‘June? That’s only two months away! Three if it’s the end o’ June. You’re cutting things fine, aren’t ye, Will?’
‘None of us knew. I told you, Emmie was as innocent as a child.’ He smiled faintly and not without pleasure as he remembered how trustingly Emma had lain in his arms up there on the top of the Torr.
‘Set her cap at the boss’s son for all, though, didn’t she?’ Drew said.
‘No, she didn’t do that. She’s not that sort. She’s been at Bonnybrae since she left school when she was fourteen. I hadna meant to do her any harm.’ He flushed slightly. ‘To tell the truth, I hadn’t thought it was so easy to get pregnant.’
‘I expect they all say that,’ Drew said.
‘It was fate, if you believe in such things.’ William explained about being caught out by the moorland mist coming down.
‘We had to spend the night up on the Torr. It seemed natural enough to cuddle close to keep each other warm. One thing led to another.’ He shrugged.
‘I see …’ Drew murmured. He was silent for a while then, ‘You’re sure you want to marry her? I mean it’s not as though you’re in love. Will she make a suitable wife?’
‘I’m sure she will,’ William said defensively. ‘I don’t know what love is but I like Emmie better than any other girl I know.’ Drew hid a smile. ‘She’s a good worker and she can do anything in the house and dairy. She can read and write and she’s thrifty.’ He hesitated. ‘Maggie and Jim like her. They think Mother treated her too harshly. They think we shall do well together.’
‘Mmm, well, if Maggie approves I don’t think there’s much to worry about. She was always a good judge and a sensible woman, or so my mother reckoned. She felt Maggie was wasted staying at home to look after your mother instead of getting a home and husband of her own.’
‘I agree, but she’s terribly loyal to the parents. Mother has a subtle way of binding Maggie to her. Jim has no plans to take a wife of his own. He’ll see Maggie is all right.’
‘Well, Annie will be pleased if you stay in this area, and so shall I. I wish I’d known earlier. There was a grand big farm to let on this estate and the factor is a fair man. They don’t call them factors down here, though. He’s known as the land agent.’
‘Aye, well, I’m not expecting it to be easy now that I don’t have Father to speak to the laird for me. Most of the farms go to the families of existing tenants in our area.’
They turned off the road down a short track and into the farm yard. Almost immediately the door opened and Annie ran out to greet them, accompanied by three fair-haired children, so like Drew there was no doubt he was their father. For the first time William wondered what his child would be like. It was a sobering thought. He hoped Emma was being well looked after. He ought to have insisted on going to see her. Maybe he should have brought her with him, but where would they have lived? He had no place to offer a wife yet. An awful thought struck him as he saw the tears in Annie’s eyes at the sight of someone from home. Maybe Emma wouldn’t want to marry him? Maybe she wouldn’t want to move so far from her family. He felt a pang at the thought of moving down here and never seeing her again. He couldn’t let that happen.
Seven
Nearly three weeks had passed since Bert had taken Emma to stay with his brother and still they had not told her brothers what had happened. The weather was typical April showers, and Richard decided he would walk up the glen to meet his sister. He looked forward to her cheery presence at home.
‘This is her day off, isn’t it?’ he said, seeing his mother and father exchanging anxious looks.
‘We canna keep it frae them any longer,’ Eliza said and burst into tears. It was something she was doing too often since Emma had gone to stay with Vera. It had grieved her terribly when she got the reply to her letter, using the same envelope and the same paper, telling her Vera had insisted on reading her letter and had made Emma wait until evening before she handed it over.
‘Mother? What’s wrong?’ Richard asked with concern. ‘Ye’ve looked pale for weeks now and I noticed you never seem to eat a proper meal with us. What is it?’
‘All right, I’ll tell you what’s wrong,’ his father said gruffly. He hated to see his wife so upset but he thought he’d acted for the best for all of them, including Emma, by sending her away until the baby had been born and taken to the orphanage. ‘I was trying to avoid a scandal,’ he finished when he had explained, ‘especially for you laddies when you live in the village and plan to marry decent lassies.’
