Emily

by Valerie Wood

  Hugo took the pile of laundry that she was carrying and placed them on the bed. ‘Come and look at the painting I bought in Italy. Charming, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she murmured, trying to remove herself from his grasp and with some dismay, reasoning that a painting of a nude woman wasn’t really a suitable subject for him to be pointing out to her.

  He stood her in front of him and held her shoulders as they observed the painting. ‘She has a fine body, don’t you think, Emily?’ His hands dropped to her waist. ‘Plump, but not too plump.’ His fingers strayed across her breasts as he whispered, ‘Much like you, I would imagine? Nicely rounded, just the way a man likes a woman. Not just skin and bone.’

  She struggled away. ‘Sir, Mrs Anderson will be looking for me.’

  He moistened his lips with his tongue. ‘Ah, yes. Mrs Anderson. We mustn’t forget Mrs Anderson, must we?’ He slapped her rump. ‘Off you go, then. I’m glad you approve of the room, Emily.’

  She dashed away, quite forgetting the sheets until much later and not daring to go back for them until she heard him go out and the front door slam behind him.

  ‘Master’s in a bit of a mood, isn’t he?’ Dolly said. ‘Looks as if he’s lost a guinea and found sixpence.’

  Emily said nothing, but wished with all her heart that Christmas would soon be over and the New Year begun and Mr Hugo and Miss Deborah married so that she might feel safe again.

  Mrs Purnell, Hugo and Emily travelled in the carriage to the wedding, whilst Wilson, Hugo’s manservant, travelled on top next to the coachman. It was a bitterly cold February day and the roads were deeply rutted and hard with frost. ‘What a god-forsaken spot,’ Mrs Purnell complained. ‘Does anything ever happen out here?’

  ‘Now you will realize why I don’t want to live here.’ Hugo bit his nails and stared at Emily sitting quietly in the corner. ‘Roger Francis offered us a house, but I turned it down.’

  ‘I didn’t know he’d offered you a house,’ his mother said sharply. ‘You should have taken it. You could still have kept some rooms at my house.’

  ‘Our house, Mother,’ he corrected her. ‘Anyway, I don’t want to be too near my in-laws and I want to be where the parties are and the clubs, not stuck next to a field of potatoes or turnips.’ He glanced at Emily. ‘You’re a country girl, Emily. What did you do for excitement?’

  She considered and thought of her childhood. There hadn’t been any time for excitement since then, not once she had started work. ‘I used to row down the river, sir. Towards Spurn. And once I caught a salmon.’

  ‘You caught a salmon!’ he said dryly. ‘What a thrill. Lucky old salmon!’

  ‘Not an old one, sir,’ she said seriously. ‘A young one. It would be returning to ’sea to feed and grow before coming back again to spawn.’

  He yawned. ‘Really! What a mine of information you are, Emily. Who would have thought it?’

  She was thrilled to be coming back to Elmswell Manor and Mrs Castle and Mrs Brewer both greeted her warmly, though Jane only looked up from scrubbing pans and nodded to her. ‘How you’ve grown!’ said Mrs Castle. ‘They must be feeding you well.’

  ‘Not as well as you, Mrs Castle. Cook doesn’t bake half so well as you, but we went to Scarborough last summer,’ she said eagerly. ‘And it was so healthy there. The air was good, just like it is out here,’ she added wistfully.

  ‘And I expect you’ll be looking after Miss Deborah again.’ Mrs Brewer observed her. ‘How do you feel about that?’

  ‘Is no-one coming with her?’ Emily asked in dismay. ‘I thought someone might be.’

  Mrs Brewer shook her head. ‘Well, I’ve looked after her all these years, but I’m getting too old to be a lady’s maid, and I haven’t been told any other arrangements.’

  Emily unpacked Mrs Purnell’s gown for the wedding and hung it so that the creases would drop out, and then went into her own adjoining room. It’s so good to be back, it’s like coming home, she thought as she gazed out of the window at the familiar winter landscape. I wonder how Sam is. I must ask Mr Francis if I get the opportunity.

  The opportunity came the next morning as she escorted Mrs Purnell into the drawing room to await the bride and her parents before they set off for church. As she came out into the hall, Mr Francis came down the stairs. ‘Emily! How nice to see you. Have you settled well in Hull?’

