It was the most nerve-racking thing she’d ever done, taking a sickly infant home to nurse. Having cleaned the room from top to bottom and cleared the washstand so there was room to change her, she collected Mercy from the hospital, carrying her in her arms and wrapped in a shawl to protect her from the April showers. It was Alice’s day off and she helped by carrying the small bag of clothes, donations to the infirmary that were too small to fit the other patients. Mrs Wells brought round a pale lemon-yellow sheet and blanket she’d been given by one of her neighbours, saying they were too good for rags, and then when Hannah tried to pay her rent, she said that it had already been paid.
‘By whom?’ Hannah asked.
‘A person who wished to remain anonymous,’ was all Mrs Wells would say.
If she’d known, Hannah felt sure she would have been able to winkle a name out of her.
That evening, after the wet nurse had gone, Hannah stood alone in her room, rocking Mercy back and forth, trying to get her to sleep, but she wouldn’t settle. She checked her nappy – it was dry. Was she drinking enough? She gave her a little water that she’d boiled in a pot over the fire and left to cool, and after a while, Mercy fell asleep.
She tiptoed across to the middle drawer of the chest that she was using as a makeshift cot and lowered the sleeping baby on to the sheet, at which Mercy’s eyes opened, her face crumpled, and she started to cry again. It was the longest night of Hannah’s life. By the morning, when Mercy finally dropped off, she could hardly think straight.
Within two days, she found that she was beginning to manage looking after a baby. Mercy was asleep in the drawer, snug and warm under a blanket. Every so often, she would wrinkle her nose and twitch, then smile as though she was dreaming.
‘Ah,’ Hannah sighed as she forgave her for the sleepless nights and the smell of dirty nappies which she soaked in a bucket of carbolic before washing them. ‘What am I going to do with you? I promised your ma that I’d do what’s best for you …’ The problem was that she was growing mighty fond of her. How could she possibly give her up? It would break her heart.
Glancing through the window, she noticed a carriage draw up and drop off a gentleman in a grey coat, top hat and leather bag. What was James doing here? Why had he not warned her of his visit, so that she had time to clear up the dirty dishes and sweep the floor? Thinking to intercept him, she went out on to the landing, running her fingers through her hair which she’d left down, having washed it that morning.
‘Good day, Mrs …?’ she heard him say as she leaned across the banister.
‘Mrs Wells,’ her landlady said, aquiver with curiosity.
‘Thank you,’ Hannah interrupted. ‘Doctor, I wasn’t expecting you …’
He was frowning as she walked halfway down the stairs.
‘You asked me to make a house call this afternoon at two.’ He looked at his pocket watch. ‘It’s two o’clock precisely.’
‘Oh yes. Of course. Silly me. I forgot, which is one of the reasons I wished to see you.’
‘I’m glad you invited me to give my opinion on your health.’
‘Mr Anthony at the infirmary recommended you as being a physician with a special interest in memory lapses.’ Despite everything, she suppressed a giggle at the sight of her landlady’s expression. James coughed as though disguising a chuckle.
‘May I?’ he said, regaining his composure.
‘Come this way.’
‘You can leave the door open, Miss Bentley,’ Mrs Wells said.
‘Please, don’t worry about me,’ Hannah said, as James followed her upstairs. ‘I trust Doctor Clifton implicitly.’ She closed the door firmly but quietly behind them.
‘How’s Mercy? Where is she?’ he said, glancing around the room.
‘She’s over there.’ Hannah nodded towards the chest of drawers.
‘You haven’t got a cot for her?’
‘Not yet.’ It was a matter of pride to pretend that all was well, but it was obvious that she was suffering from impecunious circumstances. ‘I’m sorry about—’
‘No need to apologise. You have a lovely room – you’ve made it feel very homely,’ he interrupted, moving across to the window. ‘And it has a sea view.’
Hannah smiled ruefully. ‘Just as Ruby wanted.’ She had cleaned it thoroughly before moving Mercy in, and added some extra touches: a spray of dried lavender in a pot and a shell Ruby had found on the beach placed on the mantelpiece. There was a wooden rattle that Nurse May had given her for Mercy, as well as a cushion that one of the kitchen maids had made for the chair.
‘Will you permit me to stay awhile or are you in a rush to get rid of me?’
‘I’m sorry for being remiss. Let me take your coat.’
‘I’ll need some assistance,’ he frowned. ‘Henry had to help me put it on.’
