by Diane Allen
‘Isabelle, come – leave her be. Now you know why she’s been kept distant from you. The past is best buried with your father, and we will not be entering this house again.’ Charlotte waited as a tearful Isabelle walked back to her side. ‘I’m sorry you’ve not changed, Dora. At one time, after Joseph’s death, I felt sorry for you and wished you well. Now I realize that you are bitter and twisted, and I will make sure Harriet knows what you are really like. You will not spoil my family’s happiness, no matter how hard you try.’
‘Get back to your posh house and your posh friends, but remember where you came from. If you hadn’t married my brother, you’d be worth nowt,’ Dora shouted from behind her chair.
‘He had nothing, and you knew it. He left me nearly bankrupt and with child. You were quick to leave and worm yourself into someone else’s life. Did Ezera ever know the gutter that you crawled out of, or have you kept that as your secret?’ Charlotte shouted back, as she ushered Isabelle out of the drawing room and into the hallway.
‘Get out of my house – get out now!’ Dora ran the hand-bell that was on the table by her side, summoning her butler to help evict Charlotte and Isabelle.
‘We are going, don’t worry. The air in here is poison, as you are. Good day, Dora. You’ll not be seeing either of us again, and I suggest that you advertise for a new shop assistant, because Harriet will be leaving your employment.’ Charlotte marched out through the hallway, past an aghast butler and maid, slamming the front door and shooing Isabelle down the path into the awaiting trap.
‘I take it Dora has not changed then, ma’am?’ Jethro helped Isabelle and Charlotte up into the trap, before mounting himself.
‘She most certainly has not, but she’ll not get the better of me, Jethro. I’m one step ahead of her nowadays. On our way back, Jethro, can you stop the trap outside the vacant shop on Duke Street? I just need to have a quick look at it.’ Charlotte put her arm around Isabelle and hugged her. ‘Are you alright, my love? Now you understand why you don’t need to know about your father’s family, and I’m sorry that what I said was cutting and hard. But the woman knows no different. I’ve learned over the years that you can’t let someone bully you.’
‘I’m a bit shaken, Mother. I lost my temper too, and perhaps I should not have said anything.’ Isabelle looked down and felt sad for the words she had said in anger. ‘Perhaps I am like my father; perhaps Dora is right.’
‘That’s what she wants you to think. True, you have some of his looks, but that is not a bad thing. Your father was a handsome man and a real charmer. Those are the qualities of his that you have, but there is not a bad bone in your body, my love. I know because you are my most precious daughter, whom I love dearly. Now, when Jethro pulls up the gig, we will have a quick look at the shop that is up for rent. I’m thinking that I should diversify and perhaps make Harriet’s dreams come true. After all, I can see that Danny loves her deeply, but we have to get her out of the clutches of Dora Bloomenber. I was thinking of perhaps a little dress shop, with you and Harriet putting your heads together: you design the dresses and Harriet can make them. It would be the perfect combination, and it would keep you from becoming as bored as I know you are some days.’
‘Mother, that would be perfect, and it would make Danny so happy. So, you like Harriet? I haven’t dared ask, since she came to tea.’ Isabelle’s eyes lit up at the thought of sketching dress designs with Harriet, and then seeing them come to life.
‘She is, as you said, a little common and a bit forward. But we will soon make her into a lady, once she is under our wing. And I can see that happening soon, for your brother is infatuated with her. At least she speaks her mind, which is better than keeping things hidden.’ Charlotte held her hand out for Jethro to take, as the gig and horse stopped outside the empty shop.
‘I’ll never keep a secret from you again, Mother. I’m not like my father. And if Harriet agrees to your idea, I know it will work.’ Isabelle grinned as she nearly jumped down from the gig, at the thought of her having her own business.
‘Right, we will ask her this weekend; we’ll bring her to look around the shop, if I find it suitable. Time to add another string to the Atkinson bow, and an upper-class dress shop would be a nice asset to add to our investments, I think.’
Charlotte smiled as she peered in through the shop’s empty windows. You could advertise Atkinson’s finest cottons and calicos there, she thought, for those who would prefer to make their own dresses rather than buy them ready-made. Every time she had got knocked back, she picked herself up. And damn Dora, because she would never be hurt by her again.
