Daughter of the River

by Daughter of the River (retail) (epub)

  The agent withdrew, the light of optimism shining in his eyes.

  ‘I don’t know about you, but I think the shop opposite the station seems the most likely property,’ said Cal, after the man had gone. ‘However, let’s not make up our minds too hastily. We can discuss it over luncheon. Where shall we go? The Royal serves a decent meal.’

  Maddy came to an abrupt halt. ‘You mean us to go to a hotel to eat?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Together?’

  ‘I certainly don’t intend us to sit at separate tables. Why, what’s wrong?’

  ‘If you have no objection, Mr Whitcomb, I would prefer to go straight back to work,’ said Maddy in some agitation. News that they had been seen dining together would definitely give the gossips something to talk about.

  ‘When you call me Mr Whitcomb in such a way I know something is wrong. Can’t we discuss it over our food, along with the other matters?’

  ‘I would prefer to discuss it on the road to Totnes, if you please,’ Maddy insisted.

  ‘Oh, well, if we must we must, I suppose,’ he said reluctantly.

  Somehow Maddy could not bring herself to approach the subject until they had left the houses of Paignton behind them. In her head she tried to work out the right words with which to approach the awkward topic, and all the while the country miles were slipping past.

  ‘If you don’t say something soon we’ll be in Totnes,’ remarked Cal. ‘Are you going to tell me what’s troubling you before we get there, or will I be obliged to drive round and round?’

  ‘People are talking,’ Maddy blurted out.

  ‘I believe they are,’ said Cal. ‘It’s a characteristic of the human race.’

  ‘Please don’t joke. This is difficult enough for me as it is.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Please tell me what people are talking about.’

  ‘Us!’

  ‘Us?’ He looked at her with incredulity. ‘What do you mean, us?’

  ‘You and me! Folks are noticing that we spend a lot of time together and that often we’re alone. My father’s growing upset about my good name and says it must stop, so if we could do something about it – check the accounts in the office instead of the house, say, and things like that. That’s why I couldn’t eat with you in Paignton, it would have been the last straw, and already my father’s threatening to come up to see you.’ As the gig’s wheels had been speeding on the downhill slope, Maddy’s words had gathered momentum.

  Fortunately Cal seemed to get the gist of her garbled speech. ‘I see,’ he said, taking the bay in hand and slowing the horse to a steadier pace. ‘Your father is not suggesting that you leave my employment, I hope?’ he said at last.

  ‘Oh no.’

  ‘He just wants me to provide a chaperon of some sort when we are together?’

  ‘Or arrange for us not to be together – at least, not alone.’

  ‘I see,’ said Cal, and he grimaced. ‘That’s going to be difficult, considering our future plans for expansion. I hadn’t considered it, but we will certainly be in each other’s company frequently. It was foolish of me not to have given your reputation more careful thought.’

  ‘I’m being a nuisance. I’m sorry,’ said Maddy quietly.

  ‘Pray do not go missish on me. It will help nothing,’ said Cal brusquely. ‘You are not being a nuisance, there’s no reason for you to be sorry. I’ve been treating you like a man when, clearly, you are not.’ He lapsed into silence again, his brow furrowed in concentration.

  ‘I know!’ he exclaimed at last. The perfect solution! We will get married!’

  ‘What?’

  They were approaching the turning for the last hill into Totnes.

  ‘Drat!’ declared Cal. ‘We’re almost there and we need more time to talk. We’ll take a diversion, if you’ve no objections.’

  Numbly, Maddy shook her head as, instead of taking the left turn to the town, he swung the gig past the tollhouse and towards open countryside and the village of Berry Pomeroy.

  ‘Tell me, what is your opinion of my scheme?’ he demanded, the manoeuvre completed.

  ‘I think it’s preposterous,’ retorted Maddy.

  ‘No, it’s not,’ was the calm reply. ‘You haven’t given it due consideration. Think on it. It’s the ideal solution. No need for chaperons trailing after us, no cause for the village gossips to be busy. We can carry on working together, disturbing no one, not even your father.’

  ‘What about Miss Hannaford?’

