own volition, and he drew her head down against his shoulder. His voice shook as he uttered the words he had rehearsed.

‘A year from now I shall have a degree, Susan, and may then start to practise as a junior attorney – and after another year I’ll be able to take a little home for us in Belhampton.’

She cut in quickly, almost fearfully. ‘Oh, Mr Edward, how can it ever be?’

‘Believe that it can be, Susan – and tell me – oh, please tell me that you love me!’ Edward had no knowledge of lovers’ talk, but spoke from his heart. ‘If you can but love me, I would wait for ever.’

Susan’s thoughts whirled. On the one hand she heard his words with incredulous joy, while on the other caution and common sense told her that this was utter folly, and could never come to reality, for all the reasons already given. And there was something else too, something deeper and darker that she could not name and did not even want to think about.

Without raising her head she murmured his name under her breath. ‘Edward.’

‘Susan – my own sweet Susan.’ He put his forefinger beneath her chin and gently raised her head so that he could press his lips to her forehead. ‘I’ll have none other in the world but you, Susan.’

She could not answer straight away, but struggled to compose herself, to quieten her agitation.

‘Susan? Have I your answer?’

How should she answer? How could she
not
answer, with Edward’s arms around her, his face so close that she could feel the warmth of his skin. How could she be calm and sensible?

She could. And she was.

‘I can tell ye only one thing f’r sure, Edward. Whatever happens, even if we can’t ever be – if I can’t have ye, Edward, I’ll have no other. Not ever. Ye have my word on’t.’

‘My sweet Susan! Then you’ll be my wife in the course of time, for
I
will never have another. Never.’

Again she raised her face to look into his. Their eyes met and his lips found hers in a brief but infinitely tender kiss.