Sprig of Thyme Page 2

  Adella looked away, “I have sworn off men. As I have told you countless times.”

  “Hmm, you have never told me the reason why you have sworn off men,” Leonard raised his brows.

  Adella placed her sewing down for a moment, “No, I have not told you have I?”

  “Then, do you think now is the time?”

  Adella faltered for a moment, one man alone was the reason, and it was time she told Leonard about him. She drew a deep breath and said in a low voice, “It is because of Joel Polwarth.”

  “Mr Polwarth? My new patient?”

  “Yes,” she glanced at her brothers face; it wore a confused frown.

  “Adella, you reacted in a very odd manner to Mr Polwarth this morning. Was there a reason you disliked the idea of going back to their lodgings? You know him?”

  Tears formed in the corner of her eyes and threatened her composure as she whispered, “Yes, I know him.”

  Leonard sat back in his chair and gestured that she continue.

  “I know him, or at least knew him very well. But his name was not Joel Polwarth. He called himself Joseph West then.”

  She stood up and walked behind her chair, feeling claustrophobic under her brother's gaze.

  “I knew him five years ago when I was governess in Sidmouth.” She dropped her head to hide a tear that had fallen onto her cheek.

  “Why are you crying?”

  She pushed back her tears, and wiped her cheek, “I'm not crying.”

  “Did he do something to hurt you?”

  “Yes, no. He did not hurt me physically. He -”

  “You have history with this man?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he court you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You loved him?”

  She looked up, “Yes,” she said, “Yes I loved him more than any other man. I was completely and utterly in love with him.”

  “Tell me, you did not do anything you now regret?” He raised his right eyebrow slightly and it was full of deeper meaning.

  She took his meaning immediately. “No, no! He was honourable in that respect. I was prudent. I would never do such a thing, however much I loved a man. You must believe me.” She shook her head.

  Leonard's expression went from anguish to comprehension, “So he is the reason for your disappointment five years ago. Mother alluded to that time, as have you, but I never knew all the details. I have often wondered why you have not spoken of it though I have been curious.”

  “I wanted to forget. Talking about it brings it all back. Besides, mother and father thought it best that it was not widely known. You see, the whole situation is incredibly awkward and when I tell you everything, you will realise why I have kept it to myself. Yet now, here he is in Bath, and you are his wife's doctor.”

  “Then please, do tell me. I am more than intrigued to know.”

  “Very well. I will tell you everything. I think it is best you know it all. I have been wondering about telling you. Today, it was such a shock to see him. I cannot describe it. The last time I saw him was five years ago. Then suddenly he was there in front of me, and his wife in the same room. I did not know what to do with myself.”

  She started to chew the end of her finger and then deciding that there was no time like the present, drew courage and sat back down, ready to begin her story.

  Leonard waited silently as she composed herself. She had hidden a secret love all this time from him. Leonard had always professed to love her. Despite their different fathers and the six year age gap, he had taught her a fair amount of boyish pranks. Teased her, fought with her and many times made her life a misery. But if anyone bullied or was cruel to her, he was the first to defend her.

  She felt his gaze as she fought back emotions.

  “Adella, if you would rather not speak of it tonight, I understand.”

  “No, it is alright, I need a few moments to think where to start. It is all so difficult to know where to start.”

  “From the beginning?”

  “Yes, I suppose that is the best place. How much do you know of what happened at that time?” she asked.

  “Nothing really, except that you were a Governess weren't you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mother and Father said little more. I can remember they wrote and told me you found a position and they thought it might be good for you; you often professed a desire to see more of the world.”

  “Yes, I did get to see more of the world. A small part of Devon at least.”

  She smiled grimly, took a sip of tea and began.

  Chapter 2

  Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire. Five years before.

  “Adella, Adella,” her mother shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

  “Yes Mother?” Adella appeared at the top, still in her cotton night gown and robe, her hair hanging loose.

  “The morning post is here, this letter is for you and its postmark is Sidmouth.”

  Adella didn't need any more explanation. She ran full pelt down the worn wooden stairs, grabbed the letter, and ripped it open. Her eyes scanned the contents, then she let out a scream.

  “They have given me the job! I'm going to be a Governess!”

  Her mother hugged her, “I am so pleased for you. Though I will miss you dreadfully,” she dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. “When do they want you to start?”

  Adella re-read words quickly, “As soon as possible. It says they gave me the job because they were impressed with my reference from Mrs Peters and the open minded content of my curricula for their daughter. They will pay me a salary of thirty pounds per annum, that should be more than enough to help until father is completely well again.”

  Her mother nodded, “Yes, more than enough.”

  “I am so happy. I can't wait to go. I have so much to do!”

  “Yes, yes,” her mother said, “But first come; you must tell your father. . .”

  She followed her mother through to the dining room, where her father was eating his breakfast. He looked up from his newspaper. Adella was struck anew with how pale he was, there were dark patches under his eyes and as he held his cup, his hand shook a little. His illness had been long and hard all through the winter. It was just as well that she had this opportunity to earn some money.

