Fallen Grace - Mary Hooper [38]
Mrs Beaman bobbed a curtsey, trying not to look at the value of the note but hoping for a pound.
‘The fact is, the new young person in question . . .’
‘Lily?’ Mrs Beaman asked. The note was the wrong colour for five pounds, she couldn’t help thinking.
‘Lily,’ Mr Unwin confirmed, ‘has been taken on by Mrs Unwin and myself as a charity case. Her sister will be working as a mute for us, and was anxious that Lily should be looked after, too, because she is rather . . . rather . . .’ At a loss how best to put it, he made a wavy motion with both hands about his head.
‘Quite, sir,’ said Mrs Beaman. Obvious, that was.
‘I’m afraid I assured her sister that Lily could be taught to be a maid, but you and I know, of course, that she would not make a very satisfactory one. She could, perhaps, clean boots or somesuch?’
‘Perhaps, sir,’ came the doubtful reply.
‘I’m sure you will do your best with her,’ Mr Unwin went on, unfolding the note, ‘and thank you for your understanding. There’s just one other thing: Mrs Unwin and I are very interested – in a charitable way – about this young person.’
Mrs Beaman raised her eyebrows slightly. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘We are anxious to know how it can happen that girls from good families fall on hard times. So that it might be prevented in future, you see.’ He waited for Mrs Beaman to nod and continued, ‘Perhaps if she mentions anything about her background, you wouldn’t mind passing it on to us.’
Mrs Beaman tried to hide her surprise. ‘If you wish, sir.’
‘Thank you. And of course this matter must remain completely confidential between ourselves.’
‘Of course, sir.’
The banknote was pressed into her palm at last and Mrs Beaman bobbed another curtsey and went back to the kitchen, frowning a little at its value. Only ten shillings! Well, as long as he kept them coming . . .
x
A whispered consultation between the three Unwins followed in the parlour. Mrs Unwin had been told the whole story and the likely amount of the inheritance (and was already planning to buy a seaside villa in newly fashionable Brighton), and now Charlotte was informed of the situation. Both were then told of the new plan to ‘adopt’ Lily.
Mr Unwin had been rather fearful of Charlotte’s reaction, but she – eagerly anticipating the Season – readily undertook to try and persuade Lily that she’d been adopted some years previously, in return for a smartly painted gig. With this, and a competent lady’s maid of her own, she was quite sure that she would take London society by storm . . .
x
Chapter Fourteen
The following day, by the round pond in Kensington Gardens, an extremely elegant woman, holding a small child by the hand, stopped to admire a baby in a smart new bassinette.
‘What a beautiful baby!’ she said. ‘A little cherub!’
Mrs Robinson paused and smiled. ‘He is, isn’t he?’ she said. ‘I know one shouldn’t really praise one’s own, but really, my husband and I think he’s absolutely adorable.’
The woman looked once more at the baby, and then at Mrs Robinson, as if comparing them. ‘Lovely features. And I think he has your eyes!’
The new mother went slightly pink with pleasure. ‘Yes, they do say that.’
The other woman picked up her own small child and held him aloft so that he could see into the bassinette. ‘See the baby, George! Such a pretty thing!’ Young George seemed more impressed with the boats on the pond, however, and the woman put him down again. ‘You have no nanny, I see.’
Mrs Robinson shook her head. ‘Never! I wouldn’t let anyone else look after Baby. Baby is precious!’
‘Quite. I have three children – quite well spaced out in age – and I nursed each one myself.’ She smiled slightly. ‘To tell you the truth, I mostly did it because I was worried that they might come to prefer Nanny to me!’
Mrs Robinson laughed.
‘And where does he get his colouring from?’ The woman looked once more into the bassinette. ‘I can see curls under that bonnet! Your husband has the auburn hair, does he?’
Mrs Robinson started, as if she’d been asked