The Dressmaker's Secret (The Chronicles of Alice and Ivy Book 1) Page 6

  She walked to the window and looked out on the London street below. What would her neighbors think if he stayed too long? The gossip would spread fast.

  “I’d have to give them up …” she whispered. “Let them go, so they can have a life.”

  Steven was silent behind her, and at last she turned to face him.

  “What would you—?” he stuttered out.

  “If they were to become the wards of … of a benefactor.” She stepped toward him. “It could happen. Nettie could be their governess as always, and, sometimes, she could report back to me. And I could disappear—I’m good at it. I could go to France. I know the country well.”

  His chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “I didn’t expect to hear you say that.”

  Claire bit her lip. “Before today, I didn’t expect to say it. My brother, Charles, could take them eventually. They could be the children of … of distant relatives or … or old friends. It might work.”

  “More likely, it wouldn’t,” Steven retorted. “Claire, you’re insane. You know that isn’t something you can do—I saw the way you looked at them. And your brother is reliant on your father. Who, other than Charles, could take them in? You know I can’t.”

  “Nor would I ask you to.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “But perhaps the remains of the Elton family would be able to do it. The Knights certainly have the money—and Mr. Knight and I grew up together.”

  His smile tightened. “I doubt it would happen.”

  “It’s a thought anyway. I had friends when I was a young lady—surely some of them would have pity.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it.” Steven sighed. “The best course of action is for us to marry. I feel an obligation, really, and—”

  “Forget your obligations! I’m not interested.” The words left her lips before she had time to think. Earlier, she’d been unsure, still considering her options.

  But now she knew. She didn’t want to marry Steven Parker. The life she would have with him would be a difficult one. It wouldn’t be an improvement for her children to have parents constantly fighting than to have no father at all.

  Steven Parker wasn’t a sure thing. She could imagine him doing so many reckless, crazy, impossible things—and, if he fell, she wasn’t going to fall with him.

  She wasn’t going to fall with or for anyone ever again.

  “Oh.” He seemed shocked, then a slow smile appeared on his lips. “I’ll salvage my pride and not plead. Shall I let myself out?”

  Claire shook her head with a wry chuckle. “Sorry. I’ve been rude.”

  “No, that’s all right. A lady has her rights—one of those rights is to say no.” He cocked his head. “It took me a while to learn that, but it’s true. I appreciate your forthrightness. It’s better than to be dangling. I’m not a boy madly in love, so it’s not a long drop.” He leaned against the mantel again, looking quite debonair. “So, are you really going to try to give your children away?”

  “That’s not how I would have put it, but … perhaps.” Claire acknowledged the truth in her heart. “I’m not sure I can bear it, but isn’t part of love to put them first? Maybe I could arrange it so I could see them sometimes.”

  Steven shrugged. “Well, I’ll leave you, Claire. I’ll let you know if I come up with a wondrous solution to your problem, but I doubt I shall. Hopefully your resourcefulness will last. Not every debutante would be able to do what you’ve done.” He grinned. “Have a nice evening.”

  “You as well,” she said distantly.

  He left, and Claire sat down to think.

  Chapter Seven

  The following morning before the sun had even risen, Alice ran to Nettie’s room, which was attached to theirs. After hastily donning a wrapper over her nightgown, Nettie followed her through the door.

  “I don’t know why she got sick again,” Alice said disapprovingly, jumping onto the bed next to her twin.

  “Shush, Gracie! Don’t jiggle her.” Nettie hurried across the room and placed a hand on Ivy’s flushed, sweaty forehead. “Oh, dear girl, you’re burning up. Alice, run for your mother. She’s probably still in bed.”

  Confident Nettie would tend to Ivy, Alice ran to her mother’s bedroom and burst through the door. She raced across the room and bounced onto her mother’s bed.

  “Mummy, Mummy! Ivy’s sick again.”

  It was somewhat of a habit with Ivy to be sick. Alice was used to waking up to find her twin feverish, listless, and grumpy. She didn’t think much of it, but Nettie and Mummy always did.

