by Val Wood
With a sigh she turned away. Such a pity. It was so lovely and appeared so peaceful; yet she knew that down in the dale, in the hamlets and villages, there were people there, who, like the poor people of the towns were more intent on feeding themselves and their children and escaping from the poverty which trapped them, than admiring a pleasant view.
So, Matt, she mused sadly as she gazed around the room. I’ve come to your home as your wife. I’ve slept alone in your bed. I’ve come as far as I can and now I must go back. I’m not wanted here. But I felt you here with me. I had my arms around you, even though only in my dreams. God bless you, my darling. Come to me soon.
She went to her own room and dressed and thought wryly of Squire Linton’s remark of her not having a maid to help her dress. Sometimes it might be an advantage, she thought as she lifted her arms to fasten the buttons at the back of her dress. She tied her hair in a double knot at the nape of her neck and then went to waken Henry and Polly telling them to hurry, not to ask questions, but that they were going home to York.
Jed knocked on the door at a-quarter-to-seven and handed her a letter which he said had just been delivered. ‘I’ll tek these bags down now, ma’am, and come back for young master’s.’ He picked up her cases which were strapped and ready and went back out into the corridor. The door was open and she glanced up as she tore open the envelope, wondering curiously who would write to her here. Perhaps it was Marcus Blythe wanting his carriage back.
She saw Jed put down the cases and then hesitate, scratching his head. ‘What is it, Jed?’ she asked vaguely. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘No, nowt’s wrong, ma’am. But we was wondering, me and Mrs Rogerson.’ He rubbed his chin and glanced at her from beneath his brows. ‘We was wondering what tha wanted us to do about the cart?’
The letter was from Robin, written a week ago. She looked up at Jed. ‘Sorry, Jed. What did you say? The cart? Which cart?’
As she asked the question she looked into Jed’s eyes and saw awareness, and something else also – compassion. Her cheeks flushed. The cart! The cart which she had left here so long ago and had forgotten about!
So they had known ever since she had arrived. Jed and Mrs Rogerson had known all along who she was, yet had never given her so much as an inkling that they knew; not by a word, a look or a gesture. They had treated her as they would have any other guest in the house. No – more than that. They had treated her, and Henry, as if they belonged here, as if they were wife and son of the heir to Staveley Park.
She sat down on the chair by the bed and stared at Jed still waiting by the door. She gave him a sudden smile, there was some hope for mankind after all if there were good honest people like Jed and Mrs Rogerson around.
‘Keep it, Jed, if you want it, or sell it, or chop it up for firewood. I don’t mind. It was replaced long ago, as was the donkey.’
He gave her a grin, the first she had ever seen on his craggy face, nodded and touched his forelock and picked up the bags and left.
She sat for a minute musing in some amazement that they should behave in the way they did, without taking advantage of her. She glanced down at the letter in her lap. Then she gasped and sat upright and re-read the laboured writing.
‘Please come back, Annie,’ Robin had written. ‘I’m at my wits end. Rose is so ill and I’m fearful for her life and the babby’s, and my own if anything happens to her.’
Then that’s settled, she thought as she hurried into Henry’s room. We’d have to go anyway. Poor Rose. Poor Robin. We must leave immediately.
Charlie was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, his tail wagging as he saw them. Mrs Rogerson was there with a blanket in case the morning was chilly, and through the open door Jed was loading their bags into the waiting carriage.
‘I’m right sorry you’re going, Mrs Linton,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I hope as you’ll come back soon.’
Annie gave a slight shrug and then added. ‘I have to go now, Mrs Rogerson. I’m needed in York. A very dear friend is in trouble.’
There was a sound from behind them and the study door opened. Henry Linton came out. His clothes were dishevelled, his neck stock undone and he looked as if he hadn’t been to bed.
‘Grandfather!’ Henry ran to him. ‘I’m sorry but we have to go back to York. Rose is very ill and Mamma must go and look after her.’
Henry Linton looked pale and drawn as he placed his hand on his grandson’s head. ‘And must you go too, Henry? Or can you stay?’