5
‘I think you are mad, lass. What do you want with a dress shop? Do you not think you’ve enough on, with running the mill and doing the books for Crummock?’ Archie leaned back in his chair and sighed, as he tried to read the local paper in the morning room of Windfell and listened as Charlotte told him of her plan.
‘The mill gives me a few worries, I must admit, but it doesn’t take as much of my time, now Bert Bannister is manager, and he’s got a good overseer in Edwin Mellin. And Crummock’s bookkeeping doesn’t take me long; plus, you forget that I’ve been doing that since I was sixteen and was keeping my father straight with his money. Besides, I have that money that the Midland Railway paid to me for their buying part of the manor’s land for the new line to run through. I couldn’t invest it better than by setting my daughter, and hopefully my daughter-in-law, up in business, in goods that the mill can partly supply them with and in which I have contacts, for the rest of their supplies. It makes perfect sense to me.’
‘And what if our lad decides Harriet’s not the one? Have you thought of that? What if her father says our Danny isn’t good enough for her? And you heard her say what her parents thought of running a dress shop.’ Archie shook his head as he listened to Charlotte’s scheming; she was always one jump ahead of everyone else, but sometimes she took things for granted. It had been the same when the Midland Railway had wanted to plough a railway line through the valley: she’d been first in the queue to see how they would benefit and to get the highest price for the small amount of the manor’s parkland that the line crossed. Now she was complaining that the smoke from the steam engines drifted up towards the manor most days, hence the invitation for one of the directors to Isabelle’s party. As if the manager could do anything about the massive engines emitting the steam that drove them! When was Charlotte going to realize that on some days things would not always go her way.
‘Don’t be daft, Archie, you know your lad is a good catch and that he’s smitten with Harriet. She’d be an absolute idiot to turn him down, and the chance for her to run her own business alongside Isabelle.’ Charlotte picked up the embroidery she had been doing for at least six months from the sewing basket next to her chair and looked at it. She tried to be the lady she was supposed to be, but sewing pretty patterns onto a piece of linen had nothing against doing a business deal. It was her father’s fault, she thought to herself; he’d brought her up to stand her ground, and not let man or woman get the better of her.
‘It’ll be your business, and you know it. If – and at this moment it is “if” – Harriet agrees to your scheme, you must leave Isabelle and Harriet to run it, and you must keep your views to yourself if they have any disagreements. You promise me, Charlotte, because I know you: sometimes you are like a bull in a china shop with your cutting comments and you are quick to judge.’ Archie stood up, walked to the window and looked out down the valley.
‘I don’t know what you mean. Of course I’ll leave them to it, but I’ll keep an eye on the profits. It’ll do Isabelle good, as she should contribute to society. Besides, I’m fed up of hearing her telling Ralph’s how she wants her dresses to look; she can design her own now. It gets quite embarrassing, when she knows more about fashion than they do. The other day she told them that their mantles were too plain. Well, she can design her own from now on.’ Charlotte pricked her finger on her needle and s
wore under her breath as she licked the blood off.
‘Well, I wouldn’t know what a mantle was, so she’s one up on me.’ Archie turned and looked at his disdainful wife.
‘Yes, you do: it’s the little cape-like top that’s all the fashion at the moment. Isabelle’s got a bright red one with black lace on it, which she wears all the time. I hope Harriet knows that bustles are in fashion. Crinolines have definitely had their day.’ Charlotte screwed up her embroidery, pushing it back into her sewing box; she’d no patience with needlework.
‘Listen to you, woman, you can’t even do a bit of embroidery.’ Archie laughed loudly at his wife’s hypocrisy as she sucked her pricked finger.
‘But I do know what will sell, Archie Atkinson, and how to sell it, so stop your scoffing. Just you keep your eye on your farming and leave the rest to me.’
Harriet sat in the drawing room of Windfell, across from Isabelle, and sipped her tea nervously. Jethro, the manor’s footman and groom, had called into the jewellery shop while she had been working, to ask if she could attend for afternoon tea the following day. She had of course agreed, hoping that she would see Danny there, but there was no sight of him as she sat wondering what the meeting was all about, while her teacup rattled with nerves on its saucer. Did his stepmother want to discourage her from seeing Danny, because of the bad feeling with her employer? If she did, then Charlotte was going to be in for a shock, for nothing would come between her and her Danny. She loved him with all her heart, and nothing would part them. She smiled across at Isabelle, who had greeted her warmly as soon as she had entered the manor, but was now making polite conversation about the weather and how many trains ran on the newly opened railway line, as they awaited the arrival of her mother, who had been held up at the mill.
