One Snowy Night

by Amanda Grange

  ‘We shall miss you,’ said Hetty, kissing him on the cheek.

  ‘It’s been good of you to put up with me for so long,’ Joshua said with a smile.

  ‘Nonsense!’ declared Hetty. ‘It hasn’t been long enough! We have hardly seen anything of you this last week. But you will be in London again before long, I hope?’

  ‘That depends,’ said Joshua. ‘I will have to see how things go.’

  ‘Well, you know you are always welcome here,’ remarked Hetty warmly.

  Joshua took his leave of Hetty and then turned to Rebecca. ‘Rebecca,’ he said, formally taking his leave of her.

  ‘Joshua,’ she replied equally formally as he bowed over her hand.

  ‘Your parting will not be of such a long duration,’ Hetty remarked innocently, ‘for you will be seeing each other again before long.’ She smiled artlessly up at Joshua. ‘Rebecca will be returning to Cheshire next week, and that of course is very near the mill.’

  Rebecca felt Joshua’s eyes rove over her face, but there was nothing burning in his glance. Instead, his manner was cool and distant. ‘Until we next meet, then,’ he said.

  And with that he was gone.

  The rest of Rebecca’s visit passed quickly. She was determined to enjoy herself, and to make the most of her time with Hetty and Charles in the capital.

  Miss Biddulph had by now completely recovered from her illness, and Rebecca was glad that Biddy would be able to accompany them on their outings. It was for this reason that Rebecca had asked her old governess to act as her companion on the long journey, knowing that Biddy would enjoy herself in London, visiting the elegant shops and interesting museums, once they arrived.

  With the weather a little improved Rebecca, Biddy and Hetty embarked on a number of shopping trips. Cousin Louisa, unable to travel to London herself because of her rheumatism, had given Rebecca a list of commissions, and these commissions Rebecca now set about fulfilling. She enjoyed purchasing the lengths of silk and muslin her cousin had asked for, as well as slippers and bonnets and a host of smaller items that bore the stamp of London instead of the less modish stamp of the provinces.

  In this way the final week of Rebecca’s visit passed, and before long it was time for her, too, to leave.

  ‘You hardly seem to have been here two minutes,’ said Hetty regretfully as she kissed Rebecca goodbye. ‘Next time, you must come for longer.’

  ‘If Louisa is fit to travel, I will,’ Rebecca promised, returning Hetty’s embrace. ‘I did not like to leave her too long on her own this time.’

  Charles gave her his hand and wished her a safe journey. ‘And remember, you are welcome here any time,’ he said.

  Rebecca thanked her.

  Hetty and Charles bade Miss Biddulph farewell, and hoped she would not take cold again from the journey.

  Then, fastening the strings of her bonnet and smoothing her travelling cloak, Rebecca pulled on her gloves and the two ladies made ready to depart.

  ‘I have had the squabs warmed with warming pans,’ said Hetty, as she accompanied Rebecca and Miss Biddulph out of the front door. ‘There are two stone hot water bottles for your feet - one for each of you - and two silver flasks of hot water to warm your hands. The travelling rug has been warmed. I do hope your journey won’t be too uncomfortable.’

  ‘It will be better than the journey down to London, I’m sure,’ said Rebecca, looking around her. The snow still lingered, but the roads were relatively clear. The worst of the winter weather was over.

  ‘I have had the box of gifts for Louisa put at the back of the coach,’ went on Hetty, as she and Rebecca went down the steps, whilst Charles and Biddy followed on behind. ‘I have included one or two little extra presents to make up for the fact that she was not able to come. There is a hamper beneath your seat, and if you get cold, don’t hesitate to take a glass of Madeira. It will combat any chills and warm you through until you can reach an inn and spend an hour or two in front of a fire.’

  ‘Dear Hetty,’ smiled Rebecca. ‘Thank you for everything!’

  She stepped into the coach, and once she and Miss Biddulph had seated themselves it pulled away. They waved to Hetty and Charles until the coach turned a corner and then settled themselves down for the long journey north.

  It was a week later when Rebecca’s coach reached Cheshire. The roads, although passable, had been treacherous in places and the going had been slow. Added to that was the fact that Rebecca and Miss Biddulph had not been able to spend more than six hours in the coach each day because of the cold and the journey had necessarily been long.