Annie caught her breath. How dare he say that? After all the harsh words which had passed between them. She looked Henry Linton straight in the eyes and opened her mouth to speak. Then she stopped. His eyes were bloodshot as if he had been weeping.
‘Mrs Rogerson.’ Henry Linton cleared his throat. ‘Would you be good enough to take Henry outside for a moment while I speak to Mrs Linton?’
Mrs Rogerson stared at Mr Linton, a look of amazement on her face at the sound of his polite words; then she blinked and gathered up Henry and Polly and a skittish Charlie and hurried them outside and closed the doors.
‘What is this, sir?’ Annie began immediately on the defensive. ‘We must leave. I have received troubling news, I must leave at once.’
‘Anna.’ He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. ‘Anna,’ he repeated, opening them wide, and she saw pain there. ‘You are right. I am a tyrant. I didn’t give my sons the affection they wanted. And my wife, my beautiful wife,’ he put his head down and sighed deeply. ‘She deserved better than me, but she didn’t really care for me, we married because it was expected of us, not because there was any love between us. We could perhaps have grown to care for each other but I found affection elsewhere, and she found it with our sons, and then it was too late.’
He looks like an old man, she contemplated. His handsome face was haggard, his hair unbrushed.
‘But you must try to understand, Anna. We are what our fathers make us. My father beat me every day to make me strong.’ He must have seen the dismay on her face for he hastened to add, ‘I swear I didn’t do the same to mine, but nevertheless I insisted on discipline. It might have seemed harsh,’ he muttered, ‘their mother said it was. But I never listened to her and she accepted what I said as being right.’
A thin smile crossed his face. ‘Not as you would, Anna. The tigress defending her cubs.’
If only you knew, sir, she thought bitterly, how I have defended my young, and lived with my conscience ever since.
‘If she had been more like you, with your spirit, maybe things would have been different.’
‘I am as I am, because I had to survive, sir,’ her voice was cutting. ‘We are from different worlds.’
He nodded. ‘I know. I understand now, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I spoke the way I did. I am no gentleman. I am lower than the lowest.’
This was no man that she knew; not the rough-tongued squire who had turned her off his land, not the handsome, bantering charmer who had amused her at the masquerade, nor the father who had escorted her about his estate. This was a man who had sunk as low in misery and self-esteem as it was possible for anyone to do.
‘Will you stay?’ His manner was appealing, his voice low. ‘I will be different with my grandson. And though I can’t promise that you and I won’t fight or have our differences, we could perhaps come to some understanding.’
She shook her head, she’d vowed she wouldn’t set foot in this house again. ‘No, sir. I would be an embarrassment to you. It’s no longer a game pretending to be different from who I am. I’m a nobody; no family, no background. I could never be a lady.’
‘But your son, yours and Matthias’, he can be different,’ he pleaded. ‘Which would you rather he was, a draper, or the owner of all this,’ he swept around his arm, encompassing the house, the land, the whole estate.
‘You still don’t understand, do you?’ she reproached him. ‘It doesn’t matter which. As long as he’s able to hold his head up and know who he is, th
at’s what matters.’
‘He’s my grandson, that is who he is.’ His voice became sharp again. ‘Whether or not you like it, one day he will inherit this estate. Isn’t it better that he grows up knowing it, growing to love this land, as I do, rather than coming to it and not knowing where to begin?’
She was caught off guard. She hadn’t thought of that. She’d assumed that he would simply cut them off, have nothing more to do with them. He must have done some hard thinking all the night. She remembered her dream of footsteps prowling the corridor last night, and was convinced that it had been Henry Linton, unable to sleep for his troubled conscience.
‘I said that I wouldn’t set foot in this house again.’ She uttered the words firmly, though her determination was wavering.
He smiled. ‘I remember. Not even if I went down on my bended knees!’
He put out his hand and grasped the bannister and lowered himself onto one knee. ‘It’s a long time since I did this to a young woman, and for an entirely different motive. But I’m begging you, Anna. Will you stay? For Matthias’s sake and Henry’s, if not for your own?’
