Chapter 5. Fourpennies
Peter Saunders was tired and fed up. He hadn't wanted to go to the soiree at the
Bentons place on the outskirts of Yaxford but had been obligated to do so. He'd
suspected they wanted to matchmaker him with their daughter Yvette and he had
been right. He had found the girl pretty but devoid of any talent. She wore an
expensive and revealing gown that was set off by a false smile. The Bentons
wanted him for his money and were prepared to use their daughter wiles to get
it. Peter saw through the plan and did nothing to encourage Yvette. He was
forced to dance with her and make conversation but it was a stilted one sided
affair. Yvette could chatter for hours on the local gossip he had no interest in
while she had no love for natural history which was his prime hobby.
Around midnight he decided to leave. It was a ten mile drive back to
Fourpennies. Yvette tried to get him to stay, even hinting he could share her
bed and when that didn't work suggested he take her with him. This angered
Peter. "Miss Yvette," he said rather loudly so all could hear, "If you are
offering your body to me, let me tell you that I do not pay above the best
London prostitute rate of ten guineas a night. If you accept that then come with
me and I will see you are returned here in the morning. If not, then I bid you
goodnight." Yvette blushed with embarrassment and fled from the room.
Peter checked the fastenings on his horse and trap and started off. The weather
had turned foul. Heavy rain sheeted down on the brisk breeze. He pulled his cape
tightly around his shoulders and carefully made his way along the unmade road to
his home. The dim lights of the carriage were insufficient to see very well but
the horse sensed it way. Two miles from Yaxford he saw the lights of Rosebury
Hall and almost stopped to see if he could dry out before continuing his journey
but remembered part of the gossip from Yvette on how things had changed since
the death of Lord Robert.
Had it not been for the jolting of the wheels on the uneven road, Peter might
have fallen asleep and allowed the horse to make its way home without much
guidance but being wet and cold and on a rough road kept him awake. The rain had
stopped and the moon appeared briefly as a cloud passed out of it light.
Suddenly a couple of miles on from the main gate to the Hall a white apparition
caught a shaft of moonlight ahead of him. Although not particularly susceptible
to ghost stories, the sight nevertheless jerked him fully alert. The figure
turned slightly, stumbled and appeared to disappear. His horse had seen it too
as she hesitated and was reluctant to go forward. Peter jumped down and walked
alongside her. Peter found the mud and blood splattered body of a near naked
woman lying on the ground. "My God, what happened to you? Who are you?" His
questions were answered only by low moans from the girl.
Gently he picked her up, laid her on the floor of the trap and covered her with
his cloak. There was little room but by placing his feet over the top of her he
managed. Urging the horse on he tried to get to his home in the fastest possible
time. The girl was alive he could tell by the moans that came from her lips but
otherwise she was not aware of anything happening around her. This was just as
well as the jolting would have only caused her considerably more pain. Her brain
functions had shut down.
At Fourpennies Peter knew the groom would have waited up for him. He appeared
immediately he heard the noise from the gravel on the driveway. "Wake the rest
of the staff and get them here straightaway," Peter shouted at the man. Sensing
something unusual was to occur the groom hurried into the house and soon after
lights began to appear in windows and staff in their night-dresses came to the
door. Carrying Ruth into the house he ordered two maids to prepare the guest
room and two others to fill a bath in there. In the light they could see the
girl was in a bad way. The blood and mud had dried on her body into a congealed
sludge. They looked in horror on the whip marks, the blood and particularly the
two livid weals that gave her face a grotesque appearance.
All the staff rallied to help. Sleep was forgotten as they carefully laid the
girl on the kitchen table and began to wash her with warm water. She was very
cold but occasionally her eyes flickered open as she felt the warm water on her
body. By the time she was reasonably clean the bath upstairs was ready and
Jessie, the large framed jovial kitchen girl, picked her up and easily carried
her to the guest room. Carefully they lowered Ruth into the warm water. Her body
was beginning to come round and she could feel their hands. Although they were
gentle, even these touches caused her further pain. They girls chattered amongst
themselves and tried to find out who she was but Ruth was incapable of speech.
Limited movement had returned to her arms but her legs would not support her
weight.
Peter watched and directed operations. Rachael the cook produced a herbal
ointment which she swore would ease the pain and help the wounds to heal. Ruth
barely knew what was happening but for the first time for a month she found
herself in a soft feather bed. She drifted in and out of consciousness and each
time she awoke she found one of the maids or Peter by her bedside. It was past
noon but the curtains were still drawn and the room in semi-darkness when Ruth
became more fully awake and tried to move. The effort shot spears of fire
throughout her body and brought forth a scream from her lips. The maid at her
side tried to quell her with soothing words but Ruth could not reply. Even
trying to indicate she wanted a drink caused pain although by now she knew she
was amongst kindly people. They fed her a nutritious broth, bathed her and
applied ointments but still her body was almost one large bruise. They could see
too, that the whipping she'd had wasn't the first as some of the bruises were
old.
After two days a fever and delirium beset her. The staff fought to keep her
temperature down with cold compresses but couldn't make any sense out of her
wild ramblings. Eventually the fever broke and she slowly began to recover. She
tried speaking but the swelling from the facial lashing, made it very difficult
and words came out slowly and not at all the way she would have sounded
normally. Peter visited her several times a day and after she began to talk,
asked her name and questioned her on how she came to be on the lane at that time
of night. Ruth had by then decided to keep her identity secret in case it should
get back to Edward. "I'm Martha Jones, and I was travelling to Bristol to find
work when the farmer's cart I had a ride in was attacked and robbed and because
I only had the clothes on my back I was beaten and dumped somewhere. I don't
know where."
