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Authors: B.D. Hawkey

Old Sins Long Shadows (31 page)

BOOK: Old Sins Long Shadows
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One day, Janey Carhart, you’ll want me as much as I want you now!’ he shouted after her. A gust of wind snatched his words away and soon they were lost in the skies above the stoney terraine of the moor.

 

Janey had had a break through. For months she had felt nothing except numbing shame. Now she felt angry. Angry - at the world for the treatment she would receive as an unmarried, pregnant woman. Angry - that her only option now was the workhouse. Angry - that she was unable to enjoy Daniel’s embrace but most of all angry with James Brockenshaw for raping her. Rape was an ugly word for an ugly deed. Up to that moment she had refused to acknowledge it fully. Now she did. Her hatred gave her energy for the first time since the afternoon it had happened. She ran into her room and looked about her wildly for somewhere to spend her frustration. She grabbed her notebook and tore out the pages of her romantic etchings, not content with that she tore the whole book. In a few seconds her prized possession was ripped apart and at her feet. Next she spied her forgotten bouquet of dried flowers he had given her. She grabbed their fragile stems and pulled them to pieces in a frenzy of madness. They fell to the floor in short, crumpled sticks. She kicked at the metal bed frame causing it to jump across the floor. She kicked again and again, imagining it was James she was hurting. She hated him and hated what he did. Hatred was a negative emotion to feel but at least she no longer felt like a victim. She was going to survive this. She had discovered, as Daniel held her life in the balance that she did not want to kill her baby and she did not want to die. She shook the bed frame letting out a roar of anger and then stood panting from the exertion, yet at the same time feeling exhilarated. It was time, she decided, to leave the estate as her condition would soon be too difficult to conceal. She had no choice but to enter the workhouse for her confinement, it was a matter of when and what excuse she must use to leave. The opportunity came just two days later.

 

Phillip Fitzwilliam had been with Lady Brockenshaw all morning to the exclusion of any staff. At midday the staff was assembled in the hall in order of rank. He stood before them, observing them gravely whilst contemplating his next words. The staff waited in silence for his announcement.


As you are aware, Lady Brockenshaw has been unwell for some time,’ he said gravely, ‘After much discussion she has agreed to live with me in Falmouth where I can take care of her.’ He addressed Mr Tallock, ‘Please arrange for her belongings to be placed in trunks. We will depart for Falmouth tomorrow morning.’

‘Tomorrow, sir?  So soon?’


There must be no further delay.’  He repositioned himself to the top of the line of servants. ‘She will not be returning here again. My nephew will be arriving at the end of tomorrow to take over the estate. I do not know for certain the future of this estate. Some of you may wish to continue working for my nephew, but if any of you wish to accompany my sister it may be possible to find you positions on my estate. I do, however, have a butler and housekeeper so if you wish to maintain your positions than I suggest you stay at Bosvenna…for now.’ He addressed Janey, ‘Naturally she desires her maid to accompany her.’  Janey said nothing. ‘The last year has been eventful and tragic for the family of Bosvenna Estate. I want to thank you all for your loyal support and unwavering sense of duty. I do not know the future of this estate, but whatever befalls it from now on it will not involve Lady Brockenshaw from this day forth. Thank you for listening and good day.’

He left the staff in the hall stunned
. Mr Tallock quickly gathered himself and delegated the packing of Lady Brockenshaw’s belongings. The staff dispersed to their various chores while Janey went to speak to her mistress. Suddenly the hall was empty except for Miss Petherbridge who stood alone on the tiled floor in shock. She was numb. Her position as housekeeper was under threat. She had always been afraid it would be taken from her, but the threat had come from a completely different opponent than from the one she had suspected since Janey’s arrival. Fitzwilliam had hinted that the future of the estate was uncertain. She, herself, had suspected financial problems had caused a rift between mother and son. She realised now that the only reason James would be returning was to wind up the estate. Within the next few weeks she would lose her job and her little house on the grounds. Her world had tumbled down around her within seconds and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Miss Petherbridge, who prided herself on her ability to remain composed in times of stress, who by nature was dispassionate, felt the tears of self pity run down her cheeks.

