A Claim to Kin

By Patricia Dolling-Mann

Sarah lives in a typical Victorian industrial town. Happy to be starting her Easter holiday from school, her joy is short-lived for, a year after her step-father disappeared without a trace, her mother is tragically killed in a road accident, leaving Sarah and her twin brothers without any means of suppor

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookTrail Publishing
• Release date: Oct 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781637675267

Patricia Dolling-Mann

Patricia Dolling-Mann was born in Northampton and started working at the local newspaper office with a view to becoming a journalist. After a short time she realised her vocation was to nurse. Early retirement from the nursing profession has given her time to fulfil her lifelong ambition to write. After gaining an honor's degree in English Literature with the Open University she has since devoted many hours to writing. A passion for the writings of Thomas Hardy prompted her and her husband to move to Dorset. Although now living in the South East of England, a library of Hardy-related works keeps her in touch with her beloved Wessex.

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Copyright © 2021 Patricia Dolling-Mann

Paperback: 978-1-63767-525-0

eBook: 978-1-63767-526-7

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021920510

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction.

Ordering Information:

BookTrail Agency

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Kansas City, MO 64114

Printed in the United States of America

With special thanks to my husband Gordon who had the original idea for ‘Sarah’

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 1

Clara Mason sat on her low stool working diligently on a delicately embroidered shift. Through the casement window, the light was fading fast and Clara, should she choose to look, would just be able to distinguish the red evening star lighting his lamps. She’d been given strict instructions to finish the special assignment before she retired to her attic room so although loathe to demur for any reason, would very soon need to pause to light a candle. She hummed her favourite hymn tune as she worked, for it was seen to be an honour to have been chosen to make this special garment a bride would wear on her wedding night. Clara blushed as the visual implications of a wedding night came into her mind, although she herself was not even walking out with anyone.

Recently one of the guests had been showing an interest in her and she thought it only a matter of time before he would ask her out. He was a businessman, not from round these parts. No one seemed to know much about him but everyone agreed that he was very handsome and by the clothes he wore was not short of a penny or two. She put down the garment and wandered over to the makeshift mirror which the girls used to set their caps straight. Her reflection gazed back at her and she pulled a face which made her laugh.

‘They’ll lock you away if you’re not careful!’

Clara recognised the voice. ‘How long have you been standing there, Ruby White?’

‘Long enough,’ she laughed. ‘I just came down to see if you needed a hand. I heard Miss Longman tell you to finish that shift before you went to bed. How’s it coming on?’

‘Thank you Rube. It’s going well. I’ve just the hem to do now. I’ll show you.’

Clara picked up the shift and held it next to her. It was far too long but she hitched it up and pirouetted around the room.

Ruby sighed audibly. ‘Don’t you wish it were you, Clara Mason, who is to be wed?’

‘Mm, but I don’t know who would want me. I’ve no admirers as you well know.’

‘What about that gent who was eyeing you up the other day? Would you accept if he asked you?’

Clara knew she was being teased. The gentleman was too good for the likes of her, and Ruby knew that but she decided to play the game with her friend. ‘Why of course. I should be a real lady then, wouldn’t I? Too good for you.’ She laughed to show she wasn’t being serious.

‘You want to be careful, Clara Mason. Men like that are only after one thing and we all know what that is.’

Clara went back to her stool and picked up her needlework. ‘Well, he’s not likely to ask me, is he, so you needn’t worry on that score. Now, if you don’t mind I’ve got work to do.’

The atmosphere had quickly become somewhat sombre so Ruby left her friend to finish her task in peace. She had jested at her friend’s expense but deep down she was worried. Clara, at seventeen, was so pretty and gullible. It would be easy to become involved with such an attractive proposition as one she was likely to receive from the elegant gent. Ruby offered up a silent prayer for her friend. She had seen it happen before. At her last job a young maid had got into trouble with one of the guests and when he found she was with child he had hurriedly left the town never to be heard of again. She shuddered. That poor girl had ended up in the workhouse and now both her and the child were pushing up the daisies. Ruby didn’t want to see that happen to Clara.

Within an hour, Clara had completed her task. Well pleased with her efforts she longed to take it to show the bride-to-be but knew her employers would not approve. She folded the garment carefully and placed it in the wicker basket as she been asked to do. In the morning it would be delivered by personal maid. If Clara heard nothing more then she would know her work had been satisfactory. She stretched and yawned loudly. It had been a long day and she would be very glad to get into her bed.

