7. Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
"A letter from the master came for you, Miss Wilkes," Mrs. Babcock said one morning as Theresa re-entered the house after her usual morning ride with the girls.
"Oh, thank you, Mrs. Babcock!" Theresa accepted the note. "All right, all right, girls," she laughed as she was suddenly swarmed by Richard's daughters, all begging to know what their father had written. "Come, let us sit down and read it together."
Dear Miss Wilkes , the letter began, I hope this letter finds you and the girls in good health and high spirits. I am writing to inform you that the Prince Regent has taken quite a liking to me and has requested my presence in London for an extended period. Though I would much rather be at home with all of you, I cannot decline such a prestigious invitation. I fear I may be away for several weeks.
Theresa's heart sank slightly at the thought of Richard's prolonged absence. He was always so kind and compassionate towards her and his daughters, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of loss whenever he wasn't around. The girls adored him, and they were sure to miss him dearly. Even now, Eliza's lip had begun to wobble. Theresa put an arm around the little girl and continued reading.
I trust you implicitly with the care of my daughters in my absence, and know that you will handle them with your usual loving care and competence.
As Theresa read those words, she couldn't suppress a small smile. It warmed her heart to know that Richard had such faith in her abilities.
Remember to take care of yourself as well, Miss Wilkes, the letter continued. I have no doubt that you will keep everything running smoothly in my absence, but do not forget that you too deserve rest and care.
A blush crept up Theresa's cheeks as she read those last lines. It was clear to her that Richard genuinely cared for her well-being, and while she knew it was foolish of her to feel anything more than gratitude towards her employer, she couldn't help but harbour a secret affection for him. She quickly brushed the thought aside, however, reminding herself that such feelings were neither appropriate nor practical.
Until I return, please give my love to the girls and know that you have my utmost gratitude for all that you do at Belle Haven. Yours sincerely, Sir Richard Bell.
"Sir Richard Bell?" several voices exclaimed in unison, and Theresa laughed.
"Indeed, there is a post script!"
Much to my astonishment, the Prince has knighted me for my provision of fine Belle Haven horses to the cavalry.
"Knighted! Well, I never," Mrs. Babcock said above the joyous cries of the little girls. "What an honour!"
"Indeed," Theresa murmured. "Obviously, the Prince recognised Mr. Bell's fine qualities as much as we do. Sir Richard, I mean," she corrected herself with a little laugh.
"Come now, girls, that's enough. Wash your hands now and up to the nursery," Mrs. Babcock chivvied the girls out of the room, leaving Theresa briefly alone with her thoughts.
"Several weeks," she whispered to herself, feeling both pride and sorrow at the prospect of Richard's extended absence. "We will manage without you, but how we shall miss you."
A week later, Theresa found herself in the sitting room with Richard's daughters, a copy of the Times spread out on the table before them. The headline boldly announced Sir Richard Bell as one of the most eligible gentlemen in England, thanks to his recent knighthood and the remarkable success of his prized horses.
"Look at this!" Anna exclaimed, pointing to an illustration of Richard in his finest attire, astride a magnificent stallion. "Papa looks so dashing!"
"Indeed, he does," Clara agreed, her eyes sparkling with admiration for their father.
"Let us toast to his success," Theresa suggested, pouring some pressed apple juice into glasses for the girls. They raised their glasses high, clinking them together in celebration of Richard's accomplishments.
"Here's to Father!" the girls cheered, sipping their drinks and giggling with glee.
Though she joined in their merrymaking, Theresa couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as she read about the elegant ladies Richard was spending his time with at balls and assemblies. She knew it was only natural for him to mingle in such circles, but she couldn't quite shake the feelings of envy that gnawed at her heart. With a quiet determination, Theresa vowed never to let Richard know of the tender feelings she harboured for him. It was an impossible dream, one that could only lead to heartache and disappointment. She focused on her duties at Belle Haven, taking solace in the company of the horses and the routine of her work.
As winter gave way to spring, the weeks passed by in a blur of activity. The housekeeper at Belle Haven, old Mrs. Babcock, was slowing down with age, her once nimble fingers now stiff with arthritis. It fell upon Theresa to take up much of the woman's responsibilities, leaving her to juggle both her own tasks and those of the housekeeper.
