well... I’ll do it for the mistress. I’ll stay until she’s back up on her feet and the new babe in the nursery. She’s been good to me, has Mrs Mansfield,’ Enid Grove said. ‘God bless her.’
* * *
‘You must tell your stepmama that you are simply feeling tired, my dear, and do not need the doctor to come. Mrs Fenton is fretting about your health.’ The vicar gave his wife a smile. ‘Now that you have rested in bed all afternoon you feel much better, don’t you?’
‘I do. My headache has gone,’ Eleanor said and rearranged the cutlery in front of her.
‘But, you don’t look better...’ Dawn fell silent, having noticed her stepdaughter’s startled look. Eleanor didn’t want her husband to be gainsaid.
‘I am quite well, I assure you.’ Eleanor picked up her soup spoon.
‘We will say grace,’ her husband reminded her before making a steeple of his fingers and closing his eyes. His wife rested her spoon on the bowl and copied him. Dawn simply bowed her head, glaring at pea soup.
Eleanor was still flushed and unsteady on her feet, needing to be escorted to the table by her husband. Earlier Dawn had gone to her stepdaughter’s room despite Peter’s veiled demand that she stay away. She had tried the door, but it had been locked and when she’d softly called through the panels Lily had whimpered to be allowed to see her grandma. Eleanor had then admitted she didn’t have a key to open it up.
The knowledge that Peter had locked his wife in her room increased Dawn’s feeling that something sinister was going on. But she wasn’t frightened, as Mrs Grove appeared to be. She was angry and determined to protect Eleanor and Lily. She wasn’t afraid of what was ‘out there’ as the cook termed it. But she knew there was a real danger from men who believed they knew what was best for their womenfolk when clearly they didn’t.
The prayer at an end the vicar poured them all a glass of ruby wine as though he were the most solicitous and amiable of fellows.
Dawn noticed that Eleanor glanced her way several times with a look that seemed to silently beg her not to again raise the subject of her health. So Dawn decided she would not. She’d deal with the matter herself, with or without his assistance.
The moment the meal was over Peter excused himself saying he had to go back to the church for a meeting with the verger.
‘Do you feel well enough to come into Wivenhoe with me tomorrow, Eleanor?’ If the doctor could not be brought here, then Dawn would take her stepdaughter to his house.
‘I can’t face travelling. And Lily can be quite mischievous.’
‘I expect she is bored being cooped up. She went to bed quite early.’
‘Peter likes her to be kept to a routine. Mrs Grove settles her while we dine.’
About to tell her stepdaughter that the cook was on the point of quitting, Dawn thought better of it. She imagined Mrs Grove had already told her mistress she was unhappy...and so was Eleanor unhappy. Dawn sensed Eleanor would never admit to it, though. Peter Mansfield had warned his wife not to mention whatever secrets they had. Eleanor should be anticipating the arrival of her second child with joyousness as Dawn’s friend Emma was. But there was no joy in this house.
‘Shall we play cards?’ Dawn suggested brightly.
Eleanor shook her head. ‘I’m sorry to be such poor company, but I think I shall go and say goodnight to my daughter, then return to my room.’
‘You’re not poor company. Just being with you and Lily is a delight for me.’ Dawn wished there was more truth in that statement. She had come to Essex in high spirits, but now felt utterly deflated. But she must stay cheery for Eleanor’s sake. ‘I’d like to say goodnight to Lily, if I may.’
‘Of course... I’ll call Mrs Grove in to clear things away.’ Carefully Eleanor rose from the table, but before she reached the sideboard to ring the bell she tottered. Quickly she recovered her balance and clattered the brass implement.
‘You’re still feeling giddy?’ Dawn had risen immediately and gone to her aid.
‘I’ll be fine by morning.’
‘I very much hope you will. Your dress is very stylish,’ Dawn said, wanting to boost her stepdaughter in some way. She fondled a blue-dimity sleeve. And your hair looks very pretty. She was encouraged to think that as Eleanor had presented herself looking neat at dinner, she was feeling better. She had declined Dawn’s offer to lend a hand with buttons and curling tongs.
‘I’ll be off home when I’m done here, m’m.’ Mrs Grove had come into the room to start collecting the used crockery.
Dawn gave the woman a questioning glance.
‘I’ll see you in the morning, usual time, Mrs Mansfield,’ the cook added before departing with a loaded tray.
‘Will you retire early, Mama, or stay up after saying goodnight to Lily?’
‘I think I’ll play solitaire in the sitting room, just for a little while.’ Dawn had found the cards in a bureau drawer in that room earlier and had whiled away an hour while waiting for dinner to be served. She glanced at the window. ‘The sun has made an appearance at last.’ She smiled wryly. ‘Just before it is due to set.’ Heavy cloud had covered the heavens for most of the day, but had parted to allow a narrow strip of blue to be visible. But still it was bitterly cold. ‘Perhaps tomorrow, if it is fine, we could walk in the garden. Once I’ve unpacked my things I can give Lily her presents.’
‘She’ll like that. You are good to her and to me, Mama.’
They had been slowly walking the corridor towards the stairs, but Dawn suddenly halted and put an arm around her swaying stepdaughter. ‘Hold on to me!’
Eleanor was no lightweight now she was big with child, but Dawn managed to guide her to a chair in the sitting room. She would have preferred to get her to her bedchamber, but knew she would struggle to support her up the stairs. ‘I’ll fetch Peter,’ Dawn said determinedly. ‘Enough is enough. You are sick, my dear, and urgently need a doctor’s care. If he still refuses, I will fetch the fellow myself!’
Eleanor put out a feeble hand as though to detain her, but Dawn ignored her, dashing out into the corridor and then out of the house.
Picking up her skirts, she flew along the cinder path towards the church. It was about a quarter of a mile distant and she arrived breathless, but burst in through the heavy oaken doors, calling her stepson-in-law’s name. The place seemed deserted. Nothing stirred in the cold, eerie space and the only sound was her voice echoing back at her.
Dawn’s heart was in her mouth as she hurried outside. Usually she would be happy to avoid the dratted man; now when she needed him, he’d disappeared. She had a feeling of dread rolling in her stomach. Intuitively she knew that Eleanor was in immediate need of a doctor’s care.
‘Mrs Fenton?’
Dawn whipped around at the sound of that familiar baritone...a voice she had heard recently after a long, long silence from him. She stared almost without breathing as a tall male figure approached along the path. The pale sun behind his head was burnishing his fair hair with a silvery halo, making it impossible for her to read his expression. But she imagined her shock at seeing him was plain on her face.
‘Mr Valance?’ Dawn uttered in astonishment.
‘I thought it was you, Mrs Fenton. I was just about to ride off.’ He gestured to a horse tethered close to the lychgate.
‘What on earth are you doing here?’ Dawn blurted out the first thing that came into her head and in her agitated state it sounded rather rude.
‘I