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    Constance
    Constance
    Constance
    Ebook260 pages4 hours

    Constance

    By Suzy Stewart Dubot

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    About this ebook

    A charitable heart may lead to a passionate one...
    The war against Napoleon has left wounded ex-soldiers littering the streets throughout England. Unable to work, they beg.
    In memory of her young military brother, Constance Trubridge, a wealthy twenty-eight-year-old spinster, sets out on a mission to help the defenseless men. Little does she suspect her own defenses are about to be breached.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSuzy Stewart Dubot
    Release dateSep 30, 2011
    ISBN9781513073804
    Constance
    Author

    Suzy Stewart Dubot

    An Anglo/American who has lived in France for nearly 40 years, she began writing as soon as she retired. She moved to London in 2012 and spent more than a year there with family. The spring of 2014, she returned to France, Her laptop has never had any trouble following her.Before retiring, she worked at a variety of jobs. Some of the more interesting have been : Art and Crafts teacher, Bartender, Marketing Assistant for N° 1 World Yacht Charterers (Moorings), Beaux Arts Model, Secretary to the French Haflinger Association...With her daughters, she is a vegetarian and a supporter of animal rights! She is also an admirer of William Wilberforce.(If you should read her book 'The Viscount's Midsummer Mistress' you will see that she has devoted some paragraphs to the subject in Regency times.)PLEASE BE KIND ENOUGH TO LEAVE A REVIEW FOR ANY BOOK YOU READ (hers included).

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      Book preview

      Constance - Suzy Stewart Dubot

      CHAPTER 2

      War is Hell

      Thomas took Tobias’ departure particularly hard. It wasn’t so much Tobias’ abandoning the family businesses that affected him but the pure loss of his son. Working daily in close contact with his son had been a source of immense pleasure and pride. He had looked into the future and seen Tobias taking over the reins from him, living with a wife and children nearby to brighten his latter days. Why ‘living nearby? Indeed, living at home with him and Constance. The house was large enough.

      Now he couldn’t bear thinking of him, because the dreadful images of war drained every shred of optimism he had. He took it as a punishment. Although not an especially religious man, he couldn’t help feeling that Proverbs had it right: Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.

      Constance kept abreast of reports of battles won and lost on the continent through newspaper articles. The letters they received from Tobias were months arriving so they were happy to receive them, but there was always the nagging thought that he might now be dead. Fighting in the Peninsular was by all accounts depressing, even when advances were gained. Portugal and Spain were both poor countries before war, so it was virtually impossible to live off the land as an army battling for supremacy. Spain had been invaded by the French, whose army now had a stronghold there. Indeed, Napoleon had named his brother Joseph, king of Spain, where he had been ruling for nearly five years. Portugal, being a British ally, accommodated them on their territory but it had also submitted to attacks by the French. There was a see-sawing of armies, advance-retreat, that made Constance want to weep from frustration.

      Tobias, nevertheless, wrote with humour in his letters. He spoke of a poor straggly chicken they had miraculously found for a meal. They had all benefited from the soup but then had drawn straws to see who had what piece to suck and chew on once the bird had been stewed. He had drawn a foot, which turned out to be quite tasty although it didn’t bear thinking about. There was ‘camaraderie’ within the troops which gave hope to Constance. The idea that they would each be guarding one another allowed her the tiniest respite from despair. And so it went on, month after month.

      -o0o-

      The businesses continued, more or less, in the same vein. Constance kept the accounts for both, and the war didn’t seem to affect sales very much. Thomas had promoted two men already working in each business to cover for Tobias and, despite their lack of charm, nothing astounding changed. Except, Thomas lost weight and his full face became haggard. He was fifty-four years old and he began to look older.

      One evening when he had missed dinner, Constance went to him in the library. The room seemed a masculine domain as it smelled more of leather than paper. The desk had a dark leather insert and most of the books were leather bound. Thomas sat in a leather chair behind the large desk, papers and books spread before him but his eyes were fixed on something only he could see. She tapped a second time on the door to draw his attention and saw his eyes focusing once again on the room and then on her.

      Papa, you can’t continue to miss meals. You’re beginning to frighten me.

      She went behind the desk and put an arm across his hunched shoulders. She rarely showed him a physical sign of affection but she bent forward, still holding him within her embrace and kissed his rough cheek. She could see where he had missed shaving whiskers at the back of his jaw and they were white. A deep and sudden sadness clenched her heart. Her brother was gone and her father was getting old. It was all she could do to check her tears.