"Miss Wilkes," Mrs. Babcock said one day as they were folding linens together, "I don't know what we'd do without you. You're practically running this household single-handedly."
Theresa smiled warmly at the older woman. "We all do our part, Mrs. Babcock. I'm just glad I can be of help."
"Help?" Mrs. Babcock shook her head. "My dear, you do far more than simply ‘help.' You've become indispensable."
Theresa blushed at the praise but inwardly sighed. She knew the truth of Mrs. Babcock's words, though she wished it were not so. Her increased responsibilities left her little time for leisure, but she refused to complain. She had a roof over her head, food on the table, and the affection of three sweet little girls. Life, she told herself, could have been much worse, and indeed had been, when she was at Duke Street.
That very night, Theresa had just settled the girls to bed when a commotion outside in the stable yard had her peering out of the window.
"What's that shouting, Miss Theresa?" Clara asked, sitting up in bed.
"Nothing for you to worry about," Theresa said firmly, pulling the curtain across. "I'll take care of it. Good night, my darlings." She hurried down the stairs, fully prepared to give a piece of her mind to whoever was raising such a racket when the girls were going to sleep.
"Whatever is all this noise?" she demanded, bursting out of the rear door and striding across to the stable yard.
"Miss Wilkes!" a deep voice called out from the shadows. Theresa stared as one of the grooms emerged, dragging a small figure by the arm.
"Thomas," she exclaimed. "What's going on?"
"Caught this dirty little horse thief sneaking around the stables," he grumbled, shoving the scrawny child forward.
Theresa's eyes widened in recognition as she took in the familiar face of her young friend from the orphanage, Molly. Her mouth went dry, and she fought to keep her composure. " Molly ?"
"Theresa!" Molly cried, tears streaming down her dirt-streaked cheeks. "I didn't mean no harm. I just wanted to see the horses."
"Release her," Theresa commanded, her voice wavering. "I know her, Thomas. She's no horse thief."
Thomas hesitated before nodding and letting go of Molly's arm.
"Very well, but you best be careful, Miss Wilkes," he warned before disappearing back into the darkness.
Tears prickled at the corners of Theresa's eyes as Molly almost fell into her arms.
"Oh, Molly, what have you done?" she whispered.
"I'm sorry," Molly sobbed. "I couldn't stand it anymore. Nobody would let me be anything but a scullery maid and I figured if I'm going to do dirty work I'd rather work with the horses. I knew you'd understand."
"But how did you get here?" Theresa asked, stunned.
"Walked," Molly sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "All the way from London. Slept in hay barns."
"Dear God," Theresa breathed, her mind racing with thoughts of what could have happened to the young girl on her long journey. "You must be freezing, and starved!"
"Maybe a bit," Molly admitted, her teeth chattering.
"Come inside," Theresa said urgently, wrapping her arm around the girl's thin shoulders. "We'll get you cleaned up, fed, and warm. We can discuss what to do in the morning."
Once they were safely inside the house, Molly collapsed into a chair by the fireplace in the kitchen. Theresa quickly stoked the fire, bringing it back to life and sending warmth cascading through the room. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows across Molly's thin, mud-spattered face, emphasising the exhaustion etched into her young features.
"Theresa," Molly whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "Please, let me stay here with you. I promise, I'll work hard. I can help with the horses and anything else you need."
Theresa sighed, her heart weighed down by the girl's desperate plea. She looked at Molly, taking in the dirt-streaked cheeks, hollow eyes, and raw determination that shone from within them. Despite her youth, Molly had achieved the long journey from London to Hampshire alone and on foot, all for the love of horses and the chance to be near Theresa.
"Of course, you can stay," Theresa reassured her softly, offering a small, encouraging smile. "But only until Sir Richard returns and we can discuss your situation with him. After all, he is the master of Belle Haven, and it is his decision to make."
"Thank you," Molly breathed, her eyes welling up with tears of relief. "I won't let you down, Theresa. I swear it."
As Theresa prepared a warm meal and clean clothes for Molly, she couldn't help but think about how much her own life had changed since coming to Belle Haven. It felt like an eternity since she had left the Duke Street orphanage, a scared, lonely girl who knew nothing of the world outside its walls. But now, she felt as if she had found her true home.
