Hope. Part 43

Nell perched on the bed supporting the baby, so tired she felt she could drop to the floor at any minute, but she knew she couldn't go back to bed until Betsy's hunger was satisfied and she was back in her crib.

She could have understood Hope's reaction better if she'd been informed officially of Bennett's death. But the Captain clearly didn't think he was dead, so why should Hope believe it to be so?

After some twenty minutes of feeding, Betsy fell asleep. Nell took her from Hope's breast and winded her, then put her back into the crib. As she turned back to Hope, she saw she hadn't even covered her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

'Can't you even cover yourself?' Nell said angrily. 'Do you know how tired I am? Can't you think of anyone but yourself?'

There was no reply, and Nell was so incensed that she slapped Hope's face hard. But it had no effect her sister just lay there as before, as if she couldn't see, hear or feel anything.

'You're wicked,' she shouted. 'Even the most miserable wretches that end up in the workhouse will take care of their own. As soon as it's light I'm going to send for Dr Cunningham, because I don't know what to do with you any more.'

She left the room then, fearing she'd do the girl a mischief if she remained with her.

'I don't know what to do, Master Rufus,' Nell sobbed when he dropped by the next morning. 'I'm all in, I can't do no more.'

Rufus had been in Keynsham collecting some corn for his chickens and on an impulse decided to stop off at Willow End to see Hope and her baby. The moment he saw Nell he knew something was drastically wrong. Her eyes were puffy with crying and she looked completely exhausted.

Then she related how it had been for her in the last ten days since Captain Pettigrew's letter and began crying again, sobbing out that she was afraid Hope would end up in an asylum.

Rufus hadn't seen Hope since the day she came over to the gatehouse, but Matt and Amy had called just a few days after Betsy's birth and they'd reported back to him that both mother and child were doing well, in fact they said they'd never seen a happier new mother.

He hadn't heard about the letter from Angus Pettigrew, however. If he had, he would have called immediately.

Rufus could well imagine that getting such a shock so soon after giving birth would be shattering, but like Nell he couldn't understand why it would make Hope reject her baby.

Nell showed him the letter from Angus, but to him it didn't sound unduly alarming, for there were only three or four lines about Bennett and the rest was taken up with what the Captain had been doing and the plans for yet another bombardment of Sebastopol.

'He wouldn't have written about Bennett's sickness so lightly if he thought there was a possibility he might die,' Rufus said.

'No, he wouldn't,' Nell sobbed. 'But it is suspicious that Bennett hasn't written himself. Even if he was so poorly he couldn't hold a pen, surely he would have asked someone to write for him?'

Rufus agreed on that point, but he had no intention of encouraging Nell to think the worst. 'He probably did, but it just hasn't got here,' he said firmly. 'Now, you go and rest, Nell. I'll go and talk to Hope.'

Rufus walked into Hope's room without knocking and went straight to the window to pull the curtains back. Betsy was asleep in her crib, but as he turned back from the window and saw how much Hope had changed since he last sawher before the birth, his heart sank.

She had been glowing then, her cheeks pink and plump, her eyes sparkling the way they did when she was a young girl. Now her face was thin, white and drawn, and her dark eyes were blank and lifeless.

He sat on the edge of the bed and took one of her hands in his. 'This won't do, Hope,' he said gently. 'I've read the letter from Angus and there is nothing in it to suggest Bennett is dead. You know perfectly well that post can be delayed for weeks coming from the East. And, as Nell says, bad news travels at twice the speed of good. If he had died you would have been informed by now.'

'They've buried him without knowing who he was,' she replied, her face contorted by grief. 'That happened many times out there.'

'Maybe it did with rank and file, but not officers,' he insisted. 'Nell has written back asking Angus to find out more. But meanwhile you must remember you are a mother and have a duty to take care of Betsy.'

'I can't,' she said wearily.

'You named her after your friend who died. You didn't neglect her in her hour of need. You st.i.tched up the Captain when he was wounded, and nursed countless other men too. Are you telling me they were more important than your own little baby?'