 

‘Thank you for your kind offer, ma’am but I cannot accompany you.’  Lady Brockenshaw turned her head weakly on the pillow to the sound of Janey’s voice.


Why?’

Janey looked into her unseeing blue eyes. She did not want to cause her worry so smiled, hoping her smile would add truth to her lies.

‘Thanks to your excellent reference I have been offered a post in North Cornwall with a very nice family,’ she said cheerfully. The alternative would be to say, your son raped me and now I’m with child. Soon I will show and no one will employ me. I plan to walk to Bodmin to request admission to the workhouse. I will stay there with my bastard child for several years until my child is old enough to attend school. Then, I will find lodgings and employment once more. Instead she said, ‘I am to be their housekeeper. I will have my own lodgings and be nearer my mother. It will suit me very well.’  Lady Brockenshaw smiled and patted her hand, a habit she did more and more.


I am so pleased to hear this, Janey. Truly I am.’  She hesitated before adding, ‘I have been so worried for you, my dear. I am so sorry.’

Confused Janey asked,
‘Sorry? Why?’ but her ladyship was tired and just patted her hand softly again.


So pleased for you. So pleased…’ she closed her eyes exhausted, finally whispering once more, ‘…so very pleased.’ 

The news of her new positio
n soon spread through the staff. She was congratulated for her good fortune by Lizzy, Charlotte and Mrs Friggens. It seemed everything was changing and the staff was to be scattered far and wide by the events of the day. There was an atmosphere of change, anticipation and nervousness, this heightened when the servants who wished to work at the Falmouth Estate were finally allowed to pack their own meagre belongings.

 

The following day Lady Brockenshaw’s trunks were piled high in the hall and one by one they were hastily loaded onto waiting coaches. Janey hugged Charlie goodbye before placing him on Lady Brockenshaw’s lap, who sat waiting patiently inside one. Her mistress and her brother departed shortly afterwards, followed by some of the staff who rode in a third coach. Suddenly the house was empty and quiet except for Mr Tallock, Miss Petherbridge, Mrs Friggens and Janey, who stood waving goodbye on the steps. Janey knew, in her heart, she would not see Lady Brockenshaw or Charlie again.

The three senior members o
f staff, feeling abandoned, retired to the servant’s hall for a cup of tea and wait for the arrival of Lord James Brockenshaw. Mr Tallock discussed his plans to retire to Fowey with his wife, Mrs Friggens shared her dream of opening a tea and cake shop, only Miss Petherbridge remained silent. Her dream was here at Bosvenna Estate, now it was fading rapidly before her and she could do nothing to grab hold of it. Janey’s dreams had also been destroyed but unlike the housekeeper, she did have a plan. She did not join them for a cup of tea, despite an invitation from Mr Tallock. Instead she returned to her room where her packed bags lay waiting for her. She put on Daniel’s coat for warmth, grabbed her bags and her mother’s letter and descended the main stairs of the house. With her chin tilted in defiance she left Bosvenna Manor through the grand front entrance, vowing never to return to the estate again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13

 

The morning frost had not thawed by the afternoon so the brown winter grass of
the moor crunched beneath Janey’s feet. The short winter day made walking to Bodmin before nightfall impossible. Janey was hopeful that Betty, from the village, would be kind enough to offer her a bed for one night. Tomorrow she planned to wake early, walk the ten miles to the workhouse and request admission. She followed the stone hedge that skirted Daniel’s land, hoping to reduce her journey by using the short cut. She did not notice the black rolling clouds gathering in her wake, threatening to take over the sky above.

The snow fell silently behind her,
insidiously gaining pace until it engulfed her lone figure. Large, fluffy flakes of lace fell quietly around her feet, beautiful yet silent, concealing its danger within an innocent façade. Janey stopped to catch her breath and tilted her head back feeling their delicate touch upon her cheeks and lashes. She watched them fall from the sky in infinite numbers, like an army of white butterflies, weightless and gentle. She smiled at her thoughts and set off again, surprised at how quickly a white blanket had formed at her feet. The ground was so cold the snow did not melt on landing and within a short time layer upon layer had built up disguising the minor contours of the moor until a uniform smoothness spread out before her. Beautiful and clean in its whiteness, it disguised the dangers beneath.

