A Carriage for the Midwife (30 page)

Both Edward and Susan were surprised by the number of invitations they received. Cousin Sophia opened her home to them, Dr Parnham gave a dinner for them, as did Mr and Mrs Turnbull; Mrs Bennett welcomed them into her parlour, and good Parson Smart rejoiced in little Susan Lucket’s change of fortune.

‘Ye’ve done more for the paupers in that wretched House than any of us, Mrs Calthorpe,’ he said between coughs.

Edward was continually impressed by the high esteem in which his wife was held, the praises heaped upon her in so many homes, from the Dummets of Crabb’s cottages to Mrs Grimes at the bakehouse; entering many humble dwellings, he learned a great deal about the lives of the villagers.

Everybody noticed the young wife’s loving manner towards her husband, the way she handed him his teacup and hovered dutifully at his side, her devotion displayed in every movement. Mrs Coulter declared that it was the prettiest sight in the world.

When the newlyweds were formally invited to take tea with the squire and his lady, Susan was not at first inclined to accept.

‘Oh, you must go, ’tis only polite,’ Sophia assured her. ‘Henry and I will be there. ’Tis Mrs Hansford’s way of showing their acceptance of your marriage, and proves that she is not under the sway of Edward’s mother,’ she added significantly, for everybody knew of the unrelenting silence from Bever House.

Nevertheless, Susan found the atmosphere a little strained, and sat with downcast eyes while Mrs Hansford poured tea and exchanged sedate pleasantries with her future daughter-in-law. Rosa’s cold blue eyes roamed curiously over the girl who had been brought up in the Ash-Pits and worked at the House of Industry, yet had so inexplicably captured Osmond’s brother.

Dr Gravett sat gloomily eating cake and balancing his cup on his knee. Life at the rectory had lost many of its comforts since his sister had taken to her bed and grew weaker daily. Another Miss Gravett, a niece from Winchester, had come to keep house for them, and was not inclined to pander to the rector’s imagined ills as poor Amelia had done.

The squire and his elder son talked with Edward about the high price of livestock and the shortage of available manpower on the land, while William, a robust lad of sixteen, had been told to wait upon the ladies and the rector.

All conversation was suspended when a maidservant announced that ‘Mr Osmond Calthorpe be come to call.’

Susan’s face tightened, Rosa’s flushed, and Edward rose at once to go to his brother’s assistance. Osmond had asked Berry to help him hobble out of the house unseen by his parents, and to drive him down in the gig. He was in high spirits at his success, and manoeuvred himself between the chairs while making gallant remarks to the ladies as befitted a wounded hero.

‘I vow you have made me quite envious of my brother, sister Susan!’ he declared, but his smile was not returned, either by his new sister-in-law or his cousin Sophy. Certain facts cannot remain secret indefinitely; it was whispered that Osmond had a maidservant to warm his bed, and Sophia knew from her maids that Polly Lucket had become skilled at climbing in and out of windows. Susan knew nothing of this, living away from Beversley, but her former experience of Edward’s brother had made her wary of him, and she hoped that he had now lost interest in Polly.

‘I have been trying to persuade my father that I should go to the garrison at Winchester and take up duties there,’ Osmond told the company. ‘Though ’twould be a sad change for a Captain of the 67th Hampshire Foot to wield a pen instead of a musket!’

He complimented Rosa on her pretty sprigged gown, and ingratiated himself with Dr Gravett by inquiring about Miss Amelia. Edward too was subjected to his persuasive charm.

‘By God, you’ve done well, Ned, I have to admit it,’ he said in a low tone to his brother as the party broke up. ‘What would I give for such an adoring little wife as yours! But alas, I have an heir’s duty to put other considerations before my own.’

Edward looked towards Susan, who stood waiting for him at the door.

‘May we not invite Osmond to dinner with us at the Bull, my love?’

Her mouth was a straight line, but she bowed to her husband’s wish. ‘By all means name a day, Edward.’

‘Excellent! So do come and dine with us, Osmond, let’s say Monday? I have to return to Portsmouth on Wednesday.’

Susan nodded in response to her brother-in-law’s bow, but could not share her husband’s pleasure as they drove back to Belhampton.

‘Dear Susan, we are unacknowledged by my family, so it means something to me that Osmond wants to visit us,’ Edward said gently. ‘He has been so close to death, and my father believes that suffering has improved his character. I am grateful for your forbearance, my love.’