  The coach’s first stop was at Miss Biddulph’s modest home. With many thanks - for she had enjoyed her sojourn in London, despite its unhappy beginning - Miss Biddulph climbed out of the coach. One of the footmen carried her trunk to the front door, and Rebecca waited only until he had returned before giving Biddy a final wave and instructing the coach to pull away.

  Another hour took her to the gates of her own home, a delightful gentleman’s residence in the heart of the Cheshire countryside.

  It was three years now since her parents had been killed in a boating accident. During that time a number of eligible gentlemen had offered to take care of her, but Rebecca had resisted them all and had instead invited Cousin Louisa to live with her.

  Cousin Louisa, a gentle spinster of straitened means, had been glad to accept the invitation. It was an arrangement which had worked out well for them both. Rebecca’s spirited character made up for Louisa’s rather timid nature and they enjoyed each other’s company. Besides, Rebecca was glad of the respectability Louisa’s presence conferred on her, whilst Louisa was grateful to have some companionship.

  Rebecca’s musings came to an end as the house came in sight. It was an elegant Georgian residence, long and low, with tall windows looking out over the gardens. Welcoming lights streamed out into the gathering gloom of the winter afternoon, and Rebecca felt a surge of happiness wash over her. She was home!

  The coach rolled round the turning circle in front of the door. Even before it had stopped Cousin Louisa, wrapped in a large shawl, came out to greet her.

  ‘Rebecca! My dear! I am so glad you are home!’

  ‘So am I!’ said Rebecca, giving her older cousin a hug.

  ‘But come, my dear, you must be cold. Let us go in.’

  The two ladies went into the house. It was warm and welcoming after the cold and dark of the coach, the familiar cream walls contrasting with the brightly-polished mahogany furniture and the gold of the long drapes.

  Rebecca turned to Louisa as she undid the strings of her bonnet and cast her eye over her cousin, hoping that she had not had too much trouble with her rheumatism over the last few weeks.

  What she saw did much to reassure her. Louisa was looking younger than her five-and-forty years and her pleasing face, surrounded by soft, mousey hair and dominated by a pair of pince-nez, appeared to be free of pain. Her small, rounded body was held upright, and she seemed to be moving more easily than she had been doing before Rebecca left.

  ‘You look well,’ said Rebecca.

  ‘My dear, I feel well! It is those new pills the apothecary has given me! They have removed almost all the pain, and the salve he has prescribed has made my joints move more freely, I am sure. But come into the drawing-room. We must not stand out here talking in the hall.’

  They went through into the drawing-room.

  Rebecca looked around at the familiar, well-loved room. It was neither grand nor imposing, and the furniture was decidedly shabby, but a warm feeling washed over her as she took off her bonnet. The ormolu clock was still ticking on the mantelpiece, her favourite chair was set by the fire, and the warm tones of the apricot walls gave off a cosy glow. After all the turmoil of her trip to London, it was good to be home.

  ‘Now, sit down and tell me all about it,’ said Louisa, her eyes glowing with her pleasure at seeing Rebecca again. ‘Or perhaps you would rather go to your room and rest after your long j
ourney?’

  Rebecca smiled. Cousin Louisa was obviously eager for news and company, but was thinking of Rebecca in her usual unselfish manner.

  ‘I will just wash, and change my gown,’ said Rebecca, feeling a sudden longing to be rid of the dust and grime of the road, ‘but then I would like nothing so much as a cup of chocolate and a comfortable cose by the fire.’

  ‘Oh, yes, my dear. That will be just the thing.’

  Less than half an hour later Rebecca found herself ushered into her favourite chair and a footstool placed before her feet, and Louisa then settled herself down and looked at her eagerly, waiting for all the news.

  ‘Hetty and Charles send their love,’ said Rebecca, sipping at her cup of chocolate, ‘and they have sent some presents for you.’ She put down her cup and went into the corner of the room, where the box Hetty had given her had been tucked away by Collins the coachman when he had unpacked the coach.

  Rebecca picked it up and carried it over to Louisa, putting it down in front of her.