Isabelle stood up, relieved, when she heard the front door of the manor slam, as her mother rushed into the hallway. She’d promised not to say anything to Harriet before her mother had a chance to. Charlotte entered the room, still with her cape and hat on, and quickly gave her apologies as she untied the ribbons on her hat, passing it and the cape to the butler, Stephen Thomson, who followed hot-foot on her heels, worried that he’d missed opening the door for his mistress.
‘Thank you, Thomson. Could you ask Mrs Pratt for a fresh pot of tea, please. And a sandwich of some sort would be most welcome, as I didn’t get the chance for lunch today.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Thomson took her apparel and went quickly down to the kitchen.
‘I’m sorry, Harriet. I did want to be here on your arrival, but Sally Oversby made me aware of a problem on one of the carding machines, and then I had to discuss it with Mr Bannister. I’m afraid one thing just led to another, leaving me late to meet you.’ Charlotte smiled at the nervous-looking girl who was sitting on her sofa and at her daughter, who by the look on her face could not contain her news any longer. ‘Well, I’d better tell you why I’ve asked you here today, before Isabelle bursts. Also, I wanted to apologize for being rather sharp with you last time you were here. I realize that you are an innocent party who is unfortunately caught up in the middle of a family feud.’
Harriet smiled, wondering what was going to be said next, and not even having a chance to greet her host.
‘Isabelle and I visited Dora Bloomenber on Monday, and it was as I feared – Dora not having changed one bit since she left here as housekeeper, apart from ageing significantly. I fear she will use you, Harriet, to cause bother in our family. After you had left on Sunday I started thinking about what we could do, if she did interfere, as I realize you think a great deal of Danny. And his happiness is his father’s, and my own, greatest concern, along with that of Isabelle. As it happened, the answer lay in what you said regarding your dressmaking skills and in Isabelle’s non-stop sketching of dresses and accessories. To cut a long story short, Harriet, Isabelle and I viewed the shop that is vacant on Duke Street and we wondered if you might be interested in opening a draper’s shop, along with Isabelle – on the understanding that you leave Bloomenber’s. It would solve the problem of Dora interfering in our lives, and would give you something that you have always dreamed of.’ Charlotte hesitated, as Thomson brought in a new pot of tea and a round of cucumber sandwiches, placing them on the table in front of her. She looked at the young woman who had caused her so many sleepless nights, but who had now started to win her over and make her realize that she had her own mind, and that her love for Danny was true.
‘Mrs Atkinson, I don’t know what to say.’ Harriet looked over at Isabelle. ‘I’d have to discuss it with my parents. Would I be able to manage? Would we make enough money? And how do I tell Mrs Bloomenber? She’s always been reasonable with me.’
‘I’m prepared to back you both for a year. By then you should be able to stand on your own two feet. And I would prefer it if you could cut all ties with Dora Bloomenber; once she knows our plan, she will not be amused.’ Charlotte bit into her sandwich and sipped her tea, watching the realization of young Harriet’s dream dawning on her.
‘Does Danny know anything about this? He hasn’t said a word,’ Harriet asked as Charlotte ate another sandwich.
‘No, he knows nothing. We’ll tell him once we know that you are interested.’ Charlotte smiled.
Isabelle rushed over to sit next to Harriet and grabbed her hand. So much had happened in the short time since Harriet had entered their lives, and Isabelle was beginning to realize that she, too, had misjudged the young woman in front of her. Now, like her mother, she wanted to make things right and welcome the girl properly into the family. ‘Please, Harriet, say “yes” – it will be so much fun. I know all the latest trends, Mother can get all the materials we need, and you are a superb seamstress. Just think: our own business. And you’ll see Danny every day.’
