Down Weaver's Lane

by Anna Jacobs

  ‘But—’

  ‘I haven’t finished. You’ve also driven Meg away and I won’t be able to forgive you for that till I bring her back. She’d lost her husband then her child. You should have been looking after her, comforting her. Instead you never stopped nagging her. You’ve a lot on your conscience, Mam, and I hope you can live with it if any harm comes to our Meg. As soon as Emmy and I have sorted our lives out, I’m going to look for my sister and bring her home as well—to my home, not yours.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I don’t want to hear any excuses because there’s nothing you can say or do that’ll make me change my mind. You’ve made your bed and must lie in it. I’ll make sure you’re all right, but I won’t be living with you after I’ve married Emmy.’ He stood up. ‘Now I have things to do.’

  He left his mother sobbing, but her tears had lost their power to move him. He should have been firmer with her before, but he’d been young himself when she became his responsibility.

  Leaving the house, he went next to knock on Mr Butterfield’s door. The Chief Clerk opened it himself, in his shirt sleeves and looking harassed. ‘Jack! What’s wrong?’

  ‘I need to speak to you, Mr Butterfield. About Emmy. Can I come in?’

  ‘Haven’t we had enough talk of that creature in this house?’ a woman’s low, throbbing voice demanded from behind them.

  Jack stared in shock at Lena Butterfield, who was wearing a stained house dress with her hair hanging down over her shoulders in tangles. He’d heard she’d gone a bit strange, but now he could see for himself that something was very wrong with her.

  Isaac closed his eyes for a moment as if gathering his strength then led his wife back down the corridor. ‘Go and sit in the kitchen, my dear. I shall only be a minute.’

  ‘But Isaac—’

  He closed the door on her and came back to wave Jack into the front parlour, which looked dusty and unused, with no fire in the grate. ‘My wife is not well, I’m afraid. I hope you will not mention to anyone the state she’s in?’

  ‘Of course not, sir.’

  ‘Even Lal and Dinah don’t know how bad she is.’ He sighed then glanced sharply at his visitor. ‘What brings you to see me on a Sunday, lad?’

  ‘Emmy.’

  ‘She’s not in trouble?’

  ‘I hope not, sir, but my mother has helped drive her away - and Marcus Armistead has, too. I can’t live without her, so I need to go after her and persuade her to marry me.’

  ‘But how shall you find her? You said Mr Bradley refused to tell you where she was.’

  ‘I’ve spoken to Mr Garrett’s coachman who says he took his master and a young maid to Blackburn. His employer was gone for three hours then came back alone. So they can’t have gone far, can they? I’m going to Blackburn and I’ll stay there until I find Emmy. I came to tell you I won’t be at work tomorrow and perhaps not for a few days.’ He hesitated, then added, ‘And if I lose my job for it, I’m sorry, but Emmy’s more important to me than anything else in the whole world.’

  Isaac wished either of his daughters had the power to attract a principled young man like this. ‘Wait a minute.’ He left the room and came back a short while later to press some coins into Jack’s hand. ‘I could do nothing for my sister, but maybe I can help my niece.’

  Jack looked down at his hand, startled to see some gold coins. ‘I can’t take this!’

  ‘You must. My wife did Emmy a serious wrong and it’s been on my conscience ever since. I’ll also tell Mr Rishmore I gave you permission to take time off work. If he dismisses you then he’ll have to dismiss me too.’ Isaac gave a wry smile. ‘And I think he values me too much to do that. I am rather useful to him and he would find it difficult to replace me.’

  Jack’s voice was roughened by emotion as he shook the hand Isaac Butterfield held out and thanked him.

  ‘And when you get back I shall be happy to be seen in public with my niece, if that helps. Now, how shall you get to Blackburn?’

  ‘I thought to hire a trap and leave early tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Excellent idea. You can give my name as surety at the livery stables.’