She couldn’t believe her eyes and she wanted to laugh if it hadn’t been such a serious question. Then she saw the humorous twinkle in his blue eyes and she drew herself up straight.
‘Only, for Heaven’s sake,’ he groaned. ‘Do be quick and make up your mind. I’ve got the most fearful cramp.’
She laughed aloud. How ridiculous he was. But if he was prepared to look ridiculous, then it surely must prove that the man had some qualities after all?
‘We can’t stay now. I must go back to York.’ She indicated the letter in her hand and said with some forethought. ‘But perhaps after all, we might come back.’
‘Let Henry stay,’ he entreated as grimacing he stood upright. ‘Please. And if you must go then come back when you can. I did enjoy your company, Anna, before our quarrel.’
Still she shook her head, she dare not leave Henry. Suppose he was unhappy?
‘I swear I’ll take care of him,’ he pleaded yet again. ‘On my life.’ He put his hand on his heart. ‘And that of my son’s, I’ll take care of him.’
She gazed at him for a long moment as she considered. Then she made up her mind. ‘We’d better ask him then, hadn’t we? If he wants to stay, and only if he does, then he can, but only if Polly stays too,’ she added.
They went to the door together. Outside, Mrs Rogerson, Lowson and Jed were standing by the carriage talking in low voices and Polly was watching as Henry threw twigs for Charlie to chase.
‘Henry. Come here a moment, please.’
The child stood in front of her and with a grin lifted dirty hands for her to see.
‘Henry. Your grandfather has asked if you would like to stay with him for a while. I must return to York as Rose is ill. But if you want to you can stay.’
She tried to keep her voice impartial, not to persuade him one way or another, and if she was surprised or disappointed in his answer then she didn’t show it.
‘Can Polly and Charlie stay too?’
She nodded, a lump forming in her throat as her son made his first decision.
‘Ye—es. Please.’ Exuberantly he threw a stick up in the air and Charlie tore off after it. ‘Charlie likes it here. He used to live here, you know, when he was a pup. Jed told me. Someone called Tobias took him away. Yes please, grandfather. I’d like to stay.’
40
She wept most of the way back to York, shaken and jolted in the empty carriage as Lowson urged on the team along the rutted roads, and wondered what comfort or happiness her new status had brought her. I’ve lost my son, she sobbed, just as I lost the others. Not one did I lose at childbed but I’ve lost them all now. If I give Henry a new life with his grandfather, I’ll lose him, he’ll never wholly belong to me again.
After a while her good sense took over and she began to consider. If we both lived at Staveley Park, Henry would still be mine, his grandfather wouldn’t get all his own way, that he wouldn’t! But do I want to live there with Henry Linton? Do I want to see that lovely house opened up so that when Matt comes home it is a home to him as it never was before. Heavens Annie, what is happening to you? To live in a house as grand as that! And think. You could maybe persuade Mr Linton to do up the cottages down in the valley, or at least mend the thatch. But slowly, slowly, she chastized herself, don’t run so fast.
And the shop. Robin could run the shop. That would please Henry Linton and it would bring in my own income, I wouldn’t have to ask him for money. She’d revelled in her independence, she wouldn’t give it up easily.
Robin opened the shop door as Lowson handed her down and lifted down her baggage. She thanked him and asked him to tell Mr Blythe that she would call and thank him personally for the carriage. Robin looked worried and drawn as he ushered her in.
‘She’s had a terrible time, Annie. I had to send for you.’
‘It’s all right, Robin,’ she reassured him, taking off her hat and shaking down her hair. ‘I was coming back anyway.’
‘She’s lost ’babby, Annie.’ Robin sat down on a shop stool and sank his head wearily into his hands. ‘My poor little Rosie. She’s heartbroken. I can’t console her.’
‘I’m so sorry, Robin. It’s hard, I know, to lose a child, especially the first. It’ll take time to get over, but there’ll be other bairns.’
