Chaff upon the Wind (26 page)

‘Oh I’m sorry, my little love. I should not have kept you here in the dark and the cold waiting for him. Shush, shush,’ she crooned. ‘Someone will hear you.’

She was beginning to lever herself up out of the cocoon of straw when a sudden light shone in her face. Blinking, she gasped thankfully, ‘Jack, oh Jack – thank goodness you’ve
come.’

‘It’s not Thorndyke,’ said a voice and there was no hiding the bitterness in its tone. ‘It’s me.’

‘Oh – oh Master Edward . . .’ Now she was standing and shaking the straw from her skirts and trying to move away. ‘I’m sorry. I’m – we’re just
going.’

‘And where on earth do you think you’re going at this time of night, for heaven’s sake?’ His concern for her was making him speak sharply and, hearing it from the gentle
young man, for a moment Kitty’s usual determination deserted her and tears sprang to her eyes. ‘We’re g-going,’ she stammered, ‘to my p-parents.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Kitty. That’s at least a mile away. You can’t possibly walk all that way now – at this time of night. It’s gone midnight. And carrying
the child. Come back into the house.’

‘Oh no, Master Edward. I couldn’t. I daresunt. Really.’

‘Nonsense, Kitty. Do as I say. Think of your child, if not of yourself.’

That, more than anything else could have done, swayed her. ‘Well,’ she said, though still reluctant, ‘just into the kitchen for a moment or two. Maybe I could just feed him. I
think he’s hungry.’

‘Whatever, but do come into the warm. Come along.’ She felt his grasp on her elbow, surprisingly firm and determined and, despite the incongruity of her situation, in the darkness
Kitty found herself smiling. How Master Edward was indeed growing up!

The kitchen was deserted. Settling her into the chair at the side of the range, Edward bent and roused the fire, setting the kettle on the hob. ‘A hot drink’s what you need.’
She felt him looking at her and she looked up to meet his gaze. ‘Is there anything you need for the baby?’

As Kitty told him what was required to prepare a feed, Edward reached out and gently eased back the shawl around the child’s face. The baby stared up at him with round, dark blue eyes.

‘Isn’t he tiny? I’ve never seen such a small baby before.’ He continued to stare down at the child as if drinking in the sight of him. Watching Edward, Kitty saw a tender
smile curve his mouth, then his gaze moved slowly to meet her own. They stared at each other for a long moment until a log shifted in the fire, sending sparks up the flue and breaking their
reverie. Edward cleared his throat and turned away to sit down on the opposite side of the fireplace to watch Kitty feed her child.

At least, she thought wryly, as at last she held the teat to the tiny mouth, Master Edward isn’t asking why I’m not feeding the baby myself like everyone else is doing.

‘You can stay here the rest of the night, Kitty.’

She looked up, startled. ‘Oh I couldn’t, Master Edward. I’d be in awful trouble – and so would you.’

He grinned and it warmed Kitty’s heart to see mischief in his eyes, a boyish mischief that she had never seen before when he was an invalid. But he was no invalid now and she was so
thankful for it. Now Edward had the chance of living a proper life and with it, she could already see a strength and determination that before had been blotted out by his sickness and
suffering.

‘But I’m going back to school tomorrow,’ he told her, arching his left eyebrow. ‘And you can be gone in the morning. Who’s to know? And even if they did, well . .
.’ he spread his hands. ‘We’ll soon be away from any recriminations, won’t we? Both of us.’

‘Well,’ she wavered, torn by the desire to keep the child warm and fed and the fear of causing more trouble for herself and for Edward. But the young man was insistent. ‘You
can sleep in my room and no one need know. You can leave before anyone gets up in the morning.’

‘But what if the baby cries in the night? I can’t be sure to keep him quiet, you know.’

Edward shrugged and grinned again. ‘Well, we’ll worry about that if it happens, shall we?’

But the little boy behaved perfectly, and, before it was light, Edward roused Kitty and together they crept down into the kitchen once more. When the baby had been fed, Edward opened the back
door and Kitty stepped out in the pale mist of dawn. Turning, she whispered, ‘I don’t know how to thank you, Master Edward.’

‘Teddy,’ he reminded her. ‘Remember your promise?’

Kitty smiled tremulously. So many promises, she thought briefly. But this one was easy to keep, for in her heart she always thought of him as ‘Teddy’.

‘Thank you, Teddy,’ she said simply. ‘For everything.’ And her words encompassed not only his help of the previous night, but his lack of censure, of judgement. She was
so grateful for his unquestioning concern for her welfare.