Closing the door firmly she made her way up the back stairs. If she were lucky she would be able to catch a glimpse of the guests in all their finery, at dinner. As she reached the balcony the smell of fine food reached her nostrils and she felt a gnawing in her stomach. Because she’d had to finish the sewing she’d had a very early meal and was now ravenous. Clara started as she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning round to see who her assailant was she quickly recognised the gentleman guest she’d been thinking about only a short while ago.

‘I’m sorry if I startled you, Miss.’ Clara was amazed that he should address her thus.

‘That’s all right, Sir. Can I help? Are you looking for someone?’

‘As a matter of fact, I was looking for you. I’ve noticed you every time I’ve stayed here and quite frankly I find you damned attractive.’

How bold he was, Clara thought. I suppose his kind think they can say and do as they please, so in spite of feeling flattered she decided she must behave in a ladylike way.

‘I don’t think that’s quite the thing to say to someone you are hardy acquainted with, Sir.’

He had the good grace to look embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry my dear. I didn’t mean to take advantage. The last thing I intended was to upset you. Will you accept my apologies?’ He grinned disarmingly.

He’s certainly very handsome, Clara acknowledged. ‘Of course, Sir. Now if you’ll excuse me.’

‘Look, just to show you’ve forgiven me, how about accompanying me to the little coffee house just around the corner?’ As her expression showed concern he felt bound to add, ‘No funny business. Just a coffee and talk. Now there’s no harm in that, is there?’

In spite of herself, Clara found herself nodding. She was very hungry but she did need to keep her job. ‘I’d like that very much, Sir, but I shouldn’t really be seen out with the guests. You do understand, don’t you?’

‘If that’s the rules, well we must keep to them I suppose. Goodnight my dear.’

‘Goodnight, Sir.’

Clara was thoughtful as she prepared for bed. Was she a fool to have turned down such an offer? Ruby had warned her about such goings on. Never having known her mother, she’d died giving birth to her firstborn, she’d been brought up by a maiden aunt who had seen fit to educate her so that she was able to read, write and sew but taught her nothing about the ways of the world. She was now well able to earn a living and since the aunt had departed this mortal coil just over a year ago, living in at the hotel suited Clara down to the ground. Still, a good marriage would be a triumph for her. She fell asleep and dreamt of living in a huge house in the country with servants and many children. When she woke it was Ruby who was leaning over her, urging her to get dressed, not the lady’s maid of her dreams. One thing was sure though. If he asked her out again, she would take up his offer but she didn’t suppose he would. Gentlemen of his calibre could have their pick and Clara knew she was really no contender.

Crossing the balcony on her way to the sewing room she was surprised to see the gentleman of her dreams talking to the Hall porter. He had a bag in his hand and another by his side. It was patently obvious that he was leaving. Despondent, Clara made her way down the narrow back stairs. Angry with herself for missing such an opportunity she slammed the workroom door which earned her a reprimand from Miss Longman. This was not going to be a good day, she thought.

After a long day, Clara refused Ruby’s offer of her company and retired to her room. She was getting a little tired of working in the sewing room as most of the work was very humdrum and she had realised by working on the night gown that she had a real flair for making quality garments. Perhaps it might be possible to make a living at sewing for the ladies of the town. She had a little money which her kind aunt had left her which would allow her to buy some materials. It was certainly worth thinking about. She pushed the door open and nearly fell over a small parcel which had been left just inside. Curious, she picked it up and examined the cover. It was beautifully wrapped and it seemed a shame to tear it open. Curiosity got the better of her and she unwrapped the gift carefully without doing much harm to the wrapping. Inside there was a small brooch in the shape of a horseshoe. Clara gasped. She didn’t know much about jewellery but from the makers name on the box knew it must have cost a great deal. The multifaceted jewels, set in silver gilt, glittered in the light of the candle flame. There was a note inside which said one word ‘Sorry’. She knew who had left it there. Her heart gave a strange flutter and she hoped beyond hope the gentleman would return.

During the next few days, Clara was constantly reprimanded for her lack of attention to her sewing. ‘Aren’t you feeling well, Clara?’ Ruby asked, not for the first time.

Clara was reluctant to reveal her true feelings to her friend. She knew Ruby would urge her to forget all about the gentleman and to return his gift post haste. ‘Come home with me on Sunday, Clara. Seeing the boys (Ruby had five brothers) will cheer you up.’

‘I’d rather stay here, if you mind Rube. I’ll have a bit of a rest and if it’s fine go for a walk down the meadow.’

‘If that’s what you want, I’ll say no more.’ Ruby was clearly offended by Clara’s rejection but was not the type to hold it against her.