  For a moment Cal looked blank. ‘She has nothing to do with it,’ he said impatiently.

  ‘The village gossips think otherwise, they have you about to be married.’

  ‘They are about as accurate in that as they are in their tale that you and I are having an illicit affair. Miss Hannaford is my mother’s idea of a good match for me, and I am her mother’s idea of a good catch for her. I don’t recall them consulting either Miss Hannaford or myself for our views. She is a pleasant girl, but her heart is set upon London and lively society. The last thing she wants is to be a farmer’s wife.’

  ‘Whereas I would not object?’

  ‘You wouldn’t be just a wife, you would be my business partner.’

  ‘Nevertheless, you can’t propose to marry me just like that.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because… because…’ Maddy floundered. ‘Because you must make an advantageous marriage and I’ve neither money nor expectations.’

  ‘There are different sorts of advantageous marriages. True, it would have been useful to have wedded money, but the longer I consider it the more I think marriage to you would be most beneficial. You have an excellent head for business, you work extremely hard, and you have a flair for coming up with excellent ideas. Look at how Oakwood Farm Cider has expanded since you’ve become involved. An aptitude such as yours is worth more than any dowry. Also, we get along together very well. You would be an ideal wife for me.’

  ‘And what of me?’ It took every bit of Maddy’s self-control to keep the plaintive note from her voice.

  ‘Your advantages would be mainly financial. As a business partner rather than an employee you would share in the prosperity gained by making Oakwood a thriving business. I’d make sure you had a proper marriage settlement, legally drawn up, ensuring you the full financial entitlement that is your due. You would have security until the end of your days – no small benefit for anyone. Moreover, you would be a married woman. I mean no disrespect, but it’s a regrettable fact of life that spinsters are looked down upon socially, no matter what their personal abilities. Marriage to me would save you from such a fate. And, casting undue modesty aside, I venture to say that to be Mrs Whitcomb of Oakwood Farm is to be a person of some standing in the neighbourhood.’

  ‘There already is a Mrs Whitcomb of Oakwood Farm,’ Maddy pointed out.

  ‘Ah!’ For the first time Cal’s self-confidence faltered. ‘She knows I must marry sometime.’

  ‘But to a Shillabeer? If you took me home as your bride, there would be the Devil to pay.’

  ‘There would,’ agreed Cal. ‘But I am prepared to pay him if you are.’

  Maddy had given up any hopes of receiving an offer of marriage from anyone, yet here was Cal asking her to be his wife. Strangely enough, her immediate reaction was one of disappointment. Disappointment for what? That Cal had not wooed her with pretty speeches? That he had not chosen a moonlit garden to make his proposal, and had failed to go down on one knee? How foolish could she get? This was no romantic declaration, this was a business proposition, and as such she had to admit he had set out his terms fairly and squarely. Yet the regret remained with her.

  Cal’s thoughts must have been running along similar lines, for he said ruefully, ‘As a proposal that was an extremely cold-hearted affair, wasn’t it? Please forgive me. Even for a first attempt that was pretty abysmal. I’ll admit that expedience was the spur which prompted me to ask you to marry me. It would be mutually beneficial, but t
here was more to my offer than mere business. I have come to admire and respect you, Maddy, and we are never bored in each other’s company. The idea of sharing my life with you is a pleasing one. This would be no love match, we both know that, but all in all I think we stand a tolerable chance of dealing happily together.’

  A tolerable chance of dealing happily together… Unbidden, thoughts of Patrick came into Maddy’s mind, of what it felt like to harbour joyous dreams of a marriage that was a love match. Swiftly she thrust such treacherous thoughts from her. Those dreams were irrelevant. It was Cal’s offer, here in the present, that she must consider.

  ‘Your proposal was completely unexpected,’ Maddy said.

  ‘I believe that is what young ladies say in the best novels,’ said Cal. The sudden humour eased the tension that had been building up between them.

  ‘I’m glad I didn’t disappoint you.’ Maddy found herself relaxing and her thoughts beginning to clear. ‘You certainly put forward an excellent case for me becoming your wife. But I am sure that, with a modicum of concentration, we could find ways of protecting my good name to the satisfaction of my father without going to such extremes.’

