A Mother's Wish (17 page)

‘I’ll scream if a rat jumps out at me. Goodness knows what’s lurking inside the cupboards if the mess outside is anything to go by.’ Effie settled Georgie on her hip while she explored the kitchen, peering nervously
into cupboards and drawers. She found some clean, if dusty, cups and plates in the dresser, and a reasonably fresh loaf of bread on the larder shelf. She wrinkled her nose at the rancid stench emanating from a lump of mouldy cheese, and a tub of lard studded with what she thought at first were currants and on closer inspection turned out to be dead flies. She closed the door on such abominations and sat Georgie down in the rocking chair, where he flopped listlessly like a rag doll. ‘I hope he’s not sickening for something,’ she said anxiously as she poured warm milk onto some crumbled bread.

‘He’s caught the sun and he must be worn out,’ Toby said soothingly. ‘All he needs is some food and a good night’s sleep.’

Effie was not convinced, but she was relieved when Georgie took a little of the bread and milk, although he fell asleep after a few mouthfuls.

Toby took a caddy from the mantelshelf and spooned tea leaves into a brown china teapot. ‘Nothing changes here,’ he said, adding boiling water. ‘Everything is kept in exactly the same place as when I was a nipper.’ He set the pot on the hob to brew and turned his attention to toasting the bread and scrambling the eggs.

Effie watched him with a degree of
surprise. This was a side of Toby Tapper that she could never have imagined, and quite different from the image he assumed as a womanising scallywag and dealer in horses of uncertain origin. Her curiosity was aroused as she realised how little she knew of him and how much of his character she had taken at face value. ‘How long did you live in this house, Toby?’

‘Like I said before, I was born here, and I was only seven when Ma died. She nursed the master through a bout of smallpox, but she caught it herself and was dead within days. He survived but the illness seemed to send the old man a bit mad, and he sent me to live with my mother’s people. They were good to me in their fashion, but I was not one of them. My mixed blood went against me as much with the Roma as with the gorgios.’

Effie was quick to note the pain behind his words and her heart went out to him. ‘Poor little boy, you must have been very unhappy.’

‘Not a bit of it.’ Toby’s insouciant smile banished the wistful look and he set the plates of food on the table. ‘Come and eat while it’s hot.’ He poured the tea and handed a cup to Effie. ‘You must be tired, Effie. I’ll show you your room when you’ve finished your meal.’

‘Where will you sleep?’

‘Don’t worry, Effie. I’ll take the chair by the range.’ His lips twitched and his eyes twinkled merrily. ‘You’re in no danger from me.’

She was too tired to think of a suitable response. She had never thought of Toby in a romantic light, but his cheerful words did nothing for her self-confidence. She knew she must look a sight with her bruised face, tangled hair and travel-stained clothes, but she found herself wondering how Frank would have behaved in a similar situation. She had done her best to put him out of her mind, but the knowledge that they had parted for good was weighing her down so that she felt close to despair. She had never thought to love again, but now it seemed that she was doomed to lose the men closest to her heart. Sadness and loneliness threatened to engulf her. She would have welcomed a loving hug from a man’s arms, even if it was Toby who held her and told her that everything would be all right in the end. She raised her eyes and realised with a jolt of surprise that he was staring at her intently. ‘What’s the matter?’ she demanded anxiously. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘You were thinking of him, weren’t you?’

‘No, I was not.’ She took a mouthful of toast and chewed it, but her throat was so tight that she found it almost impossible to swallow.
She gulped and took a sip of tea. ‘I’m tired, that’s all.’

‘Of course you are.’ Toby’s expression lightened. ‘Eat up and we’ll get you both to bed. Things will look better in the morning, I promise you.’

The Blue Room proved to be large and sparsely furnished. In the flickering light of a candle, Effie could see a chest of drawers standing on the bare boards beneath the mullioned window. There was a washstand with nothing but rings in the dust to show that it had once boasted a jug and basin, and she noted that there were no towels hanging from the rail. There was also a marked absence of curtains hanging at the window or from the tester on the large four-poster bed that dominated the room.

‘Nellie seems to have been extremely thorough when it came to selling off Mr Westlake’s possessions,’ Toby said, placing the candlestick on the washstand. ‘I suppose the furniture will be the next to go to the auction rooms.’