'You don't understand,' she said, turning her head away from him.

Rufus put his hand on her cheek and drew her head round to face him again. 'Just because I'm a man without a child of my own doesn't mean I can't understand the torment you are in. I have taken care of my mother since Briargate was burned down; I've dealt with her endless self-recriminations, the tears and the explosions of rage. There were days she couldn't wash or dress herself, when she wouldn't eat, and paced the floor at night instead of sleeping. I was afraid that I might have to put her in an asylum. Nell is afraid that is where you are heading.'

'They can put me anywhere; it's all the same to me.'

'I don't believe that,' Rufus exclaimed, his voice rising in agitation. 'You might feel like that now, but you can beat it because you are strong. You have to get out of that bed, pick Betsy up and think only of her. In a little while you'll find she will be a comfort to you.'

'What do you know?' she snarled at him. 'You grew up in luxury. While you were still sleeping in your featherbed I was clearing the grates, scrubbing floors, carrying your d.a.m.ned mother's slops, even cleaning up your father's vomit. If it wasn't for Bennett I'd have been forced to live my whole life in a rookery. I might have had to sell myself just to eat. I can't live without him.'

'You can if you have to,' Rufus said, holding her two arms and shaking her a little. 'Remember, you are the girl who ran away from Albert, who had the courage to stay away because you didn't want him to hurt Nell. You bravely worked in St Peter's, nursing those whom no one else would. Angus wrote home and told us that the men over in the Crimea worshipped you for what you did for them. A woman who can do all those things can nurse her own baby, even if her heart is breaking.'

She stared at him with blank eyes. 'Loving Bennett was what made me strong then,' she said. 'He filled up all the empty places inside me. You don't know what that's like.'

Rufus looked at her, and tenderly stroked her face. 'Don't I? You think you are the only one with empty places inside you? I might have slept in a featherbed, Hope, but I never had the kind of love you had from your family. My father was either out somewhere or drunk, and Mother only spent an hour a day with me at most. It was Ruth and Nell who took care of me and I always envied you because you had their love. Have you any idea what h.e.l.l I went through at school? Beaten by the masters and the older boys, half-starved, always cold during the winter. I felt I was sent away as a punishment, but I didn't understand what I'd done to deserve it.

'As for the years after you disappeared, I had nothing and no one at Briargate, not you, not Nell, no one. Baines was too old to do anything; Mother and Father skulked in the study while Albert strutted around like he was lord and master. It was h.e.l.l at school, but misery at home.'

He sawa slight softening in her expression and knew he must continue.

'I only went to Oxford to get away,' he said. 'But I never fitted in there either. They called me "Farm Boy", and other crude terms I can't repeat. It was only at Matt's farm that I felt I was worth something.'

Betsy began to cry and Rufus got off the bed and went over to the crib.

'h.e.l.lo, little one,' he said, bending to pick her up. 'Now, stop s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g your face up like that, it doesn't become you.'

Holding her against his shoulder, he stood by the window with her. 'Your mother saved my life years ago,' he told the baby. 'She once said that she was angry that her mother had given up and died and left her alone. Personally I thought that was a bit strong, after all, the poor woman was very sick. What do you think, Betsy? Should a mother put her husband or her child first? Would you understand if your mother turned her back on you because she was afraid of living without your father?'

He heard a faint sniff from behind him, and knew Hope was crying.

'She was the prettiest, funniest, liveliest girl for miles around,' he went on, kissing Betsy's little head. 'Brave as a lion, kind, caring and as sharp as a box of knives. Not the kind of person you'd expect to end her days in an asylum at all. I hoped too that she was going to come up to Briargate soon and give me her opinion on whether I could turn the stables into a house for Lily and me.'

He turned as the sobbing became louder. Hope was distraught, tears pouring down her face as her head thrashed from side to side on the pillow.