  ‘No, we couldn’t!’ said Cal emphatically. ‘There is one thing I am determined upon and that is that Oakwood is going to progress. I have many plans and ambitions for the future, and with you to help me I am confident we will succeed. I would be less confident, however, if at every turn we had to stop for your chaperon to catch up, or to obtain permission from your father for some move or other. Marriage is the best, the only, solution.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Even to her own ears Maddy did not sound convinced.

  ‘I don’t expect an immediate reply,’ said Cal. ‘I accept that my proposal came out of the blue. Take your time, and think the matter over carefully.’

  ‘I will.’

  They had been bowling along, taking no heed of where they went. Maddy was quite surprised to find they were passing Berry Pomeroy church and its neighbouring farm. Something about the protective girdle of chestnut trees struck a familiar note. She feared they may have been driving round and round the same narrow lanes. Cal looked at her, and grinned.

  ‘I think the folk of Berry Pomeroy would know us again, don’t you?’ he said. ‘I’d better get you back to Totnes.’

  Maddy was glad they spoke little on the return road, for she had more than enough to occupy her thoughts. They were almost at the bridge crossing the Dart when Cal said suddenly, ‘You aren’t annoyed with me, are you? For proposing marriage, I mean.’

  ‘Of course not. Whatever I decide I shall always regard it as a compliment.’

  ‘Good. I would hate anything to spoil things between us.’ His sigh of relief surprised her. Despite his outward self-assurance, Cal Whitcomb was not always as confident as he seemed. Maddy realised that there were many things she did not know about this man whom she might marry – and might not!

  That night, any hope of sleeping on the problem was a lost cause. Maddy remained steadfastly awake, pondering over the situation until it was a relief when dawn came and she had to get up.

  ‘You sickening for summat?’ asked Joan, noting her pale face and heavy eyes.

  ‘No, I’m fine, thanks,’ Maddy replied. ‘I’ve just got something on my mind.’

  Joan regarded her even more keenly. ‘If ’tis summat serious, you can always come to me, you knows that, don’t you, maid?’

  Maddy smiled, guessing the way her stepmother’s mind was working. ‘It’s not the sort of serious you’re meaning,’ she said. ‘And yes, I know you’d stand by me in trouble and I truly appreciate it. But, as I say, this isn’t trouble really. Simply something important that I’ve got to sort out for myself.’ Then she wondered if it might not be better to talk over Cal’s proposal with her stepmother, who could be relied upon to bring practical common sense to any situation. In the event, Joan did not wait to be asked.

  ‘If ’tis so important it have kept you awake all night then my advice be to make your mind up prompt, make un up good and proper, and don’t let yourself have no regrets. They long drawn out tangles, they wears out a body until you don’t know if you’m coming or going, and the decisions you makes in the end idn’t no better for all the chawing over.’

  Joan’s brisk, no-nonsense words were exactly what Maddy needed to hear. What point was there in humming and hawing? The advantages of the marriage she knew perfectly well. What were the disadvantages? Having to share a home with Mrs Whitcomb seemed to be the worst, and she felt that even that could be overcome. And of course there would be the inevitable difficulties of a loveless marriage. Nevertheless, it would be founded on mutual respect and interests. She could think of plenty of marriages that were based on far less yet seemed successful enough.

  If she did not wed Cal, what then? While she was working, her future would be agreeable enough, but as her father and Joan grew older, it would fall to her, as the unmarried daughter, to care for them in their old age. And what of her own old age? Who would there be to care for her? She had no wish to be a burden to Lew and Mollie, or to Charlie if he found a wife. Marriage to Cal would mean security, a comfortable life, status, and a thoroughly enjoyable way of life helping in the business. She would be acquiring a decent, considerate husband into the bargain. Many a woman had married for a fraction of such advantages. Thinking in those terms, she had no problem at all in making up her mind.

  Next day, Maddy greeted Cal with the words, ‘Yesterday you made me an offer. You made it on the spur of the moment and you probably regret it now. If you do, would you kindly say so?’

  ‘I regret nothing,’ declared Cal with some indignation. Then his face broke into a delighted smile. ‘Does that mean you agree to marry me?’