Briefly, he nodded but seemed unable to speak. Then he touched her arm and gave it a comforting squeeze before he turned away and closed the door between them.

Kitty stood at the side of the stackyard watching the men work until one of them should notice her. Noise filled the air and it was impossible to shout above it and she knew
better than to move in among the workers. They worked as a team and a sudden disruption was not only a nuisance, but it could be dangerous.

It was Jack himself who saw her as he stood on the footplate of the threshing engine. He waved and smiled, but gestured that he could not leave the machinery for a few moments. Kitty nodded and
settled herself on a pile of straw to wait. The early mist was clearing now and it would be a bright morning, but the chill of winter was in the air and Kitty knew that while in the height of
summer she and the child might have survived by sleeping in a barn, in this weather the tiny baby would not.

She sighed. She must not look to the Manor House and the Franklin family again, or to her own family. Jack Thorndyke was her only hope. Only he stood between her and the workhouse.

And then she remembered the money hidden in the deep pocket of her coat. The money Mrs Franklin had given her. It was a generous sum, but even that would not last for ever and then . . .

In the shelter of the wall and burrowed into the straw, she must have dozed, for suddenly she heard his voice and blinked herself fully awake to see him standing over her, wiping his oily
fingers on a rag. ‘Now then, young Kitty. What brings you here?’

‘I should have thought,’ she said tartly, levering herself up from the straw, ‘that would be obvious, even for you, Jack Thorndyke.’

He raised his eyebrows and then threw back his head in a guffaw of laughter. ‘You’re getting a sharp tongue on you, Kitty Clegg. I hope becoming a mother hasn’t turned you into
a shrew of a woman.’

‘If it has, then you’re to blame.’ She stopped, quelling her anger with him. This was not what she had intended and the meeting would turn into a quarrel if she was not
careful. So instead she moved closer to him, put her hand on his arm and looked up into his eyes. ‘Jack, I don’t want us to fight. I came to ask you what you wanted your son to be
named. I – I thought you’ve a right to be involved. I
want
you to be involved with him. Please, Jack?’

For a moment, the big man’s eyes softened, but there was a wariness still in their depths, a wariness that told her he was still neatly avoiding any traps. ‘Well, that’s nice
of you, Kitty. Had you any name in mind?’

She shook her head. ‘Do you want me to call him Jack?’

He laughed. ‘That’s not my given name. The name on my birth certificate is John.’

‘That’s my father’s name, too,’ Kitty murmured.

‘How about you name him John, then, but we call him Johnnie?’

Kitty smiled. Perhaps it would be a way of appeasing her father too. ‘Yes, yes, that’s fine. I like that.’

There was a slight pause as they stood looking at each other.

‘So, where are you living?’

She shrugged. ‘Nowhere. I’ve nowhere to go, Jack.’

He looked at her keenly. ‘Where did you stay last night, then?’

Kitty swallowed, not wanting to give away the fact that she had stayed in Edward’s bedroom. ‘Here – at the Manor. I stayed here.’ She held her breath but he pursued the
matter no further. He seemed to be thinking.

‘Well,’ he said slowly, ‘I’ve got a bit of news for you. Rather funny, really, considering.’ He paused and then went on, ‘Mr Franklin came into the yard this
morning when I was oiling up and offered me a cottage on the edge of Sir Ralph’s estate that’s empty at the moment.’ Jack put his head on one side. ‘Said he’d heard as
how you had a bairn now and that he understood it was mine. “I don’t think her father will help her,” he said.’ Jack smiled oddly and there was sarcasm in his tone as he
said, ‘Now, I wonder why he would know that? And why should a man like him be concerning himself with a kitchen maid who’s got ’ersen into trouble? Eh Kitty?’

Kitty shook her head, ‘I don’t know.’ That was the truth, but somewhere in the recess of her memory she seemed to have heard similar words spoken before. At this moment,
however, her thoughts were on something else. Quite unwittingly, Mr Franklin was providing a home for his own grandson.

‘No,’ Jack said slowly, watching her. ‘I don’t believe you do understand why he’s doing it, do you?’ He paused a moment and then went on, ‘But
we’ll take up the master’s most kind offer. At least, while I’m still working in this area. He’s given me the key and I’ll be going there tonight. Bring the boy and
we’ll talk things over, Kitty. But don’t . . .’ Gently he tapped her nose with his forefinger but he was smiling as he added, ‘Don’t go getting your hopes up that
I’ll be going down on one knee to make an honest woman of you.’

