Mary’s heart beat faster. She was worried that someone would say that she had lain with another man and had his child out of wedlock, or that she didn’t deserve to be married to a good man like Tom, or that they didn’t love one another.
The room remained silent, and Reverend Hodgson continued. Mary was conscious of the friendly faces in the room. She looked at Tom and his smile was reassuring. She felt as though she was dreaming and that she wasn’t really present.
‘Thomas Milburn, do you take Mary Watson to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honour her and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?’
Tom’s voice rang out clearly, ‘I do.’
‘Mary Watson, do you take Thomas Milburn to be your wedded husband, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honour him, obey him and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him, for as long as you both shall live?’
‘I do.’
That was it, they were married. Mary sighed with relief and smiled.
Watson handed the ring to the minister, who blessed it, and then Tom reached for her hand. He gently placed a narrow gold band on her wedding finger.
The minister took their hands and declared, ‘Now that Mary and Tom have given themselves to each other by solemn vows, with the joining of hands and the giving and receiving of a ring, I pronounce that they are husband and wife, in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Those whom God has joined together, let no man put asunder.’
Tom was smiling at her and he looked so happy. Not waiting for the minister’s words, he took a step towards her and held her firmly as he kissed her.
***
Everyone came up to them and offered their congratulations. Tom thanked the minister before leaving the chapel. When the outer door was opened, they were all shocked to see a small crowd had gathered outside. Word must have got out that the wedding was taking place and people had left what they were doing to see the wedding party at the chapel.
Tom and Mary hadn’t wanted a big fuss and they didn’t want to draw attention to the marriage because they knew it would fuel the gossip about Josie. Neither of them wanted that for their families’ sakes or hers.
Tom saw Connie amongst the people and it dawned on him who was responsible for drawing the crowd to the chapel. She was one of the few people who had known about the wedding and where they would be that day. He heard someone say, ‘...not content with one brother, she had to have them both.’ At that moment he realised what a vindictive person Joe had married. Connie hadn’t only told everyone when the wedding would take place but also who the father of Mary’s baby was — even though it was her own husband!
Tom pointed out his horse and cart standing at the roadside, ‘Lizzie, please take Mary and Josie to the cart. Get them away from here.’
Mary started to object, but Lizzie led her away, telling her to let Tom take care of things. Ben followed them with Josie in his arms. They stood by the cart watching and waiting. Bobby pawed at the ground, eager to be on his way.
Connie’s voice could be heard above the rest, ‘Why did you marry your brother’s whore?’
Tom walked over to her, with his new father-in-law on his heels.
‘Connie, how can you do this?’ asked Tom. ‘We’ve known each other all of our lives and we’re related now. You’re married to me brother, for God’s sake.’
‘That bitch ruined my wedding day, so I’m going to ruin hers!’ spat Connie.
George butted in. ‘There’s only one bitch around here and it’s not my daughter.’ The crowd cheered as he turned his back on Connie, but she leapt forward and began to hit him as hard as she could.
A large grey horse edged its way between the people in the crowd. Joe directed Thunder towards the centre of the commotion. He reached down and grabbed Connie, pulling her up in front of him and holding her firmly as she squirmed to get free. Joe uttered words of apology to both Tom and George and he nodded in Mary’s direction before he took his wife home.
Knowing the show was over, the onlookers started to disperse. That display would certainly provide them with plenty to talk about for a while, thought Mary. The bairns were still hanging around, waiting for the groom to throw some coins. Tom reached into his pocket and threw a handful onto the road behind them and smiled as he watched the children scurry about to find them.
Then he went to the cart where he found Mary and Josie with George, Lizzie and Ben. They were all mortified by what had happened, especially Mary, whose private life had been made public in a most humiliating way. Everyone, except Mary, was astonished at Connie’s behaviour, but Mary knew Connie better than the rest of them and knew what she was capable of. Her instincts had warned her the very first day they had met.
Tom and Mary said their farewells and Tom took his new family to the house that he had rented for them. It was a quaint cottage, standing alone on the hillside, about a mile from High House Farm. It had a garden to the front with a low wall and beautiful views of the valley below. Tom helped Mary and Josie down from the cart and saw to the horse while Mary looked around the garden. It had been neglected for some time, but she would enjoy bringing it back to life. A rose climbed up the wall between the window and the door and a sign on the door lintel read, ‘Moorside Cottage’.
Mary noticed that the horse shoe nailed to the door was fastened the right way up and smiled. The dale’s people believed horse shoes had to hang with the points upwards, in a U-shape, so the luck stayed in. If it was hung upside down, the luck would fall out. She hoped that it would bring them luck in this lovely little cottage.
