by Diane Allen
‘Oh, my baby girl, I’m losing you today. What am I going to do? This old house is going to be so quiet without you. Your father prefers his sheep to me. I’ll have no one to talk to.’ Betty wiped a tear away from her eye and sniffed into her handkerchief.
‘Oh, Mother, you will be fine. You’ll have grandchildren – more than you can cope with, between my sister and me, or at least I hope so.’ Harriet hugged her mother as she kept sobbing.
‘Our Danny, a father – it doesn’t bear thinking about. He can’t even look after himself.’ Isabelle stepped into her dress and pulled the bodice up onto her shoulders. ‘Can you help me fasten this, please, Mrs Armstrong?’ She turned her back to Betty, who dropped her hanky as she struggled with the laces.
‘Oh my Lord, I don’t think I can pick up my hanky, my corsets are so tight,’ she gasped, as she tried to bend down to retrieve it. ‘Pride is a terrible sin, especially when it doesn’t let you bend.’ Betty sat down in a chair and laughed at herself for being such a proud and stupid old woman. ‘I should leave the high fashion to you two – you’ve the figures to get away with it. I just don’t know if I’m coming or going: tears one minute and laughing the next. I’m just a silly old fool.’
Isabelle looked at Harriet and herself in the mirror. ‘I hope, Harriet, this is the happiest day of your life, and I hope our Danny makes you happy.’ She turned and hugged her sister-in-law, whom she had come to love.
‘Thank you, Isabelle, you have been so kind and you deserve a good man of your own. I hope your Mr Fox is the man for you. He certainly seems more than interested, seeing how many times he visits the shop and invites you for tea every week.’ Harriet squeezed her back.
‘Oh, you girls, stop it or you’ll make me cry again. I really don’t know whether I’m coming or going,’ Betty sighed.
The sweat was running down Ruby’s brow as she brushed the endless slices of bread with melted butter and patted them into the sides of eighty-five individual pudding moulds for her Apple Charlotte pudding. ‘Eve, have you not finished those potatoes yet? You are going to be late with putting them on. Thank heavens we peeled the Brussels last night.’
The whole kitchen smelled of roasting mutton and was like a hive of busy bees, with all the manor staff occupied with extra jobs, and the additional maids from the Craven Heifer going back and forth.
‘Chop it finer, lass, then add a cupful more of sugar to it. The last thing you want is a big leaf of unchewable mint in your sauce.’ Ruby watched as one of the helpers from the Craven Heifer followed her instructions. The lass had no idea how to use a knife, and Ruby realized she’d have been better doing the job herself.
‘The dining room’s set. The main table looks lovely; the little bunches of primroses and violets that Jethro picked look perfect on the smaller tables. I don’t know where he managed to find that many, at this time of year.’ Mazy smiled. ‘What do you want me to do next?’
‘He’s half-gypsy, is that Jethro of yours. He knows the countryside and its ways. I hope you know what you are taking on, when you wed him, for he’ll take some taming. Just take over from this lass and finish off the mint sauce, else I’ll still be waiting for it when the day’s done.’ Ruby ordered the lass who was making the mint sauce over to the sink, to deal with the washing up, which was growing by the minute.
‘Back to where you started: making mint sauce. I always remember Mrs Batty watching you when you first came.’ Mazy laughed while remembering a timid Ruby making perfect mint sauce; and now she was running the kitchen.
‘Aye, at this moment in time I wish I was back there, and not in charge of the whole kitchen. Be careful what you wish for – that’s my advice.’
‘Oh, I got my wish when Jethro asked me to marry him. I can’t wait for our wedding. Although it will be nowhere as grand as this. Just a few friends. You’ll be invited, Ruby.’
‘That’s what I mean: be careful what you wish for. One morning you’ll wake up and find yourself sharing your bed with a horse, knowing Jethro – you’ll never tame him. He’s a grand lad, but he’s a law unto himself.’
Mazy poured her stewed apples and lemon zest into her bread moulds, then leaned back for a second, before placing the circles of buttered bread on top, to seal the puddings ready for baking.