  “Father, I am going to be a Governess!”

  “Really? Where?”

  “It's the position in Sidmouth I applied for weeks ago.”

  “Sidmouth? Well, well. The sea air will do you good.”

  Adella noticed the unconcerned tone in his voice, “Are you not pleased?”

  His expression softened, “Of course I am pleased my dear, but it hard for me. I should be the one earning money, not you.”

  “But it will be a great adventure. You know how I long to see more of the world. Why not start with Devon?”

  “Why not indeed. But I want you to promise me that if are home sick, or your employers treat you badly, that you will come home immediately?”

  Adella took hold of her fathers hand, “I promise.”

  ***

  A few days later, Adella was seated in the second class carriage of the train, on her way to Devon. She looked out of the window eagerly taking in the every bit of the passing landscape. The noise of the engine, and the chatter of the other passengers meant she had little chance for quiet reflection. She strained to hear what the two women nearest her were talking of, but every time she looked across, they moved their heads closer together. She was tired, being unable to sleep much the night before from all the excitement, but she didn't notice her exhaustion too much. There would be plenty of time to sleep once she arrived.

  The first part of the journey was long and arduous, and several times she checked her pocket watch, to see if the train was running to time. It was. Her mother and father had waved her off, and though sorry to be leaving them, she was touched by her father making the effort to come to the station.

  She arrived in London to change trains, an
d hurried to the correct platform in good time. She briefly thought about leaving the station to have a look at the outside; it was a few years since she had been to London, but she didn't want to miss the connection, or the opportunity of getting a window seat again. Eventually, the connection arrived, and she was on her way to Devon.

  When she arrived at Axminster, a carriage was waiting for her. It took her the few miles to her new home: and her new employers, Mr and Mrs Waters.

  The house was moderately sized, and not as grand looking as Adella imagined. Still, it was prettily situated a mile from the sea in its own well kept grounds. She looked forward to exploring them.

  “How was your journey my dear?” Mrs Waters said shaking her hand. Adella stood inside the hall and tried not to be too overwhelmed by the size of the staircase and the fine brocade wallpaper.

  “Very good thank you. The trains ran smoothly and to time, and I met a few interesting people on board.”

  “You must have had to leave early?”

  “Yes, the train left Aylesbury at six o'clock this morning.”

  Mr Waters gave a polite nod of his head, “Well, what a wonderful age we live in that you can be in Aylesbury this morning, and Devon this evening. Look, it's just past seven.” He pointed to a gold clock sat on the mantle piece.

  “Well,” Mrs Waters said, “I expect you are tired and hungry, and would like time to unpack?”

  “Yes.” Adella lied. She wasn't hungry, having been given enough food for a week by her mother. But she didn't like to refuse Mrs Waters offer. Especially this early on in her employment.

  “Then I shall take you to your room, and have cook send up supper for you.” Mrs Waters said. “Come to breakfast tomorrow morning with us, and we can discuss the finer details of your tasks, and you can also meet Mary. I'm sure you two will get on well.”

  “You also have a son I understand?” Adella asked.

  “Yes, Harry is twelve and away at school; at Harrow. Mr Waters was a Harrow boy, and was determined Harry should go there too, weren't you?” she looked over at her husband, who nodded. “He is doing remarkably well, his reports are glowing and all the teachers love him.”

  Adella nodded her approval, bid farewell to Mr Waters, and was shown to her room by Mrs Waters. It was comfortable, adjoining the school room on the third floor. The wallpaper was plain, and there was no other decoration. There was a washstand, a bed, wardrobe and chest of draws all made of plain matching oak. Everything was functional, clean and in need of a few feminine touches.

  “Thank you, this is very comfortable,” Adella walked to the open window, and though it was dark outside, she looked out and asked, “How far are we from the sea?”

  “It's half an hours walk. Not far at all.”

  “I can smell the salt in air, even from here.”

  “Can you? I have lived here all my life so I don't notice things like that.”

  “I would have loved to have grown up by the sea.”

  Mrs Waters walked to the door, “Well, I am sure the sea air will make you sleep well tonight. I will have your supper sent up. Goodnight.”

  When she was alone in her room, Adella sat on the bed, her mind full of the task ahead. She had a nervous anticipation, but was certain she was up to the task. She wondered what little Mary would be like, and whether they would get on. If she was anything near as pleasant as her mother, they would do well.

  Adella set about unpacking her clothes, and when she finished, she sat back and admired her room. This was her new home. She wasn't home sick, not yet. But first things first, she wrote a letter to her parents to let them know she arrived safely.

  The next morning, Adella went to breakfast with Mr and Mrs Waters. She slept well, but woke early and was still a little fatigued, her lack of sleep the night before catching up on her. She entered the dining room and tried not be intimidated by its size and elegance. The table was made of mahogany and the chairs looked so finely carved she feared she might break them. There was a young girl sat at the table. Nine years old, with most adorable blond curly hair. Mary.

