Her Saving Grace (20 page)

They were almost done when someone knocked on the door frame. Damaris turned to the doorway while the girl positioned herself behind Damaris’ skirts, hiding there as best she could.

“Excuse me, Ma’am, I’m Emily Ogden. I was told you had work for me?”

“Did you bring a friend?” Damaris asked.

“I did, Ma’am, Lisa.”

“And do you both have experience caring for children?”

“I’ve got two brothers and sisters who I helped care for, and Lisa’s the eldest of eight.”

“And where is
Lisa now?”

“In t
he kitchen, Ma’am, helping fill the bath tub. The man sent me up here to help you.”

“Then help us carry these clothes down and I’ll take you to the children.”

They divided the clothes up but as they left the room, Damaris took the top item from her pile and dropped it. She felt the presence behind her dip to pick it up and couldn’t help but smile. The girl had probably only wanted to help but was too afraid to say so.

Down in the kitchen
, a screen had been erected around the tub and the first boy was washing, his old clothes having been thrown back over the screen. After they piled the new clothes onto the kitchen table, Mrs Higgins got a wooden spoon and gingerly picked the old clothes up with it, depositing them in the fireplace.

From the corner of her eye, Damaris saw the girl neatly fold the shirt that had been dropped and
when she thought that no one was looking, place it on top of a pile.

Damaris turned around and winked at the chi
ld. “Good girl,” she whispered. The child looked startled, so Damaris quickly diverted her attention back to the other occupants of the kitchen.

One by one the children were washed, scrubbed
with lye soap to kill fleas and nits, then redressed and sent to sit at the table to wait.

Mrs Higgins and Damaris took the freshly washed and towel wrapped girls into the spacious pantry and sorted through clothes to find things which fit them, while Nathaniel oversaw the same process with the boys, from the privacy of the
servants’ dining room.

The tub water was changed three times to keep it clean. Emily and
Lisa began working on a stew for supper but in the meantime, the children were given bread and jam as a reward for bathing, which they eagerly devoured.

Finally only the smallest girl was left. At some point she had
slipped her hand into Damaris’ but it felt so natural that she hardly noticed.

“Your turn,” Damaris told the girl. She was acutely aware of Nathaniel watching her closely. “Go on, get changed and have a bath.”

The girl actually looked frightened.

“Go on,” Damaris encouraged, trying to let go of her hand an
d nudge her towards the screen, but the girl’s grip tightened and she refused to move.

“She’s never ‘ad a bath,” said one of the boys
seated at the kitchen table. The children didn’t talk much and none had spoken directly to her before.

“Never?” She was shocked. She knew that the poor probably didn’t bathe as often as the rich
, but to have never had a bath at three or four years old was unthinkable.

“Never. We haven’t ‘ad one in years
neither, too much trouble, Mrs Murray said.”

No wonder they were
filthy.

She looked down at the little girl who still gripped her hand. She had to wash, there was simply no other way to get so much grime off
.

“What’s her name?” she heard Nathaniel ask.

She had intentionally not asked the child’s name because she didn’t want to get attached.

“Ella
,” the boy answered.

It was a nice name, Damaris thought.
She bent down so she wouldn’t look so imposing.

“Will you have a bath
if I help you?”

Ella
looked to the screen then back at Damaris and after a moment to consider, she gave a hesitant nod.

“Come on then.”

She led the girl behind the screen and checked the temperature of the water, which was rapidly cooling. She added a pan of hot water from the stove, then refilled it to heat up again, before she set about undressing the girl.

She was in a much worse state than Damaris had thought and as she removed each item of clothing, a new wound was revealed to her. Some were insect bites, probably fleas, which had festered. Others were chafing from the clothes she wore, which were too tight at the waist and
rubbed. The worst were the injuries however. The girl’s back was covered in straight, pink welts, probably caused by a thin belt. She could see a few old scars too, where the skin had been broken and healed.

Once undressed she
stood the girl in the tub and picked up the lye soap, rubbing it over the flannel, then setting about scrubbing the grime from her skin. She took care to be gentle over the cuts and abrasions but Ella still hissed with pain on occasion.

