She went back downstairs. The Judds and Belinda had moved to the coffee room.
‘I do not like Miss Wimple,’ said Belinda in a low voice, ‘but do you not think Mr Biles too strong a punishment for anyone?’
‘No, I think they will deal together extremely well.’
But when Mr Biles eventually reappeared, Hannah wondered if she had done the right thing. There was a definite reforming gleam in his eye as he surveyed Belinda. Hannah privatedly damned Miss Wimple as a malicious gossip and took herself upstairs to remind that lady that if she told anyone at all about Belinda’s unfortunate experience, she, Hannah Pym, would have no alternative but to report her to her employers.
Not knowing that Hannah had only guessed that she had been talking about Belinda, Miss Wimple thought it was Mr Biles who had told her and felt mortified, for had she not sworn the minister to secrecy? But Mr Biles called on her before bedtime and protested his innocence with such vehemence that Miss Wimple’s spirits were restored. And then, to add fuel to her malice towards her charge, a letter for her arrived by hand from the castle. It was from Penelope Jordan, who wrote that Belinda had been flirting shamelessly with the marquess and had even written to him arranging an assignation. She begged Miss Wimple to be careful of her charge, saying she had warned Miss Pym about the proposed assignation as she felt poor Miss Wimple was too ill to cope, but it was obvious that Miss Pym had lax morals and had done nothing.
With a sigh of satisfaction, Miss Wimple showed Mr Biles the letter.
After exclaiming in horror at the contents, Mr Biles asked who this Miss Jordan was.
‘She is a young lady of sterling character,’ said Miss Wimple, concealing the fact that, because of her accident, she had not set eyes on her. ‘The housekeeper who was nursing me told me she is to wed the Marquess of Frenton. What am I to do with that wretched girl? First a footman, and now she is wantonly pursuing a marquess who has no intention of marrying her.’
‘I shall speak to her and bring her to recognize the folly of her ways,’ said Mr Biles, who was enjoying all this intrigue immensely. But Miss Wimple thought of Hannah Pym and shuddered. She did not want to lose her comfortable and well-paid position as companion to Belinda until she had secured another post. ‘It would not serve,’ she said firmly. ‘We both travel to The Bath. May I persuade you to assist me in keeping an eye on the young lady?’
‘It is my duty as a man of the cloth,’ he said sententiously. ‘No man shall come near her when I am nigh.’
‘He was back in her bedchamber again,’ said Hannah as she and Belinda prepared for bed, ‘and I fear she is a gossip. I am perfectly sure she told him about that footman.’
‘She must be stopped!’ said Belinda, aghast.
‘Yes, but how?’ Hannah sat down on the edge of the bed next to Belinda and, worried though she was, studied her feet, of which she was inordinately proud, with some complacency. ‘I fear I shall have to call on your aunt when we reach Bath and explain to her that your companion is ruining your reputation.’
‘I suppose I should not refine on it too much.’ Belinda sighed. ‘It is not as if a Methodist minister is the height of fashion. He will not frequent the same circles as Great-Aunt Harriet.’
‘But the Marquess of Frenton will,’ said Hannah.
Shocked and dismayed, Belinda stared at her. ‘Yes, my dear,’ said Hannah. ‘Now that we are away from the castle, I must tell you that Miss Wimple must have told Frenton about that footman, and in such terms that he thought you open to his advances.’
Belinda hung her head. ‘How mortifying. Miss Wimple did tell me. But I was silly enough to think he might have cared for me a little. Who am I, after all, when compared to such as Penelope Jordan?’
‘You are a young lady of heart and feeling,’ said Hannah. ‘It was the marquess who came out of that adventure badly and not you. Now that he knows you to be respectable, for you may be sure I put him straight on that matter, he may readjust his thoughts. The Jordans are dull, and despite lineage and money, very common. If he cares for you at all, he will come and find you. If all he wanted was an easy diversion, then you are much better off without him.’
‘It makes him seem so much less noble,’ said Belinda. ‘I thought he was so far above me. He behaved disgracefully, for even had I lost my honour to that footman, I am still an unmarried young lady of good family and not some tavern wench.’
‘That kind never stops to think when something they want comes across their path.’ Hannah patted Belinda’s hand. ‘I heard a little from the servants. He was left quite poor when his father died and restored the family fortune by intelligence and hard work. But a marquess is a marquess, and money or not, he must have been courted and fêted as soon as he was out of short coats. Any female he wants is his for the taking. Do you still care for him?’
Belinda shook her head in bewilderment. ‘I cannot think clearly. Every time I try to think of him, I can only think of my own wanton behaviour. Passion is a cheat, as you surely know, Miss Pym.’
Hannah looked at Belinda doubtfully. Ladies did not feel passion. Everyone knew that, or rather, everyone except Belinda Earle. She herself had never been swayed by such feelings, even when she was the lowest of servants. Certainly, she had been smitten by that under-butler, but that had been a shy and tremulous yearning of the spirit for a friend. Men had lusts, women had love, that was the difference. Perhaps Belinda’s ancestors had slipped up somewhere and introduced a vulgar strain into the blood.
‘Was Miss Wimple very angry when you said you would not share a room with her?’ asked Hannah, changing the subject as they both climbed into bed.
‘Not really. I told her that, as an invalid, she would be better in a room by herself. Are not the conventions strange, Miss Pym? For all we know, Miss Wimple may have been indulging in Roman orgies with Mr Biles, and yet it is all right for them to be locked up in a bedchamber together.’
Hannah began to giggle helplessly. ‘Why, what is the matter?’ asked Belinda.
‘I am trying not to imagine Miss Wimple indulging in orgies,’ laughed Hannah. ‘Did you mark her head? Her hair has started to grow in, a sort of fuzz all over. She looks like a fledgling vulture.’
‘Have you ever seen a vulture?’ asked Belinda, settling back against the pillows and hoping to wheedle a bedtime story from her new friend.
‘I saw a drawing in a book in the library in Thornton Hall.’
‘Did you always read much?’
‘No,’ said Hannah. ‘I was barely literate when I arrived at Thornton Hall, but so ambitious!’
‘So how did you learn to read and write? Oh, I know. I wager it was the beautiful Mrs Clarence.’
‘Yes. It was when I was the between-stairs maid. She found me one day glaring at a newspaper and turning it this way and that, and asked me gently if I could read. I said I could only make out a very few of the words. But she had hired a nursery maid—’
‘She had children? You did not mention children.’
Hannah shook her head sadly. ‘She was so very sure she would have children, don’t you see. She had a nursery all prepared, cradle and toys, and everything so dainty and pretty. She hired the nursery maid, saying she had such a good reputation she wanted to snatch her up while she could. But nothing ever happened. I remember one day passing the nursery and hearing singing. Mrs Clarence was sitting there, rocking the empty cradle and singing a lullaby. It made me cry. I never told anyone.’
Hannah fell silent.
‘The nursery maid,’ prompted Belinda gently.
‘She was young and kind. I think she came from quite a good family which had come down in the world. I was given half an hour’s lesson by her each evening. Her name was Dorothy Friend, and she was a Quaker. A suitable name for a Quaker. I learned very rapidly. Then Mr Clarence grew impatient with what he called “this farce of a nursery” and she was dismissed. Mrs Clarence found her a post in another household. But by the time she was dismissed, I had learned to read and write and add and subtract figures. Sometimes, when I look back over my life,’ said Hannah sadly, ‘I do not think of all the people who harmed me, but quite often of all the kindnesses and wish I could go back and say “thank you” properly.’