Kitty managed a tremulous smile, but inside her heart was thudding.

An honest woman? she thought wryly. Oh Jack Thorndyke, if only you knew!

She waited for over an hour outside the low, whitewashed cottage, the baby in one arm, his feeding equipment in a bag at her feet. Impatiently, she tapped her foot. Again she
tried the cottage door, but it was locked. She went round to the back to see if there was any way into the cottage, even through a window. But everything was securely locked and bolted.

The child began to whimper and though she rocked him, trying to soothe him, the whimpers grew into wails as hunger gnawed at his tiny stomach. By the time Kitty heard Jack’s jaunty
whistling through the gathering dusk, the child’s crying echoed through the shadows to greet his father.

‘By heck,’ came Jack’s chuckle. ‘He’s a good pair of lungs on him, ain’t he?’

‘He’s hungry and probably cold too. We’ve been waiting over an hour.’

Unlocking the door, Jack glanced at her in surprise. ‘You could’ve fed him. There’s no one around to see.’

‘No, I couldn’t,’ she told him shortly. ‘He needs a bottle.’

‘What? Ya not feeding him yasen?’

‘No,’ Kitty said and volunteered no further information. ‘Come on, let’s get inside and get him fed, for heaven’s sake.’

An hour later the child was satisfied and had fallen into an exhausted sleep. Kitty looked about her. The cottage was nice. Or rather it could be, given a woman’s touch. The range was grey
with dirt instead of a shining black and the peg rug on the hearth needed a good beating in the fresh air. Every surface had a layer of dust and in the back scullery the sink was stained brown.

‘So, what do you think, Kitty?’

‘It could be a nice little place,’ Kitty murmured and then looked straight at him. ‘But it depends on you, Jack. What are you offering me?’

He put up his hands, palms outward, as if to fend her off. ‘Now, now, I’ve told you . . .’

‘I know, I know. You’re not the marrying kind.’ She smiled ruefully and sighed. ‘Well, Jack, I accept that now.’

There was silence for a moment as they stared at each other and then he said, surprise in his tone, ‘You mean, you’d come and live with me and not be married? What about your
reputation?’

Kitty shrugged. ‘Me reputation, as you call it, is in tatters now, isn’t it?’

Jack gave a long, low whistle through his teeth. ‘Well, I have to admit you’ve shocked even me, Kitty Clegg.’ He tilted his head to one side and regarded her thoughtfully.
‘I just hope you’re not banking on being able to change me mind, though.’ He shook his head slowly and said, almost with a note of sadness, ‘Because I’m sorry, Kitty,
for some things I am truly sorry, but I won’t change me mind about marrying you.’

Kitty folded her arms across her bosom as she asked quietly, ‘Just tell me one thing, Jack. Is it just me you don’t want to marry – or anyone?’

‘I won’t marry at all,’ he replied bluntly. ‘But I have to say,’ he added, seeming to mellow a little, ‘of all the women I’ve known, I reckon I could
live with you, Kitty.’

It was on the tip of her tongue to say, But you wouldn’t be faithful, would you, Jack? You wouldn’t know how to be faithful to one woman, married to her or not. You’ve already
proved that. But the words lay unspoken for she knew that she was treading on dangerous ground if she made any reference, however vague, to Miriam Franklin.

All she did say was, ‘But you don’t love me, Jack, do you?’

He took a stride and reached for her, pulling her into his strong arms. Resting his cheek against her hair, he said, ‘Oh Kitty, I love you for giving me a son. No one’s ever given me
a
son
before.’

She tilted her head back and looked up into his face. ‘And yet, you still won’t marry me?’

He looked down at her, an unusually tender look in his eyes. Slowly, he shook his head, then said, ‘So? What is it to be? Bring the child up on your own or come and live with
me?’

Kitty’s mind was in a turmoil. She loved this man with all her being, loved him with a love that had driven her, who had been brought up to be good and honest, to take actions of which she
would never have believed herself capable only a year or so ago. And yet she was not completely blinded by her love for him. She knew him for what he was and, she had to admit, he had his own brand
of honesty. He was a rogue, at least where the ladies were concerned, yet he freely admitted it and he made no false promises either. She knew he would never marry her, yet he was offering her a
life with him, but only on his terms. Knowing all this, she loved him still. Thoughts of him filled her every waking moment, and, away from him, she yearned to be near him.