When her skin was clean, Damaris instructed her to sit in the tub. She ladled water over her hair, then lathered up the soap and massaged it into the hair. The soap was far too harsh on hair for normal use but considering the
state these children were in, harsh was needed. She lathered and rinsed her hair twice, then set about picking the tangles out with a tortoiseshell comb. It was hard work as the hair was matted and the lye soap had stripped all the natural oils, but she persevered and did her best to be gentle.

Since she wasn’t the first to use this tub of water, when Damaris was finally finished with her hair, she stood
Ella up and gently tipped a pan of warm water from the stove over her. She wrapped the girl in a towel and dried her off, then applied some zinc and castor oil to her damaged skin, before taking her into the pantry to find clothes.

Nothing that she had brought down fit well, all being too baggy but
Ella was very thin at the moment and after a week or so of decent meals, would probably fill the clothes out well. And better that the clothes were too loose rather than too tight, so they wouldn’t chafe like her old clothes had.

When finished, she took a moment to see what had been under all that dirt and grime, and found a cherubic looking girl. Her cheeks had a healthy red glow, probably from the
warm bath, and her hair was actually a very light shade of brown, which would probably lighten further as it dried.

“There,” she smiled at the girl
. “All done.”

The girl gave her a shy smile.

“Ella,” she said the name softly, brushing her thumb over her ruby cheeks. “Now, go and get your bread and jam as a reward for being so good.”

Damaris
actually felt a pang of regret when the girl almost ran out to get her food. She knew that she shouldn’t be surprised, the girl was probably starving and anyway, she had told her to go. She had rather liked Ella’s dependence on her however.

She
made her way back to the kitchen and was surprised to see Lilly sitting at the table with the children. She must have been so engrossed with Ella that she hadn’t heard her arrival.

“Thank you for coming,”
Damaris smiled at her friend. “I have a large favour to ask of you.”

“I guessed when Lord Copley’s driver told me what you were
doing, so I packed for a few days.”

“You really don’t mind?”

“Not at all. It’s nice to see some of your old spark coming back.” She gave Damaris a big smile. “You and Lord Copley can get off home now, I’ll take care of everything here.”

Damaris felt her eyes drawn to Ella and was surprised to find that she
didn’t want to leave, at least, not without the girl.

But she wasn’t Ella’s mother and she had no business getting attached to the child.

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Lilly, and if you have any problems, just send word.” She left without glancing at Ella, before she could second-guess her decision.

Since the walls she had built around her heart appeared to be cracking,
Nathaniel had watched Damaris with interest this afternoon, and he was disappointed when she simply turned and left.

He bowed to the ladies in the room and followed her out of the house with a heavy heart. As he climbed into the carriage, he hoped to get her to open up.

“Ella seems like a nice-”

“Did you see the midwife?” she cut him off.

“I’m sorry?” It felt like a lifetime ago since he had talked with Mrs Stephens and it took him a moment to remember what she was referring to.

“The midwife
? You went back to wait for her.”

So they were getting straight back to business. He didn’t quite know what to expect when he found her so distraught in town but when the
child, Ella, seemed to form an attachment to her, he had hoped that Damaris might show some interest in the girl, other than just her general welfare.

He sighed but he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Feeling too disappointed to press the issue however, he relayed the details of his encounter with the midwife to her.

She in turn explained what she had learned from the court records and by the time she had finished, they were pulling up to Copley Hall.

He
helped her down from the carriage, then strode off into the house. He knew that he shouldn’t feel so saddened by her reaction but he had got his hopes up, and it would take him some time before he was ready to see her again.

***

Isabelle wasn’t usually one to interfere in her childrens’ lives, unless asked. Her late husband had believed that while you should support children, you shouldn’t coddle them and she had done her best to support her offspring, while still letting them resolve their own problems.

Seeing her son storm through the entry hall though, not even registering her presence, she knew that she ha
d to find out what was going on, rather than waiting for Nate to ask her advice.

She found him in his room, pacing its length, his necktie, coat and waistcoat
discarded on the bed. He hadn’t replied to her knock, so she had entered anyway.

“Nate?”

He looked toward the door and seemed surprised to see her. Perhaps he hadn’t heard her knock.