And perhaps, she thought with a tender glance at the weary girl before her, Molly could find her home here too.
Before Theresa saw Molly into bed, however, she had an important chore to attend to. Sitting down at the small table in her own room, she took a fresh sheet of paper and began writing the letter that could not be put off.
Dear Mrs. Hatton , she began, dipping her quill into the inkwell. I am sure you will be relieved that I write to inform you that your runaway charge, Miss Molly Tate, has found her way to Belle Haven. I assure you that she is in good hands, and we are doing everything possible to ensure her happiness and well-being.
Theresa just hoped Mrs. Hatton wouldn't demand Molly's immediate return. Molly would likely run away again, and next time, she might not be so lucky as to escape harm.
Until Sir Richard's return, she concluded, Molly will remain safe with us here at Belle Haven. Yours sincerely, Theresa Wilkes.
With a satisfied sigh, Theresa sealed the letter and placed it on the windowsill, ready to be sent to the post the next morning. As she lay down to sleep, she felt a quiet optimism settling over her like a warm blanket, shielding her from the uncertainty of the future.
"Goodnight, Molly," she whispered, as the candle was snuffed out and darkness enveloped the room. "We'll make a place for you here, I promise."
The next morning, Theresa awoke with the dawn, feeling an new sense of purpose. She knew that while Molly was under her care, she would have to prove her worth to Richard once he returned.
"Up you get, Molly," she said, opening the door to the little room she'd assigned Molly to sleep in. "We start early here."
"I'm awake!" Molly sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "I'm ready to work. What can I do to help?"
"First things first," Theresa replied, handing her a neatly folded stack of clothes. "Get dressed, and we'll head to the stables together. The horses are waiting."
As they walked towards the stables, the rising sun painted the sky in shades of gold and pink, casting a warm glow over the estate. Theresa could see the wonder in Molly's eyes as she took in the beauty of their surroundings, and it made her heart swell with happiness and hope.
"Alright, Molly," she said, as they reached the stables. "Your first task will be to muck out the stalls and refill the water troughs. Can you handle that? Thomas will be supervising you." She gestured to the groom, who sighed, but nodded obedience to her order.
Molly nodded eagerly. "Yes, I can do that!"
"Good." Theresa paused, watching as Molly set to work with determination. "Remember, we must prove to Sir Richard that you are an asset to Belle Haven when he returns."
Molly's brow furrowed in concentration as she scooped out soiled straw with the pitchfork. "I won't let you down, Theresa. I promise."
"Who's that?" a small voice asked, and Theresa turned to smile at Richard's daughters, who had come to join her, ready for their morning ride.
"Good morning, my dears! Do you remember I told you about my friend Molly, from the orphanage, who also loves horses? She's come to work here for a while."
"She's brown. Like me," Eliza said, staring at Molly, who smiled at her without breaking from her work.
"My parents came from India. Did yours?" Molly asked cheerfully.
Eliza shook her head shyly, hiding behind Theresa's skirts, but she kept staring at Molly.
"Let's go for our ride." Theresa took Eliza's hand in hers. "You'll have time to get to know Molly later, I promise. I'm sure she'd like to be introduced to Duck."
"Duck's my pony," Eliza almost whispered it.
Molly's eyes widened. "You have your own pony ? My goodness, you must be the luckiest girls in the world!"
"We have a pony each ," Anna said proudly. "And sometimes we get to ride the big horses, too!"
Molly was so astonished, she forgot to pitch straw, at least until Thomas cleared his throat meaningfully. She bent back to her work with a will, but Theresa could see the awe and wonder on her face.
I've begun to take Belle Haven for granted , she thought, as she escorted the girls to the smaller adjacent stable where their ponies were kept. Less than a year, and it already feels as though this has been my home forever.
The sun dipped below the horizon as Richard crested the final hill, revealing the familiar silhouette of Belle Haven against the darkening sky. The sight filled him with both relief and trepidation; he had been away far longer than he had ever intended, leaving Theresa to manage the estate and his daughters without him.
"Welcome home, sir!" A girl, perhaps around fourteen years old, appeared from the stables, her face flushed with excitement, hurrying forward to take his horse. She had brown skin and roughly cropped, straight black hair, dressed in plain brown coat and breeches just like his other grooms.