  The amount of fuss Ivy got was ridiculous, and it made Alice just a tinge resentful. Though, sometimes it was fun to play nurse.

  Mummy hurried out of bed and ran to the girls’ bedroom. Alice watched from the door.

  Nettie stood from the bedside to make room for Mummy. “It seems bad, Claire.”

  “It always does.” Mummy pressed her hand to Ivy’s forehead. “Ivy? How do you feel?”

  “Mummy?” Ivy’s voice was weak.

  “That’s right, darling. I’m here. What hurts?”

  “My head … and I feel cold.” Ivy clung to Mummy’s arm. “So c-cold. Will you make me better?”

  “I’m going to try, darling.” Mummy smoothed Ivy’s damp hair from her forehead. “There, now. Close your eyes. I’m here, and I’m going to take care of you.” She glanced up at Nettie. “Why don’t you get dressed and wake Mrs. Bennett? Ivy might like some broth.”

  Ivy shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

  “You could be in a bit—and you have to eat to get well. It will give you strength.” Mummy glanced toward the door. “Alice, run along. Ivy needs her rest, and we can’t have you underfoot.”

  Alice went downstairs and found her way to the kitchen.

  In no time, Mrs. Bennett was up and about, fussing and tutting. The cook was sympathetic, as always, though she did refer to Ivy as “that poor little poppet.”

  Alice thought, for once, that she was a poor little poppet, too, being ignored by both Mummy and Nettie. But as the day continued, Alice realized it wasn’t just like any other time Ivy had been sick. The anxiety in the house was pressing and unforgettable, like a heavy, scratchy blanket on a hot day.

  How was this different from any other time Ivy had been sick?

  Then she caught her mother and Nettie speaking outside Ivy’s room.

  “I don’t like it, Nettie. She’s so weak! What if … what if we lose her?” Mummy’s voice trembled like a glass teetering on the edge of a table. Alice had never heard her mother use that tone before, and she shuddered at the sound of it.

  Nettie wrapped her arms around herself and sighed. “Claire, I think we ought to call the doctor. This is worse than her other illnesses. She seems to be having trouble breathing! And perhaps a doctor—”

  Mummy shook her head. “We can’t risk it! Too many people know about the girls already. If anyone else finds out … It’s not even worth thinking about. It’s too much of a risk.”

  “But, if Ivy’s dead, she won’t need to be protected!” Nettie’s voice was a quick snap, and Mummy cringed.

  “W-we don’t know that she will die.”

  Nettie nodded. “I’m sorry, that was harsh. I’m just worried; it’s hard to be calm.”

  “No, you’re right.” Mummy’s hands trembled, and Alice could see tears pooling in her eyes. Heart racing, she rushed forward and buried her face in her skirts.

  “Mummy, is Ivy …?”

  “Hush.” Mummy folded Alice in a hug. “Let’s send for a doctor. Everything else is secondary to Ivy’s health.”

  As Nettie ran down the hall, Mummy gently turned Alice’s chin up so she looked at her. “Dearest, you were wrong to listen to our conversation.”

  Feeling ill herself, Alice trembled in Mummy’s arms. “B-but, Mummy, is Ivy going to d-die?”

  “Oh, darling, I … I hope not!”

  Hope not? Alice needed a lot more assurance than hope not. “But Mummy—”


  “No, Alice. Don’t worry about it.” Mummy turned and went into Alice and Ivy’s bedroom, leaving Alice standing in the hall alone.

  She wasn’t allowed to follow.

  Alice resumed her seat between the floorboards and the long carpet that ran down the middle of the hall and hugged herself.

  After a time, she rose and paced the floor, hands folded behind her back like Uncle Charlie, head down and frowning in frustration. But this soon grew boring, and she went to her mother’s room and sat there patiently.

  About an hour later, she made her way down to the kitchen. Mrs. Bennett was cooking some wicked, steaming concoction on the stove, but she at least acknowledged Alice, nodding to her when she entered the room.

  “What’s that?”

  Mrs. Bennett cocked her head. “Poultice the doctor’s going to try on Miss Ivy’s chest to get her breathing again.”