‘How is your arm? Is it still as painful?’ she said as she took hold of the lapel of his coat and lifted it gently off his shoulder, then tugged the other sleeve down his arm.
‘It’s getting better. Another three or four weeks and I can have this dratted plaster taken off. I miss bathing in the sea – one can’t let it get wet.’
‘Do you bathe at this time of year?’ She laid his coat across the bed. ‘The sea is freezing.’
‘I swim all year round. It’s chilly, I grant you that, but it’s most invigorating and excellent for the constitution.’
‘You can’t be of sound mind,’ she smiled, then fell serious. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. It reminds me of Ruby …’
‘She would want you to be happy,’ he said.
‘I know. Take a seat.’ She gestured to the rickety wooden chair. ‘Can I make you some tea? Or would you prefer ale?’
‘Neither, thank you. You must have the chair. I’ll stand.’
‘No, it’s all right. I’ll perch here.’ Before he could argue, she sat down on the edge of the mattress.
She watched him pace back and forth in front of the fireplace before stopping and clearing his throat. ‘I’ve come to you today with a proposition,’ he said.
‘Oh? What is it?’
‘I’ve always wanted children. Suzanna and I used to laugh and say we wanted ten, but having seen the Allspices, I’m all for having one or two. I’ve grown attached to little Mercy since she’s been at the infirmary and I’m keen to provide her with a home and all the advantages I can offer: a nanny, medical treatment, education … the love and guidance that a father figure can bestow.’
Hannah opened her mouth to speak, but he gave her a stern stare.
‘Let me finish. I need to explain the two options I can offer in full. If I adopt Mercy as my ward, you’ll be free to progress in your profession as a nurse.’
‘You wouldn’t have her put away in a home, if she does turn out to be backward or odd in any way?’ Hannah didn’t think he would, but she had to ask.
‘You know me better than that,’ he said.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s all right. Ruby wouldn’t have wanted that for her, and neither do I. Mercy would stay at my house with all the help that she needed. You would, of course, be welcome to visit her and take her out whenever you wanted to.
‘The alternative is that you accept my hand in marriage and we adopt Mercy as our own,’ he went on. ‘Your kindness, my seaside angel, has healed my wounds – your refusal would undoubtedly inflict them afresh, but I would understand. I am a man. I have ambition and society allows me to do as I please. It is different for women. I wouldn’t judge you for putting your profession before wedlock.’
‘Oh, James.’ He had put her into a predicament.
‘When I say that I offer marriage, I do it out of love, not convenience – not for Mercy and your sister’s memory, but for you, because you mean everything to me. I would do anything for you – give you up, if I had to. This is your decision.’
Hannah thought of the wards and how the Lettsom didn’t feel like hers any more. She thought of the giant behemoth of the infirmary, the challenge and satisfaction of keeping it running smoothly, the conflicts with the doctors and the governors, the minutiae of keeping the bathing attendants happy, and the patients adequately fed. She recalled Matron once talking of how she had missed out on marriage.
James’s love was selfless, thoughtful … he’d said he loved her. And if she was honest with herself, she loved him too, deeply. Their affection for each other had been tested, and not found wanting.
‘I realise that it’s a lot to think about,’ he said eventually. ‘You can have as much time as you need.’
‘I have some questions,’ she said.
‘Ask me anything you like.’
‘I have a reputation, thanks to what’s happened. You will lose patients.’
‘That is up to them. I will always have enough work – it’s the nature of the job. I know I’ve talked of this before, but I have no doubt that Suzanna would give her blessing to my marrying again. She wouldn’t have wanted me to grow old alone … and childless.’ His voice was taut with suspense. ‘Neither of us will forget those we’ve loved and lost, but we must move on, honouring their memory and the parts they played in shaping us. Hannah, does this mean that you’re reconsidering my offer?’
‘I have one more question, an obstacle which is harder to overcome than anything else we’ve encountered,’ she said. ‘What if I should turn out to be like my mother?’
He smiled. ‘Don’t all daughters turn out like their mothers?’
‘I mean, what if I develop the same tendencies as her, the melancholia and insanity, like Ruby?’
A brief frown crossed his eyes.
‘We would cross that bridge if we came to it. When you marry, it’s for better, for worse, in sickness and in health. There’s no suggestion in your attitude or character that you would exhibit these signs. Is that all?’
‘Not quite. Are you sure you’re willing to take on an infant who was born out of wedlock?’
