Hope - Lesley Pearse [49]
She was staggering like a drunk by the time she got to the stable yard; so dizzy she couldn’t even see straight. But a ray of light spilling on to the yard from the kitchen window stopped her from giving in and collapsing. It was just a few more steps to safety.
Baines was dressing when he heard Rose cry out. Thinking she was having trouble with the stove, he came out of his room beyond the servants’ hall in his shirtsleeves, only to find her kneeling on the kitchen floor beside young Hope who appeared to be in a dead faint.
He assumed it was only the result of exertion on an empty stomach; he’d found young girls were prone to passing out if they did too much before their breakfast. But Rose was lifting the girl’s head to put a cushion beneath it, and as she withdrew her hand, he saw it was covered in blood.
Baines had more than enough on his plate already. Cook had died during the night, and along with the sadness he felt at losing a dear friend so suddenly, he also had the worry of how they would manage until the mistress could find a suitable replacement for her. Now this!
He rushed to get the smelling salts and wafted them under Hope’s nose. When she began to come round, her first words were a halting apology. He turned her on to her side to examine her head, assuming she’d had a fall on the drive. Then he saw livid red fingermarks on her neck and knew it was no accident.
‘Who did this to you, Hope?’ he asked.
She didn’t reply, just looked at him with fear-filled eyes.
‘Come on, tell me,’ he insisted. ‘Was it a poacher?’
Poachers were a problem. They were usually after pheasant or deer on the Hunstrete estate, and if the gamekeeper was after them they cut through Briargate’s grounds. But Baines had never known a poacher attack anyone who wasn’t threatening them.
Hope appeared too shocked to answer, so he told Rose to get a bowl of warm water and a cloth so he could bathe her wound. She was in the scullery when Nell came into the kitchen.
‘Hope!’ she exclaimed, her face blanching as she saw the blood. ‘Did Albert do this to you?’
Baines was astounded that Nell would immediately consider her husband a suspect, and was glad Rose was out of earshot. But as Nell dropped to her knees by her younger sister, her expression held such anger, along with horror, that it was clear she had some good reason to blame Albert.
Baines had always held Nell in the highest regard. Had it not been for his position and the fact that he was so much older than her, he might have been tempted to admit he held romantic ideas about her too. Yet he was glad for her when she took up with Albert, for she clearly wanted a home of her own and children. Albert appeared to be a good choice of husband: he was steady and hardworking, even if he was a trifle dour.
In the light of Nell’s revelation, Baines now saw a reason for why she wasn’t the vibrant, talkative woman she used to be before her marriage. Up till now, he’d thought this to be the result of increased responsibility, or perhaps disappointment that she hadn’t found herself with child. It had certainly never crossed his mind that Albert himself might be the cause.
When Rose came back, Nell took the bowl of water from her and began cleaning the head wound, murmuring little endearments to Hope and begging her to tell her how this came about. Baines watched Hope’s face, and he could see she was fighting the urge to admit the truth. That was practically proof enough it was Albert, for the child clearly wanted to protect her sister from shame and embarrassment.
Baines felt a little faint himself now, for the law wasn’t kind to women; fathers and husbands could inflict tremendous punishments on female relatives with no fear of prosecution. If Albert could do this to a young girl, what might he do to Nell if she took him to task for it?
Sir William was the person who ought to deal with it. A stern warning that he would be watching out for Hope and Nell in future