  ‘Oh, how kind!’ said Louisa, as she began to open it, unfastening the straps that had been buckled around it to keep it safely closed.

  ‘I managed to carry out all your commissions,’ said Rebecca as Louisa threw back the lid. ‘I hope you like the things I bought for you.’

  On top of the box were the lengths of material Louisa had asked for, consisting of a length of brown woollen cloth, a length of dove grey silk and a length of olive muslin.

  ‘Just the thing,’ said Louisa, taking each length of fabric out in turn. ‘My old gowns are growing decidedly shabby.’ She looked down at the faded gown she was wearing, made of a drab silk. It was rather old-fashioned, and lacked any of the ribbons and flounces that were now à la mode. ‘It will do me good to have something new to wear.’

  And then came various gifts that Louisa had not expected: a Cashmere shawl, a new bonnet and a pair of the softest kid boots, together with half a dozen lace handkerchiefs and a bottle of lavender water.

  ‘Oh, how kind!’ said Louisa again, much touched.

  There were several more presents in the box, including one of Hetty’s cook’s excellent fruit cakes and a bottle of Madeira. Then, when the last item had been exclaimed over, Rebecca set down her cup in its porcelain saucer and began to tell Louisa all about her visit to London. She told her about the reading of Jebadiah’s will, and then told her about the shopping, the visits to the museums, and the afternoon at Frost Fair.

  The only things she did not mention were those that affected Joshua. She told Louisa that she had seen him, that he was well and that he sent his love - for he had known Louisa in his childhood as she and her parents had lived with Jebadiah for a while. But she said nothing about the uncontrolled horse and the stone that had narrowly missed hitting him when he had been taking dinner at Hetty and Charles’s house. Louisa was of a somewhat nervous disposition and the less she had to worry her, the better.

  ‘Freezewater Street!’ exclaimed Louisa, as Rebecca told her of the name that had been given to the Thames. And then, as Rebecca told her all about the stalls and booths, the jugglers and the skating, she clasped her hands together and said, ‘Oh! I wish I could have been there!’

  ‘As soon as you are well enough to travel, you must pay Hetty and Charles a visit. They would love to have you, and asked me to say so particularly.’

  ‘Oh, my dear! They are so kind. And it does all sound so wonderful.’ Louisa gave a sigh. ‘I must confess I have been lonely on my own, cooped up here day after day with nothing to do, and the weather so gloomy, and no one to speak to,’ she said.

  Rebecca put her hand out to Louisa. ‘I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to go away and leave you for so long.’

  As if realizing that she had made Rebecca feel guilty, when nothing had been further from her mind, Louisa immediately contradicted herself, saying shamelessly, ‘Nonsense! You have hardly been gone at all. I have had a wonderful time whilst you have been away. Why, I was only saying to Betsy the other day’ - Betsy being the general servant - ‘what a nice change it has been to be on my own for a while. Such a tonic for my nerves. I do declare that you did me a very great favour, Rebecca, by going away. And I have had so much to do that I have never been bored for an instant! I have been reading and sewing, and if the weather has been bad outside, why, it has only made me appreciate how snug and cosy I have been inside. And if you do not believe me, you may ask Betsy, for she can vouch for it all.’

  Rebecca leaned across and gave Louisa a kiss on the cheek.

  ‘Oh, my dear,’ said Louisa, flustered but nevertheless pleased, ‘what on earth was that for?’

  ‘Oh, for nothing,’ said Rebecca, thinking how lucky she was to have such a lovely cousin. Then, settling herself back in her chair she said, ‘Even so, I am sure you would enjoy a holiday, especially as the new pills are doing you good, and I have a suggestion to make.’

  She had been thinking it over in the coach on the journey from London and now she had made up her mind. ‘As you know, Grandfather left me half of Marsden mill, and I mean to take an active interest in it. I could do so from here, but it would mean a lot of travelling, and with the weather being uncertain that is not a good idea. So I have decided to take a house in Manchester for the next few months.’