Nell had told him that Hope hadn't cried, apart from briefly when the letter first arrived. She said it was as though her sister's spirit had left her and all that was left was a sh.e.l.l. But as he looked at Hope now he thought maybe these tears were necessary to free that spirit from whatever dark place it had hidden itself in.

It hurt to watch her anguish he wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her. But he had Betsy in his arms and he knew that his role today must be as her protector.

So he watched and waited patiently until Hope's tears began to subside and she fumbled for a handkerchief to blow her nose and dry her eyes. She looked terrible, her face blotchy and red and her eyes swollen. But it was better than the blank nothingness there had been before.

'You'll feed her now,' he said. It was an order, not a question, and he was relieved when she nodded.

'Good girl,' he said, and laid Betsy on the bed for a moment. He helped Hope sit up, wiped the tears from her cheeks and plumped the pillows up behind her back, then put the infant in her arms.

'I'd like to stay and keep you company while you feed her,' he said with a smile. 'But I don't think Nell would approve of that! I'll be downstairs, though just call when you've finished.'

He paused at the door, relieved to see she was cradling Betsy tenderly.

'You aren't alone, Hope,' he said softly. 'You've got so many people who love you. Come what may, we'll never desert you.'

Rufus felt as if he'd been wrung out as he walked downstairs and into the kitchen. Nell was still slumped at the table.

'She's feeding Betsy now,' he said, putting his hand on Nell's bowed shoulders. 'I'll stay for the rest of the day, now go and lie down.'

'But there's meals to be got, napkins to wash,' Nell protested.

'Dora can do that,' he said gently, for he could see Nell was almost as distraught as Hope. 'It won't hurt to let things slide for now. You've worked so hard all your life, Nell, it's high time you took a rest when you need one.'

He helped her to her feet and hugged her to him. It seemed such a short time ago that he had been a little boy running to her and burying his head in her soft b.r.e.a.s.t.s for comfort. Now she was the small one, her head only reaching his chest, and he hoped he was comforting her.

'I think she'll be all right now,' he said soothingly. 'You Rentons are made of stern stuff. I'll write to the Captain today too. Now the war over there is drawing to a close, maybe he can go to Scutari and find Bennett for us.'

Three weeks later, Rufus arrived at Willow End again, this time with a pony and buggy, to take Hope and Betsy to see his mother.

He felt a surge of absolute delight when Hope came out eagerly, wearing a becoming red hat with a jaunty feather, and with Betsy tucked beneath her red-checked cloak. Rufus had been in and out several times in the last three weeks, and although Hope still hadn't heard anything more about Bennett she appeared only worried and tense, not melancholic.

Yet today she looked really well again, her smile bright and her colour good. A little thin, perhaps Nell had reported she wasn't eating very well. But she looked much better.

Nell was just behind them. As always, she wore a snowy-white ap.r.o.n over her dark dress and a lace-trimmed mob cap.

Rufus jumped down from the buggy and took Betsy from Hope's arms, pretending to nearly drop her. 'My goodness, you're getting heavy. I don't know if Flash will want to pull you all that way!'

'She's a greedy girl and no mistake,' Nell said fondly. 'And you take good care of them, Rufus, and get them back before dark.'

'It's so good to see the sun again, even if it is very cold,' Hope said. She sprang up into the buggy and held out her arms for the baby. 'All that rain we've had! I haven't set foot outside for the past four days.'

'This might be the last good day before winter comes upon us,' Rufus said. 'The animals' drinking troughs were iced over this morning, and all the leaves have come down now.'

He got up into the buggy beside Hope, tucked a rug over her knees and pulled her cloak a little closer over the baby. Then, lifting his cap to Nell, he clicked at the horse and they set off down the road.

Hope leaned out beyond the buggy's hood and waved goodbye to Nell. 'She isn't entirely happy about me going to Briargate. There's something between her and your mother; do you know what it is?'

Rufus glanced sideways at her and grinned. 'Reckon it's just that business of Mother not supporting her when you disappeared.'

