‘You have told him so?’ Harriet queried.
‘He does not wish it, I know. Perhaps the child can help.’
‘How? He - he does not seek her company.’
‘She could read his news-sheets for him. His eyes are ageing and I think he might welcome that.’
Harriet pondered the idea. If he agreed, the master might appreciate what a bright and gracious girl his great-niece was, rather than think of her as a tiresome child to be tolerated at best. Her only misgiving was that she would have to supervise Olivia, and Harriet preferred to avoid the master. But, then, so did her charge.
‘This injury has taken its toll on your master’s health. He needs to change his ways.’ The apothecary had finished his toddy and stood up.
Harriet walked into the yard with him. He was not much younger than the master and used the mounting stone to climb onto his horse, then walked the animal carefully towards the hardened, rutted track. They were into December now and it would soon be dusk. A light covering of snow had dusted the hills and frozen puddles crackled underfoot. She pulled her woollen shawl close about her shoulders and went to the coal-house to collect another bucketful for the master’s bedchamber. They were well overdue the next cartload.
He was sitting at his desk in the window, wrapped in a heavy gentleman’s dressing robe with his Oriental slippers on his feet. The documents spread in front of him looked formal and legal to Harriet.
‘Sir?’ she ventured.
‘What is it?’ He sounded tetchy and she hesitated.
‘Mr Harvey has suggested that Olivia read you the news-sheets. ’
He growled, and began to shuffle and bundle the thick paper. Then he pushed it into a drawer, which he locked, and slid the key into his pocket. He placed a hand over his eyes and said, ‘Bring me the brandy.’
‘The news-sheets, sir?’
‘I said bring me the brandy.’
‘Very well, sir.’
Harriet returned promptly with Olivia, who was clutching a recent news-sheet, and a small bottle of rum with a glass on a tray that she placed on the desk.
‘What’s that?’
‘Rum, sir.’
‘I told you to fetch brandy,’ he shouted.
She jumped. ‘Mrs Cookson says there is none left.’
‘I don’t want that West Indies poison.’ He swept his arm across the desk and knocked the tray to the floor. The heavy glass bounced on the wooden boards but the cork was drawn on the rum and the dark liquid flowed out. ‘And get that child out of my sight.’
Harriet glanced at Olivia, who moved closer to her side. ‘The carter has not delivered, sir. Not since the - since you were injured. We are low on flour and sugar, too.’
‘I don’t care about your damned flour! Where is my brandy?’
She swallowed. ‘The carter told Mrs Cookson that none of the merchants in town will deliver until your accounts are settled.’
‘Damn them! Damn them all to hell! And damn that child, too.’
He staggered to his feet, wincing. Olivia stepped backwards and stumbled against the bed. Harriet did not know why the child was the target for so much of his venom, but she guessed it was to do with the documents he had been studying. Perhaps his responsibility to her had not been bequeathed with the means to pay for it.
She moved forward and placed herself between him and her charge. ‘It is not the child’s fault, sir. If you will not take the rum, will you have one of Mr Harvey’s draughts? I believe there is a dose or two left.’ She held her breath, heard the news-sheet crumple and felt Olivia grasp the back of her skirt.
‘The laudanum? If there is no brandy it will have to do. Then get the child out of my chamber and tell Matthew to send for my lawyer. I will have money from somewhere. I will.’ He sat down heavily on a chair.
Harriet gestured with her head to Olivia, who hurried for the door. Then she mixed his sleeping draught quickly and handed it to him. So much for Mr Harvey’s recommendations, she thought.The master became angry at the least provocation, these days. She had tried his suggestion but was thankful he did not wish Olivia to read to him. Any item of news might set off one of his rages. Life at Hill Top House had taken a downward turn for all of them. She could endure his anger and the household economies for she had known much worse in her life and they were no hardship to her. Her only concern was for Olivia, who relied on her protection from a selfish and unpredictable guardian.