      I’m sorry Connie if I’ve caused you undue concern. I just can’t bring myself to sit at a beautifully dressed table with a fine cloth, crystal, silver and food fit for a duke when my son is happily eating a chicken’s foot. What does that say about his conditions? God forgive me, but I don’t care if Boney overruns us, makes us his servants, and conquers the world. I WANT MY SON! I love him and I’ve never told him so. He may be dead. He’ll never know, unless he comes home, now.

      It was too much for Constance. She caught a sob in her throat before it could escape. Tears trickled down her face, but there was no way of stopping the flood now that it had started. Her father had only put into words her own sentiments, and by voicing them had released the barrage which had held her steady for months.

      Don’t do this to yourself, Papa. Toby knows that you love him. You’ve shown it in every possible way. Words are only that. Anyone can utter them. Actions far outshine words any day. Let me bring you some bread and cheese. You’ll be no use to anyone if you starve to death, and you’ll only bring sorrow to Toby when he returns.

      He showed no signs of resisting, so she went to the kitchen to ask Mrs. Gray for a tray for her father.

      Mrs. Gray was at the sink but immediately saw the tears on Constance’s face and the nose which was still wet after sniffing. She wiped her hands on the tea towel she was holding and went to Constance. Her big comfortable body wrapped itself around her, something a servant would never do. But now she wasn’t a servant but part of the family meting out solace to someone needing it.

      Women have to be strong, lass. I mean our souls. Just remember that out of bad comes good. I’m convinced of it.  I’ve seen it time and again when you least expect it. If not, life wouldn’t have much sense, I reckon.

      She handed Constance a pristine handkerchief which she’d taken from her apron’s pocket. Constance took it with a bleak smile and a nod of her head.

      I suppose you’ll be wanting a bite to eat for your father, then? Mrs. Gray guessed. I’ll have it ready in a tick. Sit you down while I’m at it, she said as she pulled a sturdy chair from the table to accommodate Constance. In a thrice, she had prepared a tray of the simplest fare—fresh bread buttered thickly, a slab of dry hard cheese and pickled onions with a half pint tankard of light ale.

      This here ale will go down a sight easier for your pa than all his fancy wine. It will make him think of his younger days, she said with a smile.

      Thank you, Mrs. Gray. I sometimes wonder what I’d do without you... You really are a welcome tower of strength. Sometimes, I feel so alone that knowing you are here comforts me. If only the blighted war would end and Toby could come home.

      There was no reply to that.

      So, a routine was set up whereby, Thomas would eat his evening meal in the library while Constance began taking her meals in the kitchen. There was no point in dragging food up the stairs for her on her own, and she was grateful to spend time with the servants as it took her mind off other things. They chattered happily around her. She suspected that Mrs. Gray had had a word with them, because they accepted her cheerfully even though they still treated her with the respect due to an employer.

      The kitchen area on the ground floor occupied the same overall surface as the floors above. It was made up of a very large open space with a table in the middle. There were four small rooms off one side of it—the larder, the storage room, the laundry room (which contained a water closet) and the stillroom, as well as the two slightly larger rooms reserved for the butler and the cook off an adjacent side. As the Grays were a married couple, they used one of the rooms as a sitting room, the other as their bed chamber. The whole ‘below stairs’ ambiance was very cheerful and cosy with Mrs. Gray acting the matron being nearly fifty. There was always a pot of tea waiting (sometimes too strong for Constance) and wonderful aromas which pervaded the whole floor. Constance found herself drawn more and more often to life at the ground level, realising how very cold and empty the rest of the house had become. Skipper was spoiled to the point that he sometimes hesitated before following Constance out of the kitchen. It made her laugh to see his doggy thoughts weighing up the pros and the cons, and then putting affection before food.

      She no longer rode.

      The joy had gone out of it with Toby gone. She did go to the stables most days to take carrots or apples to the horses. The five horses were usually kept in fields behind the stables during the day. Her dun mare, Maisie, always came trotting over as soon as Constance called. There had been a moment when Tobias had considered taking Flash to the continent with him, but he had decided very quickly that he wouldn’t inflict that kind of hardship on his horse, as strong as he might be. The third horse was a fine dapple grey, but he had always been a bit too spirited for Constance, so it was Jules who exercised him. The last two were a matched pair of bays which they used for the carriage. Mr. and Mrs. Gray alternated them once a week when going to market with the wagon.