‘Emma, expecting a bairn? But why didn’t ye tell us? Who is the father?’ Richard demanded angrily. ‘I’ll kill him for doing this tae our wee Emmie! She’s no more than a bairn …’
‘Maybe she’s a bairn in your eyes, laddie,’ his mother sighed, ‘but she’s seventeen, a young woman. I should have warned her …’
‘Who is he?’
‘She willna tell us,’ Bert Greig said unhappily. ‘I didna want to send her away, specially to that whining slut, Vera. I did it for your sakes—’
‘Our sakes, Father?’ Davy interrupted indignantly.
‘Aye, ye dinna think the minister will want ye walking out wi’ his lassie if he hears your sister has brought shame on to the family, d’ye?’
‘If he has the milk o’ human kindness that he preaches about he’ll know Emmie needs help, not blame,’ he said with quiet conviction.
His mother stared at him. ‘He’ll not want his lassie marrying into a family like ours though, Davy, and we don’t want you to suffer.’
‘Suffer?’ Joe joined in with a harsh laugh. ‘It’s the fellow who has done this to Emma who needs to suffer.’
‘We don’t know who he is so we think he must be married already,’ his father growled.
‘S-so your father says the baby will have to b-be taken to the nuns as soon as it’s born,’ Eliza said and broke into another storm of weeping. She had been knitting tiny garments in secret and she wept over every one.
‘Oh Father, you canna mean it?’ Davy said. ‘It’ll break Emma’s heart if you give away her baby.’
‘What else can I do?’ his father demanded. ‘She’ll need to find work and how will she do that with a bairn to care for? Her life’s ruined.’
‘We’ll all give a bit more money to help keep Emma and the bairn until she gets on her feet,’ Richard said.
‘Oh aye, and what d’ye think your ain lassie will say to that and you saving up to get a nest o’ your ain?’ his father demanded. Richard scowled but he knew it was true. He did want to get married and he and Lily had been tempted recently to do what Emma had apparently done.
‘Leave it for now,’ Eliza said wearily. ‘I’ve written to Emma again this week. I sent her a sheet of paper and an envelope this time so maybe she’ll send a reply. I have to be careful what I write now I know Vera reads her letters.’
‘I don’t like it,’ Joe said belligerently. ‘I’ve a good mind to travel up there and bring her back.’
William would not have been human if he had not appreciated Drew’s warm welcome and the fuss which Annie made of him, especially when he was feeling rejected by his own parents. There was no doubt they were pleased to see him.
‘Drew’s mother has visited us once. She stayed for a fortnight and even then she was homesick,’ Annie said, ‘otherwise we havena seen anyone from Ayrshire.’
Drew must have told her of his plans to settle in Yorkshire after they retired to bed because the following morning, she was full of enthusiasm to get him settled as near to Blaketop farm as possible. In the days that followed, she plied him with questions about the folks back home but most of all she wanted to know about Emma. Her questions made William realize how little he knew about Emma as a person in her own right. He knew she was as innocent and genuine as a child in comparison to women like Eva McGuire, and the thought made his heart ache for her, wondering where her parents had sent her and if she was happy.
He wondered how they would get on together
living as man and wife, sharing the same home, the intimacy of sharing the same bed. He recalled her soft, yielding young body and that prospect was a welcome one. He had seen Emma every day for three years but living together as man and wife would be almost like marrying a stranger. What if Emma felt the same? Was that the reason she had refused to tell her parents he was the father of her child? Why, oh why, hadn’t she confided in him? Surely they could have worked out a solution?
It troubled him that Emma might not want to marry him, especially now it would mean moving so far from her family. His parents had made it clear he was on his own now. His father had been fair about giving him his share of capital but that was not the same help as he would have got if he had rented a farm near Bonnybrae. He knew his mother wanted him out of the area where he had been born and reared. He had wanted to be independent but he had never envisaged it like this. He thought it would be better for Emmie’s sake, if he gave the impression they were already married. He sought Annie’s advice.