The child was everything to Harriet. She had worked hard to gain Olivia’s confidence, and intended to be worthy of it at all costs. But she worried when the master focused his anger on his ward and recalled his earlier threat about the asylum. She knew a little about wills and trusts and could only guess at the reason he continued to house Olivia under his roof. He certainly had no love for the child and she feared for both her own and Olivia’s future there.
Chapter 6
Jared found his mother in the drawing room, teaching his sisters some new music on the pianoforte. Josephina and Juliana were practising a duet while she stood behind them, nodding in time with the metronome. He listened until they had finished their piece, acknowledging that they played well.They sang well too, but parlour pursuits were not to his taste and he was glad he wasn’t a girl.
His mother turned and smiled. ‘Jared! you were up early this morning. I heard you moving about.’
‘I breakfasted with Father before he went to the forge.’
‘What were you doing in the attic?’
‘Just looking. There’s a pile of clothes and boots up there.’
‘You children have grown out of them so quickly. I am going to give them to the vicar’s wife for the church school.’
‘I could take them to Mexton.’
‘Mexton?’
‘For the miners’ families.’
His mother gazed at him steadily.‘Your father has told me that you went to the pit when the fighting broke out a few weeks ago. We are not responsible for your uncle Hesley’s difficulties. It’s not our fault.’
‘It’s not the miners’ fault either. Did you know the old farmhouse there had been leased?’
‘I had heard. The vicar’s wife told me a brother and sister had moved in. Dissenters, she said.’
‘Oh, I didn’t know he had a sister.’
‘You’ve met him?’
‘Mr Holmes? Yes. He helped the constable calm things down. He’s running a mission there for the miners’ families.’
‘I see.You’re suggesting I give your outgrown things to Mr Holmes?’
‘I can borrow a handcart from the forge and take them there on Sunday.’
‘Instead of coming to church with us?’
Church bored Jared and his mother knew it. His father didn’t mind when he found something else to do, but his mother did.
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘As long as your father has no objection. It will be a long, cold winter for all of us this year.’
Jared approached a group of lads on the rough ground outside the old barn.They were throwing stones into the air and hitting them with a stick across the scrubby pasture. Any that were missed or landed short were greeted with derisory laughter. He had no doubt that they were miners’ children from Mexton, most of them old enough to be working down the pit with their fathers.
He dropped the handles of his cart and wiped his brow with the back of his hand.
‘Who are you?’ one asked.
‘My name’s Jared. I’m looking for Mr Holmes.’
‘Oh, aye? ’E’s in t’ barn ovver theer. What you got in t’ cart?’ The lad lifted the edge of the sacking and peered.
‘They’re for the mission.’
‘We’ll push it fer yer, if yer like.’
‘Thank you. It was heavy-going uphill.’
‘Where yer from, then?
‘The town. Are you Mexton folk?’
‘How did yer guess?’ They laughed.
The wide wooden doors of the barn were open, throwing a shaft of li
ght into the dim interior. Jared recognized Tobias Holmes, sitting on a stack of straw, talking intently to a young woman next to him.
Her relaxed bearing and easy manner intrigued Jared, and her youthful freshness was in stark contrast to Tobias’s sober presence. She wore a plain dark gown, which showed a frill of white petticoat where the skirt was caught up on her makeshift seat. She hugged a brown shawl round her shoulders. Her fair hair was not coiled up as his sisters’ was, but tied back loosely, only half covered by an old bonnet fastened with a frayed ribbon.
Even though it was Sunday, Tobias was dressed in tough country clothes, moleskin trousers and waistcoat, a thick jacket and a scarf, for the weather was cold. He seemed unaware of the young woman’s pretty charm, but she, Jared thought, was wholly engaged by his conversation. He took off his cap, shoved it into his pocket and straightened his back. ‘Tobias?’
‘Jared! What a pleasant surprise.’ The older man stood up to greet him.