  ‘Manchester?’ Louisa’s face broke into a smile. ‘It would be the very thing. There are the shops - not so grand as London, but still, there are some very pretty things to be had along Deansgate and in the Exchange Hall. And then there will be Mrs Emily Camberwell to visit, and her sister, Mrs Camilla Renwick.’ Emily and Camilla had been at the same seminary as Louisa in their younger days, and the three had remained friends. ‘And of course, best of all, we will be near to our own dear Joshua, who is now in Manchester to take care of the mill! It will be so wonderful to see him again.’

  That was the one thing against the idea, to Rebecca’s way of thinking, for she was under no illusions as to the strength of her attraction to Joshua and knew that meeting him would be difficult. Nevertheless, as they were partners in the mill it was something that could not be avoided.

  ‘You like the idea?’ she asked.

  Louisa smiled. ‘Of course I do. I think it’s a splendid idea.’

  ‘Then it is settled.’

  ‘Emily and Camilla will help us find a house, I am sure,’ said Louisa thoughtfully.

  ‘Good. As soon as it can be arranged we will move to town.’ She yawned.

  ‘Oh, my dear, you must be tired,’ said Louisa sympathetically.

  ‘I am,’ Rebecca admitted.

  ‘I will tell Betsy to serve dinner at once. And then you must have an early night.’

  Whilst the arrangements for the move to Manchester were being made, Rebecca had time to enjoy being at home again, at least for a short while. The weather continued cold. Fortunately it was not quite as bad as it had been earlier in the year, but still, she and Louisa did not get out much. There was in truth very little for two spinster ladies to do in a modest house in the Cheshire countryside in the middle of winter. The shops and concerts of Manchester, however, would provide a pleasant distraction.

  ‘I hope we have remembered everything,’ said Louisa, as at last the carriage was packed and they were off.

  ‘I’m sure we have,’ said Rebecca. ‘The rented house is furnished, and we have already sent the linen and china up to town with Betsy. And besides, if we have forgotten anything, we can always send Betsy back for it.’

  ‘Yes, my dear, you are right,’ said Louisa. ‘I am so pleased we have brought a few personal touches with us. They will make the place feel more homely. I am looking forward to hanging Grandfather’s portrait in the drawing-room.’ She settled herself back against the squabs and stretched her legs out in front of her.

  ‘Have you enough room?’ asked Rebecca.

  ‘Plenty,’ said Louisa. Her face suddenly lit up. ‘Oh, Rebecca, I am so excited! I can’t remember the last time I had any fun!’

  R
ebecca was delighted to see Louisa’s enthusiasm. Her cousin had had a dull winter, made worse by problems with her joints, and was in need of some entertainment. Besides, a round of parties and shopping would take Louisa’s mind off the aches and pains her pills had not been able to alleviate.

  ‘Then we will make the most of it,’ said Rebecca. ‘I will have to spend some of my time at the mill, but for the rest of the time we will enjoy ourselves.’

  Louisa sighed. ‘Jebadiah would be pleased. He always loved Manchester. It is where he began his life, and he remained a Northern lad to the end!’

  The countryside rolled past the window, with only a small pocket of snow left here and there to show what a hard winter it had been. The grass was green and verdant, and looked as fresh as if it had been new-washed. Above it was a clear, cold sky.

  As they drew nearer the city the scenery changed. Meadows and a rushing river gave way to streets and buildings, some fine, others squalid. The recent expansion of the city had brought both good and bad in its wake. Good, because the manufacturing industries had brought work and wealth to the city; bad because it had also brought poverty, for the mill hands could only work when there was work to be had, and in these times of unrest there were often periods of enforced idleness when the war with France or trouble with the Luddites brought mills to a standstill.

  But still Rebecca felt her interest quickening. This was where her grandfather had laid the foundations of his fortune, and she felt a connection to the city.

  The coach began to move more slowly as the streets became busier. Smart shops now lined the sides of the roads, and fashionable people strolled along the pavements. Gentlemen raised their hats to greet friends or acquaintances. Ladies, followed by footmen balancing columns of hat boxes, disappeared into modiste’s. Young children with their nursemaids skipped along, taking some exercise. Brewers’ carts rolled past, drawn by plodding cart horses. Hackney carriages went by. And in front of them assorted carts and carriages made their way forward in a bustle of noise and confusion.