‘I think you’re wise,’ she agreed gravely. ‘If you and Emma are to set up as tenants and you are expecting her to help you with the milking and dairy work, and possibly a man to lodge with you, then she will need a maid to help when she has a baby to care for. It will be hard enough, turning her whole life upside down. It’s essential she should have respect from the men and maids you employ. People thrive on gossip. What would they say if they discovered Emmie had been your mother’s maid and forced you into marriage—’
‘She isn’t forcing me into anything,’ William interrupted. ‘We haven’t even had a chance to discuss our situation. Mother got her out of the house with all speed and her parents whisked her away to God knows where. We never had a chance to talk. Now I’m banished down here.’
‘Whatever way things happened, it wouldn’t help your image either, William, handsome fellow though you are,’ Annie said with a smile.
‘I know.’ William sighed heavily. ‘Mother always claimed you had a wise head, Annie. My parents consider that I’ve shamed them but perhaps they think it will be easier for me to start a new life down here, but for all her moralizing, Mother doesn’t want me to marry Emmie, even though she must see it is the decent thing to do.’
‘I’m flattered if Aunt Mary thinks I’m wise. She never gave praise lightly. I suppose it’s the religion and the way she was brought up. Religious people can be very cruel sometimes, though. You must follow your own conscience, William, and do what you think is best for both you and Emma, as well as the baby.’
‘I know marrying Emma will be the best thing for all of us,’ he said firmly. ‘Mother hates scandal so much she’s not thinking clearly.’
He decided to write to Maggie without delay and ask her to send Emma’s address. He would ask her to mention the possibility of marriage and living in Yorkshire, then it would not be such a shock to Emma when she received his own letter. He and Drew had an appointment at the estate office with Sir Reginald Wilton’s land agent but he vowed to write directly when they returned.
William had always been impatient to make things happen once he had made up his mind, so he was bitterly disappointed when the land agent informed them that there was no prospect of any of the farms on the estate falling vacant by Michaelmas, but there was a possibility of a small farm being to let by Lady Day as the tenant was in poor health and he had no family.
‘Nothing until March 1899?’ William repeated with a sinking heart.
‘That’s right. I’m sorry, Mr Sinclair, because if you’re as good a farmer as your cousin here, I would have welcomed you as a tenant. If I hear of any farms on other estates around here, I’ll ride over to Blakemore and tell Mr Kerr. Meanwhile, if you’re looking for temporary work, we are needing a man to help with the dairy herd here at the Mains. One of the men was injured by a bull last week. He hopes to return to work in a few weeks. He is a good worker and he has a young family so we’re leaving him in his cottage until we see how he recovers. You would need to sleep in the loft above the stable with two other single men but you would be well-fed in the Mains kitchens. The cook is excellent and Sir Reginald doesn’t grudge his men their food if they work well.’
‘Thank you,’ William said. He didn’t relish the idea of sleeping in a loft or sharing it with two strangers. He grimaced wryly. He could imagine his father saying it would be a lesson to him. ‘I shall have to earn my living one way or another. Can I let you know?’
‘Don’t delay too long. The foreman would prefer an experienced man but he needs someone now. He has ten acres of turnips to hoe and sheep to sheer and it will be hay time before long. He can’t spare the other men to help with the cows. In fact, if you have experience in sheep shearing you’d be doubly welcome. You would be paid extra for work outside the dairy. We have three women who churn the butter and make the cheese so they do all the washing up around the dairy. You would be doing the milking, helping with calving cows, feeding calves. I expect you know what’s involved.’
William felt despondent when he sat down to write a letter to Maggie but he asked her to broach the subject of marriage and moving to Yorkshire with Emma.
He asked after Jim and his father and how things were going on the farm but he felt sick at heart when he thought of them all in their familiar surroundings. Surely creating a baby out of wedlock was not the criminal act his parents seemed to think. He wondered how Emma was coping. She had been sent away from her family too and it was all his fault. His heart ached for her.
As Eliza Greig had hoped, Emma sounded more cheerful when her next letter arrived. She wrote about the friendly postman and how he kept her letters secret so Vera wouldn’t see them. She told them his wife had loaned her some knitting needles and sent a hank of lemon-coloured wool.
