had been intended to wound and remind her of her miscarriage. ‘I might not be a mother, but I know well enough what a person in pain looks like. Eleanor should be examined by a doctor in case the babe is coming sooner than expected—’
‘My wife needs no fussing over. She doesn’t like that sort of thing.’ His voice was slightly raised now. ‘She was up yesterday and playing with her daughter. It is to be expected that there will be occasions when she feels tired as her time nears. She was like this before Lily was born.’
Mrs Grove gave a cough...or perhaps it was a snort, Dawn thought, on glimpsing the woman’s angry profile. ‘Nevertheless I insist that the doctor comes here today, to put all our minds at rest.’ Dawn’s voice was controlled but full of grit.
‘As I have said, we shall talk later, Mrs Fenton.’ Peter turned to the cook. ‘Let me have my wife’s drink. I shall take it to her. If she’s left undisturbed for the rest of the afternoon, then I’m sure she will feel better and be able to get up at dinner time.’ With a nod for Dawn he left the kitchen with the glass of lemonade Mrs Grove had thrust at him.
For a moment Dawn could only stare at the closed door, at a loss to know what on earth was wrong with the man for him to hold such a callous attitude. And why had he banned her from seeing her stepdaughter until dinner time? She knew that was what he had done. A weight settled in her stomach as she realised she had a battle on her hands. She wouldn’t give up on getting Eleanor the help she needed and hoped to glean some information from the cook as to what had recently happened. ‘Mrs Grove...’ she said, but was halted by the woman putting a finger against her own lips. A few seconds later Dawn heard footsteps receding along the corridor.
Dawn felt a chill creep over her. So Peter had been loitering to eavesdrop and from the way Mrs Grove had reacted she guessed he had done so before. Perhaps when a conversation had been taking place with her mistress. Did the vicar spy on his wife?
Dawn had never liked him, but never before had she felt uneasy in his company, or in his house. Now she did. Having observed Mrs Grove’s caginess, Dawn knew his servant felt the same misgiving as she did about the Reverend Peter Mansfield.
‘Don’t ask me questions about the master’s business. I’ll not gossip even if I have an answer to give.’ Enid shook her greying head.
‘Well, tell me this at least. You have had children, Mrs Grove. Is this a normal malaise for a woman in her condition? My stepdaughter looks so very ill.’
‘Some women do have a hard time of it. But he’s right about one thing: she’s young and once she was healthy, too. To my mind, there’s unhappiness in this house,’ Enid whispered. ‘And that can be as harmful as plague. But now that you’re here, m’m, things will be better. I know the mistress will be taken care of and little Miss Lily, too. Mrs Mansfield must be that glad you’ve turned up at last to help her.’
Dawn winced at that hint at her tardiness. ‘I wish Eleanor had put more in her letters. I would have come directly had I known she was ill.’
‘He reads her letters...them that comes and them that goes.’ Mrs Grove gave Dawn a significant glance.
Dawn started to question the woman, but Enid shook her head.
‘I’m sorry, m’m, but I’m done with it all.’ She looked sorrowful, but ploughed on. ‘I’ll leave your dinners on the stove before I go home, but I’ll hand in me notice now you’ve arrived to take care of things.’ She agitatedly resumed rolling pastry. ‘I expect he’ll find another cook quick enough. Plenty of women in the village want part-time work.’
Dawn had listened in astonishment. ‘What has caused Eleanor’s unhappiness?’
‘He’s the trouble she’s got,’ Mrs Grove muttered. ‘And the trouble the vicar’s got is to be found out there. Maybe the recently departed are playing on his mind.’ The woman pointed towards the graveyard that lay to the east of the church. ‘This warning I will give you and you’d best heed it: don’t be venturing out after dark that way, Mrs Fenton, ’cos you don’t know what you might meet.’ With finality the woman turned her back and busied herself with cups and saucers. ‘I’ll bring a tray to your chamber when the tea’s brewed. I must get on and get this pie in the oven. He likes his dinner on the dot. Six of the clock sharp.’
Dawn felt rather angry with the woman for talking such tosh. She knew that country folk could be superstitious and believed in gremlins and ghosts. But she didn’t! And she wouldn’t be taking heed of any warning. She believed the trouble in this house was most definitely of this world rather than the other.
Dawn could cook and clean...but why should she when the vicar was perfectly able to pay for a couple of servants? She knew she couldn’t do everything herself any more than Mrs Grove could. ‘Will you at least stay on until another cook is found and I will help with other tasks?’
‘Very well... I’ll do it for the mistress. I’ll stay until she’s back up on her feet and the new babe in the nursery. She’s been good to me, has Mrs Mansfield,’ Enid Grove said. ‘God bless her.’
* * *
‘You must tell your stepmama that you are simply feeling tired, my dear, and do not need the doctor to come. Mrs Fenton is fretting about your health.’ The vicar gave his wife a smile. ‘Now that you have rested in bed all afternoon you feel much better, don’t you?’
‘I do. My headache has gone,’ Eleanor said and rearranged the cutlery in front of her.
‘But, you don’t look better...’ Dawn fell silent, having noticed her stepdaughter’s startled look. Eleanor didn’t want her husband to be gainsaid.
‘I am quite well, I assure you.’ Eleanor picked up her soup spoon.
‘We will say grace,’ her husband reminded her before making a steeple of his fingers and closing his eyes. His wife rested her spoon on the bowl and copied him. Dawn simply bowed her head, glaring at pea soup.
Eleanor was still flushed and unsteady on her feet, needing to be escorted to the table by her husband. Earlier Dawn had gone to her stepdaughter’s room despite Peter’s veiled demand that she stay away. She had tried the door, but it had been locked and when she’d softly called through the panels Lily had whimpered to be allowed to see her grandma. Eleanor had then admitted she didn’t have a key to open it up.
The knowledge that Peter had locked his wife in her room increased Dawn’s feeling that something sinister was going on. But she wasn’t frightened, as Mrs Grove appeared to be. She was angry and determined to protect Eleanor and Lily. She wasn’t afraid of what was ‘out there’ as the cook termed it. But she knew there was a real danger from men who believed they knew what was best for their womenfolk when clearly they didn’t.
The prayer at an end the vicar poured them all a glass of ruby wine as though he were the most solicitous and amiable of fellows.
Dawn noticed that Eleanor glanced her way several times with a look that seemed to silently beg her not to again raise the subject of her health. So Dawn decided she would not. She’d deal with the matter herself, with or without his assistance.
The moment the meal was over Peter excused himself saying he had to go back to the church for a meeting with the verger.
‘Do you feel well enough to come into Wivenhoe with me tomorrow, Eleanor?’ If the doctor could not be brought here, then Dawn would take her stepdaughter to his