      Jules took Thomas to work in York when he wanted him to and then went to retrieve him in the evening. Sometimes he would drive Constance into town and wait for her as she shopped or visited with her friends, but that wasn’t very often these days. Her friends were all married now with young children, and she felt like someone on the outside looking in. As the visits were less frequent, there was always plenty to talk about when they did take place, but Constance often left with a feeling of loss, envying her friends their home and children albeit in an unselfish way. A feeling of things missed grasped her more and more often.

      Sometimes there were attempts at introducing her to a gentleman friend with the hope of match-making, but Constance was determined not to accept just anyone for the sake of marrying. She was too independent and certainly didn’t want to relinquish her rights to someone she didn’t love or respect. Married women had virtually no control over their lives without their husband’s agreement. One had better choose wisely or not at all.

      -o0o-

      One afternoon while Betty was busy dusting the rooms, Constance slipped down to the kitchen to see if Mrs. Gray had picked any of the lavender. She surprised her sitting at the table holding a small girl on her lap with a young woman in the chair next to her. Without realising why, she knew this had to be one of Mrs. Gray’s daughters and a granddaughter. As she entered the room, they both stopped talking and looked up with guilty expressions on their faces.

      At that moment, Skipper brushed past her skirts and went towards them wiggling his whole body with his tail. The little girl, who had looked sullen, now smiled and pointed at the dog while pulling on Mrs. Gray’s collar saying, look Nanny, a dog. Mrs. Gray, being the straightforward woman that she was, immediately took over and introduced her daughter, Anne, and granddaughter, May. Without further to do, she explained that Anne’s husband ‘was just now back from the war.’ He had been wounded out of service but his life was no longer endangered.

      Constance felt someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over her. Mrs. Gray had never given a clue that there were members of her family away fighting the French. She had been so engrossed with her own unhappiness that she had never bothered to scratch more than the surface of her servants’ lives. As their mistress, it was her moral duty to be aware of their situations. She was the one with the guilty look on her face now. Mrs. Gray continued, apparently not noticing Constance’s discomfort.

      Anne lives in York and she tells me it is quite distressing to see the number of wounded men who are now roaming the streets. They have been invalidated out of the army with little or no wages, and being less than able-bodied, they can’t get work. They beg. Anne and her husband, Jack, are luckier than most. He’s a locksmith and works from home. Anne, here, takes in pieces to embroider and does tatting. They’ll be all right.

      Forgive me. I had no idea, Constance managed to say. Please, if there are vegetables or fruit from the gardens they could use ... She left the sentence unfinished as her face flushed. It somehow seemed insincere or rather a poor exchange for a wounded soldier.

      I’ll leave you to your visit. I only wondered if any of the lavender had been picked, but I’ll come back later. I’m pleased to have met you, she said, smiling at Anne and May. You are more than welcome to visit your mother whenever you have free time. If you should need any of the remedies from the stillroom, I’m perfectly happy with you benefiting from them.

      With which, she turned and left the kitchen with Skipper close on her heels.

      Nothing much changed in the following months. Constance herself noticed the occasional beggar in a tattered uniform when she went into York. She might not have noticed before Mrs. Gray mentioning it, but there did appear to be quite a few over a period of time who wore parts of a uniform. She hardly frequented areas where beggars would be allowed to remain, but when she did see one, she always made a point of giving him some money. Unfortunately, most of them seemed to be drunk, so she did wonder if she was throwing good money after bad.

      It was Mrs. Gray who told her without fuss that it might not be alcohol which was affecting some of them but rather drugs to ease the pain. Constance’s face paled with the shame of having so easily passed judgement on the men. She swore to herself that in the future she would think twice before coming to any hasty conclusion.

      -o0o-

      The winter threatened to be very cold as soon as they’d entered December. When Christmas arrived, as the Thomas Trubridge tradition would have it, the factory closed for Christmas day and Boxing Day. This was a truly exceptional happening as no other factory would ever consider this loss of paid working hours. To cap it all, each worker was given a sixpence bonus. It would help towards fending off the bitter cold, one way or another. Thomas also believed that in some mystical way it might buy Tobias’ safety.

      They had received a letter from Tobias in December but it was greatly out of date and spoke not of the fighting or hardships but rather of his comrades and officers. One could only gather he was trying to spare them the distress that an account of the war would give. They weren’t spared the worry, though, as the newspapers told within days of the losses or the victories at great cost made by the allies. Constance had a horrible fascination for any news she could glean and tried to follow Tobias’ campaign as much as possible.

      One evening Thomas came in with a package wrapped in pretty paper which he promptly gave to her.

