Chapter Eight

The week before the Christmas party, the children’s excitement began to rise, and it was difficult to get any work done. Jeanne finally resorted to taking the young ones to some of the ancient plaques hanging near the chapel and having the children point out letters and then tracing them with their fingers. She heard the older children reciting their letter combinations: A, B, abb, A, C, ack, A, D, add… but this time they sang them to a silly tune. Had Robert arrived at that idea himself?

After instruction, the entire group gathered for their treat: plum pudding, Cook’s specialty. She noticed Robert watching each child closely and nodding in satisfaction as the rules of etiquette they’d taught in previous sessions were followed.

The children were dismissed and left with their parents, leaving Jeanne, Robert, Giles, and Nancy to pack things up. Jeanne had picked up the last napkin when she felt a tug on her skirt.

Please, Miss Brown. Could I take some of the leftover food for me mum? She hasn’t had anything to eat for days.”

Of course, Andy. Let me wrap some for you. Is — is your father still at your home?”

The boy’s face darkened. “He’s there, but he — he doesn’t talk to us. Unless he’s yelling. And if he’s yelling, we get out of the way.”

Andy?” A soft voice called from the entrance to the cathedral. Jeanne barely heard it, but the little boy raced toward the cathedral entrance.

Mummy!” he called.

Jeanne followed, wanting to see the mother who had to send her son away to hide from his own father. Perhaps she could use some help getting away herself.

Mummy, no! Mummy, wake up!”

Jeanne raced to where the boy lay, sprawled over a tiny woman. His sobs echoed through the sanctuary. Reaching them, Jeanne noticed the woman had bruises covering her face and arms. She was small — not much larger than her son, and her emaciated condition indicated her son had told the truth about her not having eaten.

She knelt over the woman and found she still breathed, though it was shallow. She felt Robert behind her and tried to ignore the sense of comfort she derived from his presence. “Nancy,” she called. “Please bring some water for this lady. And perhaps some food.”

The two servants arrived quickly. Robert lifted the woman’s shoulders, and Nancy helped her drink.

Who did this to you?” Nancy asked, indicating the bruises.

The woman’s lips moved, but no sound came.

It was my papa,” the boy spat. He paced as he spoke, his disgust for his father evident with every word. “’E came home again yesterday, yelling and hitting, and Mum sent me here. ’E’s always hitting, ‘cause ’e’s mad at people fer not lettin’ him work. I want to get strong so’s I can beat ’im the way ’e beats us.”

No, Andy.” The woman’s voice cracked, and her face etched in pain, but her purpose was clear. “I don’t want you to be like him. I want you to be better than that.” She looked up at the people surrounding her. “Please. Could you help me get home? I just need to rest, and then Andy and me, we’re going to go. We can stay with my parents in Bedford. I hope Archie won’t look for us there. The fresh air will be good for me boy. And maybe I can get work in the village. We’ll be happy there.”

 

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Robert helped the woman up, but it was evident she didn’t have the strength to walk. He bent and scooped her into his arms then asked Andy to show the way to his home. Jeanne and the servants followed.

Andy led the way through the dark streets, pointing out the rough spots in the road so that Robert wouldn’t trip. Jeanne and the others followed. Lecherous greetings followed them from both sides of the street, and they all stepped carefully to avoid the garbage strewn haphazardly in the road. Robert took shallow breaths through his mouth

The boy finally stopped in front of a doorway. “Can you help me bring Mum inside, please?”

Robert nodded and followed Andy into a dark room. He paused to allow Giles to come in with the lantern. The light made Robert wish he couldn’t see the squalor in which Andy and his mother lived. The one-room dwelling held no furniture, no windows, and absolutely no adornment. Even the tiniest of the servant’s quarters held more appeal than that. On the floor in the far corner, a thin pallet covered with a single blanket served as the bed.

Put her down here.” Andy gestured to the pallet. “Could I give her some of your good soup, please?”

Give him everything we have left,” instructed Robert as he lay the woman on the pallet. Giles and Nancy nodded and set the remaining food down.

Robert leaned down and placed a hand on Andy’s shoulder. “It isn’t safe for you and your mother to stay here. Your father could come back any time, and even if he doesn’t, this place isn’t enough to shelter you from the coming winter. I need to return to the duke’s home tonight, but I will be back with more food for the two of you and some other help. Your mother needs a doctor, and you need warmer clothes. And you must leave this place.”

But where would we go?”

Your mother mentioned her parents—”

Mummy must be confused. She gets that way sometimes after papa hits her. Her mum died last year, and her papa died before I was born. I remember she cried when she found out about her mum.”

Robert’s heart clenched. The boy and his mother have no one else. He sighed. “We’ll have to arrange something. I don’t know what, but we need to get you out of here. I’ll be back, soon. I promise.”

The boy nodded, hope shining from his eyes. “I’ll wait for you, Mr. Townley.”