‘I don’t want to tame him. I like him just as he is. And now we’ve got a cottage to rent down at the locks, we’ll both have a home.’ Mazy cleaned her knife with her fingers and placed a portion of the chopped mint and sugar in each waiting silver sauce-boat, before adding the vinegar. ‘There, that’s done. I’ll make sure all’s going as it should upstairs.’ She hadn’t realized Ruby felt that way about Jethro, and the cook’s words had cut more sharply than the knife had cut through the mint. Perhaps she would never change her stable boy, but that was Jethro’s charm. He cared so much for Mrs and Mrs Atkinson that he’d got up straight after dawn to pick the bunches of primroses and violets, knowing that Mrs Atkinson loved them so much. He might be wild, but his heart was true; and that was all that mattered.
‘Oh, ma’am, you look absolutely beautiful.’ Lily stood back and admired her mistress. She looked stunning. Her pale-blue, tight-bodiced dress swept down to the floor, shimmering slightly in the sharp light. Pearls adorned her shoulders and neckline, telling of the richness and cost of the bespoke dress.
‘Thank you, Lily, that’s just what the mother of the groom wants to hear. You know you are not getting any younger, when your son gets married. Or should I say when Danny gets married, for I sometimes forget that he is not, technically, my son. Some days I forget I did not give birth to him, for I’ve always regarded him as mine.’
‘That’s just how it should be, my love.’ Archie put his hands on Charlotte’s pearl-covered shoulders and looked at his beautiful wife’s reflection in the dressing-table mirror as she threaded her drop earrings into her ears. ‘You look wonderful.’ He kissed her hand as she reached for his.
‘You don’t look too bad yourself, Mr Atkinson. Is Danny dressed and ready? I can hear that terrible Robert Knowles in the entrance hall. I presume Thomson will have served him with a drink. Why Danny had to choose him to be his best man, I don’t know. I’ve never quite forgiven him for giving Isabelle that kitten. I’m quite thankful Jethro has adopted it, and it seems to be more contented sleeping with him in the stables than in our Isabelle’s room. I knew it would soon be forgotten by our Isabelle.’
‘The Knowles are a good family. I once hoped that Robert would marry our Isabelle. It would have been convenient, when it came to the farms. I’ll go and see if Danny’s ready; he came up some time ago and insisted he’d get dressed himself, as Thomson is run off his feet preparing the wedding breakfast.’ Archie walked over to the bedroom door.
‘I keep telling you, we need a valet.’ Charlotte turned and looked at Archie, who appeared just as handsome as he did when she first met him, in his best suit.
‘Nonsense; if I can’t dress myself, I want shooting. Eh, Lily?’ Archie winked at Lily, who was busy putting her mistress’s belongings in order, ready for her return from the church.
‘I couldn’t possibly say, sir.’ Lily smiled.
‘Always the diplomat, Lily. No wonder you’ve lasted this long with my wife. Right, I’ll see Danny and go downstairs with him. You do look beautiful, my dear. I could marry you all over again.’ He looked at his wife and grinned.
‘Go on, you soft old fool, go and check on Danny – do your fatherly duties.’ Charlotte turned and looked at herself in the mirror again. She did look good for her age, there was no denying it.
‘Danny, it’s only me.’ Archie knocked on the door and then walked into his son’s bedroom. ‘What’s up, why are you only half-dressed? Here, let me fasten your necktie and help with your cufflinks. Your mother’s just played hell with me for not having a valet. Now, we don’t want her to win the argument.’ Archie picked up the necktie, stood in front of Danny and attempted to lift his starched collar for the necktie to be added
.
‘Stop it, Father. I can’t do this. I can’t go through with this marriage.’ Danny stared at his father, eye-to-eye. ‘I’m sorry; everyone is waiting for me, the manor’s staff are run off their feet because of me, and Harriet will be nearly setting off from High Winskill by now, but I just can’t do it. I really can’t marry her. I’m not ready.’
‘Not ready, lad! It’s only wedding-day nerves. I was the same. But I’d a shotgun aimed at my head by your grandfather, so that was a bit different.’ Archie sat down on Danny’s bed and looked up at his son. ‘Here – sit here. Folk can wait a while. Tell me what’s really worrying you?’ Archie looked at his lad. There was something more than wedding-day nerves going on in that blond head.
Danny put his head down and nearly sobbed as he confessed, ‘I think I’m the father of Amy Brown’s baby. I saw her in Settle at the hiring fair, and I’m sure it’s my bairn.’
