‘It must have been hard for Eliza when Pellham left for the army,’ she mused carefully. ‘I wonder he did not write while he was in France.’
‘Oh, but he did, my dear, and often!’ Mrs Pellham nodded vigorously before a shadow crossed her face. ‘The letters didn’t always arrive regularly, but when one did, Eliza would carry it around for days and reread parts to me. But, now then… where are my manners? Let me pour you that tea…’
Seconds later, a cup of hot, sweet brew was being pressed into Josephine’s hands. She took a sip and thanked her hostess, though she was aching to know more.
‘You were telling me about Pellham’s letters to Eliza while he was away?’ she prompted when Mrs Pellham had settled back down into an armchair as faded as her dress. ‘He must have really missed her.’
Mrs Pellham appeared to collect her thoughts. ‘Aye, he did, and she him, though they weren’t always the best behaved!’ She chuckled, her eyes shining. ‘Truth be told, they were a right couple of mischief-makers at times, and I should know, they were my flesh and blood! Some used to ask if I were jealous of their bond, but they were like one person, see, and it didn’t surprise me that they departed together in the end, too…’ Mrs Pellham trailed off thoughtfully before drawing a deep breath. ‘Eliza probably told you they grew up living with my mother, but they visited me whenever they could. Then Eliza came more when her brother left for France, to tell me all the news… I do so miss her voice,’ she added, her voice lowering. ‘Though I still keep them both nearby, even now they’re gone.’
She stood up again as Josephine watched, mesmerised, but this time she crossed to her dusty mantlepiece and felt along, before gently lifting down an old, cracked vase. Then she returned to her seat and withdrew a thick bundle of yellowed envelopes tied with a frayed scarlet ribbon. Mrs Pellham pressed the bundle to her lips before untying it and offering a letter to Josephine.
‘I wonder if you might read me a little, my dear… while you’re here?’ she asked, her pale eyes misting.
Josephine stared, dumbfounded, at the thick bundle of old letters resting in her lap. They were in matching yellow envelopes and addressed in the same flowing hand, with foreign, military-looking postal stamps. She couldn’t have hoped for as much. If Pellham’s letters to his own sister didn’t offer an insight into the truth, she wasn’t sure anything could.
‘It would be my sincere pleasure,’ she whispered, taking the letter and waiting as Mrs Pellham settled back in her chair.
She opened it nervously and spread the single sheet out on her skirt before clearing her throat.
‘My dearest Eliza,’ she read by a stream of light through a small, latticed window. ‘I trust this letter finds you, Mother and Grandmother in good health.I am well and finding life in the regiment to my liking. The rations are fair, the quarters are decent, and the weather has been kind for the most part. I haven’t spent much time with the other men, there isn’t the opportunity between shifts, and I like to keep to myself. In truth, I have not felt entirely comfortable, for you know I did not enlist alone and a meeting is inevitable.
‘I do hope, however, dear sister, that when this letter finds you, the rumours surrounding my departure will have subsided. It pains me to know you must have endured so much in my absence and I entreat you to bear it with Pellham fortitude, until such time that I can return and do so for you.
‘Your affectionate brother,George.’
Josephine paused when she reached the end and stared at the careful lettering. It was the first time she’d seen Pellham’s name in his own hand, and somehow it made him so much more real. She could tell there was much he wasn’t saying explicitly, that only Eliza would have understood his full meaning, but it was clear that the bond between them was significant.
‘Yes, they were very close, my dear,’ Mrs Pellham confirmed as though she could read Josephine’s thoughts. ‘And even though there was all that business with young Huntingly, it never divided them, even at the end. He always swore he’d protect her in life and death, and he did.’
Josephine looked up, startled by Mrs Pellham’s direct mention of Lord Huntingly.
‘Business with young Huntingly?’ she repeated softly.
‘Aye, Eliza must have told you, even if you didn’t hear of it at Ebcott– it were all over the county at the time! But I don’t care what they said, George wasn’t the type to go hurting anyone. He were a caring boy, brought up with respect, and when it happened, well, it changed him.’
‘I understand,’ Josephine assured her, somehow knowing her testimony was more than the words of a loving mother, that she was speaking the truth.
She drew a deep breath, her mind whirling with a very different George Pellham from the one she’d expected to encounter, together with a succession of new questions that cast all her previous assumptions into shade. Yet, she was certain his thick bundle of letters would somehow contain the answers. ‘Did you ever discover the truth?’ she ventured, wondering how his mother seemed aware of her every thought.
Mrs Pellham slowly turned her head towards Josephine. ‘It were a bad business,’ she replied in a low voice, ‘and the only people who knew the truth were themselves. I thought they might have time, all of them, to work it out and find a resolution, but after Lord Huntingly’s accident there was the duel—’ she paused to shudder ‘—and… Italy.’
‘Please don’t upset yourself,’ Josephine intervened swiftly. ‘It really is none of my?—’
‘He didn’t do anything dishonourable!’ Mrs Pellham interrupted fiercely, catching hold of Josephine’s wrist. ‘He weren’t the type, I’m telling you!’
‘I believe you,’ Josephine whispered. ‘Whatever happened to Lord Huntingly, George was innocent.’
At this reassurance, his mother relaxed her hold. ‘Yes, you know it, I can tell. They were good children and always tried to take care of me. Even old Lord Huntingly could see that. But when he passed—’ she drew a deep, wracking breath ‘—it changed everything. No one believed it was an accident… and there was such talk in the village. Eliza tried to stem it, but then they only turned against her… It were all a terrible time, Miss Fairfax, and that’s no lie.’
‘Pray, do not upset yourself, Mrs Pellham,’ Josephine entreated again. ‘I should not have asked such a question, it was thoughtless of me.’
‘No, my dear, I am grateful, for you have brought George’s voice back, and now I can sleep. The letters are all I have left, you see?’
‘I am more than happy I’ve helped,’ Josephine whispered as Mrs Pellham drew a breath. ‘Would you like me to replace the letters in the vase for you? It’s no trouble.’
‘Please, take them with you, my dear,’ Mrs Pellham muttered, lifting her head wearily. ‘I am not long for this world, and I worry they will fall into the wrong hands. Take them because you cared. Take them because of your friendship with Eliza.’
She smiled and pressed the bundle into Josephine’s hands, her expression so hopeful that Josephine couldn’t refuse her, despite her burning conscience.
