The Winter Orphan

‘Yes, sir – a few months back, in the autumn last year. He tried to run away and the master caught him and brought him back. He said he would be whipped and told us it was a warning to us all, but we never saw him again.’

‘What was the boy’s name?’

‘It was a bit like yours, sir – Arthur Meaks. But he was not meek, sir. He was always in trouble and being punished, and then he was gone.’

‘Did no one tell you where he’d gone?’

‘The mistress said he’d been sent to work for a master but I do not know where, for I never saw him again after the master dragged him away – and when I asked Florrie, she was upset and said it was best not to speak of it.’

‘Thank you,’ Arthur said. ‘You have helped me, Bella – and if ever you need my help, you may send word to me here.’

He handed her a small white card with some letters printed on it. The writing meant nothing to Bella but she tucked it inside her bodice with her precious florin. Other people knew how to read and something told her that one day she might want to contact this man again.

‘Thank you, sir.’ She hesitated but then did not ask for help, because where could she go if he took her away from here? Bella did not want to return to the workhouse and there was nowhere else for her to go. Here her master generally ignored her and Annie was sometimes kind; she thought there might be far worse places than the one she already had and so she held her thoughts inside.

‘Goodbye, Bella,’ Mr Stoneham said. ‘I will come to see you another day and if there is something you wish to tell me you may do so then.’

Bella watched as he left the kitchen and then set about gathering another kettle and some clean linen. Annie would want to wash and she would need a cup of tea.

CHAPTER 5 (#u80e1b11f-8d03-5344-a6e4-4e8acaa5fcc5)

‘He will expose us and then what shall we do?’ Mistress Brent cried and glared at her husband. ‘We shall be cast into prison and it is all your fault for selling those babies!’

‘You have been quick to take your share of the money,’ her husband grunted. He raised a knotted fist to her, clenching it in her face. ‘Stop your complaining, woman. This man can know nothing, for who would tell him? Only a child who is probably half dead by now. The new parents will not speak for they are equally guilty in this – and this business with that interfering fool will all go away.’

‘But what if they come here and search?’ she said and whimpered as he struck the side of her head. Her eyes were large and accusing as she looked at him. ‘I have sold children but you have done much worse and I will not hang for you.’

‘Be quiet, you fool!’ He rounded on her and struck her several times about the face and head, making her shriek and cower in fear. ‘Whatever I have done, you played your part and do not forget it. If they hang me you will hang too – for I’ll make certain you’re implicated in it all.’

Mistress Brent stared after him with resentful eyes as he left the room. When they’d first come here she’d thought it would be a good life, but he’d made it all go bad. She hated him and yet she feared to leave him. Walter was a violent man and he would never let her go because what she knew could hang him. She went to the little washstand in the corner of her room and bathed her face in cold water. There would be a bruise, which she would struggle to cover with powder and rouge.

She was frightened of the man who had come to investigate them, but even more terrified of her husband. If he thought she had betrayed him, he would not hesitate to kill her as he had those others … It crossed her mind that she might throw herself on Mr Stoneham’s mercy, confess her part and tell all in return for indemnity, but she could not bring herself to do it. Even if she was not imprisoned, she would never again find herself in a position of trust and plenty. She would be poor and homeless and the thought of ending her days in a workhouse like this terrified her.

No, she must remain silent as Walter bid her. Perhaps this Mr Stoneham would become bored and return to wherever he had come from …

Toby Rattan was waiting for Arthur when he returned to the inn later that day. Arthur greeted his closest friend warmly and shook his hand. The younger son of a lord, Toby had helped him with his charitable work many times and he had a feeling he was going to need his assistance before he was finished here.

‘It was good of you to come straight down, Toby.’

‘I came as soon as I got your note.’ Toby arched his brows wickedly. ‘How is it that you manage to get into a scrape whenever I am not with you?’

‘It must be fate,’ Arthur said, and laughed. ‘Would you believe it – I come fresh from having overseen a child delivered to the local chain-maker’s wife.’

‘Good grief!’ Toby looked thunderstruck. ‘You never cease to amaze me. Now tell me what is behind all this and what you were doing in that poor woman’s bedchamber in the first place.’

‘I went in search of a workhouse child I’d been told had been sold to the chain-maker.’

‘Ah, I might have known it would have something to do with a workhouse!’ Toby nodded in perfect understanding. ‘Pray tell me more. It was damned boring in London without you so I may as well give you a hand. What is going on down here?’

‘You stupid little wretch!’ Mistress Brent struck the child in a fury, sending her sprawling to the floor. She stood over the trembling girl and glared at her. ‘Get up and stop looking at me as if I were a two-headed monster. If you do not obey the rules, you will be punished.’

Florrie watched as Sophie scrambled to her feet and stood trembling before the mistress, expecting another blow and all because she had dared to ask for a second piece of bread at breakfast.

