Madeleine's Enterprise

By Roberta Grieve

Madeleine Shaw is desperate - desperate enough to pawn the precious locket left to her by her beloved grandmother. Her father has died suddenly leaving enormous debts and his former business partner, Ralph Newman, is demanding payment. If she marries him the debt will be wiped out – a perfect solution thinks her ailing mother. But Madeleine will not marry for money. Besides, she has fallen in love with Naval Lieutenant Stephen Harker, a friend of her late brother, who rescues her from a would-be thief.

However, Stephen will be off to sea again soon and Madeleine determines to put him out of her mind and concentrate on solving her family’s financial problems. Women in the early 20th century were not supposed to start up their own business – that was men’s work. But Madeleine will not let anything stand in the way of her enterprise.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BWL Publishing Inc.
• Release date: Oct 7, 2018
• ISBN: 9780228605737

Roberta Grieve

After 22 years of handling other people’s books while working as a library assistant, Roberta Grieve decided it was time to fulfil a long-held ambition and starting writing her own. On taking early retirement she began writing short stories and magazine articles with some success. She then turned to novels and her first, ‘Abigail’s Secret’, was published in 2008. Since then she has had seven more historical romances published as well as eight short novels published as large print paperbacks.Roberta lives in a small village near Chichester, Sussex, and when not writing enjoys walking her son’s dog.

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Madeleine’s Enterprise

By Roberta Grieve

Digital ISBNs

EPUB 978-0-2286-0573-7

Kindle 978-0-2286-0574-4

Print ISBNs

BWL Print 978-0-2286-0575-1

Amazon Print 978-0-2286-0576-8

Copyright 2019 by Roberta Grieve

Cover art by Michelle Lee

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book

Dedication

To my dear sister Jean who gave me the idea for this book and sadly is no longer with us. Also to Roger Betts and the members of the Sheppey History Facebook Group who helped me to get my facts right. Any errors are mine and mine alone.

Chapter One

The hammering grew louder, more insistent, rattling the heavy oak door in its frame. Madeleine shrank back into the shadows of the hall, hoping she could not be seen through the stained glass panels on either side.

Is it him again, Miss Maddie? the frightened whisper came in her ear and Tilly’s hand clutched at her shoulder.

Another thunderous attack on the door, this time accompanied by angry curses. I will have my money, Miss Shaw, even if I have to send in the bailiffs.

Madeleine’s stomach churned – the bailiffs, the ultimate disgrace in their respectable neighbourhood. What was she to do? Could she reason with him? But tears and pleas would not move him. Ralph Newman was a hard man. As her father’s business partner he had always been polite in his dealings with the family. But that had all changed with Father’s death a year ago. As Madeleine had learned in recent months, owing money changed things.

Still, perhaps she’d have one more try – remind him of his friendship with Father. But as she moved to open the door Tilly grabbed her arm. Oh, please, don’t let him in. He scares me. Her old nurse’s face was parchment, her eyes huge in the thin face.

He scares me too, Madeleine thought, but she dared not let her terror show. Tilly was already in such a state. It wouldn’t do for both of them to go to pieces.

Tilly, run upstairs and make sure Mother’s all right. All this noise will be giving her palpitations.

I’m not leaving you alone to face that man, Tilly declared, putting on a brave face.

Don’t worry, I’m not afraid of him, Madeleine said, squaring her shoulders and pushing the older woman towards the stairs. Go on.

As Tilly slowly mounted the stairs, looking back anxiously over her shoulder, Madeleine swallowed the dry lump in her throat. She was afraid. If only Patrick were here, she thought, as tears threatened to overwhelm her. But her brother would never come home again. He had been killed just over a year ago in the effort to relieve the besieged town of Ladysmith in South Africa. The brave men of the Naval Brigade had saved the day. HMS Sybille was the only ship lost during the action and Patrick had been among the casualties.

Madeleine brushed her hand across her eyes, squared her shoulders and called out in a steady voice, You will have your money, Mr Newman. I promise.

Well, open the door then and hand it over.

You know I can’t pay you yet. You must give me more time.

I’ve given you enough time already. I will call again tomorrow and if you don’t pay me then, well… The front door shuddered as he gave it a vicious kick.