‘I expect you to work, Isabelle, so not too much fun. You would have to work together on not too-complicated designs, and you’ll have to undercut Ralph’s, when you first start out.’ Charlotte sat back and looked at the two young women. They complemented one another – one dark and the other blonde – they were young and eager, and they reminded her a lot of herself when she was younger. ‘Isabelle, show Harriet some of your designs, and have a talk together while I go down to the kitchen with this tray. I want to see if Mrs Batty got moved into the cottage down at the locks. It will do you good to get to know one another, without me here to distract you.’
‘Thank you, ma’am, I am grateful. I just can’t believe what’s been offered to me, and of course I will discuss it with Isabelle. I’m sure we can work together.’
Harriet’s face was aglow with excitement as Charlotte left the room with her laden tray, and Charlotte smiled to herself as she heard designs and material being discussed while making her way down the steps to the kitchen. Interesting times lay ahead: a new business and, she hoped, a new member of the family, if Danny decided to marry the girl of his dreams, and she realized now that he could certainly do a lot worse than Harriet.
Danny rode up the drive to Ragged Hall, as his father had told him to go and speak to Bill Brown, who farmed there, and ask him if they could borrow his prize-winning Swaledale tup later in the autumn, to service some of his flock. He rode into the yard and dismounted, tethering his horse next to the mounting blocks against the barn. No sooner had he climbed down than a voice called out as he patted the horse’s neck.
‘Can I help you, sir?’
Danny turned and saw a young woman standing in front of him. Her hair shone like burnished copper in the summer sunshine and her skin was a pure milky-white, like the jug of milk that she was carrying out of the dairy.
‘Aye, is your master in? I’m here on a bit of business.’ Danny walked over to her, unable to ignore the beauty who stood in front of him. She was a bonny dairy lass, there was no denying that.
‘I’ve no master, sir. I presume you mean to speak to my father, Mr Brown? I’m his daughter, Amy.’ She smiled slightly, noticing the embarrassment of the young man who stood in fron
t of her.
‘My apologies, Miss Brown. I saw you carrying the milk jug and automatically presumed you were in service here. I do beg your forgiveness.’ Daniel apologized and held out his hand to be shaken as he introduced himself. ‘I’m Daniel Atkinson; my father farms at Crummock above Austwick, and my mother runs Ferndale Mill. My father has sent me to see about borrowing your prize tup. Is your father at home?’ Daniel looked at the attractive young woman with the emerald-green eyes and couldn’t stop gazing at her, she was that bewitching.
‘He’s gone to see my uncle, but he told me to expect you. Moses, our tup, is in the paddock awaiting your inspection, but perhaps you would like to join me in a cup of tea? I was just about to make one, hence the jug of milk.’ Amy smiled at the attractive young man in front of her. Her father had told her that she had to entertain him, informing her that Daniel was the best catch in the district, but not telling her how handsome he was, with his blond hair and blue eyes.
‘Moses, eh! Was he found in the bullrushes?’ Danny laughed.
‘He was actually; well, found in the reeds at the top of our main pasture. His mother had died giving birth to a second twin and I reared him as a pet, and that’s why he’s so soft.’ Amy stood next to Danny and watched as he smiled at the thought of a prize Swaledale tup being reared as a pet. ‘I hope you’ll look after him, if you borrow him. I’m still very fond of him.’
‘I’ll guard Moses with my life, but he’ll have his work cut out, for we’ve over two hundred ladies awaiting his services this autumn, if I’m not speaking out of turn, Miss Brown.’ Daniel blushed.
‘I’m a farmer’s daughter, so I know exactly how he has to perform. I’ve no brothers, and my mother died when I was born, so I’ve been brought up by my father, who believed I should know everything about the farm. I am not a shrinking violet, Mr Atkinson.’ Amy pulled her skirt up as she climbed the sandstone steps into the farmhouse. Its name sounded grander than the abode looked. ‘Ragged Hall’ had conjured up an image of a grand house, in Danny’s mind, but instead it was a long, rambling farmhouse that had been built centuries before, by local labourers. The lead-paned mullion windows were framed by rambling roses, which hid the masonry and the fact that the stonework underneath needed some repair. And Danny couldn’t help but notice that a slate had slipped from the roof, probably in the late spring storms, and had not been replaced. It was a pity, he thought, that Bill Brown had no son to help with the repairs.
