Sydney Walk February 27th 1853

I always knew I had a great capacity for maternal love and I will be eternally grateful to LB for allowing me to experience it – even if only for a short while. He is a delightful child and I will smother him with kisses until he has to leave us. I am quite amazed by his constant inquisitiveness. Whenever the maid or I have our backs turned he is inside a cupboard, under a bed or struggling to open a window – on a never ending quest for enlightenment, I suppose.

Sadly, Josiah has been unusually tested with his business deals at the moment and has not been able to spend much time at home with us. I hope we can have LB for a good while yet – although I know that means Boo would still be stricken in her pregnancy, poor goose – because I know Josiah will adore him in an instant. He was not happy when I announced LB’s arrival but he respects my wish to do Boo this service and I am sure that when he bounces the boy on his knee for the first time he will melt as quickly as I have done. This will perhaps serve better than the occasional picnic as a ruse to turn Josiah and I into proper parents….

Oh, the boy is wondrous! He reminds me so much of Josiah as he plays with wooden bricks and demands biscuits from anyone who passes. He has a quizzical look when thwarted which recalls Josiah exactly, and when he is happy he makes a little barking sound which is Josiah to the core. It is enough to make me wonder which is the right way round – do men become fully matured by the age of three, or do boy children grow taller but never any wiser? The two states are almost indistinguishable, whether three or thirty three. I may turn my hand to a scientific study of the development of our species, since I know of none in existence.

Sydney Walk
February 24th 1853

We have him! Little Bradstone is in the next room as I write, snoring and snuffling as if he’d lived here all his life! I am so excited I can hardly believe it.

I arrived in the carriage at Boo’s and ran up her steps with no thought of what I was about to say. When her girl opened the door I went straight in and made to go up to see Boo. I was a little overwrought, I must confess, and began calling for Boo the moment I set foot on her staircase. An enormous woman in a nurse’s uniform came sweeping onto the landing to shush me, but I was absolutely set on my plan.

“I am here to collect Little Bradstone and take care of him until his mother is well enough to resume her position,” I said, “And I will not hear of any other course of action!”

The nurse stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down at me. She was clearly doing her best to make a speedy assessment of my mental state and my maternal capabilities. Perhaps she was as concerned as I about Boo’s mother-in-law’s influence on the boy.

“I fear poor Mrs Pitt will be confined to her bed for some months to come. Pray tell me who you are and what exactly your intentions may be. She is not to be disturbed on any account but if I find that you may be able to help her by setting her mind to rest about the child, I shall go to speak with her. Well?”

I stood at the stairfoot and pronounced myself to be the best friend Boo had in the world. I said I was wealthy and loving enough to look after Boo’s son as if he were my own and that nothing would give me greater pleasure than to help Boo in her hour of need. I said I could not rest knowing that there was a little boy in want of a mother’s arms. I told her I had rooms until the Spring and a country house capable of housing forty such children, if they needed it.

“Stop!” she whispered, holding her large hand up to cover my face from her view. “What is your name, good lady?”

And that was all, in truth. She spent a moment or two in Boo’s room and then instructed the girl to go directly and bring LB back from his Grandmother’s house. I waited in Boo’s hallway, seeing no purpose in accompanying the girl. And we were snug here at Sydney Walk within the hour!

Josiah stayed out of sight when I brought LB in. Villiers gave a little scream, which I took to be one of welcome, and then he took the boy from me and carried him upstairs to my bedchamber, where I had instructed him to place a small bed next to ours. LB was laid into it and, after a brief bout of whimpering, which we dealt with by the application of warm milk, he fell soundly to sleep. I felt great pride in us all that we could do such a kindness for our friends.

I was so happy that I ignored the letter from meddling Mrs Cornbench. Silly, interfering old witch.

Lydiatt House

My Dear Mrs Hatherwick

I hope this letter finds you in good health and that your sojourn in London continues to keep you and Mr Hatherwick suitably entertained.