Several times her foot disappeared in deep ditches that were hidden by the thick snow
. Such minor slips became unnerving as the light began to fade early due to the black clouds above. Janey had no choice but to continue on, as to turn back would mean being present when James Brockenshaw returned. The snow began to fall even thicker reducing her visibility to no more than a few yards. Her hands felt stiff with cold, her stockings and the hem of her dress were wet from the snow but she continued on, despite feeling tired and increasingly more fearful.

To occupy her mind
she thought of the workhouse admission procedure.  Her limited knowledge had been gained from piecing together snippets of gossip and tales told to her by other servants over the years.  This story telling was now her reality and she would have to endure it at her destination.  Initially, she would be taken to the pauper’s ward where she would stay until she could be examined by the medical officer.  Following the examination she would be allocated to the woman’s ward, have her belongings and clothes confiscated and a uniform and smock provided.  At least they would not take her baby from her to live in the children’s ward until it was two years old, she thought.

She stood and looked aroun
d and with horror realised she had lost the stone hedge. Daniel’s hedge - that was her lifeline - had become swallowed up in the curtain of snow. Everything around her was white, every direction looked the same. Every distinguishing landmark on the moor was hidden by poor visibility or a blanket of snow and Janey realised she was lost, alone and cold. Despite the light fading rapidly she trudged on, knowing she must seek shelter if she was to survive the night. She tried to tuck her hands inside Daniel’s coat sleeves to warm them but she could no longer feel them. They were stiff and pale and she looked at them as if they were foreign to her. Her mind was slowing as hypothermia threatened, as she tried to move her fingers it did not register that she no longer had her bag of belongings. During her journey, as she battled with the cold, it had fallen unseen from her numb fingers onto the silent cushion of snow. Janey had lost all sense of direction and time. She shook uncontrollably as her body desperately tried to warm itself. Her throat and lungs hurt from the cold but she continued on. Her salvation came in the form of a ruin and to her increasingly befuddled mind it looked vaguely familiar. She had come upon it suddenly, without warning, but it was no less welcome. She staggered inside the stone walls of the building on legs that trembled with fear and cold. The partially fallen in roof provided some protection from the snow while its walls gave shelter from the increasing winds. In the corner lay a pile of discarded sacking, musty smelling with age it offered a covering and meagre warmth against the freezing temperatures. Fighting to save her life and that of her baby, Janey crawled over to it on hands and knees. She lifted up the layers with her useless hands and elbows, and crawled underneath them. Exhausted she closed her eyes and fell into a deep, deep sleep.

 

A rhythmical thudding woke her. It was still dark despite the sun’s rays threatening to break the night sky. She opened her eyes but her vision was blurred, her mind refused to work and she was unsure where she was. The thudding became louder and she could make out a dark shape of a person running towards her. The noise finally stopped as the figure slid to a halt at her side and the sacking was pulled roughly away from her body exposing her to the cold air and the growing light. She closed her eyes, unable to tolerate the harshness of reality. Daniel’s coat was stripped from her and she feared she was being robbed. Her body started to shake uncontrollably with fear and cold as she believed she had learnt how her life would end, a wisdom she did not wish to have. Suddenly her arms were threaded through the sleeves of a thicker coat that still exuded warmth from the previous wearer. It wrapped around her like a comforting hug and instantly provided the warmth that the other coat did not. She tried to open her eyes but she could not, she tried to speak but only a jumbled moan escaped her lips. Her hands were then wrapped in something warm and a scarf tenderly placed around her head. Suddenly the tension in her muscles that had, up to that point, tried to hold in heat relaxed and her body went limp. Finally she felt herself being lifted up and cradled in her rescuer’s arms and carried to safety. She put her arm around his shoulders, buried her cheek into his neck and held on tight to her saviour. Her thoughts remained slowed, she had difficulty performing the simplest of actions, she could not even speak, but there was one thing she was able to do. She was still able to recognise the smell of sandalwood and know whose arms carried her now.

BOOK: Old Sins Long Shadows
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