‘My mother has sent some things for your mission,’ he explained. ‘They’re outside.’
‘They will be most welcome.We’ll take them to Mrs Wilton in the village. Come with us as far as the farmhouse.’
Jared’s eyes lingered on the woman. She was very pretty.
Tobias smiled. ‘This is Sarah Wilton, one of my Sunday-school teachers. Sarah, Jared is the young man I told you about. He helped me when the feed wagon caught light at the protest.’
Jared bowed politely as she slid off the straw, showing more petticoat and a shapely stockinged leg above a brown boot. She acknowledged him with a bob and seemed to have none of the coy shyness shown by other girls he had met.
They walked together, behind the boys pushing the cart, towards the decaying building. Beyond it, scrubland gave way to spoil heaps, and between them a cluster of brick and slate terraces that housed the Mexton miners and their families. He tried to think of something to say that would impress his new friend.
Tobias opened the conversation.‘You’ve missed our meeting, but you are welcome to join us for some dinner.’
‘Dinner?’ He was thinking he should get home straight away.
‘It’s soup,’ Sarah explained, ‘in the farmhouse kitchen. You might as well because you’ll have to wait for the lads to bring your barrow back from me mam’s.’
He glanced ahead and noticed a straggle of young folk in the overgrown farmyard.A couple of the older lads were tucking in their shirts and combing their hair with their fingers.
‘There’s a pump round the other side,’ she added. ‘I’m off to help in the kitchen.’
She disappeared, and he was glad of the chance to sluice the dust from his hands and face. A cloth for drying was slung over the pump handle. It was grubby and damp, but he flicked it over his coat and boots and raked at his hair as he had seen the others do.
Tobias was waiting for him with two thick pottery mugs of soup. A hunk of bread was balanced on each. He handed one to him. ‘It was generous of your mother to send us the clothes. Are you from a coal-mining family?’
‘Not exactly. I’m starting work at Swinborough’s soon.’
‘Where?’
‘I’m not sure yet. My father’s arranging it.’
‘Well, if you are on this side of the town you are most welcome to join our meetings. I am trying to bring in a travelling preacher once a month and we have a Sunday school in the afternoon for the little ones.’
‘At which Sarah teaches?’
He nodded. ‘In the barn.’
‘Is Sarah from Mexton, then?’
‘Of course. Her father’s a collier.’
‘Oh!’ Jared faltered. ‘It’s just that, well, where did she do her learning?’
‘The pit manager’s wife taught one or two of the girls until she died. She lent them books to read, too. Now Sarah helps at the pithead.’
‘I see.’
‘I don’t think you do. She’s not a pithead lass. She’s a clerk.’
Jared was surprised. He didn’t know any offices in the town that had girls as clerks.
‘Her father paid for her lessons so she didn’t have to go down the pit like her mother. Now come and meet my sister, Anna. She set up the Sunday school and has her own mission on the other side of the Riding.’
The younger children were crowding through the back door of the old farmhouse. The older lads and lasses hung back in the yard, talking. Two of the girls had their arms firmly linked and a couple of the older boys stood to either side of them, effectively detaching them from the group. Jared smiled to himself. He knew what was on their minds.
Tobias said, ‘There’s bread and dripping inside. Would you like some?’
‘I must go home now.’
‘Well, the Wilton brothers aren’t back with your barrow yet and my sister is making tea to drink.’
‘Tea?’ Tea was dear to buy and his face must have shown surprise.
‘Don’t you like tea?’
‘Oh, yes. Does everybody have tea?’
‘The younger ones have barley water. We don’t drink ale.’
‘I’ll have some tea, then. Does the Wilton family live in the village?’
‘At the far side, down a lane. There’s a row of older cottages that used to be for farm workers.’
‘Are they all Dissenters over there?’
‘No, but Mr Wilton is.We live by the teachings of John Wesley.’
‘You’re not a minister, though?’