      You need something more entertaining to read than newspapers, he commented, and this came as highly recommended for a young lady.

      She was surprised by the gift as her father was not usually inclined to frivolity or, perhaps, it was just that he lacked imagination. Upon carefully removing the paper, she found the book was entitled ‘Pride and Prejudice.’ She was delighted as she had already heard about it from friends. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears and it was all she could do to whisper, Thank you, Papa dearest.

      January set in with a vengeance, and it was hard to believe it could get colder. It was said that the tidal portion of the River Thames had frozen, which was an extremely rare happening. The cold persisted through February (Constance’s birthday) and March. Nevertheless, no one who had a loved one in the war thought to complain.

      There was no point in warming the whole house, so rooms were kept shut and fires were limited to the library and bedrooms. Naturally, the best place of all to be was the kitchen which remained cosy and warm throughout the whole winter. The Grays were kind enough to give up their sitting room so both Jules and Walter could move into the house to sleep. Normally, they lodged in quarters over the stables, but the cold was really so penetrating, and they all worried about Walter’s health. Surprisingly, no one was ill, but that could be explained by the healthy quantity of food they were all served for an honest day’s work. Toiling for the Trubridges was a privilege which gave each one of them the impression of belonging to a clan. All were loyal to their last breath.

      At the end of March there was a hint of milder weather to come. The British had been battling in the south of France and the newspapers were implying that Napoleon had reached his limit. It would only be a question of weeks before the war was over. No one dared talk about it for fear of encouraging false hope. As it happened, it was only a matter of days before Napoleon abdicated in favour of his son and then, ceded completely several days later on the 11th of April. He would soon be finding himself neatly tucked away on the island of Elba.

      For all intents and purposes, the war was over. Tobias would be coming home.

      Four days later, the letter came from the War Office informing them in so many words that

      ‘Tobias Thomas Trubridge

      was reported missing in action following

      the Battle of Orthez, (France) on

      the 27th February 1814.’

      CHAPTER 3

      Good Can Come from Bad

      Thomas collapsed without uttering a word. As she rushed to her father, Constance screamed for Betty and then Mr. Gray, who arrived in the drawing room first while Betty rushed in behind him. Mr. Gray took things in hand by sending Betty to get Jules NOW! and Mrs. Gray in passing. He tried to calm Constance who was trembling and whose face was white.

      He’s not dead, lass.

      I know he is, she replied.

      He’s not. Look his chest is moving.

      Not Papa, Tobias.

      It was then Mr. Gray noticed a corner of the letter showing from under Thomas’ thigh. He pulled the paper free and without reading it saw at a glance it was from the War Office.

      Dear God in heaven, please have mercy on this family, he intoned. He was a Chapel goer and spoke spontaneously from his heart. Constance sank to her bottom on the floor as her legs no longer seemed capable of holding her. She wasn’t aware of anything else until the next day.

      She woke in her bed early the next morning. Betty saw her stirring and ran to get Mrs. Gray, who arrived promptly with strong tea and biscuits. It was to be the first day of many when Constance would feel numb and detached. Mrs. Gray cosseted her, encouraging her to drink the hot tea and to at least nibble on the biscuits. Without being asked, she skimmed over the details telling Constance that ‘Doctor Russell had been and gone yesterday evening and would look in again this evening. Her pa was in his bed as comfortable as could be expected after such a shock. He’d had an ‘attack’ but it wasn’t too serious and the doctor expected a complete recovery given time and care.’

      Constance wanted to get up and go to her father but Mrs. Gray encouraged her to wait saying, Your pa’s been given something to make him sleep deeply. He won’t even know you’re there. Finish your tea and biscuits. Betty will be back soon enough with water for you to wash with and to help you to dress.

      Constance, in her detached state, nodded her agreement. This was also to be the first full day without Tobias in her world.

      Doctor Ian Russell returned late in the afternoon having finished his rounds sooner than usual. He handed his horse to Jules after taking down his bag.

      He was a tall, sinewy Scot in his middle thirties who was a confirmed bachelor. His life style didn’t leave room for dependants. His clothes were simple enough, dark and warm for travelling about on a horse. His neck cloth was white with an uncomplicated knot. His riding boots had been polished but were now scuffed. He was fair complexioned with hair which was dark blond bordering on red. His eyes were a cold blue which somehow seemed to counter-balance the warmth of his colouring and of his hair. For a fair man, his beard was well-furnished, and at this hour in the afternoon, it was already showing a roughish red on his jaw. It was a nuisance to him and the only reason he shaved was because as

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