‘The girl is back,’ Mary said flatly. ‘She came in with Matthew a few moments ago and he insisted on taking her into the drawing room for tea and cake.’
Jeremiah nodded without commenting. He might have known it would have to be something to do with Sophy for Mary to willingly come into his presence. That his wife hated him, he had no doubt. She had told him so often enough in the last six years since he had sent the girls away to school. But he was also in no doubt that she hated Sophy more, and he had to admit he didn’t understand this. The day she had nearly killed the girl – it had been touch and go for a time and he had suffered the torments of the damned wondering if the child was going to pull through – he had realised there was a sickness in Mary. There were many times he had wished, and still did, that things were different and that Esther had never come home to have the child, since this in one way or another had been the bane of his life. That apart, he couldn’t see why Mary was so against his sister’s child. Women were supposed to be the softer of the sexes, weren’t they? And Sophy had displayed none of the badness which had been in her mother. It was unfortunate she looked like she did, admittedly – such beauty in a woman always caused problems in his experience – but it would doubtless be an asset in getting her married off early.
‘Did you hear what I said?’ Mary’s cold flecked eyes were fixed on him and he saw now she was upset about something or other by the patch of colour in each cheek.
‘You said Sophy was home.’
Mary drew in a thin breath. ‘I said –’ she stressed the last word as one might do when talking to a recalcitrant child or a dimwit – ‘Matthew brought her home and the two of them are in the drawing room.’
Jeremiah was genuinely puzzled. ‘What of it?’
‘Oh, give me strength.’ Her cool manner gone, she glared at him. ‘Isn’t it bad enough that you had no idea of John’s behaviour until one of my friends had to alert us to the fact he was consorting with a common miner’s daughter?’
Jeremiah was beginning to lose patience. His sermon wasn’t going well; he’d had indigestion from the amount of fat in the cold pork Mrs Hogarth – who wasn’t a patch on Kitty – had served for lunch; he’d heard of nothing but John and this girl, Flora, for weeks from Mary, and now she was playing guessing games. ‘If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise kindly leave me in peace until it is time for dinner,’ he said through partially clenched teeth.
‘The girl and Matthew. Can’t you see what’s under your nose without me having to spell it out?’
‘What?’ She had his attention now. Jeremiah sat bolt upright, staring at her. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous, they’re first cousins.’
‘And that would stop her, would it? The daughter of a whore with her mother’s blood running through her veins?’
‘Don’t talk like that. Esther was my sister.’
‘Oh, I know Esther was your sister, Jeremiah. If anyone knows that, I do. And we both know what she was, besides which, as you are well aware from dealing with your parishioners, there is many a girl given a child by her father or brother, let alone a cousin.’
Jeremiah went white. ‘You’re saying Sophy is expecting Matthew’s baby?’
Mary shut her eyes for a moment. Was he being deliberately stupid just to annoy her? ‘Of course not. Would I be standing here talking to you so calmly if that were the case? But there is something between the two of them, I know it, and it needs to be nipped in the bud. What are you going to do about it?’
Jeremiah had relaxed back in his chair as though all the air had left his body, which was exactly how he felt. For a moment he had thought— He shut his mind to what he had thought and looked at his wife. ‘Are you sure about this?’ he asked weakly. ‘That they have those sort of feelings for each other?’
‘Of course I am sure,’ Mary bit out. ‘And I hold you responsible in part, Jeremiah. If you hadn’t insisted on educating the girl above her station, giving her ideas, she wouldn’t have dared to make cow’s eyes at Matthew; she wouldn’t even have been here now. She could have been put into service at thirteen and off our hands a long time ago. But no, you had to have your way and send Patience and the girl away to school, an expense we could ill-afford.’
‘You know exactly why it was necessary to get Sophy out of this house, so don’t give me any of that. Your behaviour that day was inexcusable and could have had repercussions which would have destroyed us both. I had no alternative but to make sure it didn’t happen again.’
Mary flicked her hand scornfully. ‘A little discipline never hurt anyone. Spare the rod and spoil the child.’