I sat Peter down and showed him how to hold the wool in his hands, as we used to do for you, so I could wind it into a ball. Can you believe, none of the children had ever done that before. Aunt Vera never knits or darns. Miss Yates at the school has given Milly some thick needles and a ball of wool so that I can teach her to knit.
I had a lovely letter from Maggie Sinclair. Her mother has been ill and she’s still not very strong. I do miss Bonnybrae and all the animals and Maggie. She says William has travelled all the way to Yorkshire on the train to visit his cousin.
Emma had stopped writing there and chewed the end of her pencil for a long time. In the end, she didn’t tell her parents Maggie had hinted that William would come to get her and the baby. If only he would, she thought with longing. She assumed Maggie meant William would take her back to Bonnybrae as a maid again, especially when Maggie had so much extra work to do caring for Mrs Sinclair. But would she be able to keep her baby there? She could never let any of them take her child from her. She wondered when he was due to return from his travels. It never occurred to her that William planned to ask her to marry him and settle in Yorkshire.
As time passed Richard, Davy and Joe urged their father to bring Emma home to have the baby. They knew it was what their mother wanted. She didn’t trust Aunt Vera to look after their sister. After weeks of family discussions Bert agreed. Jubilantly, Eliza wrote to tell Emma her father would come to collect her the first Saturday in June. Emma was so overjoyed when she received the news that she blurted it out to her aunt and uncle.
‘How do’ ye know that?’ Vera demanded. ‘I never saw the postman here with any letters.’ Emma flushed guiltily. In her excitement she had forgotten about keeping her letters a secret.
‘H-he saw me hanging the washing and he handed it over the garden wall,’ she said.
‘Oh, aye? Same as he did with the wool, eh? If you ask me you’re too friendly with yon postman.’
‘Oh for goodness sake, Vera,’ Dick muttered in exasperation. ‘Rab Craig is old enough to be Emma’s father, if not her grand-father. He and his wife were only being kind to the lassie.’
‘You’re a man. Ye dinna ken anything,’ Vera scorned. ‘She’s wicked where there’s men. She’d h
ave been making sheep’s eyes at you if ye hadna been her uncle.’
‘You do talk rubbish,’ Dick said, and stomped out of the cottage and down the garden to shut himself in the closet. Emma had often heard him say it was the only place he could get peace when Aunt Vera started to nag. Vera’s eyes narrowed and her mouth thinned.
‘Tomorrow you’ll clean out the loft and move the boys’ mattress up there. You’ll need the bedroom to birth the bairn, whatever your mother has written in her letter.’
‘But Father is coming to take me home before the baby is born. I’ll not need it.’
‘If he comes,’ Vera laughed harshly, ‘and if the baby waits that long.’
She eyed Emma’s bulging stomach spitefully. ‘He told us to get the bairn away to the nuns as soon as it’s born.’
The change of plan had come as a surprise to Vera and she was not pleased. She hadn’t wanted Emma in her house but now that she would be leaving, she realized how much of the work she did each day. She was determined to get as much out of her as she could before she left. Although the loft had once been used as a bedroom by the sons of the previous occupants, Vera had never cleaned it since she and Dick moved into the cottage when they married.
The following morning, she asked Dick to put up the wooden step ladder before he went to work.
‘It’s time the boys slept up there away frae Milly,’ she said.
‘Surely there’s no hurry to separate them yet,’ Dick protested, ‘Milly is only nine and Peter isna five yet.’
‘Milly will be ten soon. Anyway I dinna believe that brother o’ yours will come. He insisted we get rid o’ the bairn as soon as it was born so that his precious Emma wouldna be upset. Look at the size o’ her. You mark my words, she’ll be here for the birthing.’
‘Bert will come if he says will,’ Dick said. ‘He must have changed his mind about sending the babe away. After all, it will be his first grand bairn and it would break Emma’s heart to give it away. You can see how good she is with our three rascals.’
Moorland Mist Page 8