Tom opened the door and effortlessly carried his bride and her infant over the threshold. ‘Welcome home, Mrs Milburn.’ He set her down inside and kissed her tenderly. ‘I am so happy that you’re here — and that you’re my wife.’
‘Are you hungry? Thirsty?’ she asked, wanting to take care of her new husband, in their new home. She laid Josie down to sleep in the front room.
‘No,’ replied Tom. ‘There’s only one thing I want right now and that is you.’ He took her hand and led her upstairs.
Chapter 26
Westgate Village
November 1873
Constable Robert Emerson wrote a small article for the press and made a sketch of the gold locket. He placed both pieces of paper in an envelope and addressed it to the ‘Durham County Advertiser’.
‘A body was found in a remote part of Weardale last Sunday. Police would like to discover the identity of the body which is thought to be that of a young woman. There was evidence of an old injury to the left arm, which had healed. A locket was recovered, a picture of which can be seen below. Anyone knowing of any missing person that fits this description or with any information is to contact PC Robert Emerson of Westgate.’
Robert had several posters printed at St John’s Chapel and he hung them up in the neighbouring villages. Surely somebody must know who the woman was; somebody must miss her, he thought.
It was two days before the first person came forward. Lizzie Featherstone knocked at his door.
‘Good Morning,’ said the constable.
‘Morning, Mr Emerson. You know our Kate never came back from Durham last year. I just wondered if…’
He had forgotten about the Featherstone girl. ‘You’d better come in.’
When they were seated, Lizzie said, ‘I don’t know anything about the locket, but our Kate did break her arm when she was a bairn.’ She rubbed her lower left arm subconsciously. ‘She fell out of a tree and broke it. The doctor put a splint on, but it never straightened out quite right.’
Lizzie fiddled with the ribbons on her bonnet.
‘Doctor Rutherford?’
‘No, the one before him, Doctor Ainsley.
He wasn’t here long.’
‘How old is your daughter, Mrs Featherstone?’
‘Twenty-two.’
‘And her hair, what colour is it?’
‘Very fair, you’d probably call it blonde. She got that from her father’s side of the family. The curls as well. I would have loved to have curls like hers, but my hair’s always been as straight as a die.’
‘And what about her height? How tall is she?’
‘She’s about the same as me.’
‘I see.’ Robert paused.
‘Do you think it’s her? Our Kate?’
The description of the girl was a good fit for the body. Lizzie didn’t know anything about the locket, which was a shame, but the girl had been convicted of theft, so it wasn’t unreasonable to think that she had stolen it. That could explain it. In Robert’s mind, all the pieces were falling into place. Something worried him though. He tapped his fingers on the chair arm.
He remembered that Kate Featherstone had firmly denied the charges made against her and had been so shocked when the guilty verdict was pronounced that she had fainted in the courtroom. The dale’s people had been as shocked as Kate had been; they couldn’t believe that the young Featherstone girl would have stolen anything from the big house.
There was something else as well that bothered Robert. None of the stolen items had ever been found despite a thorough search by the police of everywhere that Kate could have hidden them — Burnside Hall and all of its outbuildings, The Moss and its barns, and all the nooks and crannies on the walk between the two.
‘You think it’s her, don’t you?’
He looked into Lizzie’s desperate eyes. ‘Aye, I’m afraid it could be, she fits the description. Would you recognise her clothes?’
‘It depends what she was wearing. She was at Durham for a year and God only knows where she’s been since then.’
Robert left the room to fetch the clothes and he laid them out on the table.
Lizzie lifted her hand to her brow and took a deep breath before saying, ‘Aye, it’s her. That dress, I made it for myself years ago. It didn’t fit me after I had Ben so I give it to our Kate.’ Her voice broke as she finished.
Robert took her hand, ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Featherstone, so very sorry.’
‘Where is she?’
‘She’s at the undertakers, but I don’t think you should go and see her. She was up there a long time.’
Lizzie’s face creased up as she imagined how her beautiful daughter might look now. Holding back tears, she asked, ‘Do you know what happened to her? How she died?’
Still holding her hand, he said, ‘I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but she was murdered. She was killed by a blow to the head and then we think her body was taken into the mine to hide it.’
Lizzie was stunned at the news and sat there in silence.
After a few moments, Robert handed her the locket and asked, ‘Would you mind taking a look at this, please? Just in case you remember anything.’
Lizzie took the locket and turned it around in her hands. ‘I haven’t seen it before. I wonder who gave it to her.’
‘What makes you think someone gave it to her?’
‘Well, it’s got her initials engraved on it.’
‘Her initials?’
Lizzie pointed at the letters. ‘CF — Catherine Featherstone. We’ve always called her Kate, but it’s short for Catherine.’