‘Get out of my sight or I will thrash you!’ Mistress Brent said, and the small child ran down the corridor and out of sight.

Florrie hesitated and then stepped forward. ‘That was not necessary, mistress. The child was given only a scrap of bread for her breakfast and she was hungry.’

‘She is a greedy glutton – and you had best mind your tongue, Florrie, or I may rescind your privileges.’

‘You do not own me,’ Florrie said and raised her eyes to meet those of her furious mistress. She was not sure where the courage to defy Norma Brent had come from, but she was no longer afraid of her. ‘I could find work elsewhere, as you well know. I stayed here because it suited me – but you sent Bella away and now you mistreat Sophie. You should be more careful, Mistress Brent. Inquiries are being made concerning you and the master – and some of us know things that you would not wish spoken of!’

‘How dare you threaten me!’ Mistress Brent raised her hand as if to strike Florrie, her eyes glittering with fury. ‘You would find it hard to live outside these walls, Florrie – and if you wish to leave you owe money for your keep.’

Florrie refused to back down and continued to face her. There had been a time when she feared the mistress, the more so because she had not thought she could manage to live outside these walls, but since Bella had been sent away, Florrie had begun to realise how much she hated her life here and these people who ruled the inmates with harsh cruelty. Of course there were rules; there had to be, for the workhouse was there to ease the plight of the destitute – but when run by corrupt and greedy masters like the Brents it became a place of suffering and sometimes worse.

‘I have earned my keep – as any magistrate would testify.’

Mistress Brent lowered her gaze before the accusation in Florrie’s. ‘You will be a fool if you leave here,’ she said at last. ‘I’ll give you six months before you return here or to another such institution.’

Florrie did not answer her. Much depended on whether or not Lady Rowntree would give her a position in her household. Mr Stoneham had promised to see what he could do to help her – but how much reliance could she place on a man she did not know? If she left here without a position secured she would have nothing to live on until she could find work. She’d been given a few small gifts of money by Lady Rowntree when she was particularly pleased with her work, but the money she earned was taken by Mistress Brent to pay her keep. Like the other inmates Florrie was entitled to a few pennies each week for her work, but she knew that she earned many guineas for the mistress of the workhouse by her exquisite needlework. Surely she could earn enough to keep herself? But she would need help to set up her own little establishment, unless Lady Rowntree would take her on, so it would take courage to actually leave here.

Florrie was thoughtful after her encounter with Mistress Brent. She had threatened her with exposure and it was not only the beatings she inflicted on children and vulnerable old people who had nowhere else to go that she could speak of – there was the mystery of the missing boy. Except that it was not a mystery to Florrie. She knew exactly what had happened to young Arthur Meaks and where he was – and she thought that if Mr Stoneham kept his word to her, she would tell him what she knew. Florrie had hoped he would return, though she knew where to go to find him; it was just whether or not she had the courage to leave the security of these walls that had been her home for so long.

The young woman paused as she entered the inn’s private parlour. Toby stood and inclined his head. Although not as tall as Arthur Stoneham, he was lean and strong-looking, his hair light, his eyes hazel green and his complexion clear. His smile was meant to put her at her ease.

‘I believe you are Mr Stoneham’s friend, sir?’ she said.

‘Toby Rattan,’ he said. ‘Arthur told me that your name is Meg?’

‘I do not truly know it is, sir – but the name seemed to mean something to me and I do not wish to be called by the name they gave me.’

Something in her eyes touched Toby’s heart. He was filled with a sudden fierce anger against the people who had hurt her, both those at the workhouse and the others who had brought her down. He was also aware of a desire to protect her. In that moment Toby knew that he would stay here and help Arthur sort out the nest of vipers at the workhouse, but also that he would help discover who had taken Meg’s child – and when he did, he would bring it back to her.

‘Meg is a pretty name and it suits you,’ Toby said. ‘Arthur is a good man – and between us we shall leave no stone unturned in seeking the child you bore.’

‘He saved my life and you are kind,’ Meg said and blushed because the way he smiled at her made her feel safe and warm. ‘I was lucky that Mr Stoneham found me.’

‘He has asked me to help him. We shall not allow this injustice to go unanswered, Meg. Believe me, if your babe lives then we shall find her.’

Meg nodded and gave him her hand. ‘I thank you, Mr Rattan, and I pray that God will help you in your search.’

Toby kissed her hand gently.

‘I am honoured to serve you,’ he said. ‘Arthur has gone to meet someone but he will be back shortly. I give you my word, both Arthur and I will make certain that in future you are protected and cared for.’

Her shy smile made Toby smile in response. She was lovely and, he believed, innocent of all guile. Her story must be a tragic one and he was determined to discover it.

‘It was very good of you to see me,’ Arthur said when he was shown into Lady Rowntree’s elegant parlour. Its shades of green, rose and cream had a faded, restful aura and suited the beautiful woman in her later years. ‘Forgive me for intruding this way but it is important.’