‘I went to America to consider it.’ Tobias gazed into the distance for a moment and muttered, half to himself, ‘But I found myself wanting.’
Jared was intrigued by this. ‘In what way?’
‘I should have married, but I did not. I went to America instead.’
‘And left behind a broken heart?’
‘It was my weakness, not hers.’
‘Weakness? If I may say so, sir, you are not making much sense.’
‘I took advantage of a fine young girl rather like Sarah but I did not marry her. I wished to become a minister first.’
‘So you left her?’ Jared was shocked to hear this.
‘She found another sweetheart and I thought that in America I would be away from the distractions of the flesh. I was wrong. The temptation over there was even greater.’
‘Another girl?’
‘God tested me and found me wanting.’
‘So you didn’t become a minister, after all.’
‘I came back to England a wiser man to serve my faith in other ways. I truly believe it was God’s will. When I returned Anna was - well, she needed me. Our parents had both passed on and I had not known her situation was so desperate. She was in very poor health.’
‘She is well now?’
‘The illness weakened her, but she is stronger now and runs her own mission. She is going there when this Sunday school is established.’ Tobias smiled suddenly, and said briskly, ‘Sarah will be leaving us soon as well. Anna has found her a place where she can learn to be a proper teacher.’
‘I see,’ Jared responded.
‘So, will you come in for tea?’
When Jared stepped into the kitchen he immediately felt at home. It was a big room with recently whitewashed walls and a cooking range in good condition. There were two bubbling kettles on swing hobs over the fire, and the youngsters had assembled themselves into a line around the table.
A grey-haired woman was pouring steaming barley water into metal mugs that Tobias handed out, and the children were helping themselves from a stack of bread and dripping. They all seemed hungry, even the girls. Jared stood back and watched the food disappear.
Tobias beckoned him. ‘Sister, I should like you to meet Jared Tyler. He has brought some winter clothes for the children. Jared, this is Anna.’
The woman looked up at him and he saw that her face was lined with age. But between the lines her skin was flawless, milk white and smooth, and her features were lovely. She had a calm, peaceful expression, which gave her a delicate be
auty that even her dowdy brown gown could not dim. He gave her a formal bow, and she curtsied.
‘You are most kind, sir.Will you take tea with us?’ She handed him a hot tin mug full of dark brown liquid.
‘How are the miners’ families coping?’ he asked.
‘Most are finding it difficult on half-pay. But they fear that if the pit closes completely they’ll be destitute.’
‘Will it come to that?’
‘No one knows,’ she replied.
Tobias added, ‘I am told that the good coal has been worked out. The manager said there were plans for a new shaft, but no money to pay for it.’
‘It must be hard for everyone.’
‘Families like the Wiltons are all right. Sarah has two brothers down the pit as well as her mother and father, so they are not starving. It’s those with babies and very young children who can’t manage.Those mothers cannot go down the pit with their husbands. That’s why we need the mission.’
Jared felt humbled by his own comfortable existence. He had developed genuine admiration for Tobias and Anna Holmes. They appeared to be using their own funds to support these families. He wanted to help them properly.
‘You will thank your mother for us, won’t you?’ Anna said. ‘Why don’t you come to our meeting next Sunday?’
That was the second time he had been asked. But Mother and Father went to church and Father didn’t hold with some of the chapel ministers stirring up his labourers. ‘My family are church folk,’ he said.
‘You are still most welcome to join us whenever you wish. We always need help in our Sunday school.’
His eyes widened. Jared didn’t think he’d be much use as a Sunday-afternoon nursemaid. But these people had mined the coal that had kept his father’s forge going, which had enabled him to be educated. They were not the cause of the bank’s troubles and he wanted to give something back if he could.
‘What kind of help?’ he asked.
‘Are you any good with numbers?’ Tobias responded.
He nodded. ‘Mathematics was my best subject.’
‘Sarah has no facility with figures.’
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