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That was now taking all of her attention. The growing realization that Harold was not responding, even to her most heartfelt pleas, was a growing emptiness inside that she could not bear to see. Instead, she looked around for things to fill her time, seeking anything that would take her mind from her aching heart. Master Hitch’s account of his son’s journey to Wales with Teddy was what she had latched on to.
Charlie Hitch resided in Ardle Heath and worked as groundskeeper for the Lindley Manor estate. She had got his address from the family ledgers, kept in Simon’s office. He had been careful to conceal the financial pit that the family found themselves in, but those ledgers which were not locked away gave the list of those still employed by the estate. Actually, Simon appeared to have been recently hiring much more staff.
Ruth told me that the estate was on the verge of bankruptcy. I wonder where the funds have come from to employ so many? It would certainly explain Simon’s good mood of late. He rode out this morning practically singing.
The carriage clattered over the ancient Roman bridge that crossed the Ardle River into Ardle Heath. Alice had directed the driver to take her to Mill Road, a street that ran along the river on the north side, past a row of cottages and then the mill itself. She looked out over the modest dwellings, each with a small garden at the front, most of them turned over to vegetables. They were red brick and of a single-story with thatched roofs for the most part. The mill loomed over all in the distance.
Alice leaned forward in the seat as the driver brought the carriage to a halt, and it rocked on its springs.
“Charlie Hitch’s house, milady,” the driver called down. “That’s his wife, Mary, putting out the washing there.”
Alice climbed down the carriage as the woman turned to face her. She had wide hips and brown hair, bound up by a scarf. Her face was handsome rather than pretty but she smiled at Alice’s approach.
“Mary Hitch?” Alice asked.
“Yes, my lady,” Mary said. “I know you, you’re Lady Hathway, from up at the big house.”
“Yes, that’s right. I’m looking for Charlie. Is he in? I understand this is his day off from the estate.”
“Yes, he’s in. Please come in, my lady. I’ll call him.”
Alice opened the simple wooden gate and walked along the dirt path that led to the house. Mary preceded her, stooping beneath the thatched eaves, and opening the door to call inside in a loud voice. By the time Alice reached the door, Charlie Hitch filled it.
He was a man in his late twenties, with the stature of an oak tree and a mass of curling dark hair. He stood in breeches and shirtsleeves, wiping soil from his hands.
“This is a surprise, Lady Hathway. Didn’t expect a visit at home. Is there a problem at the estate?” Charlie asked.
“Not at all, Charlie. I needed to speak to you. It’s about my brother.”
“Lord Simon?” Charlie said with a frown.
“No, Lord Edward,” Alice replied.
If she expected a reaction, it was not forthcoming. Charlie nodded as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Well, don’t stand on ceremony, Lady Hathway, please come in and have a cup of tea with us.”
He went into the house and Alice followed. Inside was a dimly lit room with a fire glowing in the grate. Mary was placing a kettle over the fire. A table dominated the room with an armchair in one corner, its fabric patched and faded. Efficient use had been made of the limited space the room held, with cooking implements hanging from hooks and bunches of herbs in the window to dry. Charlie sat at the table and invited Alice to sit opposite.
Then he folded his hands in front of him and waited politely for her to begin.
“Your father told me that you had accompanied Lord Edward on a journey to Wales. Many years ago.”
“Aye, that’s right. Lord Edward was unwell and I was sent along by Lady Cynthia to help.”
Alice nodded as though this was all common knowledge to her. Lady Cynthia was her mother, who had since passed away.
“I don’t really remember the illness or much about that time. It must have been seven years ago?” Alice said.
“About that,” Charlie agreed. “But you were away at the time. Your Aunt Ruth had taken you to the seaside as I recall.”
Alice remembered that. An idyllic summer spent with her cousins at Brighton. Aunt Ruth had also passed on, and Alice’s sister had been named after her. When Alice had returned, Edward was gone and Simon was the Viscount. Their father had passed on the year before, thrusting Edward into the position of head of the family.
“What was his illness, do you remember?” Alice asked.
She remembered the deterioration in Edward’s health. In her innocence, she had assumed that the responsibility of running an estate the size of Lindley was enough to make a man gray. Her father had been, before succumbing to an attack of the heart.
“Don’t rightly know, my lady. Wasn’t ever explained to me and it wasn’t my business. But, he needed a lot of help. Wasn’t steady on his feet and looked like a skeleton. All skin and bones he was.”