  ‘Yes thank you, sir, quite well.’

  He smiled and prepared to move on. ‘Sir,’ she said shyly, ‘I was wondering how Sam is. If he is still at ’same farm.’

  ‘Why yes, of course. He’s very happy there, quite one of the family. They’ve become very fond of him.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so glad. Would you – could I ask that you send him my best wishes, sir?’ She was being forward she realized, but she didn’t think that he would object. ‘I would write to him but he can’t read. He didn’t have any schooling.’

  She thought that sadness brushed his face, but he nodded and said he would pass on her greetings if he saw him. He turned away, but then turned back as if with an afterthought. ‘You can always send a message through me, Emily, if ever there is anything urgent that Samuel needs to know.’

  She thanked him and mused that Mr Francis was always very proper, he always gave Sam his full name.

  The servants stood in the hall to greet the bride and groom and wedding party as they returned from church. Emily watched the faces of the family as they entered the hall and wondered why everyone except Deborah and Hugo seemed so solemn. The bride was very animated and talkative and her father seemed to be anxious about her. She looked very lovely and Emily drew in a breath when she saw her hooped dress of cream with a scattering of pink silk rosebuds over the top silk layer. On her head she wore a pleated bonnet with pink ribbons and she carried a prayerbook.

  ‘Emily,’ she squealed, ‘I’m coming to live in Hull. You will be able to look after me again just as you used to. Won’t she, Hugo?’

  ‘Indeed she will.’ Emily felt her heart sink as Hugo’s eyes held hers. ‘I’m sure Emily will look after you very well indeed.’

  Mrs Purnell’s expression was one of frozen indignation as she heard this and as she passed Emily, she muttered, ‘I am the one who pays your wages, don’t forget that, Emily. You are paid to look after me!’

  Emily bobbed her knee. ‘Yes, ma’am. I won’t forget.’

  Relatives and friends of both families arrived for the celebration and the wedding breakfast was served. There was a lot of laughter and noisy chatter from Hugo’s friends, whilst the friends of the Francises, who were fewer in number than the Purnells, were more circumspect. After the tables were cleared, a pianist and fiddlers arrived and soon the great house was throbbing with music and dancing began.

  Emily, although she was there to attend Mrs Purnell, helped the other servants by giving out glasses of wine to the guests, and she felt quite lively as she revelled in the music and watched the dancers. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned. It was Mr Hugo, who had had rather a lot to drink.

  ‘Marvellous day, Emily,’ he slurred. ‘Isn’t it simply grand? I don’t know why I didn’t think of getting married before. What do you say, Forbes?’ He clung on to Emily as he called across to a friend.

  ‘What do I say about what?’ Forbes too, seemed to be the worse for drink and Emily tried to edge away, but was held fast between them. ‘I wouldn’t say no to a little romp with this filly.’ He reached out to grab Emily by the waist, but Hugo pulled her away.

  ‘Oh no, you don’t,’ he grinned. ‘Not this one. You definitely can’t have this one!’

  ‘Is everything all right?’ To Emily’s relief, Roger Francis approached and cast a disparaging eye over Hugo and his friend. ‘I think it’s time you took a rest, Emily.’ He didn’t look at her, but continued to stare at Hugo. ‘You have been on your feet all day. Go downstairs and I’ll tell Mrs Purnell where you are, should she need you.’

  She thankfully scurried away to the safety of
the kitchen, telling herself she shouldn’t be so foolish as to feel afraid, that it was only men’s tomfoolery and that Mr Hugo was being thoughtful in rescuing her from the clutches of his friend.

  It was almost midnight before the guests who were not staying overnight put on their cloaks and greatcoats and entered their carriages. There was a sharp frost, keen enough for snow and the horses’ hooves crunched and skittered on the gravel drive as they pulled away.

  ‘My word but I’m tired.’ Mrs Purnell climbed wearily up the stairs with Emily’s assistance. ‘I shall sleep well tonight.’

  Emily helped her undress and into her bedgown and filled a glass with cordial as was her custom, before helping her into bed. A soft knock came on the door. ‘See who it is, Emily, and if it’s the housekeeper tell her I have everything I need.’

  It wasn’t the housekeeper, but Hugo with a glass in his hand. ‘Is Mother in bed?’ he whispered. ‘I’ve brought her a glass of champagne to settle her for the night.’