  Maddy was overwhelmed by a sudden shyness. ‘Yes,’ she said, almost inaudibly.

  They were in the storeroom at the shop. Again an unromantic venue, but the one place where they could talk privately.

  ‘I’m relieved you’ve been so quick in coming to a decision,’ said Cal, his face beaming. ‘I feared you would keep me on tenterhooks for ages. Would it be convenient for me to call upon your father tonight, to ask for your hand?’

  Mention of Jack introduced a snag.

  ‘I’m not convinced my father will give his consent.’

  ‘No? I thought he had grown more amenable towards us Whitcombs.’

  ‘He has, but I’m not sure it stretches as far as accepting one as a son-in-law.’

  ‘Hm…’ Cal looked thoughtful. ‘Might it not be a good idea to have a quiet word with your stepmother first? She always strikes me as a sensible woman. I fancy she wouldn’t disapprove of our marriage. It might be of help to have her forewarned and on our side when I come.’

  It was an excellent suggestion. She was glad that Cal had not suggested defying her father. Legally she was of age to do as she pleased, but Cal recognised and respected her strong family ties.

  ‘I’ll speak to Joan,’ she said. ‘Between us we’ll talk Father round.’

  Then I can come tonight?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Maddy felt she had to ask the next question. ‘When will you tell your mother?’

  ‘As soon as possible.’

  Maddy did not envy him. Whatever objections Jack might express, she felt that they would be mild compared to Mrs Whitcomb’s views.

  A silence fell upon the storeroom, one tinged with embarrassment.

  ‘Well,’ said Cal. ‘We’re betrothed, or as good as. It just needs your father’s consent. And there’s the ring! I’d forgotten about that. I have my Grandmother Whitcomb’s. It’s a pretty thing of chased gold and diamonds, but old-fashioned. No doubt you would like something modem.’

  ‘There is no need for a ring,’ said Maddy, flustered. ‘I wasn’t expecting anything like that. Let’s not bother with one.’

  ‘You know I already have a reputation as a skinflint. To have a fiancée without a ring would just confirm my meanness. You shall definitely ha
ve a ring. Whether you wear it or not is up to you.’

  ‘Then I think I would prefer your grandmother’s ring, if it will fit.’

  ‘We can soon have it altered if it does not.’ He seemed pleased at her choice, but still vaguely ill at ease. ‘There’s one more matter we mustn’t neglect,’ he said. Then he brushed her cheek with his lips. Straightening up he regarded her speculatively, all trace of awkwardness gone. ‘That was a pretty poor effort for the sealing of a betrothal. I can do better than that.’

  Grasping her about the waist, he pulled her closer and kissed her again, this time full on the lips. His kiss lacked the sweet tenderness of Patrick’s, yet there was an energy about it and a sense of enjoyment that she did not at all object to. In fact, she was somewhat startled to discover that she found it positively agreeable – which was just as well seeing that she had agreed to marry him.

  ‘I think there is room for improvement,’ Cal observed, as he gently released her. ‘But, God willing, we have many years ahead of us to achieve perfection.’ The way he was smiling at her confirmed that he, too, had found the experience far from displeasing. Painfully aware that her cheeks were flaming, Maddy smiled back. Suddenly he reached out and took her hand. ‘You’ll never regret your decision, I promise you that,’ he said, squeezing her fingers. Then his mood changed, and he gave a wry smile. ‘I think I must go and inform my mother that I am to become a married man.’ He released her hand. ‘I shall see you again this evening, at eight?’

  ‘At eight,’ agreed Maddy, already feeling nervous about the interview between him and her father.

  * * *

  Joan’s immediate reaction to the news betrayed far less astonishment than Maddy had expected. ‘You’m thinking of wedding Farmer Whitcomb, be you?’ she said calmly. ‘My, if that idn’t good news.’

  ‘You don’t seem surprised,’ protested Maddy.

  ‘I’ll think up a parcel of objections if that’s what’ll please you. But if you wants the truth, I’ve thought once or twice recently as you’d make a good pair. Mind, what your father’ll say about un I idn’t going to guess.’