Peter didn't believe the story. For a start it was obvious there was more than
one beating but perhaps that was why she was running away in the first place.
And why was she so far off the Bristol road? He decided to accept the story for
the moment.
It was two weeks before Ruth could move from her bed with any degree of
normality. She still walked with the shuffling steps of an old woman but much of
the swelling had gone down and some of the weals were fading. Some though,
including the ones on her face were still purple and very painful.
At breakfast one morning at the end of her second week, Peter came to her,
"Martha, in a week or so you should be fit enough to travel on if you so wish or
you can stay here but if you do so you must be prepared to work with the other
maids or on the land. You may have also have heard from the other girls that at
times they are expected to share my bed. I will expect that of you too."
"Sir," Ruth replied, "I would welcome the opportunity to work for you and would
like to start today if I can although I could not do anything heavy. However, I
don't know if I could do what you expect in bed. I never have......"
"Look, Martha, you will never be forced to but I will be disappointed in you if
you don't. It's Wednesday today, I will give you until Sunday week to make up
your mind whether to continue to Bristol or to stay here and come to my bed.
Meantime I am sure that Rachael can find you something light to do. Plenty of
dusting to do around here all the time."
Rachael did indeed find plenty of dusting and light housework for her to do and
for her part Ruth found the work enjoyable and the staff were always kind and
helpful. They were given a little time off each day and allowed to wander in the
grounds. To Ruth this was a delight. She was able to renew her love of wild
flowers and often picked one or two. One she didn't recognise so she took it to
the library when no one was around and picked out a book to help her. She was so
engrossed she didn't hear the master enter. She hastily closed the book,
apologised and pretended to carry on dusting. Peter was puzzled. Maybe she was
only looking at the pictures or was she actually reading the text?
Two days later he asked her to dust and tidy his study. He left a newspaper on
the top of his desk and left the room. Quietly he returned to find Ruth standing
and reading it. "What do you think of Ralph Brakenbury's chances in the
election, Martha?" he asked.
"Quite good but he will have strong opposition from......" Ruth stopped. She
knew he had tricked her into revealing she could read.
"Martha, I think you owe it to me to tell the truth. You are not Martha Jones
are you?" Ruth shook her head. "Your name is Ruth Lavenby." Ruth nodded. "I
thought I recognised you although I only saw you once just before your father
died and your face was unmarked then. Tell me the truth now. How you came to be
on the road that night. It was Edward wasn't it?" Again Ruth nodded and then
burst into floods of tears. "It's alright Ruth, you don't really need to tell
me. Yesterday I went to Yaxford and sort out Richards. He was pleased to hear
you were recovering and he told me much of the story. He also told me the tale
of your brush with the Cary brothers and how you largely ran the finances of the
estate."
"Richards also left many unanswered questions in my mind. You must remember I am
a newcomer here and don't know the history behind this but I would appreciate it
if you could start at the beginning because Richards only gave me vignettes and
it isn't always easy to put them in the whole picture. Perhaps before you start
you should go to Rachael and ask her to make a pot of tea and bring it here with
two cups and we can have a long chat.
The chat was indeed long and lasted until they were called to dinner. By then
Ruth had bared her soul to him. She told of her life with Lord Robert, how she
dealt with his affairs, how she dabbled in the stock market, and had her own
bank account with enough money to keep her for a number of years. Questioned
about the wild flower book she let Peter know of her interest in botany and he
related his interest in wild life and birds in particular. She asked if he knew
what was happening at Rosebury Hall now.
"All I can tell you is what Richards told me and he got it from one of the
gardeners."
"After you were taken and thrown out the remaining staff had a meeting and all
decided to leave. They wouldn't be subjected to any more beatings even if they
were poor. They left Mrs. Symonds tied naked to the birching horse in the same
room and Edward and his cohorts. They awoke in the morning with sore heads and
saw her there. Their cries to the staff went unanswered so they showed their
displeasure by thrashing and raping Mrs. Symonds. Not as severely as they had
thrashed you. They only freed her so she could get them breakfast and then
fastened her and raped her again. Next day they decided to move back to London,
shut the place up and only keep on a token force of groundsmen."
"What happened to Mrs. Symonds?" enquired Ruth.
"She went back to Bristol to find a job there."
After dinner Peter called the staff together and told them Martha was in reality
Ruth Lavenby and gave them an outline her life. Several already knew of her and
the story of her fight with the Cary brothers had reached them. Peter went on,
"If she decides to stay her position here will be somewhere between mistress of
the house and housemaid. A role that is going to be difficult to define in
words. She will help me with the running of the estate but when she is not doing
that she will help elsewhere as needed. She will keep the room she is in now at
least for the time being or until a guest requires it." There were murmurs
amongst the staff but Ruth couldn't make out whether it was approval or
disapproval. Mostly they were taken by surprise by the announcement.
Ruth stood up. "Look, you have all been very kind to me here. You took me in as
a stranger and cared for me. You have all become friends and I will do nothing
to alter that friendship. The only thing that has changed for you is I am now to
be called Ruth. I'm not Mistress Ruth or Miss Ruth, just plain Ruth. I shall
still use your first names too. My duties with Master Peter have not yet been
defined but I am sure they will over the next few days or weeks. None should
affect the way you do your work. I am really just so grateful that you have
restored me to almost full health although it may be a while before I can show
my face at a debutante's ball. Please I thank you all for everything you have
done for me." Tears welled to the surface and flowed down her cheeks. One member
of staff gave her a clap and soon the rest had joined in. They congratulated her
and wished her well.
When they were alone together again, Ruth asked Peter if she could share his bed
so that she could stay. Peter hugged her and said, "Of course, but only if
you're ready."
"I think I am," Ruth replied, "It has got to be better than being with Edward."
Finis