'I don't think it's that,' Hope said thoughtfully. 'She isn't one to bear a grudge, and besides, she's far happier now as Angus's housekeeper. It's more to do with me. She doesn't seem to like the idea of me seeing your mother.'

'Nell's just stuck in the old ways,' Rufus said lightly as the horse broke into a trot. 'She can't quite deal with the idea of her young sister taking tea with her ladyship.'

'Then I must be very careful not to offend her ladyship with unseemly behaviour, and you must report back that I struck just the right note of gentility and respect,' Hope replied with laughter in her voice. 'Oh, Rufus, it's so good to be out in the fresh air. I am well again, but Nell is not entirely convinced of that.'

Hope's memory of what Nell tactfully referred to as 'when she wasn't quite herself' was very hazy. She had been told bluntly by Dora that she was completely mad, that she refused to feed or even hold Betsy, and that Nell had been in despair. Looking down at Betsy swaddled in shawls in her arms, Hope found it difficult to believe that she could have done such a thing. But she could recall a feeling that she was drowning in some kind of all-enveloping black swamp.

Strangely, she was aware that it was Rufus who pulled her from that swamp with his confidences about his childhood, for she could recall most of what he had said that day. She had always perceived him as being so fortunate that it was something of a shock to discover he had felt unloved and cast off, and that his years at school had been so miserable. Later, when she came to think about how hard he'd had to work to make a new life for himself and his mother since his father's death, she felt very ashamed of herself.

Her fears for Bennett hadn't diminished; if anything, they'd grown stronger each day without word from him or about him. But when she felt most wretched she would think about all the soldiers who were killed in action, buried up by the river Alma and at Balaclava in unmarked graves.

She knew none of their widows would have the comforts she had, but she was quite sure that however desperate their circ.u.mstances they would not abandon their children. She could count herself fortunate to have so many friends and family around her to support her, and for Betsy's sake she must keep up a brave front.

Yet even with the best will in the world it wasn't possible to be brave at night when the fear that she might have to live without Bennett washed over her like a scalding flood. Often it was so bad she would stuff the sheet into her mouth to stop herself crying out. She might have the security of knowing Nell and Uncle Abel would never see her and Betsy homeless, but it was Bennett and his love she needed to survive.

Every single day she waited with trepidation for the post. There had been two more letters from Angus, but they were full of the news of Sebastopol falling, of riding into the city and the sights of devastation he'd seen there, for he hadn't yet received any of her or Nell's letters asking about Bennett.

She had written to the Rifle Brigade barracks at Winchester to ask if they could tell her anything, and to Dr Anderson at the Balaclava hospital, asking him if could enlighten her about what had happened. She had also penned several letters to Bennett too at Scutari, hoping they would reach him. They were so difficult to write, for if he was alive but very sick, she couldn't worry him by showing her fears and anxiety. But to be forced to write bright breezy notes about his beautiful daughter and the mundane news of home when in her heart she felt he'd never read them, was almost impossible.

There were times too when she felt like raging at the normality all around her. It didn't seem right that while her mind was tormented with whether he was alive or dead, Nell was asking her what she'd like to eat for dinner, or should they go into Keynsham and buy some material for a newdress?

The newspapers continued to report on the progress of the war. Sebastopol had fallen on 9 September, which indicated peace would soon be declared. Yet it riled Hope that all anyone seemed to be interested in was who would be commended for valour, or promoted. The government didn't appear to be making any plans for the wounded, who might never be able to work again, or for the wives and families of the men who had died out there.

She knew Uncle Abel was lobbying anyone he could for information about Bennett, but even he had told her quite sharply that he also had patients to attend to.

She silently cursed the time it took post to reach England; the restraints of motherhood had prevented her from going to Winchester and demanding an explanation from the regiment in person. She told herself it was only three months since the date Bennett last wrote, which in reality wasn't so very long, but it seemed like eternity to her.

'I really don't know how Mother will hold up this winter,' Rufus said as they drove through the village of Corston. 'Last year she was crippled with rheumatism and stayed in bed a great deal, and I can only expect that it will be worse this year.'

