Chapter Two #2
They arranged for Lady Treatley to be fitted for a few more new gowns, which the seamstress on the grounds would sew for her. She would wear one of those to visit the bank manager and use the other couple to travel to Bath.
“I will place you on a mail carriage to Bath,” Matthew told her. “Or if you have adequate funds, you might wish to rent a post chaise to convey you there. Does your husband know of your sister and her whereabouts?”
Lady Treatley snorted. “I doubt it. He would have had to listen to me when I told him of her becoming a widow. She had no children, the same as I, and the new heir wished her to be gone from his estate. Bath was the nearest town, and she has taken rooms there.”
“I think it better you travel by mail coach,” Mama said. “And take a different name in case any of the passengers speak to you. Lord Treatley could always hire a Bow Street runner of his own and try to track you down.”
“That is excellent advice, Your Grace,” Lady Treatley said.
“I should have enough to purchase a small cottage for my sister and me. We might stay in Bath—or we could go elsewhere. Whatever I do, I shall write to you and let you know where I am.” Grim determination filled her face.
“I wish to help you in any way I can. If I can donate funds to help you remove women from those abominable places, I will do so. If one needs shelter, I will house her and help her get back on her feet.”
“You are more than generous, my lady,” he said. “Mrs. Paul will take you to be fitted for new clothes now. I will return in a week’s time and escort you to town.”
They all rose, and Lady Treatley took their hands in hers, squeezing tightly. “You have given me my life back, Your Graces. I am forever in your debt.”
Mrs. Paul took charge of Lady Treatley, and Mama led Matthew upstairs to the room where Miss Stannis had been assigned.
All the rooms at Dove Hall were painted in soft, pastel colors.
The house had an abundance of windows, which allowed for quite a bit of natural light to shine inside, giving the house a cheerful appearance.
Mama tapped lightly on the door and then opened it, saying, “Miss Stannis, it is the Duchess of Reddington and her son, who is the duke.”
He followed Mama inside, seeing the still body lying on the bed. As they drew closer, he saw Miss Stannis staring at the ceiling.
They took a seat in the chairs beside the bed. In cases such as these, he knew to let Mama do the talking. Many of the women they freed from the asylums were traumatized by the experience and especially terrified of men. Matthew would sit quietly and speak only if Mama signaled him to do so.
Mama quietly began talking to Miss Stannis.
She mentioned the weather. What she had eaten for breakfast. The names of the carriage horses which had brought them there.
All the while, Matthew could see the young woman listening, not reacting, but she was not so far gone as to be unaware of their presence.
Finally, Mama touched Miss Stannis, placing her hand atop the other lady’s. Miss Stannis’ body jerked, but she did not pull away.
That was a good sign.
For another hour, Mama talked of inconsequential things. Tasks assigned to the household staff. The recent autumn harvest which had been brought in. How a housemaid had wed a local farmer, leaving Mama to look for a new one to hire. Then she mentioned a new addition in their barn.
“One of our cats has had a litter of kittens,” Mama began. “It is not a usual time of year for that to occur, which is why it surprised me. She had four in all. A tortoiseshell. Two tabbies. And one quite nondescript little creature.”
“I like kittens,” Miss Stannis said, the first words she had spoken since leaving the asylum.
“Oh, so do I,” Mama said. “I am so glad we have that in common. You know, you might want to come to Redfield and see the litter.”
A few moments of silence. Then Miss Stannis said, “Yes. I want to come.” The young woman turned to look at Mama. “It was awful,” she whispered.
“I know,” Mama said, patting Miss Stannis’ hand. “I have been in an asylum myself.”
“You?” Surprise was obvious in that single syllable.
“I spent two years in a madhouse,” Mama confirmed, her face grim. “I wanted to die.”
“So did I,” Miss Stannis said, tears leaking from her eyes. “Anything would be better than remaining there.”
Mama indicated Matthew, and Miss Stannis finally glanced at him.
“I helped free Mama from her situation. I did the same for you.”
Looking puzzled, the young woman said, “Why?”
He kept the vehemence from his voice, knowing she needed a gentle tone. “Because it was wrong to place you there. Mama heard whispers about it during the Season.”
Miss Stannis frowned. “When is it? You said something of the autumn harvest.”
“It is the third week of October.” Then, knowing Mama had heard the gossip last year and that they had been searching for Miss Stannis for over a year, he added, “The year is eighteen-o-eight, my lady.”
More tears came now. “I lost over a year in there. Papa had me carted off in June. When I refused to wed that old, fat cow. Lord Burghley.”
Her words confirmed everything Larkin had discovered.
Miss Stannis was the only daughter of a viscount who had agreed to sell his daughter in order to gain property adjacent to his country estate.
Lord Burghley had to be past seventy, and this young woman, known as a bluestocking, had not been one to go quietly.
“You do not have to wed anyone, Miss Stannis,” Matthew assured her. “You are safe at Dove Hall now. You may remain here as long as you like.”
Panic suddenly filled the young woman’s eyes. “Do you live here?”
“No, we live at Redfield, my son’s ducal estate in Suffolk,” Mama said. “But His Grace purchased Dove Hall so that ladies such as yourself had a place to go and recover before they decided the next stage of their life.”
Miss Stannis grabbed his mother’s hands. “Do not leave me here! He will find me. Take me back.” She began weeping again. “I cannot go back. I will kill myself.”