This is the briefest of notes to reassure you that all appears well at Blindingham. I say ‘appears’ since I have not in truth gained access to the Hall on either of my last two visits there. But I am sure that were there to be any cause for concern, your Mrs Everdown would have alerted us. I made sure when I last saw her, a good month ago now, that she knew how to reach us and that she was not to suffer a moment’s concern when Mr Cornbench and I are so close by and so willing to offer our support. I have heard of no such worries and have had no requests for help, so am happy to conclude that all is satisfactory.

What a capable woman she must be to look after the Hall as well your old nurse without needing a soul to share her days with. She can be forgiven for allowing the grounds to become a little unkempt while your gardener is away visiting relatives, which I presume is the reason for my not seeing him for a while. It is winter and, if a gardener can be spared at all, he is best released in February, I am sure.

Having dispensed my neighbourly duties, a task that I am more than happy to undertake, I shall leave you to enjoy your metropolitan distractions. Be reassured that I will call at Blindingham again soon and am confident I will find someone at home then.

Yours

Lorelei Cornbench

Sydney Walk
February 20th 1853

I told Josiah of my plan as soon as he had breakfasted and was settling down to his newspaper and his morning cup of heated water with lemon – he is allowed nothing stronger til his gout is fully dispersed. I was a little nervous of his reaction so just took a large breath and said outright that I was sending a carriage to bring Little Bradstone to Sydney Walk. He yelped a little then gave a short cough – a sign that his foot is still quite painful, I expect, or that the lemon had caught him unprepared. He looked at me exactly as if I had aimed a shotgun to him.

“Steady on, Eff,” he said, when he could speak, “When was this decided?”

“Yesterday afternoon, when I learned that the poor boy is in the clutches of Mrs Pitt, ” I answered. Josiah knows how evil she is and his expression deepened.

“What does Boo say? Does her husband agree? Where shall he sleep – have you thought about this at all, Eff?” Josiah spoke in a tight voice that made me sorry for the pain his gout must cause him, even though it is all his own doing, really.

“Boo will be happy for me to be the boy’s saviour, Bradstone will be powerless to argue in the face of such generosity on our part and the boy shall sleep in our room. I have thought about this as much as I need to.”

I think being Mrs Doughty’s friend has had a beneficial effect on me – I would brook no argument, not even from my own husband!

After that conversation, I instructed Villiers to arrange a carriage to take me first to Boo to tell her of my favour to her and then on to Mrs Pitt’s lair. As I left Sydney Walk, the maid was putting an iron over Josiah’s newspaper again – it had become quite crumpled during our exchange.

Sydney Walk
February 4th 1853

It seems Boo has known all along about Mrs Doughty’s domestic situation. What a dark horse she is! I would not have thought her capable of keeping such a secret from me and shall resolve to be more inquiring in future. Still, I am proud to be associated with such a selfless woman and I have much to learn from her, though I do not think I shall ever give up hope of having a baby of my own one day.

Boo is suffering for her love of motherhood, poor thing. She is confined to her bed and is as weak as a kitten. I called to see her but the maid was adamant that she could admit no-one, not even those in the closest circle. Apparently Boo’s doctor has said that she must have no excitement of any kind for fear that her heart will be put under too much strain. I asked who was looking after LB and discovered that he has been sent to stay with Bradstone’s Mama! I am Boo’s best friend in all the world and I know how much she dislikes her husband’s mother. She must be lying abed fretting that he will return with a head full of silly nonsense and cruel intentions. That woman could strip the trees of their bark with her vicious tongue – I well remember the afternoon when she told me that I had made a terrible mistake in taking Josiah for my husband. She called him a feckless wastrel and said that I was doomed to a life of loneliness and sorrow. Well, if that isn’t proof enough of her twisted grip on reality I do not know what would be. She is quite unsuited to the job of raising a child with sensibilities as fragile as LB’s. My blood is rising even as I write!