  Jack went away with a warm feeling inside him. Surely with her uncle on their side Emmy would change her mind about marrying him?

  Marcus Armistead was also making his way to Blackburn that Monday, but he drove there in the luxury of his own coach, arriving by mid-morning. He was so impatient to find Emmy he had not been able to resist following his spy. The thought of getting his hands on her drew him like a magnet. Soon, soon he would have her in his power and this time she would not get away.

  Funny how he could not forget this woman when usually they meant little to him. One was much like the other in bed, he’d found.

  He took a room at a large coaching inn which seemed to promise reasonable comfort and then told his coachman to drive him to Carbury. ‘If we find that young woman, we shall bring her back with us, willing or not. You’d better stop and buy some rope in case we have to restrain her.’

  The man looked at him uncertainly. It was one thing to chase a willing piece of skirt, and good luck to anyone who could have as many women as his master did, but he drew the line at kidnapping which carried stiff penalties in law. ‘Sir, I don’t like the thought of . . .’

  Marcus glared at him. ‘You can either do as you’re told or find another job. Immediately.’

  The coachman bit back further comment, but he was beginning to worry about the wild look in his master’s eyes. He should have got himself another position when the old master died, he really should.

  In Carbury Denny was quickly found and confessed that Emmy Carter had vanished off the face of the earth. Marcus fell into a rage, shouting and hitting out at both men with the lead-weighted walking stick he habitually carried for protection, then sending them out to hunt for the girl.

  But it was in vain. No one had seen her and the villagers were getting suspicious of Denny and his questioning. The other maid was back working for Mrs Dalby so they couldn’t question her.

  ‘If you ask me, there’s a conspiracy here, sir,’ Denny said gloomily. ‘They’ve helped her get away.’

  Marcus felt anger mounting inside him again and ordered his coachman to get the horses put to and drive him to Blackburn. ‘She must have left Carbury by cart or on foot, and neither of those methods will get her very far. She’ll have to pass through Blackburn if she’s going back to Northby, and where else would she go?’

  If they didn’t find her now, he’d wait for her to turn up in the village and make some new plans. Their meeting was only postponed.

  Jack found himself a modest room in Blackburn and left the horse and trap at an equally modest livery stable for the night. Dumping his bag in his room, he spent the rest of the day visiting the other livery stables in the town centre. No one remembered a Mr Garrett or a pretty young woman hiring any vehicles a few weeks previously, and he grew more and more depressed. There had to be some way to find out where she’d gone and this had seemed the most promising path of enquiry.

  What if he didn’t find her?

  The mere though made him stop walking for a moment. Then he shook his head and began moving again. He would find her! Someone must have seen her.

  But the rest of his inquiries led nowhere and as darkness began to fall, he turned to walk slowly back to his lodgings, feeling miserable. Then, in the gathering dusk, he saw a man he recognised - he didn’t remember from where exactly, but he knew that face. He turned to follow the fellow through the streets, which were still crowded enough to slow him down.

  The man went into the yard of a coaching inn and disappeared from view up the stairs of the inn. Jack stayed in the tap room, which had a view of the staircase, ordered a glass of ale and waited. A few minutes later he saw the fellow come down looking sour-faced. To his delight, the man came up to the bar to demand a glass of ale. Something had clearly upset him. Jack edged a bit nearer and watched as the man got talking
to another customer.

  ‘Bloody masters,’ he said, draining his glass and banging on the counter for another. ‘Want you to perform miracles, they do.’ He tapped his forehead which bore a large bruise. ‘Thumped me, he did, just because I didn’t find out what he wanted. If the wench he’s looking for has disappeared, Mr bloody Armistead will just have to manage without her for another day. She won’t be able to hide for long. He’s got enough money to hire a dozen fellows to search for her, he has.’

  When the conversation moved on to a discussion of horses, Jack left his own full glass behind on the bar and moved towards the door.