‘Did she say you were?’ Archie scowled.
‘No, she never got the chance. Her husband yelled at her.’ Danny wiped his face and looked at his father, expecting him to lose his temper at his confession.
‘Well, you forget her, lad. You get your suit on, you put a smile on that miserable face of yours, and you go and marry that bonny lass who loves you. Amy Brown has made her bed, and now she must lie on it.’ Archie could have cursed his son, but that would have got him nowhere.
‘I can’t forget her. I’ve wronged her, Father,’ Danny sobbed.
‘Aye, and you are going to break another heart, if you are not careful. Not to mention your mother’s. Proud as punch she is – she’s so happy for you. Like I am. You are going to be good for Crummock and that bonny li’l lass who, as you say, will be making her way to the church now. Life’s all spread out in front of you, lad. Don’t throw it away because of nerves and Amy Brown.’ Archie patted his son on the back.
‘But the baby, Father!’ Danny dropped his head and rubbed his hands over it.
‘It might not be yours, lad. And Harriet need never know. It won’t be the first child that doesn’t know its true father.’ He hugged his son tightly. ‘I love you, lad. Life’s hard, but you’ve got a good one in Harriet; she will always be there for you, and you need love like that to walk through life together. Not the fleeting kind that burns too brightly and breaks your heart.’
Danny looked at his father and knew he was right. Harriet would always be there for him, and Amy was like the early-morning dew: beautiful and captivating for the fleeting moments she had loved him.
‘Now then, I’m going to leave you to get dressed, and I’ll wait for you downstairs with your mother. I know you’ll not let all those folk that love you down today. Else you wouldn’t be my lad.’ Archie stood up and listened intently to a sound that was drifting across from the village at Langcliffe. ‘Listen, they are your wedding bells – they are ringing for you and Harriet. Jethro’s all done up like a dog’s dinner, with the best team awaiting all of us. Now get a move on, and stop dwelling on things too much.’
Archie closed his son’s bedroom door behind him and said a silent prayer that Danny would see sense. He swore quietly to himself and wondered if he’d advised him correctly.
‘Is he ready? Has he not heard the bells have started ringing already? If Harriet’s on time, he’s going to be late,’ Charlotte called up from the hallway.
‘He just needed a hand with his necktie and cuffs – he’ll be down in a second,’ Archie bluffed, hoping that his words would be half-true.
‘Nice to see you, sir. It’s a grand day for Danny and Harriet’s wedding.’ Robert Knowles shook Archie’s hand as he balanced a drink of claret in the other.
‘Aye, the sun’s shining at least. I’m glad Thomson’s got you a drink, lad. You’ve been looked after, haven’t you?’ Archie stood in line with Robert and Charlotte and watched as his wife mouthed her concerns silently.
‘Yes, thank you, sir. I’ve just been telling Mrs Atkinson that I hope Danny will be my best man this autumn. He doesn’t know it yet, but I’m to marry Anne Whitfield from Austwick.’ Robert grinned.
‘One of the Whitfields that farm as you drive out to Wharfe? She’ll be a good match for you – your land will join up with theirs, like ours does.’ Archie smiled and sighed in relief as he heard the bedroom door close behind Danny, and his son appeared fully dressed on the stairs.
‘That’s right, sir. My father can’t believe his luck.’ Robert blushed.
‘No, neither can I, lad. We are both blessed with good sons, ones that do right by their family. Isn’t that right, Danny?’
‘If you say so, Father.’ Danny stood at the bottom of the stairs.
Charlotte walked over and kissed him on the cheek. ‘You look exceedingly handsome, Danny. You do know that you have all our love on this day, and that you will always have our support.’
‘Yes, Mother. I know that no matter what life throws at Harriet and me, we will always have you both there for us.’ He hugged Charlotte and held back his true feelings.
‘Danny, I need you as best man this autumn. Anne and I are to be married. It’s time to settle down and become a father. None of us are getting any younger, and you’ve set the trend, by marrying Harriet.’ Robert slapped Danny across the back as he felt for the wedding ring in his pocket.