‘To be honest, I adore her already. Who could fail to love an innocent child like little Mercy? But these are all side issues.’
Hannah’s heart beat faster. She didn’t care any more. She could hear Alice saying, I told you so, and Charlotte’s expressions of disbelief, that she would give up her vocation for love.
‘What do you say?’ he said. ‘You’ve gone remarkably quiet.’
‘In this situation, I believe it’s the custom for the gentleman to go down on one knee.’
‘You mean?’ A flicker of a smile crossed his face.
‘Ask me,’ she said softly, and he raised himself from the chair – awkwardly with his arm still encased in plaster – and knelt in front of her. ‘You might have to help me up afterwards,’ he chuckled. ‘Take my hand. I’m sorry I can’t give you both.’
Smiling, she reached out and caught his fingers in hers.
‘You’re trembling,’ she whispered.
‘So are you …’ He gazed up at her. ‘My dear Hannah, I’ve loved you since I first set eyes on you. You took my breath away and stole my heart when you turned up at the house that day with the boys from St Pancras. You’ve impressed me with your courage in speaking out when you see something is wrong, and the way you care for our patients as if they were part of your family. You have also infuriated me at times with your stubborn refusal to acknowledge our feelings for each other, but I admire your determination and grit in going forward with your ambitions, staying true to yourself. You are the most caring person I’ve ever met, selfless, compassionate and kind.
‘When I met you, I was a deeply dejected man – grieving for my wife, stuck, in a way, but your friendship has healed my broken heart.’
‘Oh, James …’
‘Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’
A tear rolled down her cheek. He released her hand and reached up to wipe it away, his touch like fire against her skin.
‘I was hoping to make you happy,’ he said, half smiling.
‘I am happy,’ she exclaimed. ‘Oh, let me help you up. The answer’s yes, my love, my dearest man.’ Her eyes stung and her heart ached with a joy she had never experienced before.
‘I thought you would turn me down,’ he said as she helped him to his feet. ‘May I kiss you?’
Boldly, she put her arms around his neck, inclining her face towards his. He bowed his head and pressed his lips to hers, the contact making her giddy with delight and desire.
Eventually, she tore herself away. ‘When will we be married?’
He smiled again, as though reading her mind.
‘As soon as possible, if you’re happy with that.’
‘I’ll write my letter of resignation to Matron.’
‘I realise how much I’m asking of you, but I’ve wished for a long time to have you at my side—’ There was a cry from the chest and he frowned. ‘I’d almost forgotten … Go on. She’s calling for her aunt.’
‘She’s quite demanding, much like her mother,’ Hannah smiled.
‘Is she hungry or thirsty?’ he asked as he accompanied her to the makeshift crib. ‘Does the wet nurse still attend to her as arranged?’
‘Dear Effie comes three times a day, but that isn’t enough for a hungry infant, so I supplement her diet with pap and goat’s milk. I have a bottle ready for her. I keep it outside in the box on the windowledge.’
‘Let me get it.’ He hauled the window open and fetched the bottle, while Hannah collected Mercy who was squalling pitifully. ‘It needs warming.’ She nodded towards the iron pot she’d rigged up over the fire. ‘If you place it in the water, it’ll heat up quite quickly.’
‘Perhaps not fast enough to save our eardrums,’ James smiled. ‘Hannah, you can’t live like this. It isn’t right.’
‘It’s the best I can do. Mercy has clean clothes, warmth, fresh air, food and more love than I thought capable of bestowing on a single human being.’
‘What I said wasn’t an insult. I admire what you’re doing, but I find it painful to see you in a place like this when, in my mind, you deserve nothing less than a palace—’
‘Will yer keep that racket down? Either feed the child or put it out of its misery. I ’ave a piller that’ll do the job very well.’ The words were accompanied by a hammering at the door.
‘Oh dear. That’s one of the other lodgers.’
‘Then something must be done. I’ll go and—’
‘No, James. You would be at a considerable disadvantage – Mr Garling is twice your size and has the use of both arms.’
‘You mean, he would enter into a fight with me?’
‘I wouldn’t put it past him. Pass me the bottle – take it out of the pot with the tongs, then wrap it in the cloth. That’s right.’
He handed the bottle to her. She sucked on the teat to unblock the hole, then turned it upside down, pouring a couple of drops of milk on to her wrist.
‘That’s perfect.’ She offered Mercy the teat, and after a moment or two of crying and snuffling, she took it. ‘Silence is golden. Are you sure you still want us after that?’ she asked when the only sounds she could hear were the baby sucking, and the air bubbling back through the milk as she drained the bottle.