Madeleine listened tensely as the sound of his footsteps receded along the gravel drive, letting out her breath as the wrought iron gate clanged shut behind him.

She turned to see that Tilly had come downstairs and was clutching the newel post. Has he really gone? she whispered.

Yes, but he’ll be back I fear. She sighed. Is Mother all right?

The noise woke her but I told her it was a crowd of sailors just off the boats passing by. Tilly bit her lip. I shouldn’t have mentioned sailors – it set her off crying over Master Patrick again.

She can’t accept that he’s gone. First my brother, then Father… No wonder she’s like she is.

Well, she’s always been poorly. It’s hard for her.

Hard for me too, Madeleine thought. Before she could reply, Tilly said, She seems calmer now. I gave her a dose of her medicine.

Poor Mother. How much longer can I keep pretending that things are all right? She really doesn’t understand how bad things are.

Forgive me, Miss Madeleine, but she’ll have to know sometime. You can’t protect her forever.

I know, but she’s not getting any better and I don’t want her more upset than she is already.

What are we going to do now? Tilly asked with a frightened glance at the front door, as if she expected Ralph Newman to return with more threats.

I’ll think of something, Madeleine said, but her voice lacked conviction. What could she do? Most of her jewellery, as well as the delicate porcelain figures on the mantelpiece and the silver dishes and vases which had graced the sideboard for as long as she could remember, had been sold long since to cover her father’s mounting debts. He had managed to keep the worst of their financial difficulties from her, promising that better times were on the horizon.

Although for months before his death they had been living a hand to mouth existence, it was only after his sudden fatal heart attack that the true extent of their troubles had been forced upon her. Since then, many of their valuable possessions had been sold, leaving only the bare essentials of furniture.

I do miss Patrick so. He would know what to do, she said. I can’t believe it’s been almost two years since… She broke off. It was no use crying about it. Besides, they wouldn’t be in this fix if he had done as their father wished and followed him into the family business.

After Patrick had joined the Navy, Madeleine had pleaded with her father to let her become involved in the business but he said it was men’s work and she dared not argue with him.

She had grown up never having to think about money. New gowns and jewellery appeared almost by magic. James Shaw had denied his wife and daughter nothing and Madeleine had never questioned where their wealth came from. Now she realised that he had spent money just to keep up appearances, his last extravagance the installation of gas lighting throughout the house. He had boasted proudly that Creek View was the first to have such a luxury, doing away with the smelly oil lamps and candles.

Their fortunes had all changed several years ago, although Madeleine had not been aware of the trouble her father was in. Unable to see a way out of his troubles he had taken to solitary drinking sessions in the privacy of his study. And things had got worse when Patrick had refused to follow Father into the business, instead fulfilling his long-held dream of joining the Royal Navy. He had done well, captain of his own ship at a very young age. But only a few months after his promotion the ship had been deployed to South Africa and that fateful encounter with the Boers.

Grief-stricken, Father had begun to drink even more. When Madeleine plucked up courage to ask why he was neglecting his business, he had confessed that he had lost out on a naval contract and had fallen into debt. Don’t worry. It’s only a temporary difficulty. I have other business interests besides the navy, my dear.

His other business interests had involved Ralph Newman and that, Madeleine was beginning to realise, was the cause of their troubles.

Ada Shaw, already confined to her room most of the time, had been too taken up with her grief for her son to realise what was happening and James had forbidden Madeleine to speak of it to her.

We mustn’t worry her, he had said, and Madeleine readily agreed.

For as long as she could remember her mother had been poorly. Nothing must be allowed to upset her in case it brought on one of her ‘attacks’. But she had got worse since Patrick and Father had died, becoming vague and forgetful. As a child, Madeleine had seen little of her mother and her care had been left to Tilly, who had been Ada’s nurse and then on her marriage, her personal maid.

After long service with the Shaws, Tilly had come to regard them as her own family and she was devoted to Madeleine. Now that they were almost destitute, she had stayed when the other servants, seeing how things were going, had deserted them. Over the last few months they had become more friends than mistress and servant.

Tilly had begun to cry. What will become of us, Miss Maddie? There’s little else left to sell.