‘He’s your brother, Edward, and nothing’ll change that. I’ll be civil enough, even if I don’t ha’ much to say.’

‘Oh, sweet Susan, you are an angel,’ he said fondly, putting his free arm around her as they drove across the common. She let her head rest on his shoulder, trying not to think about her distrust of his family, especially his brother.

Or of her own miserable failure as a wife.

Osmond never kept his dinner engagement at the Bull.

On the Friday morning a hastily written note arrived from Sophia, asking the young couple to come over at once to Glover Cottage, where a distraught Polly Lucket had appeared on the doorstep just as Great St Giles’ clock was striking six. Sobbing and shivering, she had gasped out a story of being flung from the door of Bever House.

‘Her was jus’ waitin’ fur a chance to be rid o’ me, Miss Glover. Now Mr Edward’s gone an’ married Sukey, her’s turned agin me an’ thrown me out!’

Sophia saw with horror that there were cuts and bruises on the girl’s face and arms. She had been severely beaten. Sophia took her in and personally bathed her swollen eyes and the red weals all over her body. Bread and milk was brought for her breakfast.

‘I will send for your sister and brother-in-law, Polly, and you will have to tell us exactly what happened. Remember that the truth will always come to light in the Lord’s good time.’

It seemed only too clear that Osmond’s illicit dalliance with the maidservant had been discovered, and that the girl had been punished for the misdeeds of both. Sophia’s sense of justice was offended, though she could not exempt Polly from all blame.

In fact she might well have been as speechless as Gertrude Calthorpe had been when she had gone to her son’s room and found him and Polly in the very act of fornication. When she recovered her breath she had screamed and hit out at the naked girl with her bare fists until Jael Ferris had rushed in to drag Polly away. She had found a maid’s blue gown to throw over the girl, and within minutes had put her out into the stable-yard, telling her to go to Miss Glover, that well-known rescuer of disgraced maidservants.

Susan and Edward drove over from Belhampton as soon as they received the message. The two sisters fell upon each other in a tearful embrace, and Sophia sent them upstairs to talk while she and Edward discussed the situation in the parlour.

‘’Tis the usual story, Cousin,’ she told him in her direct way. ‘Your brother has been pleasuring himself with this silly girl for some time, and now your mother has found them out.’

‘Are you truly sure of that, Sophy? Does Polly admit as much?’ asked Edward, acutely embarrassed by this development and its effect on Susan.

‘Good heavens, do you think the servants haven’t known about it for weeks?’ replied Sophia impatiently. ‘Let’s hope that Polly is not with child, for Osmond cares nothing about the girls he ruins – think of Jenny Kyte, who had a bastard daughter and was wet nurse to Mrs Twydell’s baby and others until her milk dried up, and then she took herself and the poor child to Portsmouth. Her younger sister Meg has followed her there, though scarcely more than a child herself, and from what I hear they both sell their bodies to sailors in ports. ’Tis shame to your brother indeed!’

She looked severely at Edward, who had gone very white.

‘Good God, Sophy, do you say so? The young sister was called Meg, you said?’

‘Yes. Why, have you come across her? They came from Crabb’s cottages, and their parents are broken-hearted,’ went on Sophia relentlessly. ‘And it was your brother who started that train of evil with his careless lust, and so ruined two girls’ lives, and cares nothing for the child he fathered. But come, Edward, I must not chide you with Osmond’s conduct, we must speak of the matter in hand.’

She thought his stricken look was due to her revelation of Osmond’s misdeeds, while he was inexpressibly thankful that she could not read his thoughts; was it only four months ago since that spring evening when he had come so close to taking Meg’s unripe body to satisfy his own lust? He burned with shame now at the memory.

‘So what is to become of your sister-in-law, turned out of her place and destitute?’ asked Sophia. ‘She may stay here until somewhere else can be found, though in truth I have no need of another maid. I’ve taken in many over the years, most of them in need of Mrs Coulter’s services. God grant that Polly be not another such.’

Edward took her words as a personal reproach.

‘I will make a payment towards her board while she is here, Sophy.’

‘Why, are you your brother’s paymaster? No, Edward, you are returning to heaven knows what dangers at sea, as is my betrothed Henry. You need every penny to ensure that your wife may not be in want if – if you have left her with child. Your obligation is to her, not to her sister.’