Effie lifted the bedcovers with a sigh of relief. ‘At least she’s left the bedding. We’ll be comfortable enough tonight, Toby.’ She laid Georgie on the pillow without waking him. ‘It may be wishful thinking, but he seems to be a little cooler now.’

‘I’m sure he’ll be fine in the morning,’ Toby said, patting her gently on the shoulder. ‘I’m going downstairs, but I’d advise you to lock the door when I’ve gone.’

‘Goodnight, Toby. Thank you for everything.’

‘Get some sleep, Effie. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.’

She followed him to the door but when she went to lock it she discovered that the key was missing. She was too exhausted to worry about such a triviality and she lay down beside Georgie, pulling the bedcovers up to her chin. She was certain that the bedding was damp, but she had kept her clothes on. Tomorrow they would leave this horrible old house and be on their way to find Tom. She closed her eyes and slipped into a deep sleep, but vivid dreams disturbed her slumbers. She was out on the marsh, following the fairy lights into a cold, thick mist. She could not see and she was sinking into the boggy ground. She could not move. She was shivering and ice-cold. She opened her eyes and in the half-light she found herself gazing into the pockmarked face of a man with a mane of black hair and wild blue eyes. He smelled as if he had not washed for a year at least, and his breath stank of stale brandy and a substance that
she did not recognise. His hands were tugging at the bedclothes and the weight of his body made it impossible for her to move. She opened her mouth and screamed.

‘
MIRELLA, DON’T BE
frightened. You’ve come back to me, my darling, and you’ve brought the boy.’

Effie’s heart was beating a tattoo against her ribs. She realised that this madman must be Mr Westlake, the master of the house. She was terrified and yet she felt pity for the tortured soul who gazed at her with such passion. ‘I am not Mirella,’ she whispered. ‘My name is Effie. Your housekeeper allowed us to stay for one night.’

‘I am not mad, Mirella. She says I am out of my mind, but she is wrong. They are all trying to get my money and my land. You must help me, my love.’

Effie edged up the bed until she was in a sitting position. ‘I will help you,’ she said, forcing herself to remain calm. ‘But first you must allow me to get out of bed.’

‘I could slip in beside you,’ Mr Westlake said, reaching out to cup her breast with one hand while he tugged at the cord of his robe with the other. ‘We will keep each other warm as we did in the old days, my love.’

Effie pushed his hand away and she snatched Georgie up in her arms, but her fear for her own safety was forgotten when she realised that her small son was burning up with fever. She called his name but he did not open his eyes. She kicked the bedclothes off with all her strength, sending her would-be seducer tumbling onto the floor. ‘Get off me, you horrible man. Can’t you see that my baby is sick?’ With Georgie in her arms she tried to escape but Mr Westlake caught her by the wrist.

‘Run away, would you, lady? This is no time to play games. I’ve fallen for your wiles too often, Mirella.’ He scrambled to his feet, but in doing so he loosened his hold and Effie kicked out at him, catching the side of his head with her bare foot. She ran for the door but he was close on her heels. She was sobbing uncontrollably with Georgie clutched to her breast when the door opened and Nellie Halfpenny erupted into the room, followed by Toby.

‘What are you doing here, master?’ Nellie stood, arms akimbo, glaring at her employer who had fallen to his knees, bowing his head and clutching his arms around his body.

‘She’s tormenting me again, Nellie. The harlot has returned to tease the life out of me.’

Toby slipped his arm around Effie’s shoulders. ‘Are you all right? Did he hurt you?’

She was trembling from head to foot but she managed to shake her head. ‘N-no. I’m fine, but Georgie is ill. He’s burning up with a fever and I don’t know what’s wrong with him.’

Nellie took off her shawl and wrapped it around her master’s thin shoulders. ‘Look at you, Mr Westlake, wandering about in your nightshirt. What will the young lady think?’

He shot a sly glance at Effie. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time, would it, my love? Don’t play the innocent, Mirella.’

‘Take him to his room, Nellie,’ Toby said angrily. ‘Give him something to calm his nerves.’

‘Come with me, Master Seymour.’ Nellie helped him to his feet, speaking in the gentle tone she might have used to a small child. ‘Let me take you to your room and I’ll give you some medicine to make you feel better.’

‘Very well,’ Seymour said reluctantly. ‘I am a little tired.’