Madeleine put her arm round the older woman and led her through to the kitchen, the only warm room in the house – and the only one that still held its original furniture. Most of the good stuff was gone, only the most essential items remaining. And for how much longer, Madeleine asked herself.

Don’t cry, Tilly. I will not see you homeless. We will survive somehow. Brave words, she thought. Tilly was right. What could she do?

She made a pot of tea, re-using the tea leaves from breakfast. Take some up to Mother. She may have woken by now. If she becomes agitated, give her some more of her tonic.

Very well, Miss.

Alone in the kitchen, Madeleine fingered the gold locket encrusted with rubies which hung around her neck on a delicate chain. It was a gift from her late grandmother. She couldn’t sell it – Mother would never forgive her if she parted with the valuable family heirloom. But the only other things of value left were the pony and trap and the grandfather clock which stood in the hall. Selling either of these would let everyone know how low they had fallen. When she opened the door to visitors, they rarely got further than the spacious entrance with its sweeping staircase and the clock, standing proudly to the side. No one could tell that most of the rooms were almost empty, everything of value long gone. The locals were used to seeing her out and about visiting friends in the pony and trap. And when she drove through Queenborough High Street, Madeleine could hold her head high. She didn’t care for herself, but Mother would never overcome the stigma.

With a sigh, she made the decision. The locket would have to go. But she would pawn it, not sell it, although she knew there was little hope of ever redeeming it. Hopefully, the pawnbroker would give her enough to keep Ralph Newman happy for a while longer. But that would only be a brief respite and what would they do then? She just hoped that her mother never noticed its absence.

When Tilly returned with the tray, she finished her own tea and stood up. I’m going out for a while, Tilly.

That man won’t come back, will he? I’m so frightened.

He won’t – he’s given me till tomorrow. But lock the doors after me.

Chapter Two

Madeleine dressed soberly and covered her gown with a shawl. Opening the heavy front door, she glanced cautiously up and down the road before venturing outside. At the front gate she stopped and looked back at the house. Creek View was a fine red brick mansion with a heavy oak door and white-painted sash windows arranged symmetrically on either side. The original timbered house had been altered and added to over the hundreds of years it had been in her family To the side was a small orchard and behind that the kitchen garden, both now very neglected, Madeleine noticed. She regretted having to dismiss the gardener along with their other servants but it could not be helped. The stables, barn and other outbuildings were also showing signs of neglect and, with a sigh, she turned away and started down the long High Street towards the waterfront.

She could not imagine living anywhere else but it seemed she might have to. If it were not for her mother she would be quite happy with a little cottage down by the creek - somewhere small and cheap to run. It would suit her and Tilly. Mother would have hysterics at the mere thought. But how to convince her that the alternative would be incarceration in the workhouse which stood at the top of the hill on the other side of the island? And that’s where they were likely to end up.

With an effort Madeleine cast off the grim thoughts and hurried down the wide main street. Passing the ancient Guildhall and the church, she reached the hard where barges and schooners moored to load and unload their cargoes. Clustered around the hard, where the creek met the sea, were a couple of public houses, a few shops and the pawnbrokers. Madeleine had seldom ventured down here in recent years. When she was a child, Tilly had often walked here with her to see the ships come in and watch her father’s goods being unloaded. Father had been a ship’s chandler supplying goods to the Royal Navy.

A cool autumn breeze had sprung up and the sky was turning red, pink and orange and she stood for a few moments enjoying the view. She loved living here on Sheppey, although it felt less like an island since the bridge connecting to the mainland had been built. Offshore, several naval vessels were anchored and beyond them she could see the gas works and the Royal Dockyard at Sheerness to the north. The sight of the ships brought a lump to her throat as she recalled being taken on board her brother’s ship just before he had sailed on that fateful mission to South Africa.

She brushed her hand across her eyes and, breathing a sigh of relief that it was still open, hastened her steps towards the pawnshop. She paused with her hand on the door, reluctant at the last minute to do what she knew she had to do.

As she hesitated, the door flew open and a roughly-dressed man rushed out, cursing under his breath. She stepped aside, her heart thumping uncomfortably.

She was about to turn away when a harsh voice came from inside the dimly-lit shop. Well, do you want to do business or don’t you?

Deciding that she really had no choice, Madeleine took a deep breath and stepped inside.