  The wine in the glass he held in his hand frothed and bubbled. ‘Oh, take it away, Hugo. I’ve had enough, I have my cordial,’ his mother said wearily as he entered the room. His face was flushed and he walked rather unsteadily.

  ‘I insist,’ he said. ‘It will help you sleep. Come along now.’ He sat down next to her on the bed. ‘Don’t think I shan’t look after my dear mother just because I’m a married man!’

  ‘Will you, Hugo?’ she said plaintively. Then taking a sip, remarked, ‘I think you will have your hands full looking after your bride.’ She took another sip. ‘It tastes rather odd.’

  ‘It’s the best that Roger Francis’s money can buy.’ He bent forward and whispered, ‘We’re rich, Mother. A handsome dowry and great expectations when Francis pops off.’

  She drained her glass. ‘Don’t be vulgar, Hugo! Now off you go and let me get some sleep. Emily too, she must be tired.’

  ‘You’re not tired are you, Emily?’ He came towards her and patted her cheek. ‘What a good girl you have been. Such a treasure.’ His eyes slid from her face and down her body. ‘We’re so pleased to have you,’ he whispered, ‘aren’t we, Mother?’

  ‘Mm! What?’ Mrs Purnell had slipped down on her pillows and closed her eyes. ‘Put the lamp out, Emily, when you’ve finished.’

  Hugo reached out again and stroked Emily’s face, his fingers firm against her skin, then he leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth. ‘Well,’ he breathed, ‘I must be off to attend to my little wife’s needs.’

  ‘Goodnight, sir.’ Her voice trembled as she opened the door for him.

  She felt extremely agitated and Mrs Castle remarked on it when she finally went down to the kitchen to say goodnight. The servants were all very tired, but they still had the task of clearing up after the guests and the family, and not all of them had yet gone to bed. ‘You get off, Emily, you look all in,’ Mrs Castle said. ‘It’s not your job to help out here. You’ve been a good lass, though, and we appreciate it.’

  ‘I am rather tired,’ she murmured, but felt that she was not so much tired as apprehensive.

  ‘Mr Hugo and Miss Deborah are just going up, Mrs Brewer.’ One of the maids came down the stairs to report. ‘She said as would you go up? Then that’s just about everybody gone, thank goodness.’

  ‘You mean Mr and Mrs Purnell, don’t you?’ Mrs Brewer corrected firmly. ‘Don’t forget they are married now.’

  One of the maids sniggered as a footman whispered in her ear and Mrs Brewer gave them a frosty stare and rebuked them, ‘And we will not have any coarse comments from you, Smith, if you please.’

  The girl put her hand over her mouth to try and contain her giggles as Smith, undeterred, raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes suggestively.

  Emily went up the back stairs and along the corridor and entered her own door rather than going through Mrs Purnell’s room. When she had left her she had been fast asleep and snoring softly.

  She undressed and put on her nightshift and lay on her bed. That’s over with then, she sighed. But what next? Do I stay with Mrs Purnell and risk Mr Hugo’s pawing and Miss Deborah’s tantrums? She couldn’t think of her former mistress as a married woman. She looked childlike even in her wedding gown, small and slight, and it seemed as if she was playing at being married. Emily sighed again. Or do I look for another position and ask Mrs Purnell to give me a reference? Yes, she pondered. I think I will. I think it will be intolerable working there any more.

  Mrs Brewer had undressed Deborah and put her into her new white bedgown and robe and as Hugo knocked and entered she collected her mistress’s wedding gown and put it over her arm. ‘Goodnight, sir, goodnight, ma’am.’

  ‘Wait!’ Deborah called her back. ‘I think you have forgotten something, Betty.’

  Mrs Brewer turned, a frown wrinkling her forehead. ‘Have I, ma’am?’

  Deborah put her chin in the air. ‘You have forgotten my new name!’

  ‘Oh! I beg your pardon. Goodnight, Mrs Purnell. Goodnight, Mr Purnell.’ A bright spot of colour touched Mrs Brewer’s cheeks as she left her young mistress with her new husband.

  ‘Mrs Purnell! Doesn’t that sound fine!’ Deborah bounced on the bed, her pale legs showing.

  ‘Indeed it does, my darling. Now come along and let me help you into bed.’