"Who might you be?" Richard asked, intrigued by the newcomer.
"I'm Molly, sir," she replied, dropping a quick curtsy. "I've been helping Miss Theresa while you were away."
"Ah, I see." He didn't see at all, but he was sure Theresa would explain when he saw her.
"Father!" exclaimed three young voices in unison, as his daughters came bounding down the front steps. They threw themselves into his open arms, their laughter filling the air like a sweet melody.
"Hello, my loves," Richard murmured, hugging them tightly. "I've missed you all so much."
"We missed you too, Papa," Clara cried.
"So much," Eliza sniffled against his collar, and he kissed her black curls.
"I won't leave for so long again, I promise," he vowed.
When he looked up again, the mysterious Molly had vanished, taking his horse inside the stables. With a shake of his head, Richard dismissed her for now. His daughters deserved his full attention.
Once the girls were finally settled to bed, Richard retreated to his study. Settling back into his chair, he looked around at the familiar surroundings, feeling a sense of relief to be home. He had scarcely reached for the stack of papers on his desk awaiting his attention when there was a soft knock on the door.
"Come in," he called, and Theresa entered, her hands clasped nervously in front of her.
"Sir, I wanted to speak with you about Molly," she began, her voice steady despite her anxiety. "She's been such a help these past weeks, and the girls have grown quite fond of her. She's been working in the stables, but obviously it's not really suitable for a girl, and I was wondering if you might consider allowing her to stay on as my assistant."
Richard leaned back in his chair, eyebrows raised in surprise. He hadn't realised until he returned home just how much responsibility had fallen onto Theresa's capable shoulders while he was away, especially with the housekeeper growing older and slower. The understanding sent a twinge of guilt through him; he should have been more attentive to his household's needs.
"Of course, Theresa," he said, nodding thoughtfully. "If you think that would be best, then I trust your judgement."
"Thank you, sir," she replied, her face lighting up with relief and gratitude.
It was then that Richard truly looked at Theresa – not as his employee, but as a young woman who had become an essential part of his household. She stood before him, glowing with vitality. While she would never be sylph-like, her once softly plump form had firmed, her muscles toned from her daily labours. Her cheeks were rosy, and her brown hair looked glossy and thick.
There was a newfound strength in her eyes, and Richard found himself taken aback by her beauty. It was a quiet, unassuming kind of loveliness, one that he had never noticed before, and it stirred something deep within him.
"Theresa," he said softly, his voice betraying a hint of the emotions swirling inside him. "I want to thank you for everything you've done – not just in my absence, but since you first came to Belle Haven. You've become an invaluable part of our family."
A blush stole across her cheeks, and she ducked her head, unable to meet his gaze. "You're too kind, sir," she murmured, clearly touched by his words.
Richard's eyes lingered on Theresa's glowing visage a moment too long, and he felt an unexpected warmth spread through his chest. He shook his head sharply, chiding himself for entertaining such thoughts. She was his employee, after all, and it was entirely inappropriate to let his mind wander in that direction.
"Very well," Richard said abruptly, his tone betraying a hint of the inner turmoil he sought to suppress. "Molly may stay. And you –" he hesitated, taking a deep breath before continuing, "I want you to hire any additional household help you feel is necessary. I trust your judgement."
Theresa blinked, surprised by his sudden change in demeanour. "Yes, sir," she replied, her voice soft but steady. "Thank you for your confidence in me."
A brief silence fell between them, punctuated only by the distant whinny of a horse from the stables outside. Richard's gaze flitted about the room, landing on anything but Theresa's face – the intricate patterns of the wallpaper, the glass decanters upon the sideboard, the way the firelight cast shadows across the panelled walls.
"Is there anything else you need, sir?" Theresa asked.
"No, no," he said quickly, forcing a smile. "That will be all, Theresa. Thank you."
"Of course, sir," she said, dipping into a curtsy before turning to leave the room.
As he watched her depart, Richard couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of relief and regret. It was for the best, he told himself, that he maintain a proper distance from Theresa. And yet, as the door closed behind her and the room fell silent once more, he couldn't help but feel a pang of longing – for what, he dared not say.