“What’s
wrong?” she said, closing the door.

“Do you really need
to ask?” he said with a deep sigh. “That woman is beyond help.”

Isabelle
sat on the end of his bed, so she could watch him as he resumed pacing.

“She is very troubled but not beyond help.”

“Well, she is beyond
my
help, at least.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she tried to reassure him.

“Really?” He sounded accusing but she knew that he wasn’t angry with her, so she didn’t take offence. “Because it seems hopeless to me.”

“I thought that the two of you were getting on well?”

“We were, I think, I… Oh, I don’t know any more, Mother. All I do know is that she is the most infuriating woman I have ever met!”

“Tell me what’s
happened to make you feel this way?”

He dashed a hand through his hair, making him look roguishly
handsome, even if she was biased, then his shoulders slumped and he seemed to deflate before her eyes.

“I thought
we were finally making progress; she was opening up, even being affectionate to one of the children, then she just turned and left without a second look.”

His words didn’t make an awful lot of sense to her
, so she grabbed his hand the next time he passed.

“Sit down and tell me everything,” she said in her best mother-knows-best tone. It didn’t always work now that her children were grown
, but sometimes it was effective and it seemed that Nate did want to talk.

H
e sat beside her and began to explain the events of the day.

***

Isabelle could hardly believe the tale that Nate had told her, of a distraught Damaris and a dramatic arrest and rescue of the children in Mrs Murray’s care. It hardly married up with the image she had of their guest, but she knew that grief could do strange things to a person.

She also had a feeling that Damaris desperately wanted to reconnect with the people around her, she was just frightened to, terrified of being hurt again.
Isabelle had some sympathy with that.

She made her way straight to Damaris’ room and knocked
, but there was no reply. She looked inside but it was empty so she headed downstairs. The door to the study was open so she tried there first and sure enough, she found their guest sitting on a sofa, reading some papers.

“Mari?” she called
from the doorway.

The woman looked up and Isabelle could see the events of the day on her features. She
looked weary and frightened.

“Your friend Elizabeth called while you were out,” Isabelle told her.

“Oh…” After a few moments of silence, she looked back to the papers.

Isabelle had expected more of a response than that.

“She left a calling card if you want to see it.”

“Sorry?” Damaris looked at her again, not having registered her words immediately. “A card,
yes, of course. Um, no, I don’t need to see it, thank you. She probably left it for you anyway, I’ve known her since I was a child. Did she say when she would return, or does she want me to call on her?”

“She said to tell you that she would
call again tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? But I…” she appeared anxious.

“You and Nate will be investigating the case, I presume.”

Damaris sighed. “Actually, probably no
t. I think we have exhausted our existing leads and I don’t know what to do next. I was re-reading these documents hoping to find something I had overlooked the first time.”

Isabelle took a few steps into the room.

“What documents are they?”

“Things that my father left with his mistress. She lied when I asked if she had anything of his, but she gave them to your son.”

Isabelle didn’t think that she imagined the bitterness in Damaris’ voice, but it did surprise her.

“You trusted this woman?”
she asked stepping further into the room.

“I did. I think she genuinely cared for my father and I have taken care of her since he disappeared.
I thought she was my friend.”

“Did she offer no explanation for her deception?”

“She gave Nate a letter full of excuses, but I didn’t want to read it.”

Isabelle
didn’t know how to respond to that.

“You think I’m overreacting, don’t you?”

“Not at all, my dear. You have taken care of this woman for nigh on six years now and considered her a friend, which means you must have trusted her. No matter how pure her motives may have been, what she did was wrong. However…”

When she didn’t finish her sentence, Damaris urged her to continue.

“Well, it just seems to me that while your friend’s guilt isn’t in doubt, there might be mitigating circumstances. Wouldn’t it be best to know the whole story before condemning her?”

Now Damaris was unsure how to answer but Isabelle had got off track, so she went to sit beside Damaris on the sofa.

“How are you?” Isabelle asked. “I mean truly; I heard that you had a rather upsetting day and when I came in, you seemed rather stunned.”

“Yes, well… I did what had to be done.”
Her cheeks turned crimson, which made her look quite deceptively innocent.