He was silent. It was a kind of consolation to know that his unfulfilled marriage was a secret shared only with Susan.

‘Come, Edward,’ said Sophia briskly, ‘we shall have to put on braver faces, for I hear the sisters coming downstairs. We have had tears enough for one morning.’

And so it was settled that Polly should stay at Glover Cottage until another place could be found for her, preferably away from Beversley.

‘I hear that Mrs Twydell of Pulhurst is again with child, and may need extra help in the house,’ said Sophia. ‘I will make enquiries through Mrs Bennett.’

Polly’s face fell at the thought of being so far away from her sweetheart, but Susan told her quite firmly that she needed to be removed from the scene of her disgrace.

‘Cheer up, Poll, ye could ha’ fared a deal worse, and we’re obliged to Miss Glover yet again,’ she added, though her fury against the Calthorpes rose anew at the sight of her sister’s injuries. After such brutal treatment she felt that Polly should not be scolded further, and if this scandal finally separated her from the menace of Osmond, it might even prove a blessing.

On Monday morning the Bever carriage was seen leaving the village with a trunk secured aloft, heading towards Winchester. Inside sat a silent Osmond with his father. When the carriage returned in the late afternoon, only the senior Calthorpe was within. The news quickly spread that the young captain had rejoined the garrison, some said as an instructor of new recruits, while others revealed that he was to be a recorder at courts martial. Less kindly voices gave him the office of keeper of stores.

On his way back, Mr Calthorpe ordered Jude to drive to Belhampton and stop at the Bull Inn. Once inside he asked to be allowed to pay his respects to young Mrs Calthorpe, to whom he apologised for the lateness of his visit. He offered the Bever carriage to take Edward back to Portsmouth on Wednesday, and suggested that Mrs Susan might like to travel down with her husband and return in the carriage. Susan respectfully declined, however, and said she would say farewell to Edward at the inn before returning forthwith to her duties at the House of Industry.

In fact Susan could not bear the thought of stepping into the Bever carriage, so great was her contempt for Edward’s mother and brother.

Edward woke suddenly in the early hours of that last night at the inn. His wife lay with her back towards him, sweetly enclosed within the larger curve of his body, her head beneath his chin, her hair spread over the shared bolster. She breathed softly and rhythmically as he silently kissed her temple and smoothed the hair back from her forehead with his right hand. His whole being yearned with love and longing, and he pressed himself against her back, feeling their thighs touching. His heartbeat quickened, and he was aware of his rising desire, of his manhood thrusting towards her. Hardly daring to breathe, his fingers closed on the thin cotton of her nightgown, slowly drawing it up, trembling at the feel of her bare flesh. His unruly member leaped beneath his nightshirt like a separate part with a life of its own, disobedient, deaf to reason and caution.

‘Susan.’ His whisper was scarcely audible. ‘Susan, my own darling wife.’

He leaned forward to kiss her cheek, and she stirred slightly, murmuring his name. He was lost: he could hold back no longer, but seized her in his arms, his hands meeting across her breasts.

‘Oh, Susan, Susan!’

She smiled in her dream, murmuring his name again. ‘Edward.’

He drew her more closely against him, his heart pounding in his ears.

Then came a breath of fear.

‘Edward?’ It was a question.

Then, ‘Edward, Edward, help!’ It was a shout: she was calling to him to come to her aid, to save her from the beast that had risen up out of the darkness of night.

A choking smell of crushed bracken overwhelmed her, so nauseating that it almost took away her breath; coarse fustian scraped against her legs, and to her unspeakable horror a length of hot remembered flesh pushed at her from behind, separating her thighs, defiling her, forcing her into desperate defence.

She reared up in the bed, a raging fury of arms, legs, hands, feet, nails and teeth: frantic cries burst from her throat.

‘Stop,
stop
, I won’t have ’ee,
stop
, I tell ’ee – no! No, never,
never
!’

And with a scream and a violent kick at the beast, she leaped off the bed and ran to the window where she crouched cowering beneath its ledge.

‘Don’t ’ee come near me no more – no more!’

Edward underwent a rapid adjustment of emotions. His desire instantly vanished in the shock of her reaction to it, and was followed by a deep pity for her distress. This gave him the wisdom to stay calm and to take his time with the terrified child that she had become.