'It must be a very bleak life for her,' Hope said in sympathy, thinking back to the days when Nell dressed her and arranged her hair, and she went out visiting in her carriage most afternoons. 'Does anyone call to see her?'

'Not really,' he sighed. 'Reverend Gosling does, and the Warrens, but their visits are becoming less frequent. I can't blame them, for she can be so very odd and difficult. I feel I ought to stay in with her more than I do, but how can I when there is so much to do on the farm?'

He turned his head and smiled at Hope. 'But let's not talk about gloomy things. We must make the most of today, and I can hardly wait to show you my plans for the stable block. It will make a good-sized house, and as the roof is good, and the pump right outside the door, it won't cost too much. Matt, Joe and Henry have all offered to help me, and Geoffrey Calway will do the carpentry.'

'He must be getting old now,' Hope said, remembering the man who made her parents' coffins. 'How is his wife? She was very kind to me when Mother and Father died.'

'Still as funny as ever,' Rufus said. 'You were probably too young then to appreciate what a character she is seeing her is like getting a dose of sunshine. But then, the village is full of good people. When Bennett returns I think you should come back. There is no doctor now, everyone is always complaining about it.'

Hope liked the positive way he said 'when' Bennett returns. 'I'd like that,' she said, imagining living in a little cottage on the common, close enough to walk to Matt and Rufus, and Betsy growing up doing all the things she did as a child.

'Nearly there now,' he said as they went past the signpost to Hunstrete. 'Let's just hope Mother is in one of her better moods today. She seemed very pleased when I left that she was going to see Betsy today, she had even put on her best dress. But her moods are like the weather, I never know when they are going to change.'

Rufus's fears that his mother might be difficult appeared ungrounded when she came out of the gatehouse door and greeted them warmly. Hope could see she'd taken a lot of care with her appearance. Her hair was arranged almost as well as Nell used to do it, and she had a cream lace collar on her mourning dress to enliven it a little.

'You can't imagine how excited I've been at the thought of seeing your baby,' she said, as she ushered them into the warm by the fire. 'May I hold her?'

Perhaps because this time Hope was prepared for how prematurely old and thin her former mistress had become, she felt more comfortable. She was touched too that the woman was so eager to hold Betsy. And she took her in her arms with all the care and delight that Nell and Dora did.

Hope offered to make some tea while Lady Harvey nursed the baby, and they chatted easily while Rufus went off for a while to take Flash up to the stable and attend to some small jobs.

'I am so sorry to hear about your husband,' the older woman said, her lined face showing real sympathy. 'But you mustn't worry, my dear, I'm quite sure you'll hear from him very soon.'

Hope told her about the letters she'd written and everything Uncle Abel had done. She avoided mentioning Angus for fear that might open doors in Lady Harvey's mind that were better kept closed.

On this visit Hope even felt able to put aside the shocking events which had taken place in the gatehouse. Lady Harvey pointed out various bits of furniture, pictures and rugs which had been sent up from Suss.e.x by her sisters.

'Sometimes I find it quite hard to imagine that I ever lived in a big house,' she said quite cheerfully. 'The last few years up there weren't very pleasant. We were often very cold; at least this cottage is warm and cosy.'

She showed Hope the new kitchen with pride, and it seemed absurd that this woman who had rarely set foot in the kitchen up at the big house could be so delighted that the new stove had two ovens, or that she should boast she had a stewcooking in one of them that she'd made completely by herself.

'I'm not a bad cook now,' she laughed merrily. 'Mrs Webb from the village used to come and give me lessons when I first came here. I put a rice pudding in the very hot oven one day and it boiled over and made a terrible mess. But I get better at it every day. I can even make cakes.'

Hope was impressed; she'd imagined that Lady Harvey could do little for herself, but this clearly wasn't so.

She fed Betsy a short while later and was just tucking her into a laundry basket to sleep when Rufus came back. He grinned delightedly to find everything was going well, and Hope guessed that he'd been convinced it wasn't going to be so.