CHAPTER 14

The ride back home seemed to take less time than the journey to the town. Hannah sat beside me with her head propped on my shoulder, asleep. We had the coach to ourselves after two gentlemen got off at the little town a few miles back. I felt a little guilty as I watched her. I hadn't expected helping her would pique my curiosity about my past.

As the familiar streets came into view, I felt a pang of something like homesickness. Funny, that. I'd never been one for sentimentality, but after all the grand hotels and fine carriages, the sight of the cramped houses and narrow alleys was almost a comfort. This was my world, grime and all.

"Hannah, Hannah, we're almost there," I said, gently tapping her shoulder.

"Did I fall asleep?" She sat upright. "Sorry, I seem to have turned you into a pillow."

The carriage clattered to a halt outside the manor. I hopped down and held out a hand to help Hannah. With our feet on firm ground, we watched together as the carriage went on its way.

"Miss Hannah."

We both turned to see a young girl dressed in a maid's uniform hurrying towards us. Her head looked back and forth as if she'd stolen a biscuit that wasn't hers.

"What's wrong Kitty?"

"It's Lady Catherine. She sent word by messenger. She plans to return to Frogmere by tomorrow nightfall. You had me worried she'd return and you'd be nowhere in sight."

"Luck appears to be favouring me at the moment. I need to refresh myself, Kitty." Hannah stepped towards the front of the manor.

"Oh no, don't go that way. Housekeeper is on a bit of hunt. She's been complaining about you not giving notice you were staying a few days with Miss Mildred."

"You lied to her?"

Kitty looked at the stones that made up the path in front of the house. "You're not mad at me, are you? Oh, please say you're not. It's just that she started asking questions and when she found out you'd gone and went in a carriage with a man, well, Miss Mildred came to mind since her brother is here with the militia."

"You know I don't condone lying, but on this occasion, I say: job well done. Take my bag to my room and unlock the door to the conservatory so I can sneak in undetected."

"Yes, Miss." Kitty picked up the travelling bag and scurried away from us, following the wall of the manor until she disappeared from view.

"John," she said, her voice low and urgent. "I need your help with something else."

I raised an eyebrow. "Another rescue mission? Should I fetch something better to swim in?"

That coaxed a small smile from her. There and gone in a flash. "No, nothing like that. I need…I need to get into that locked room. The one my mother forbade me from entering. If I'd seen anything years ago, it meant nothing then, but I do remember some papers in his desk."

I frowned. Breaking into locked rooms in grand manor houses wasn't exactly something I wanted to get caught doing. On the other hand, I couldn't bear the thought of disappointing her.

"Alright," I said. "We'll figure something out. But I need to check on my ma first, let her know I'm back."

Hannah nodded, relief washing over her features. "Of course. Meet me back here tonight? About midnight, when the household is asleep."

I tipped an imaginary hat. "As my lady commands."

She swatted at me, but a real smile played about her lips this time. I watched as she disappeared down the same path Kitty had gone before turning my steps towards home.

The streets grew narrower and more crowded as I walked, the grand houses giving way to tenements and shops. Kids darted between the stalls, their quick fingers snatching apples and bits of bread when the sellers weren't looking. I couldn't bring myself to care much. A child's got to eat, and those with full bellies can afford a bit of charity, whether they know they're giving it or not.

My feet traced the familiar path to our door, almost of their own accord. Funny how your body remembers, even when your mind's a thousand miles away. I raised a hand to knock, then thought better of it and just pushed inside.

It was Millie I saw first. She looked my way and smiled before coughing. Ma sat in her chair beside her, a blanket wrapped around her as she stared at the small fire. As I crossed the room, she looked up and a smile spread across her face.

"Johnny!" I moved to her and pulled her into a hug. "You're back! My look at those fine clothes."

"Enough to turn any young ladies' head I say," Millie said. "Seriously, John, you look like a right gentleman dressed up like that."

"They're only borrowed."

"Still, what would the boys at the mill say if they saw you? I reckon if I had a fancy dress, even I could pass for a lady of good breeding." She raised a handkerchief to her mouth as she bent over, her body rocking as she tried to clear her lungs. "You staying then, John?"

I nodded. "I am."

"I best get home then, before it's dark. Be nice to spend the night in my own bed." She walked over to Ma and kissed her on the cheek. "You take care, Mrs Ingham, I'll bring over those dried flowers when they're done."

"Thank you, Millie."

With a final smile Millie turned and headed for home.