I shall speak to Josiah in the morning – when his gout has yet to take hold for the day – and tell him we must go to fetch LB and bring him here. What sort of friend would I be if I could not look after a little boy who is missing his mama? I shall set aside one of the upstairs rooms for him and he and I shall play with Dauncey all day long and take trips to the park for fresh air. That is decided then – I shall write to Boo imediately and tell her that we will save her boy from Mrs Pitt’s malicious clutches. I am quite excited at the thought that Josiah and I will have a little person to care for – Josiah will be as keen as I am, I know it!

Sydney Walk
January 15th 1853

Boo!

I understand that you are not well enough to have visitors at the moment. Indeed I should hate to bring the dangers of the outdoors to your bedside at such a time. But I simply cannot contain myself any longer and decided that the contents of this letter would not be so shocking if delivered in writing, not in person. Please make sure that you are sitting down for the rest of this letter, if you are not already, and promise me you will not alarm Little Bradstone by crying out in amazement when you hear my news.

Boo – Mrs Doughty is not, nor has she ever been, married!

What do you make of that?

I had tea with her yesterday afternoon and after a long discussion about how I might fill your shoes at the Press while you are otherwise occupied, I asked her outright. Emboldened by the situation, I enquired about the whereabouts of Mr Doughty. I said I had always wondered where she kept him and thought he must be a remarkable man to allow her such freedom and power in the London business world. This is what she said,

“My dear, any man would need to be truly remarkable to call himself my husband. I have never met one worthy of the title and am not likely to. I use the title of a married woman to deter any approach of a romantic nature from the male of our species.”

I was so shocked a little bit of cake fell from my mouth.

“But then do you live alone, Mrs Doughty? You seem too full of life not to share it with a husband. I know I could not endure these long days in London without knowing I had Mr Hatherwick to talk to at night.”

” Effie,” she said to me “The prospect of having to explain myself to Mr Hatherwick every night is too awful to contemplate.” Before more cake could spill onto my skirts, she added “Oh, I do not mean your husband above all others, my dear. Please do not think that. I simply cannot regard any man highly enough to confide my hopes and dreams in him. Now, I must take my leave of you. I have a meeting of the London hospital board to attend.”

As she stood up to go, I ventured another question,

“Mrs Doughty, you have so much generosity in your soul. Have you never thought of children?”

She turned back to face me and stifled a little twitch of her mouth, I am sure.

“When I think of children, Effie, they are never my own. I have never imagined myself giving birth to or suckling an infant conceived from the sort of liaison necessary to produce one.”

When she saw my still open mouth she softened slightly and said, “I am the sort of woman who is able help many people with my work. That is enough maternity for me, more than enough. I shall no doubt be seeing you again soon at the Press, but for now, farewell.” Then she swept out!

Did you know this before, Boo? Why did you not say, if you did? If you were as unaware as I, then I hope I have not caused you undue shock. But goodness me, what a revelation! Mrs Doughty has turned her back on marriage and motherhood all so she can help others in greater need. She is truly deserving of a sainthood, nothing less.

Do write back with yr thoughts, Boo. We are in the presence of greatness!

Yrs

Effx

Sydney Walk January 5th 1853

It is bread poultice time again in the Hatherwick household. I am growing weary of Josiah’s ‘Winter affliction’. He speaks of it in terms which he hopes will make the listener think the gout has been visited upon him, and is not the inevitable consequence of his seasonal excess. I should be pleased that he enjoyed such a convivial time with Papa, I suppose. He does love Papa and there are many wives who could not say the same about their husbands, so I shall content myself with that and pay no heed to his waspishness when the pain shoots through him. Bless him.

I told him of Boo’s expected arrival and fancied I saw a cloud pass across his face. I recall that he was less than pleased for her when LB was imminent and he was similarly distant on hearing this news – I do believe he feels my emptiness and wishes me not to be saddened by Boo’s burgeoning family when all I have is him. He is remarkably perceptive, my husband, and his reserve can only be borne of concern for my wishes in that direction. That, or the poultice had stiffened and reminded him of his own discomfort.

I have decided to send word to Mrs Doughty and ask her to meet me to discuss our plans for Boo’s confinement. As I think of it, I should love to know more about her own domestic affairs. Perhaps a slice or two of cake will loosen her tongue enough for me to ask whether she has anyone to massage her ankles in the Winter.