  Alice blinked. “She’s not breathing?” Didn’t people who weren’t breathing die? Or rather, weren’t they already dead? And, if Ivy were dead, there’d be no getting her back. Alice understood that much—had since Kitty lost one of her babies last year.

  “No, dearie, but she might not be soon if the doctor don’t get her lungs cleared out.” Mrs. Bennett tapped the spoon on the edge of the pot and picked it up with a rag-covered hand. “Now, you stay down here while I take this up, all right?”

  Alice nodded and slumped onto a chair at the table. Maybe Ivy’s going to die, she thought as Mrs. Bennett walked up the kitchen stairway. God, don’t let Ivy die. I love her, after all, and it just wouldn’t do.

  Claire watched over her younger child, desperation tearing at her heart until she feared she was the one dying, a slow and painful death of fear and heartbreak. Questions teased her mind constantly, bringing new helplessness, new pain.

  I’ve already borne too much; why me and mine again? Can’t we have some cessation? Why couldn’t I be the one dying? Must it be Ivy, my darling Ivy? Shouldn’t she get a chance at life … and shouldn’t I be allowed to keep her after all this trial?

  Nettie spoke the same dry, empty phrases she always did, about God and love and plans for each of their lives. But how could that be true?

  As a young girl starving for affection, she had reached out once, begged God to change her parents’ hearts, to make them give her love. The next morning, she had found the same violent father and timid mother she’d known all her life.

  There was no getting around it—her life was of no interest to God. Or, rather, He saw a need to punish her continually for sins not her own.

  “I just don’t understand it, Nettie.” Claire whispered the words as she paced the floor of Ivy’s bedroom in the flickering candlelight. “I could understand if it were me … After what I’ve done, I understand that God wants to hurt me. But my child?” She ran her hand over her face, trying to scrub some of the pain away. “My precious girl, my Ivy. My link to the man I loved, my hope of happiness.”

  Nettie was silent for a long time before she whispered, “There’s Alice, Claire.”

  “I know that, but … Ivy is the child I should have with me in my old age. Alice won’t love me then as Ivy will; she’ll have her own life. And I want her to. I want her to soar, but Ivy … Ivy is my nestling.”

  Claire glanced to the chair beside the fire and saw a small trembling around Nettie’s lips, weak though it was, as she spoke. “I think you’re right, but Ivy may surprise us.”

  “If she lives,” Claire snapped bitterly. “If she lives to surprise us! To have a life! This is so unfair. I know she’s weak, but I thought we were over the worst of it. And now I have a useless doctor telling me to prepare myself, as if he were talking about a trip to the countryside. Losing my child, Nettie!” The emotions she’d been keeping in check with anger focused behind her eyes finally burst forth, causing tears to leak out. “If I lose her, I don’t think I want to go on.”

  “But Alice—”

  “I know! I know. I have a duty to her, and I could never regret that.” She dropped onto the chair opposite Nettie and hastily wiped her tears away. “I only fear I won’t be able to follow through.”

  Nettie bit her lip. “I don’t know what to say, Claire. Without God, there isn’t much hope for me to offer, but I will continue to pray for her and for you.”

  Claire sighed and shifted so she wasn’t facing Nettie but the fire. She couldn’t deny that this situation was beyond her, that she didn’t know what to do herself … Yet, something must be done.

  She couldn’t watch Ivy fade away before her eyes; however, she was helpless to stop it from happening.

  Slowly, she returned her eyes to her maid’s face. “Nettie, if I were to pray and ask God to save my child, would He do so?”

  Nettie blinked. “Well—”

  “If He were real, He would have to.”

  “That’s not how it works. He both gives and takes, and it is up to His wisdom to determine which and why. It has nothing to do with anything we do or don’t do. I—”

  “Then why pray?” It was nonsensical to pray just because praying was what one was taught to do, and Claire knew Nettie was anything but nonsensical. She trusted her maid for good sense, even if she did believe in a God Who had only ever hurt them.