So – what do you have for me? the pawnbroker asked, smiling knowingly as she raised her hands to remove the locket. She wasn’t the first person having to part with her most treasured possession after falling on hard times.

Reluctantly, she handed it over the counter. He took it from her, turning it over and clicking it open to reveal that it was empty. Madeleine had removed the miniature portrait of her grandmother and slipped it between the pages of her Bible for safe-keeping.

No inscription, that’s good, the man said, peering at the locket through his lens. Still, it’s really not worth a lot. He named a sum which was far less than Madeleine had anticipated. Her grandmother had always hinted that the locket was quite valuable.

I’m sure you can give me a bit more than that, she said firmly.

He fingered the locket and chewed his lip. All right then. He gave her a slip of paper with a number on it and a handful of coins.

It was nowhere near what she had hoped for but, as she left the shop, her spirits lifted a little. She could give Ralph Newman at least a token payment when he called the next day. But it would only delay the inevitable she realised. There was nothing else to sell or pawn.

She was reluctant to go home and face her mother’s inevitable questioning as to where she had been. She was sure to notice the absence of the locket and Madeleine didn’t think she’d be able to lie. It was becoming harder to hide their situation from her, but as Tilly had said, she would have to know some time. But not today, Madeleine thought, turning towards the hard once more and gazing out over the estuary at the ships moored there, thinking of her departed brother once more. The sun was now lower on the horizon, the sky darkening to deep red and purple reflected on the water below. As a schooner passed close inshore, tacking against the wind, Madeleine sighed, wishing she was on board and sailing away from all her troubles. She had rarely left the island, even when the railway had opened making travel easier.

Biting her lip to stop the tears from welling up, she turned away abruptly, gasping as someone grabbed her arm. She looked up into a bearded, grime-encrusted face, the lips twisted in a snarl.

Come on, lady. Hand it over, the man said, snatching at the bag which hung from her wrist.

What do you mean? she stammered.

The money he gave you. I saw you come out of the pawnshop.

Madeleine now recognised him as the man who had nearly knocked her over earlier. Indignation helped her to overcome her fright and she clutched the bag to her breast. I haven’t got any money. He wouldn’t give me any, she lied.

Well, I’ll have whatever it is you were going to pawn, he said, making another grab for the bag.

As she struggled to pull away, another figure loomed over her and the man let out a yell, letting go of her and the bag. Thinking it was somebody else trying to rob her, she tried to run. But her legs felt weak and she leaned against a low wall, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths. Someone touched her arm and she shrank away.

Are you all right, miss? He didn’t hurt you did he?

The voice was low and gentle and she opened her eyes to see a young man in naval uniform bending towards her. For a brief moment she thought it was Patrick and she gasped, then gave a nervous laugh as she realised her foolishness.

Reassured by the officer’s insignia on his sleeve, she managed a smile. I’m not hurt, she said faintly. She felt for her bag and said, At least he didn’t get my money.

You should have let him take it. Better than being injured or worse, the sailor said.

Nothing could be worse than losing that money, she declared sharply.

Well, I’m pleased to have saved your money and possibly your life, he snapped. So if you’re quite sure you’re all right, I’ll be on my way. He began to walk away and Madeleine felt ashamed of her outburst.

She reached out a hand. No, please, I’m sorry. I haven’t thanked you.

I’m glad I happened to be passing. He turned and looked at her keenly. You’re very pale. Perhaps you’ll allow me to escort you home, he said.

Thank you, that’s very kind. Despite her reassurance, Madeleine truly was feeling a little faint and, although it was deemed unseemly for a young woman to walk through the town with a strange young man, she really didn’t care if any of her neighbours saw her. There was probably enough gossip going around about her family already, she thought.

I should introduce myself, the sailor said, taking her arm. I’m Lieutenant Stephen Harker of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy. He glanced down at her from his greater height. And who have I the pleasure of escorting?

Miss Shaw – Madeleine, she whispered.

Miss Madeleine Shaw – Captain Shaw’s sister? he asked.

You knew my brother?

Patrick was a great friend although I did not realise his family lived here. I would have called to express my condolences long since if I had known.

His death was a great blow – my mother has never recovered from it.

Perhaps you will allow me to call on her. Your brother was a very brave man.

No, please… How