Kate. Catherine. Why hadn’t he thought of that?
Perhaps Kate had been given it, but by whom? It would have been an expensive gift.
***
After Lizzie left Robert Emerson’s house, the news of her daughter’s death hit her like a hard blow. She stopped by the side of the house, leaned against the stone wall and sobbed her heart out. Kate had often been in her thoughts over the last year, but she had never imagined that something so horrendous could have happened to her.
When the tears finally stopped, Lizzie knew she must look terrible. She couldn’t go home and let Ben see her this way, so she blew her nose and turned towards Moorside Cottage, Mary’s new home.
Mary answered the door and was shocked to see her aunt standing there with swollen eyes and dishevelled hair. She had obviously been crying and was still upset.
‘Aunt Lizzie, come in. What’s wrong?’
Lizzie perched on a chair by the fireside and rested her head in her hands. ‘I’ve just had some awful news. I went to see Mr Emerson, the policeman, about the body you found. With it being a young woman and not far from here, I just wondered if it might be...’
‘Oh, no.’ Mary put her hand over her mouth. ‘And what did he say?’
‘He brought out the dress that the woman was wearing, and it was hers. It was one I made, so there’s no question it’s her.’
‘Aww, I’m so sorry.’ She reached out and hugged the older woman. ‘Does Ben know?’
‘No, I came straight here. I couldn’t go back home in this state.’
‘You must tell him as soon as you get back, before word spreads and he hears it from someone else.’
‘I know. He’s been so angry at Kate for not coming home to help me. I don’t know how he’ll take this – his sister being murdered.’
‘Murdered?’ exclaimed Mary.
‘Yes, murdered. Mr Emerson said that she had been hit over the head and then whoever killed her must have dragged her into the mine so she wouldn’t be found.’
‘Oh my God! I don’t know what to say. Do you want me to come back to The Moss with you?’
‘No, it’s alright. It might be better if it’s just me there when I tell him.’
‘Alright, if you’re sure.’
‘Aye, I’m sure. Anyway, you have a husband here to look after. I’m sorry to bother you so soon after the wedding.’
‘It’s no bother. I’m always here if you need me. Let me know if there’s anything we can do.’ Mary hugged her aunt again and then Lizzie set off to share the news with her son.
***
Another whole day passed before anyone else contacted Robert about the body. This time he opened his door to Sir Thomas Forster.
‘Come in, Sir Thomas. Please sit down.’
‘It’s about this locket. That’s why I’ve come to see you, Robert.’
‘What about it?’
‘I recognised it from the picture in the paper. It was my mother’s, God rest her soul. The initials CF are for Charlotte Forster.’
‘I see.’
The policeman scratched his head. ‘You know the woman we found was Kate Featherstone, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I heard.’
‘Kate must have stolen it when she worked for you. Her initials were the same, you see — Catherine Featherstone. So that explains that.’
‘I’m afraid it doesn’t explain anything.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The locket was still at Burnside Hall after Kate was imprisoned. I can vouch for that.’
‘So how — what — hmm.’ That wasn’t possible. How could the girl have had it in her possession when she was killed? ‘When did you last see the locket?’
‘When Henry told us that he intended to propose to Connie Peart, we decided to clear out one of the large bedrooms at the front of the hall. We thought it would be a good room for the newly married couple. My mother was the last to use it and some of her belongings were still in there. I found the locket in a drawer and took it downstairs. That evening, before dinner, I passed it to Henry and remarked that his new bride would have the same initials and suggested that he gave it to her after they were married. He put it in his jacket pocket and that was the last time I saw it.’
‘It sounds like I’d better have a chat with Henry. I’d like to know how it got from his jacket pocket into this girl’s possession. Do you know where he is?’
‘Up in Newcastle, I expect. That’s where he usually is when he’s not at home. By the way, it didn’t say what happened to the girl in the paper; you know, how s
he died.’
‘She was murdered. She was bashed over the head with something heavy enough to kill her, and then her body was hidden in the mine so it wouldn’t be found.’
‘God Almighty!’
As Henry was not at Burnside Hall, Robert decided that his first call should be on Connie Peart, to find out if she had been given the locket by Henry or knew what he had done with it.
The policeman walked up to Springbank Farm and was met in the yard by Tip. He squatted down and stroked the dog’s head. ‘How are you doing, boy? Missing your master, I’ll bet, eh? Good boy.’
Joe was in the barn and when he heard a voice, he went out to see who was there.
‘Robert, what can we do for you? Come in.’
Robert followed Joe into the kitchen and they sat at the table.
‘Well, Joe, it’s Connie I’d like to talk to. It’s about that body your Tom found in the mine.’
The Lead Miner's Daughter Page 16