“It didn’t have to be done today though, did it?”

“Why procrastinate?” Damaris turned back to the papers she was holding, trying to end the conversation.

“Nate told me that there was a beautiful girl among the children. Ella?”

“Yes, she was… very sweet.”

“There’s no shame in feelings,” Isabelle said, unsure how to reach this woman.

“But there is in unseemly displays.”

“Is there? It strikes me that in some areas, we could us
e some more unseemly displays; child welfare being one of them.”

“Yes, perhaps I should think about petitioning
Parliament.” Damaris seemed thoughtful.

“But w
ill that help Ella?”

Damaris looked surprised by the question. “Well, no, not for a while.”

“So you think that petitioning Parliament for a change in the law is the right way to proceed, yet you practically kidnap nine children because they were neglected?”

“That was an emotional decision,” Damaris sou
nded defensive. “Emotions are not logical.”

“
You say that as if it were a bad thing.”

“It is,” Damaris sounded surprised. “It is illogical to spend my time helping nine children, when it could be more effectively used getting legislation passed that could help hundreds.”

“And what of Ella?”

“She-”
Pain flashed across her features. “She’s safe now.”

“Safe, yes, but alone.”

“She has the other children, and Lilly.”

“But not a mother. Not someone to tuck her in at night, to kiss her feverish brow, to hold her while she cries.”

“Lilly can do all that,” Damaris insisted. “She did it for me.”

“But
now, Lilly has eight other children to look after, and she won’t be there forever… You could be, however.”

“What!”

“You could be there for Ella.”

“That’s… insane! That child is just like any other, nothing exceptional about her
at all, so why should she be singled out from the others to be rescued from the orphanage, as if she were more deserving?”

“She
could
be more deserving.”

“But w
e don’t know that.”

“Then
why have you become attached to her?” Isabelle asked.

“I’m not!” Damaris lied but Isabelle
’s expression said that she didn’t believe her. “She was sweet, and shy, but she is the one who formed the attachment to me, not the other way around.”

“But you do feel attached, don’t you?”

“I…”

Damaris didn’t
answer and Isabelle decided that the only way to reach her, might be by revealing some things that she preferred not to think about often.

“
I always wanted a large family,” Isabelle said. “I was an only child, you see, so at one time I thought that I wouldn’t even mind a dozen, although I admit that I may have been foolish there but in my defence, I was only thirteen at the time.”

“Why didn’t you?” Damaris asked, although she
didn’t sound sure that she wanted to know the answer. She did lower the papers that she held however.

“I couldn’t. I
suppose I inherited that trait from my own mother. I conceived many times, I just couldn’t bring most to full term. I have been with child fourteen times but the final loss… I bled so much that they feared I might die, and the doctor told me that if I tried again, I
would
die. So I gave up on my dream and contented myself with four.”

“Four?”

Isabelle looked into her eyes and the pain Damaris saw there was palpable.

“Typhoid. We
almost all caught it, family and servants, but my youngest son was the worst. He was my last baby and he had been born early so he was a sickly child but by the time he reached five, he seemed as healthy as my other boys, so I began to relax. I thought he was going to be fine; grow up, grow old, have a beautiful family and die of old age.”

“I’m so sorry.” Damaris reached out and held the other woman’s hand. She couldn’t even imagine the pain of losing ten children to miscarriage and one to illness. How had
Isabelle found the strength to go on?

“It wasn’t easy,” Isabelle said, as if reading her mind. I had low spirits after each child I lost but when Mark died… I had never known grief like it, nor since. Not even losing my husband could compare
, although I loved him dearly.”

“How…” Damaris wasn’t sure what she wanted to ask. How did she recover? How did she go on? How did she find happiness again?

“My husband came to me one day and told me that if I didn’t get ahold of myself soon, I was going to lose all my children.”

Damaris gasped at
such insensitivity.

“Oh, no, he didn’t mean that he would take them
from me, he meant that I would alienate them, and he was right. He had tried to be patient and understanding but after three months of hardly leaving my room, he could see that kindness wasn’t working, and he could also see that my children were hurt by my disinterest.”