  ‘Oh, I’m too excited to sleep,’ she said and bounced off the bed again. ‘I could stay up all night.’

  ‘Could you?’ he murmured. ‘Well, don’t forget we have a long journey home tomorrow.’ What an idiotic idea getting married in the coldest month of the year when the roads are bad, he deliberated. We could have been off to Italy again if we’d waited until the spring instead of just going home to Hull. Then he smiled. The Francises must really have believed their precious girl had lost her innocence to marry her off so quickly.

  ‘Look at me, Hugo, do I look pretty?’ She spun around in a circle. ‘Do you like my new bedgown?’

  ‘It’s very pretty. You look extremely sweet.’

  ‘Hugo,’ she came up close to him, ‘will you do those nice things to me?’

  He gazed down at her. ‘Which nice things are those, Deborah? Remind me.’

  ‘You know,’ she giggled. ‘Like you did on the ship, before Mama came in.’

  ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Those nice things! Yes, of course I will.’

  She put her hands to her mouth and her eyes grew wide. ‘Do you know, Hugo,’ she whispered, ‘I do believe that it was rather naughty of us! When I told Mama, she was very angry and said I mustn’t do it again.’

  ‘You told your mama, did you?’ he smiled.

  ‘You said I could!’ she exclaimed. ‘You said that I should tell my mama everything.’

  ‘Of course,’ he said smoothly. ‘Every good girl should tell her mama. Before she is married, that is. But you mustn’t tell her everything now. Now we have our own secrets!’

  She breathed in delightedly. ‘All right. Now will you do those naughty things to me?’

  ‘I will, if you promise that then you will go to bed.’

  ‘I promise.’ She sat in a chair and wriggled. He knelt down beside her and putting one hand beneath her gown, he felt for her small round breasts and tweaked her nipples. With the other he held her foot and kissed her toes. ‘How’s that?’ he said softly.

  ‘Bliss,’ she laughed. ‘Absolute bliss, Hugo. Will you do it every night?’

  ‘I can’t promise.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Only if you’re very good.’

  She closed her eyes. ‘Oh I will be,’ she said dreamily. ‘I will be good.’ She opened her eyes and gazed at him. ‘I feel quite sleepy now. It’s a very pleasant way of drifting off to sleep. Would you like me to stroke your feet, Hugo?’

  ‘No, thank you. It isn’t something that I especially enjoy.’ He pulled her up from the chair. ‘Come along now, you promised. Into bed with you.’

  Obediently she snuggled down beneath the sheets. ‘Goodnight, Hugo. Will you be quite comfortable next door?’
/>   ‘Perfectly comfortable, Deborah. I shall go down for a glass of brandy before retiring. Sleep well.’

  ‘And you, dear Hugo. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  He closed the door quietly behind him and with a short sharp breath he leaned against it. ‘Sleep well!’ he muttered. ‘There’ll be no sleep for me tonight. Not unless I get some release.’ He looked up and down the corridor and listened. It was quiet, with only the sound of the servants shuffling about on the floor above as they prepared for bed.

  He crept down the corridor and, pausing for a moment outside his mother’s room, he pressed his ear against the door and gave a small satisfied smile when he heard the gentle snore. The sleeping draught had worked its magic. He tiptoed on and, reaching the next room, he gently tapped on the door.

  Emily was drifting off to sleep when she heard the sound and awoke with a start. Mrs Purnell must be calling her. She threw the bedclothes back and was padding to the adjoining door when the knock came again, but it was from her own door, leading out to the corridor.

  She picked up her shawl and put it around her shoulders and opened the door a crack. There was no-one out there. She opened it wider and put her head out and was immediately pounced upon and pushed back into the room. ‘Mr Hugo!’

  ‘Ssh.’ He put his hand over her mouth. ‘Don’t make a noise.’

  ‘Sir, your mother – Mrs Purnell!’

  ‘Is sleeping like a babe,’ he whispered as he pushed her further into the room. ‘She won’t hear a thing. But just in case –’. Holding Emily firmly, he propelled her towards the adjoining door and turned the key. ‘There. Now there’s no need to worry, Emily. We won’t be disturbed.’

  ‘Sir.’ She started to shake. ‘I’d rather you left. If you are found in here I’ll be dismissed.’

  ‘Ah, but I won’t be found. There’s no Mrs Anderson here to spoil our fun!’