  Nettie stood and stepped toward Claire—stopped and folded her arms as if she didn’t know what to do with them. “Prayer isn’t about getting answers. I know you’ll never believe me, but God cares about you, and He always listens. Yes, what will happen will happen, but some of the happenings have to do with us, as we’re the ones who put them in motion. The choice is yours: will you beg for Ivy’s life or won’t you?”

  Claire swallowed. “But you just said it might not make a difference.” She wasn’t going to open her heart only to be disappointed. Purposeless faith in God held no interest to her. She only wanted Him if He was going to save Ivy.

  And it would seem that there was no easy way to guarantee it.

  “Prayer makes an incredible difference for me, believe it or not. I don’t feel right when I don’t pray, and I’ve seen things happen in response to my prayers—”

  “Which you just said were going to happen anyway.” The amount of nonsense one had to believe to follow God was overwhelming.

  “And I just gave my response. The fact is, Claire, that we’re only human and not in control of life and death, but God is. And He loves us, so we must trust Him to take care of us.” Nettie returned to her seat. “Now, I could tell you—”

  “Oh, shush, Nettie! I don’t want to hear it. Not now.” Claire rose and walked toward the door, then paused. Her chest tightened with guilt. Nettie didn’t deserve her harsh words; she was everything a good friend ought to be. “That was rude, and I’m sorry, but this subject frustrates me.”

  Nettie cocked her head. “I don’t mind your rudeness. Not if it means we’re going to keep talking about these things. I want you to keep thinking about God until you can’t help but realize He’s there and He wants you.”

  Claire placed a hand on the doorframe. “I believe that you think it’s best for me, and that your persistence is a labor of love. So thank you … even if I don’t think it’s doing any good. God can’t love me.”

  “And can He not love me, too?” Nettie rose again and walked over to the bedside. “Despite it all, you’ve been blessed, really. The things I endured in my past have led women to take their own lives or live a horror-filled existence, but God was stronger than that. I must believe He loves me, as without Him, I was broken and lost, but when I found Him, I was able to embrace life again.” She half-smiled. “It could be the same for you. The idea isn’t that He’ll wipe it all away—not yet at least—but that He’ll give you the ability to bear your sufferings and even rejoice in them.”

  Claire barely restrained an eye roll. “If you were able to go back and change that night, you know you would.”

  Nettie’s smile faded. “It’s a useless thought as I never could—but, honestly, with the foreknowledge o
f what it would bring me, I would make no changes.”

  More insanity. It had been a long day, and Nettie was raving. Of course, of course they would both make drastic changes in their lives if it were in their power to do so!

  Then, softly into her mind the names Alice and Ivy were whispered, and she suddenly felt very cold, and her hand trembled on the doorknob. “You’re right. There are some things that I could never change.”

  Nettie’s face lightened. “I thought you would say that. Because, after all, what would our lives be without them?”

  Claire chuckled. “I’d be rich and respected, you’d probably have found a husband by now, and we’d both be living happily ever after.”

  Nettie shook her head wryly. “So optimistic of you.”

  “Realistic.” Claire sighed. “I need to get Alice settled for the night, but I’ll come back. Please come get me if there’s even a slight change.” She glanced toward the still figure in the bed. “At least she’s breathing easier, but the doctor was hardly positive.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be much better after a good night’s rest.” Yet, Nettie’s smile trembled about the edges. “I can tuck Alice in.”

  Claire considered it for a minute, but Alice probably needed to see her after their words in the hall. “I’ll tuck her in, but you can check on her after we’re settled. I have a few things I need to say to her … I was distressed this afternoon and probably frightened her.”

  “Oh dear.” Nettie twitched in place, obviously wanting to run straight to Alice and soothe her fears with meaningless nothings about a God who loved them, but she remained where she was nonetheless. “I’ll have to come in and pray with her after you’re finished.”

  “Of course.” Claire might be opposed to religion for herself, but it seemed to comfort Alice and Nettie … even Ivy, come to think of it. They all prayed and read the Bible and whatnot—and Claire supposed there was a certain reassurance to be had in “God will protect me” and other platitudes.