  “Do come in Miss Maxwell,” Mrs Waters said. The girl stood up, and Adella went straight over to her.

  “You must be Mary,” she said holding out her hand, and smiling.

  “Yes,” said the girl shaking it, and smiled back.

  “I am Adella Maxwell, and I'm very pleased to meet you.”

  “Can you play croquet?” Mary asked looking up at her, an inquisitive look on her face.

  “Yes, yes I can.”

  She jumped up and down and clapped her hands, “Oh good, can we play later? I love Croquet.”

  Adella looked over to Mrs Waters, who nodded.

  “Yes, we can play later. But first, breakfast?”

  Mary sat down, and continued eating her toast.

  “A lady always eats breakfast,” Adella commented, “It helps her concentrate and not fatigue before lunch.”

  “I love toast, with lots of butter and marmalade.”

  Adella smiled, “So do I. But I like Kedgeree too.”

  “Errrghhh, fish. I hate fish.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “She used to eat it when she was younger,” Mrs Waters said, “but lately she has taken a dislike to it. Such a shame seeing how close to the sea we are.”

  Over breakfast, Mary proved herself to be what Adella thought; a delightful girl. She was outspoken and bold, but was not pretentious or spoiled by her parents. She showed Adella around the house, and grounds, they held hands as they went, Mary dragging her from one room to the next. They spent the day talking and getting to know each other and of course, they played Croquet. Adella let Mary win.

  Alone in her room that night, Adella mused that Mary was the ideal child to be governess to. In fact, they were inseparable after two days. Mary had never received her mothers full attention, she was too busy running the house and with social engagements to give herself full time to her daughter, so having a governess suited them perfectly.

  ***

  A few months later, and Mary was responding well to Adella's tutoring, though it hadn't always been smooth going. She wanted to play sport all the time and longed to be outside most of the day. She didn't like sewing, and Adella despaired several times when she produced such bad stitches because she had done the work too quickly. So Adella wrote to her mother for advice, and was told to withhold Mary's favourite activities until the sewing improved. It worked, and though Mary always sewed under protest, she did improve enough for Mrs Waters to be grateful to Adella.

  One fine morning, the two were together in the schoolroom at the top of the house, the sun shone brightly through the windows and Mary practiced her French verbs. Adella was seated next to her, patiently listening and correcting where she needed. They were interrupted by Mrs Waters bursting into the room in a fluster. She was holding a white lace covered handkerchief and waved it about as she spoke.

  “Adella, Mary my dear, Mr Waters and I have received some terrible news.” Her face was pale.

  “What is it?” Adella asked, a hundred terrible thoughts going through her head.

  “It is dearest Harry. We have heard from his school; he has whooping cough!”

  “That is terrible. How long is he into the illness? Is he going to be alright?”

  Mrs Waters started to cry, and Adella ran over to her and put her arms around her. They stood there for a few minutes as she tried to tell her what had happened, how Harry was, but her speech was incomprehensible.

  Eventually she calmed down and they noticed that Mary had her arms around her mother too.

  “Don't cry Mama,” she said, “Is Harry going to die?”

  “No, no he's not going to die. He is strong and will get through this,” she sobbed.

  Adella led them all to one of the sofas as Mrs Waters explained.

  “An express arrived about half an hour ago from Harry's headmaster. He is in the school infirmary. The letter said that he is at a critical stage and if h
e makes it past today they think he will pull through. Mr Waters wants to go and see him but I am afraid that he will catch it too and die. I don't know what I would do if they both died.”

  “But you said Harry wasn't going to die and now Papa is going to die too!” Mary started to cry, and covered her face with her hands.

  Adella was a long time trying to comfort both mother and daughter. She wasn't sure her efforts to console them was helped at all. Some time later, Mr Waters entered the school room looking for his wife, and Mary flung herself at him,

  “Papa! Mama said you were going to see Harry and that you are going to die!”

  He picked up his daughter and looked at her, “Of course I am not going to die my little one.”

  “You are! You are!” she rubbed her eyes, “Please don't go.”

  But he did travel to Harrow the next day, to be near his son and heir. He reported a few days later that Harry had pulled through and was to be removed home for proper recovery at home. Mrs Waters was as relieved as any mother would have been and prepared the house for her son's arrival. She double checked everything, was fractious on more than one occasion to Mary, and took to lecturing the servants much more frequently than she normally did. Luckily, Adella was not often on the receiving end of her remonstrations.

  Harry returned home and he made a slow recovery. He suffered badly with his illness and needed much care. His mother was the main provider of this, and fussed over him, insisting the doctor visited everyday for the first month, regardless of cost. He seemed to enjoy the attention.

  After two months, he was well enough to take part in lessons with Mary and Adella.

  “And what do you think of the story, Harry?” Adella asked one day after reading to them both in the schoolroom.

  “I think it's stupid. It's for babies, like Mary. Can't we read something interesting.” He slumped back in his chair and folded his arms.

  “Like what?”