Sunday morning was wet and windy but by the time Clara had rested for an hour after the midday meal, the sun was trying hard to put on a brave face and Clara felt they had much in common. It was early June and fairly warm so she donned her best black lace cape and set off for Midsummer meadow. The hotel boasted a prime position in the centre of the thriving little market town but it was only a short walk to the outlying meadows. Clara crossed the market square and headed for Derngate street. She’d thought a lot about her new venture and the more she thought, the more attractive the idea seemed. She had a few contacts, people she knew through her aunt and a few more whom she’d met whilst working at the hotel. She smiled, pleased at her own initiative. The only fly in the ointment might be her landlady. who was a bit of a battleaxe. If Clara could assure her she would be happy to pay more rent, she was sure Mrs Fairfax would agree. Crossing the road, her head full of thoughts about her new venture she failed to notice one of the old style hackney cabs bearing down on her and only just managed to avoid being run down.

The cab stopped and a head appeared from the window. ‘Why don’t you…’ The voice stopped abruptly. Simultaneously, Clara started to apologise, ‘I’m so sorry…’

They both laughed.

He opened the door and held out his hand. ‘Come and join me,’ he invited.

Clara took his arm and he helped her into the carriage. ‘I really shouldn’t you know.’

‘Don’t worry, my dear. I’m sure no one saw you and what the eye doesn’t see and all that.’

In spite of herself, Clara smiled. ‘Where are we going?’

‘Well, where were you going?’

‘I was just off to the meadow for a walk.’

‘That’s where we’ll go then.’

‘I’d rather not, Sir, if you don’t mind. My friends often go there on a Sunday afternoon and someone would be sure to spot us.’

By this time they had caused a minor traffic jam in the middle of the square so the gentleman leaned out of the carriage and instructed the driver to take them to a park. ‘The one at the other end of town, if you please.’

‘You mean Abington Park, Sir?’

‘Yes, that will do. Just get a move on, man.’

The driver touched his cap respectfully and whipped up the horse. In no time at all they were weaving in and out of the crowded thoroughfare and into the main street which led eastwards towards the leafy suburbs of Abington. Soon the serried ranks of terraced houses were well behind them and in their place large imposing residences belonging to the wealthy citizens of the borough came into view. Clara didn’t know this part of the town having lived in the bustling centre all of her life and her eyes grew round at the sight of such unashamed affluence. Noticing her reaction a plan began to form in the gentleman’s mind. It was plain to see how much his companion was overwhelmed by the surroundings and he meant to use it to his advantage.

‘The residences are superior to the town centre dwellings, are they not?’

‘Oh, very much so, Sir. How wonderful it would be live in such a place.’

‘Indeed!’

As they approached the park the strident sounds of a brass band reached their ears. They looked at each other and laughed. ‘Shall we stroll in the lower park, first? They walked slowly down the slope which led to the wide lake. Entire families were enjoying their outing dressed all in their Sunday best. Some paused briefly to admire the view, some fed the ducks giving rise to shouts of glee from the children, and some simply strode along as if to fill their lungs with the good fresh air.

The couple walked along the edge of the lake until they found a wooden seat to rest upon. Clara’s cheeks were glowing pink from the unaccustomed fresh air and she looked even more attractive than usual. Her companion longed to tell her this but was afraid he might embarrass her so remained silent until Clara reminded him that they hadn’t been formally introduced. ‘I know you would have signed the guest book but I haven’t seen it so I don’t even know your name.’

‘Then let me introduce myself. I am Ambrose Pearce and I hale from the West Country. Will that do for now?’ he laughed.

‘Yes, sir. You know I’m Clara for you have addressed me as such. I am Clara Mason, spinster and I am a seamstress at the Angel Hotel.’

Clara hadn’t told him anything he didn’t already know. He’d made it his business to find out as soon as he found he was attracted to her. He held out his hand. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you Miss Mason.’ They shook hands formally and then laughed. In spite of their brief acquaintance Clara felt completely at ease with the man.

‘Perhaps you’d like to tell more about yourself?’ he invited.

At first Clara was reticent and told him only of her childhood with her aunt and how she’d died the year before and that was why she’d taken the job at the hotel.

‘And are you happy there?’ he asked.

Clara wasn’t sure how to answer that. She wasn’t unhappy but felt she could do so much better. As he seemed genuinely interested she tried to explain her plans.

‘So, you mean to start your own little business? If you don’t mind me asking, have you the means? You’ll need a tidy sum to acquire equipment.’

The next hour sped by and it wasn’t until they noticed the crowds had virtually disappeared that Clara realised it must be way past the time she should have returned. She jumped up. ‘I really must go now. If I’m not at church I’ll be in trouble with Miss Longman.’