‘Congratulations! I’m sure you’ll be the perfect couple, and it would be an honour to be your best man. Anne and Harriet will be neighbours, and that will be good, especially over the winter months when the days drag.’ Danny looked around him at his concerned parents and at the slightly drunk Robert. ‘I think we’d better get a move on. It would never do if I’m late and make poor Harriet worried.’
‘That’s it, lad, let’s go and get you wed. The church will be packed by now. And look, the sun is doing its best to fight the clouds away.’ Archie put his hand up to his face and looked at the spring sunshine that had been playing hide-and-seek with the clouds all morning. ‘It’s a day for celebration, and the sun is joining in. Besides, the smell coming from the kitchen is making me hungry, so the sooner we are back and sat around that dining table, the better.’
‘Archie, you are unbelievable! Come on, give me your hand up into the carriage. I want to look my best, and this dress creases easily.’ Charlotte stopped at the carriage and took Archie’s hand as Jethro opened the door.
‘You will always look perfect to me, my love.’ Archie winked and turned to Danny and Robert. ‘Remember: flattery will get you a long way with your women.’
‘All of you get in, and don’t listen to your father – he hasn’t got a clue about what a woman wants to hear. He just makes it up as he goes along,’ Charlotte laughed. ‘To the church, Jethro, and thank you for making the team look so grand.’
‘The church it is, ma’am.’ Jethro closed the carriage door and whipped his team into motion. It was a day of celebration, for Master Danny was getting married and had become a man.
Harriet, Isabelle and her father stood outside Langcliffe village church and listened to the organ music coming from within. Children gathered around the gate, waiting for guests to throw coppers to them after the wedding; and local women stood and nattered, gasping in awe as Harriet took her father’s arm to walk along the pathway up to the church’s doorway. They walked slowly and steadily up the hill and to the waiting vicar, who smiled at the bride and her attendants. As he did so, the sun broke out from behind a cloud, the rays falling on Harriet’s shimmering gown and making the crowd gasp at the beauty of it.
‘My veil’s alright, isn’t it?’ Harriet whispered as she felt it slightly with her hand, making sure the wreath of delicate flowers was still holding the fine embroidered lace in place.
‘You look perfect. Danny is so lucky,’ Isabelle whispered.
‘That he is. I just hope he realizes how much,’ Ted Armstrong whispered, as he watched the vicar walk down the aisle and signal to the organ player to start playing the wedding march. ‘Here we go, my lass. You are no longer mine from this
day onwards.’
The group walked slowly and steadily down the church aisle, smiling at the guests, who caught their breath at the beauty of the bride and her maid walking behind her.
Danny turned and looked at his bride-to-be. She was beautiful. How could he have doubted his marriage to her? It was the fleeting conversation when he met Amy Brown that had started his mind racing again. How miserable she had looked. He took Harriet’s hand and felt the love that flowed through her. A love that would always be there for him, as his father had said.
The vicar looked around his congregation and started the ceremony.
Harriet turned round and gave Isabelle her bouquet of lily-of-the-valley, which Jethro had force-grown for her wedding day. She smiled as she noticed James Fox in a pew towards the back of the church. It was a romance that was blossoming with every day. Isabelle had found her perfect man, just as she had.
‘Daniel Arthur Atkinson, do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife . . .’ The vicar’s words were like mystic muttering, as she heard Danny respond with an ‘I do.’
‘Harriet Margaret Armstrong, do you take this man . . .’ She could barely wait for the sentence to end, as she looked lovingly into Danny’s eyes, before answering, ‘I do.’ She was married to her Danny, for now and always.
‘Well, that’s them married.’ Archie stood on the church steps as he watched children scattering for the pennies that had been thrown, and the new couple kiss one another as people wished them well. ‘I almost thought he wasn’t going to go through with it.’ He put his arm through Charlotte’s. ‘We may have another wedding beckoning, by the looks of them two.’ He nodded towards James Fox and Isabelle, walking hand-in-hand through the budding spring churchyard.
‘I knew, as soon as I saw him in the shop, that he was right for Isabelle. I do hope Harriet and Danny will be happy together. I misjudged Harriet at first. I shouldn’t have been so hasty; she’ll be good for the family.’ Charlotte held Archie’s arm tightly. ‘Rosie would have been proud of Danny today – she’ll be looking down and watching us all.’