‘And you must rest now.’ Nellie led him towards the door. ‘Don’t worry, ducks,’ she murmured in Effie’s ear. ‘He’s harmless but he gets a bit confused at times. Best keep out of his way.’

‘What did you say, Nellie?’ Seymour demanded. ‘Don’t talk about me behind my back.’ He shook off her restraining hand and,
holding himself erect, he marched out of the room without a backward glance.

Toby closed the door. ‘You’d best put the boy back to bed, and I’ll go for the doctor.’

Georgie had gone limp in her arms and Effie laid him on the pillows. ‘He’s got a rash,’ she said anxiously as she examined his chest. ‘I think it’s measles.’

‘That’s all the more reason for me to ride out and fetch a physician.’

‘Don’t leave me in this awful place, Toby. Mr Westlake scares me and Mrs Halfpenny made it clear that she doesn’t want us here. Couldn’t we take Georgie back to Bow? I’m sure Ben would take us in for a night or two at least. I could work in the bar to pay for the room and board.’

Toby shook his head. ‘The journey would only make his condition worse, and Maggie Hawkins wouldn’t allow you anywhere near her children for fear of them catching the disease. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here until Georgie is well again.’

‘It killed many young ones in the workhouse,’ Effie whispered. ‘Georgie might die.’

‘Not if I have anything to do with it, girl. I’ll be back in no time at all.’

There was little that Effie could do other than wait for Toby to return with the doctor. She ventured down to the kitchen while
Georgie slept, returning quickly with a jug of water and a piece of cloth with which she bathed his head and fevered limbs. He tossed and turned on the pillows and when he opened his eyes briefly he did not seem to recognise her. Effie knelt by the bedside and prayed for his recovery. Death had robbed her of those she loved most in the world, and the dark days spent in the workhouse had left their imprint on her forever. She found it almost impossible to believe in a loving and forgiving god. She had seen very little mercy or genuine charity shown to the poor and needy, but she was willing to promise anything to a higher power that would spare her son. She buried her face in her hands, murmuring the prayers that she had been taught in the workhouse chapel.

‘Much good that’ll do you.’

Effie had not heard the door open and she was startled by the sound of Nellie’s voice and the thud as she set a tray down on the washstand.

‘I’ve brought you a cup of tea and a bit of bread and dripping. You got to keep your strength up.’

This unexpected act of kindness came as a shock after Nellie’s less than enthusiastic reception the previous evening. Effie rose to her feet with a gallant attempt at a smile.
‘Thank you. That was a kind thought and I’m sorry to be so much trouble to you, especially after what happened last night. Is Mr Westlake feeling better today?’

‘He’s sleeping off a dose of laudanum. He won’t bother you again.’

‘He called me Mirella,’ Effie said, treading delicately in case she upset the fiery little woman who appeared to be devoted to her master. ‘He must have mistaken me for someone he was very fond of. Who was Mirella?’

‘She was Toby’s mother, and this was her room.’ Nellie said tersely. ‘And before you go prying into things that don’t concern you, I can tell you that there was talk at the time, but it was idle gossip. The master was devoted to his wife and Marsh House was a different place to what it is today.’

‘Mrs Westlake is dead?’

‘The poor lady was ill for many years. She suffered from a wasting disease that left her weak and crippled. It must be twenty-five years since she died.’

A whimper from Georgie momentarily distracted Effie, and she picked him up. He quietened instantly and she rocked him gently in her arms. Nellie was about to leave the room but Effie was still curious. ‘Toby said that his mother worked here as a maid,
and yet this was her room. Isn’t it a bit odd?’

‘Mirella Tapper descended on us like a wild March wind,’ Nellie said, pursing her lips. ‘She was a gypsy girl who had run away from an arranged marriage, or so she said.’

‘And she was beautiful?’

‘Oh yes, she had looks and she could charm the birds out of the trees if she put her mind to it. She could sing like a lark and she brought springtime into a winter house. It weren’t surprising that the poor mistress took a fancy to her, and Mirella was the only servant she would tolerate to tend to her personal needs.’

‘And Mr Westlake liked her too.’

Nellie cackled with laughter. ‘That’s one way of putting it. The master was bewitched from the first moment young Mirella danced into our lives. It was like having a creature of the forest captured and tamed after a fashion, but there was always the wild gypsy streak in her that could not be denied.’