Mr Pearce took out his half hunter. ‘Upon my word, it is nearly six o’clock. Where has the time gone? Come my dear. We will walk up to the main thoroughfare. I told the cab driver to return at five thirty and wait for us. If we hurry we will be back in time for the service.’

They hurried up the incline and sure enough, the cab awaited them. Clara breathed a huge sigh of relief. She would have had a lot of explaining to do if she’d been late. As it was she would be able to keep her liaison a secret.

As he handed her out of the cab, a short distance from All Saints Church, he asked, ‘Would you join me for supper after the service, Miss Mason?’

‘As long as it is far enough away from the Angel, Mr Pearce, I’d be delighted.’

‘I’ll make sure it is, have no fear,’ he assured her.

Throughout the service Clara’s mind kept drifting back to the afternoon in the park and Ambrose Pearce. She still knew very little about the man but she knew she was falling head over heels in love with him. In spite of Ruby’s warnings, caution appeared to have taken flight. He was so kind and such a good listener, rare in a man, she felt, although she had little experience. He’d even been interested in her idea of working for herself. One thing bothered her a little. Why was a gentleman of his wealth and experience interested in her, a mere seamstress? Next time they met she would pluck up the courage to ask.

The supper room was crowded but after a cursory look round Clara was satisfied she knew no one there. The food was plain but well prepared and they both did justice to the meal. Once replete they sat back to enjoy the music, a trio of musicians playing light classical music.

‘Mr Pearce, may I ask you something?’

‘Certainly, Clara.’

‘A gentleman like yourself must have the pick of beautiful ladies to entertain. If you don’t think it impertinent, why did you choose me?’

He laughed out loud, causing a few heads to turn in their direction. Clara felt her cheeks burning and she began to wish she’d said nothing. He thought how wonderfully naïve she was but felt she deserved an honest answer. ‘If you’ve finished your meal, my dear, perhaps we could take a stroll and I will do my utmost to explain.’

They left the supper rooms and strolled down Bridge Street until they reached the river. At the riverside the moon appeared as a ghostly galleon sailing on the coal-black water and the stars glittering above them creating a canopy of celestial fire.

He turned to face her. ‘Now Miss Mason, I’ll try to explain. Although this will sound trite, please believe me for it is true. From the moment I saw you I fell in love with you.’ When she tried to protest he held up his hand. ‘Please let me go on?’ She nodded. ‘I have never felt like this before. At first I couldn’t believe it myself but after several meetings I knew I would have to say something. I know we come from very different backgrounds but I am a man of the world and I believe we can overcome such differences. I only hope you can come to feel as I do. Please don’t answer immediately. I know this must be something of a shock to you. Think about it, Miss Mason, that’s all I ask.’

Clara couldn’t really believe what she was hearing. That a gentleman such as Mr Pearce was interested in her was surprising but to declare his love at such short notice was beyond her wildest dreams. She decided to err on the side of caution, however, and agree to think about it. She would dearly liked to have asked her aunt for her opinion, Ruby would never understand. Her companion stood patiently waiting for her response.

‘I’m flattered, Mr Pearce, really I am but I think we should perhaps get to know one another a little better, don’t you?’ Her voice wavered a little, her uncertainty self-evident.

‘Of course, my dear.’ He took her arm gently and they made their way slowly back home. Clara had much to think about but already she was sure what her answer would be.

Chapter 2

In the three months that followed, Clara and Ambrose became the talk of the hotel. As expected, as soon as it was discovered that she was hob-nobbing with one of the guests, Clara was asked to leave although Miss Longman was sorry to see her best seamstress go. She promised to put in a good word for her to some of the hotel clients. This suited Clara’s plan as she had all but arranged with her landlady to work at her rooms.

Ambrose however had a better plan. As he escorted her back to her rooms after supper one balmy evening in late August he announced he was going away for a while but wished to do something for her before he left.

‘I know you are a very busy man, Ambrose, and that you have to travel a great deal. I accept that. Please don’t think you have need to do anything more than you have all ready done.’

‘Please Clara, you know how much I love you and there is something I wish to do and I hope you won’t turn me down.’

Clara’s heart missed a beat and she felt breathless. Surely he wasn’t going to propose to her. ‘Please do go on, Ambrose?’ she asked expectantly.

‘Very well.’ They were just passing the church so Ambrose took her arm and led her to the front portico where they could sit undisturbed. ‘You know I have been looking for a business interest in this area?’ She nodded. ‘I think I may have found what I’m looking for. As I haven’t yet reached a final decision I’m not in a position to divulge any details, you understand?’ Clara nodded again wondering how long it would be before he got to the point of this speech. ‘It would suit me very well to find a property to rent in the town. The hotel is pleasant enough but now you and I are, well, you know, fond of each other I think we need somewhere to be alone.’