Those words signaled to them both that Miss Stannis needed extra care. Most of the women they received were in bad shape, both physically and emotionally. A few, however, were fragile and required more.
“You will return with us to Redfield now,” Mama said soothingly.
“Once you get your bearings, you may come back here to Dove Hall and stay as long as you wish. Some have decided to remain on the estate and help others like them. Some have moved on, taking new names, going to work for a living. You will have all the time in the world you need to decide what is best for you.”
“Promise me I will never have to see Papa again. Or that awful Lord Burghley,” demanded Miss Stannis.
“I give you my word as a gentleman,” Matthew said. He looked to Mama. “Shall we return to Redfield?”
Miss Stannis was wearing a night rail, so Mrs. Paul was called in to help provide a gown for the young lady to wear.
He went downstairs and waited while Miss Stannis was dressed and Mrs. Paul found a few other gowns which would work.
Miss Vines, their resident seamstress, always had extra gowns made up in a variety of sizes for those who came to Dove Hall.
While they might not fit exactly right, it gave the women something to wear other than the usual gunnysack they almost always wore when he brought them to Dove Hall.
Matthew handed up Mama into the carriage and then gallantly offered Miss Stannis his hand. His heart ached, watching her hesitate.
“Take it, my lady. I know it is hard for you to trust any man at the current moment, but you have my sympathies. My own father placed Mama in an asylum. I was able to liberate her upon his death. I have seen in person what dreadful places they are, and I do my best to free women when I can.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What did you have to promise to achieve my freedom?”
“I settled upon a certain price with the doctor who ran your asylum,” he said, not sharing how much it cost to remove Miss Stannis from the place of horror.
“I refuse to pay you as I did him,” she said, anger and mistrust evident in her eyes.
“I expect no payment from you, Miss Stannis.”
“He . . . made me . . . pay. Every week.”
Since he already knew that the girl’s father paid monthly for her to be kept locked away, Matthew had a good idea what the doctor had required of this young woman.
“You are to make every decision for yourself, Miss Stannis,” he assured her. “And that includes what you do with your own body.”
She bit her lip, tears forming in her eyes. Gently, Matthew took her hand and handed her up. Miss Stannis scrambled to the seat where his mother sat, throwing her arms about Mama and weeping profusely. He climbed into the carriage and sat opposite them, mouthing one word.
Rape.
Mama’s own eyes filled with tears. While she herself had not been subjected to it during her own imprisonment, it was something a few of the women they had helped had suffered.
Miss Stannis would take even longer to heal emotionally.
They would also have to see if she might be with child, which was a possibility.
Mrs. Hanson would be called in to examine Miss Stannis.
Mrs. Hanson was a local midwife, and she was also skilled in the use of herbs.
The women seemed to take to Mrs. Hanson with ease, and she would spend hours in their presence, talking with them, letting them pour out their miseries to her.
Mrs. Hanson would have her work cut out for her with Miss Stannis.
They reached Redfield. He disembarked from the carriage and quietly told a footman to have Mrs. Ridley prepare a room for Miss Stannis. By the time he helped his mother and their guest from the vehicle and into the house, Ridley met them.
“Shall I have tea brought up, Your Grace?” the butler asked, handing Matthew a note. Seeing it was from Hugo, he quickly read and then pocketed it.
“Yes, Ridley,” Mama said. “And slices of cake. Miss Stannis is no doubt hungry. And water for a bath as well, Ridley.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The young woman did appear emaciated. Many of the women they helped also had been starved as punishment.
Even beaten. Mama would nurse this wounded dove back to life.
Hopefully, Miss Stannis’ mental condition would stabilize so that she might take a new name and become employable.
If not, she would be forever welcome to stay in one of the cottages on the grounds of Dove Hall.
They went up the steps, each of them on one side of Miss Stannis. The footmen knew to give any of these sudden guests a wide berth.
Mrs. Ridley was in the corridor and indicated which guest bedchamber to place Miss Stannis in. They guided the young woman inside, and she collapsed upon the bed.
“Tea and cakes will be here soon,” Mama promised. “Then we shall bathe you.”
He witnessed the panic surging through the woman. “No. I do not want anyone to touch me.”
“It will only be me,” Mama promised. “I shall wash your hair for you and help you to bathe.”
“But . . . you are a duchess,” protested Miss Stannis.
Mom gazed levelly at her. “A duchess who has suffered as you have. I promise to be gentle.”
Miss Stannis began to sob, and Mama moved her hand, indicating for Matthew to leave them alone.
Stepping toward Mama, he quietly said, “Remember that we are to dine with Hugo and Tia this evening. Tia’s aunt and two of her cousins have arrived.”
“Go without me,” Mama urged. “I cannot leave Miss Stannis unattended in this condition.”
“Very well,” he said. “I will plan to stay the night so I do not have to come back in the dark. I will see you tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you, Matthew,” Mama said, her own eyes brimming with tears. “You have saved another one.”
He nodded, leaving her with their latest damaged dove.
These errands of mercy took a lot from him.
Matthew was glad he could push today aside and enjoy dinner tonight with his good friend and Tia.
Already, he was fond of his friend’s wife.
Tia had been excited about her cousins coming to visit.
It would be nice to return to a sense of normalcy for a while.
At least until the next woman needed help.