"Johnny, you must tell me all about what you and that fine lady were up to," Ma said.

I wearily sat down in the chair and untied the boots. My feet ached from the tight leather. "Interesting seeing how the other half lives."

"Interesting, he says." She sat back, looking me over with that look mothers give. "As if traipsing off with a lady is something you do every day."

"I like her Ma."

"She's a lady, Johnny. A lady that will find a man with a nice little income," Ma said.

"What if she didn't mind? Didn't mind that I worked at the mill?"

"Would marrying her be what's best for her? Not always about what you want, Johnny. Sometimes we let things pass because something else is waiting." The crackling of the fire replaced words for a moment. "I saw the way she looked at you. What you feel isn't just you. Just be careful. Messing with them has made a fool out of more than a few of our kind."

"Ma, listen…" I took a breath, trying to order my scattered thoughts. "I never asked before because I really didn't have a thought to know. About me coming to you. I know you've always said I was left on the doorstep, but…was there more to it than that?"

Her hands stilled from adjusting the blanket over her knees. The shaking seemed more noticeable as she looked over at me. "What makes you ask about that? You've barely walked through the door."

I shrugged. "Just…something Hannah said and a story we heard. Secrets and things. Got me thinking about my own, I suppose."

Ma sighed. She suddenly looked very old and very tired. "I wondered if this day would come. Pa used to say it would. He knew you so well." She reached out, taking my roughened hand in hers. "Johnny…Pa and I, we told you what we thought you needed at the time, but we weren't entirely honest with you."

My heart thudded heavy in my chest.

"Tell me now then," I said simply.

"You're not a doorstep baby for one thing," she began. "That part I said to guard my tongue and to keep you from harm. You came to me from an old friend. I knew her some years back. We had a bond then, closer than sisters as piecers over at Milton. When she came to me that night, with you all bundled in her arms, I couldn't turn her away."

"What did she say?" I asked, my voice sounding hoarse to my own ears.

"Not much," Ma admitted. "Just that you needed a home. Said your parents were gone. Pa and I never had our own. One of us, or maybe both of us, didn't work right in that way." Her hand tightened on mine. "Johnny, I was getting on even back then when you came, but looking at you wrapped in the blanket. Well, it wiped a good twenty years off me."

I swallowed hard. "Were you told anything more? A name or anything? Was John my name?"

Ma shook her head. "The woman didn't say much. Didn't have a name she knew, so we called you John after Pa. She did give me an envelope." She released my hand and stood, joints creaking. Crossing to the old bureau with the legs I'd repaired at least four times that leaned against the wall in the far corner. I watched as she rummaged in the back of a drawer before pulling out a yellowed envelope.

"Here," she said, pressing it into my hands. "I never opened it, so I got no idea what's in there. I don't suppose it would have mattered if it's writing or such. It's yours, Johnny. Yours to do with as you will."

I stared down at the envelope. There was no writing on the front or back, but there was a wax seal. I peered at it in the low light of the room but couldn't work out the details. Part of me wanted to tear it open right then and there, but I couldn't. The way Ma looked at me, I just couldn't. Whatever the envelope contained had been sealed away for twenty years. Another few hours wouldn't make a difference.

"Thank you, Ma," I said instead, tucking the envelope into my pocket. "For telling me. And for…for giving me a family."

Her eyes shone wet in the firelight. "Pa and I did our best by you, Johnny. I hope you know that."

I nodded. "I do, Ma. I do."

She seemed relieved as she shuffled back to her chair. I helped cover her with the blanket, breathing in the familiar scent of wool and wood-smoke.

We sat and talked, of small things and past times. I helped her with the mending and she heated some stew, filling the small room with the rich scent of onions and barley. For a moment, it was as if I'd never left, as if the past few days were nothing more than a strange, fevered dream.

But as the hours crept on and the sky outside the small window turned from grey to black, I knew it was time. I stood, stretching the kinks from my back.

"I've got to go out again tonight, Ma," I said. "There's something I need to do."

"But it's dark out. You be careful, Johnny. And remember…" She tapped a finger over her heart. "This is where you come from. This is who you are. No matter what, you're my boy, and that's the beginning and end of it."

I blinked back the sudden sting of tears. "I know, Ma. I know."

She went to bed soon after. I must have dozed off in the chair as I woke up with a start. When I looked out the window, the street stood empty. Even the sky seemed devoid of clouds tonight. I retrieved a change of my own clothes from my room before grabbing the tool Pa would use to pop open crates.

And with that, I slipped out into the night.