Clara wouldn’t have put it quite like that as by now she had become besotted with her fine gentleman. Suddenly the penny dropped. He wasn’t proposing marriage at all. He simply wanted her to be his mistress. She blushed near crimson at the thought. ‘I’m sorry Ambrose. I cannot do what I think you are asking. The only time I will live with a man is when I have his ring on my finger.’

Ambrose was taken by surprise. He longed to remind her that she was nothing more than a simple seamstress whereas he came from a much higher order. He held his tongue for a moment then spoke again in a more gentle tone. ‘Clara my dear, this has come as something of a surprise to you. I beg you to think about it. Don’t give me your answer now. At least sleep on it and we’ll talk tomorrow. I already have a property in mind and have made all the necessary arrangements. I rather assumed you would say yes,’ he added lamely.

‘Very well, Ambrose. I will think about it but I’m really not that kind of woman.’ She was adamant and Ambrose began to realise this might not be as easy as he thought. He took her hand and led her down the steps of the church. He needed to be back in the West Country at least the day after tomorrow. Blast the woman! How could she pass up such an opportunity? She’d never get a better offer, he thought, but refrained from speaking his thoughts out loud.

When Clara reached the confines of her dingy little room she thought about what Ambrose had proposed. Proposed - if only he had, she thought sadly. She would have been overjoyed at the prospect of being married to her lover. As she pondered life as it might have been a sudden thought occurred to her. If he loved her as much as she loved him, he would be glad to put a ring on her finger. When they met on the morrow she would suggest it. Yes, she might be thought of as very forward but it was better than being a kept mistress, wasn’t it? With the decision made Clara slept as soundly as the proverbial log.

They had arranged to meet at Ambrose’s hotel as he no longer used the Angel. The Grand was in some ways superior to the Angel but as it was not a coaching inn was not quite so busy. He was waiting for her when she arrived in the lobby and he rose to greet her as she entered through the ornate entrance doors. She could sense he was impatient to know her answer but at the last minute her nerve failed her and she knew she could never be the one to ask him to marry her. What ever had come over her the previous evening had now deserted her and she felt it was up to him to mention marriage if that was what he wanted.

He greeted her with flattery albeit sincere. ‘You look absolutely delightful my dear. That blue organza flatters your dark hair so very well.’ He searched her face to see whether he could detect the prospect of an answer in the affirmative. Clara was giving nothing away. She would wait until he brought up the subject.

Nothing was said until half way through the meal. He refilled her goblet and looked into her eyes. ‘Have you decided yet, my dear Clara? You know I must leave for the West Country in the morning.’

‘Yes, Ambrose, I have made up my mind.’ He looked so hopeful she very nearly gave in to him.

‘Well, what have you decided?’ He reached across the table and took her hand in his. ‘I couldn’t bear it if you refuse me.’

Clara looked him in the eye. ‘I’m sorry Ambrose but I cannot do as you ask. I was brought up by an Aunt who taught me right from wrong. I feel I would be letting her down completely if I did as you ask. I must repeat what I told you yesterday. The only way I will ever live with a man is when I am wearing his ring; then it is right in the eyes of God and the world.’

He could see she had made up her mind and no material offering would make her change it. He thought quickly. ‘Very well, Clara.’ He hesitated slightly. ‘Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

‘Oh Ambrose, of course I will.’ Clara couldn’t believe how well everything had turned out. She hadn’t had need to belittle herself. Oh, life was wonderful indeed. How lucky she was.

Before he left the next day he took his betrothed to the house where they would live. It had been built towards the end of the previous century and was so pretty Clara thought she must faint with joy. The roof had been newly thatched and the spacious garden laid out formally with shrubs and lawn. Around the door was a magnificent climbing rose whose invisible perfume hit the senses as one passed by. Later Clara was to find out it was called Zepherine Drouhin but today it was simply a beautiful flower without a thorn.

Inside the large cottage had been furnished with comfortable good taste, mainly furniture of the Georgian period. ‘If there is anything you would like to change, Clara, I’m sure the landlord will be quite happy to allow it.’

Clara couldn’t help comparing the interior with that of the two rooms she now lived in. It was light and bright and would be perfect for her new sewing venture.

‘Ambrose, it is delightful. I don’t want to change anything.’ Clara jumped up and down like a child on a Christmas morn. Ambrose was reminded of how much younger she was than he. He was nearly old enough to be her father.

‘Then why don’t you move in immediately, Clara. The woman who looks after the cottage for the landlord will continue to do so, or so he assures me.