‘More than anything in the world,’ James said.
On the first Wednesday in June, Alice was with Hannah at the lodgings James had found for her, having decided that Mrs Wells’s rooms weren’t suitable for his fiancée and an infant.
‘You’ll have to put her down soon, you know,’ Alice chuckled as Hannah walked up and down the bedroom, rocking Mercy gently in her arms.
‘I know.’ Breathing in her sweet, milky scent, Hannah kissed Mercy’s forehead. ‘I’m getting married! I can’t believe it.’
‘Neither can I, when I look back to all the times when you said you’d never wed.’ Alice went to answer the doorbell. ‘Miss Gold is here,’ she said, returning with a young woman who was dressed modestly in a navy coat and hat.
‘You’ve come to take Mercy,’ Hannah sighed. ‘I’m not sure I can give her up.’
‘You’ll see her after the wedding, no doubt.’ Miss Gold smiled and, reluctantly, Hannah handed Mercy over and watched as the baby settled contentedly in her arms, confirming what she already knew: that she and James had chosen well. She couldn’t wish for a better nanny. ‘I’ll look after her, Miss Bentley,’ she said. ‘Oh, I’ll have to get used to calling you Mrs Clifton very soon.’
‘We all will,’ Alice said.
‘I’ll take her downstairs – I have the pram waiting.’ Miss Gold gave Hannah a small curtsey. ‘I hope you have a lovely day.’
Hannah thanked her, and within the hour, having put aside her mourning dress she was wearing her silk wedding gown with a train and veil, satin shoes and a gift from James, a necklace of pearls.
‘Marry in white, you’ve chosen right.’ Alice fastened the clasp at the back of her neck. ‘I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t even the tiniest bit envious.’
‘I have a present for you.’ Hannah opened the drawer in the dressing table and pulled out a small velvet box.
‘Oh, you shouldn’t have.’
‘It’s a token to say how much we appreciate your friendship.’ She turned to face her. ‘It’s never wavered, no matter what.’
‘Well, of course it hasn’t – it wouldn’t be friendship if it had.’
‘Open it.’ Hannah pressed the box into her hand and watched Alice’s eyes light up as she took out the brooch, a knot forged from silver.
‘It’s delightful. More than delightful. I don’t know what to say, except thank you.’
‘It’s our pleasure.’ Hannah heard the sound of a carriage pulling up outside. ‘I think it’s time for us to leave.’
She took one last look around the rooms that she’d shared with Mercy for the past few weeks. Tonight, she would be staying in a hotel with her husband, and after that, she would be moving into the house in Cecil Square. ‘Alice, look at my hands.’
‘They’re shaking,’ she said.
‘I’m nervous … and excited at the same time.’
‘I believe it’s quite normal for a bride to be a bag of nerves on her wedding day,’ Alice said. ‘Come along now. We don’t want to keep everyone waiting.’
Outside Holy Trinity Church, they were united with the flower girls, James’s nieces, wearing white dresses with blue sashes which matched the colour of the groom’s frock coat.
‘Where is my bride?’ Her heart missed a beat when she saw James come striding towards her. ‘Hannah, you look radiant. Isn’t she the most beautiful lady in the whole world?’ he said, turning to the flower girls, of which there were six, all under ten.
‘Yes, Uncle James,’ they said, giggling and skipping in circles around him.
‘It’s time for you to calm down, young ladies,’ Alice said. ‘We have an important job to do. Can you remember what it is? One at a time.’
James drew Hannah aside while Alice arranged the flower girls in pairs, preparing them to walk into the church.
‘Are you ready?’ he whispered, offering his arm.
Smiling, she nodded and rested her gloved hand on his sleeve, and together they followed Alice and the flower girls along the aisle to the altar where they were married in front of a huge crowd of well-wishers – James’s family, Charlotte and Henry, Mrs Knowles and their friends from the infirmary, and many of James’s patients. Hannah had invited Stepmother out of politeness, but she had declined to attend, giving no reason for her absence. She thought of Ruby who would have loved the occasion, and of her mother who had missed out, but this was no time for regrets.
Tears pricked her eyes as they said their vows – for better, for worse, in sickness and in health – and, after Alice had removed Hannah’s glove, James slid the wedding ring on to her finger. It was a new beginning, the first step into a golden future with the man she loved at her side.