Sydney Walk
January 3rd 1853

Boo is with child again! She sent me the briefest of notes explaining why she had seen so little of me lately. It seems she has been taken quite ill with this child and has been in fear of losing it before its time. Poor, silly thing , she was scared to tell me until the baby was properly established in case I was upset for her. I think she means that I would be upset for myself – I who am in want of such happy news – and she is right, in part. Of course I do not begrudge her a brother or sister for LB. I would not be able to call myself a friend if I did. But I should so love to hold my own child and push it round the park and bathe its knees and sing to it.

Boo asked me to tell Josiah that, God willing, the child will be born in the Spring. Quite why he should care about that I am not sure, but she was anxious for him to know. Perhaps she wishes to prepare him for my wanting to stay in London after we were due to return to Blindingham. I shall be required to do more work for the Press during Boo’s confinement. She is a clever old thing, really. When Josiah knows that she will be at her bed, he will not insist that I go home.

Oh, I wish I had Boo’s cunning – I envy her that, as well as her nursery.

Sydney Walk
December 20th 1852

This Winter is proving to be much duller than last. I have hardly seen any of my friends and there have been almost no parties, at least not that I have been made aware of. I told Josiah that it must be because we are in rooms people do not wish to visit, but that made him a little cross so I changed the subject. I know he tried his hardest when he comes up to town to choose where we stay for the season, so he must have felt that in speaking ill of his choice I was also speaking ill of him. What a booby I am to have complained so when I am in truth a very lucky woman.

So, I have decided to do away with any hope of hosting a party here and I shall instead make our own family Christmas as cosy as it can be. For dinner this year there will be me, Josiah and poor Papa, who is still a little vague after the assault he suffered in this neighbourhood. He has accepted my invitation to stay for a day or so, but has insisted that he be accompanied from his front door to ours, and back again when he leaves. I said Villiers would be only too pleased to escort him, but he has made his own arrangements it seems. It is as well that he has, for I have resolved to give Villiers some time off to thank him for his solicitous service of late. He, too, has been more solitary than he would like and I think it my duty as a caring employer to allow him his head whilst in London.

Josiah softened somewhat when I apologised for my ingratitude and was almost excited by the prospect of a long evening over brandy and cigars with Papa. He has a proposition to put to him, I am sure of it. I shall keep out of such discussions, since I know Papa is not impressed by Josiah’s business ventures. If only I could tell them both that I, little Effie, am the most successful business brain in the family!

I shall ask the cook to prepare some special treats for Dauncey to eat and have found a delightful neck collar for him to wear. I cannot wait to see his little face when I present it to him. Which puts me in mind of the gift I must find for Josiah – I am quite worn out with trying to find something to please him. He is not a man who likes frippery or adornment – except upon his fortunate wife, of course – and he already has a perfectly adequate watch. I am not inspired to think of anything else!

Sydney Walk
December 19th 1852

Today, I received an early seasonal gift from Dauncey! He raced into my dressing room as if his whole life depended on reaching me as soon as possible. It really is a most heartening habit of his to make me feel so important and I only wish Josiah might greet me with the same urgency some days. Dauncey made a triumphant little mewing sound and hurled a mouse at my feet. Had I not been able to see at once that it was dead, I should have screamed like Villiers when he assists Josiah at the Hunt. But the blood, tiny entrails and lack of a complete head reassured me that it was not about to run up my skirts at any time. Dauncey sat back, clearly awaiting my thanks and praise.

I remembered looking forward to the sugar mice Mama always brought me when she came back from being away. She was a society lady who was often invited to country house weekends and was a popular face at many a ball. She would show me how much she had missed me whilst on her travels by placing a tiny pink mouse in my hand and kissing me daintily on my head. Oh, those mice were so sweet! How much they spoke of Mama’s love for me! And now Dauncey was offering me the same token of esteem. I laughed at him and begged his forgiveness for not eating the mouse immediately tail first, as I used to do to amuse Mama.