‘That’s what ‘doctor said. He said it would be easier next time.’ He shook his head and wept. ‘How can I put her through that again. It’s not fair.’
‘She’s young, Robin. Next time will be easier. First time is always the worst.’
Robin said he hoped she didn’t mind but they’d used her room upstairs. ‘I wanted her near me when she started in labour, and we were that busy in the shop, I daren’t leave it.’
Annie ran upstairs to her room and found Rose lying in her bed. She looks so beautiful, Annie thought, her face pale and sad and her hair draped around her shoulders like a dark cloud.
‘I want to get up now, Annie. Robin says I must stay in bed, but I do nothing but fret when I’m alone up here. If I get up I won’t think so much of my poor babby.’ Tears filled her eyes. ‘He was so lovely, Annie, so lovely, but so still.’
Annie comforted her as best she could and agreed with her that she should get up. ‘Sit in the chair today, and tomorrow come downstairs. It’ll take your mind off your loss. But Rose,’ she said gently. ‘Tha’ll not forget him.’ She slipped without realizing into her old dialect. ‘Tha’ll have other bairns and they’ll mean just as much to thee, but tha won’t forget the one you lost.’
‘I’ve a lot to talk about, Robin,’ she said as she went downstairs again.
‘Aye, and so have I. If it hadn’t been that I was so worried about Rose, I would have told you in my letter.’
‘Told me? What? Has something happened?’
‘The shop next door is coming vacant. Mr Thompson came in to tell me. He’s giving up his business and going to live with his daughter.’
‘Isn’t he selling the business?’ The confectioner’s shop was usually busy, though she had noticed recently that the old proprietor was often standing on his doorstep idly watching the traffic and passers-by.
‘He says nobody wants to buy it, he’s had it on the market for some time, but the price of sugar and flour has gone sky high and nobody will pay the prices any more.’
‘So? What are you saying Robin?’ she teased. ‘That we buy it and go in for spun sugar creations?’
‘What I’m saying, Annie, is that we take the lease and use it for haberdashery.’ His face became animated, wiping away the misery she had seen when she’d arrived back only an hour ago. ‘Rose’s father said he would give us a dowry, we could use it to set up.’
‘But what about here. What am I to do without you?’ Her own plans seemed to be dashed. She couldn’t leave the shop in any other hands but Robin’s.
‘No, no.’ He hastened to reassure her. ‘I shall
stay here and Rosie will run next door. We could even,’ he added enthusiastically, ‘knock down a wall later and make a way through.’
‘You’d have to buy the building before you could do that,’ she said practically.
‘I know, I know. My mind is running on. But what do you think, Annie? Is it a good idea?’
He gazed at her, his face expectant and eager. If anyone could make the idea work and succeed, it was Robin, she decided.
She smiled back at him. ‘I think it’s a wonderful idea, Robin. It’s just the tonic that you and Rose need. We’ll go to see Marcus Blythe in the morning and put it to him.’
Mr Blythe thought it an excellent idea, though he advised that they musn’t expect to make a profit immediately. ‘You have the expense of fitting it out, carpenters don’t do the work for nothing, Mr Deane, and you will need shelves and counters and such, I expect.’
There are shelves and counters already,’ Robin said. ‘I’ve had a good look at the interior and we could manage with what there is, for a year or two anyway.’
Marcus Blythe nodded approvingly. ‘And staff of course. You must get extra staff, Mrs Deane couldn’t run it single-handed, and you will be running the drapery for Mrs Linton. But yes,’ he agreed. ‘I think it will work very well.’
He offered them refreshment. Robin declined and hurried back to the shop, but Annie stayed on, there were several things she wanted to discuss with Marcus Blythe.
She told him that she had left Henry behind at Staveley Park. He nodded. ‘You were wise. Linton is not an unkind man, though he might appear unfeeling. He has mellowed, I’ve noticed, over the last few years, and I think too that he has been very unhappy and lonely in that great house of his. So, will you go back and wait there for your husband?’