  The thought that Armistead was still pursuing Emmy made him furious. Who did the fellow think he was to flout the law like this? Well, she seemed to have given him the slip for the moment, but she was in great danger and he needed to find her before anyone else did.

  Racking his brain to think of another way of tracing her, he almost walked past the pregnant woman with the shawl over her head who had been standing outside the inn. It was she who touched his arm.

  ‘Jack? Is that really you?’

  He spun round, unable to believe it could be her. But it was. ‘Emmy! I’ve been looking for you everywhere. No one in Northby would tell me where you’d gone.’

  She glanced round as if terrified. ‘I’ve just seen his groom. I wanted to book a seat on the coach to Northby, only I daren’t go inside the inn now.’

  Jack put his arm round her shoulder, sighing in relief. ‘Let’s get away from here, love.’ With a shaky laugh he held her at arm’s length, nodding towards the swollen belly. ‘What’s this? Rather sudden, isn’t it?’

  He clearly hadn’t even considered the idea that she could really be pregnant. Emmy smiled up at him and whispered, ‘It’s a cushion. Babs thought it’d make a good disguise.’

  ‘She’s right, whoever she is. It’s an excellent disguise. Especially with your hair hidden under that shawl.’

  They walked at random, not saying anything, but somehow her hand found its way into his and its warmth made him feel better than he had for a long time. He stole a glance sideways and as he saw her looking up at him, his feet stopped moving and he drew her towards him. Heedless of the passers-by, he cradled her against him and said firmly, ‘We belong together, Emmy Carter, and you know it. Let’s not have any more silliness about my mother or yours. We’re going to get wed if I have to drag you to the altar.’

  ‘Oh, Jack! I was coming back to Northby to say I’d changed my mind. You’re right, we do belong together. There wasn’t a night I didn’t fall asleep thinking of you or a day when I didn’t feel the lack of you.’ She spoke simply and from the heart. ‘I love you so much, Jack.’

  ‘And I you, Emmy lass. I always have done, I think, right from the first time I saw you fighting off those damned cousins of yours.’

  Someone bumped into them and Jack looked round. ‘Eh, what are we doing standing in the street like this? They may still be out looking for you. We’ll have to find you a room or . . .’ He hesitated, then asked, ‘Do you trust me, love? If so, we’ll go back to my lodgings and you can share mine. I’ll tell them you’re my wife and you’ve come back from your sister’s earlier than I’d expected.’ He looked deep into her eyes. ‘You know I’ll not lay a finger on you until we’re wed, don’t you?’

  She nodded. ‘I know, Jack.’

  Together they walked back down the street, his arm round her shoulders, her head leaning against him. No one gave them a second glance. Young couples expecting children were nothing unusual in those parts.

  In the bedroom, however, she hesitated. Even with Jack she felt nervous. ‘I think Marcus Armistead left me with a fear of men,’ she confessed suddenly. ‘It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just that I can’t seem to forget how he used me ... touched me.’ She shuddered, wrapping her arms round herself, making no move to lie on the bed, though she was clearly exhausted.

  Jack hesitated, wondering how best to deal with this. He dare not let his anger surface, the almost ungovernable rage that filled him every time he thought of what Armistead had done to her. ‘Do you think if you lie under the bedcovers and I lie on top of them, you’ll feel safe?’ he asked. ‘If not, I’ll sleep on the floor.’

  ‘Let’s—lie on the bed.’ Emmy untied the tapes that bound the cushion to her and tried to make a joke about it, but could think of nothing. Removing her shoes, she slid into bed fully dressed and lay there feeling horribly nervous.

  Jack waited till she had sighed and relaxed just a little bit, then kicked his shoes off and sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked.

  She nodded. ‘You can’t sleep on the floor. It’s too cold.’

  Careful not to touch her, he got into bed, lying as close to the edge as he could manage and pulling just the quilt over himself. He sighed. She looked so afraid. Did this mean she would not want him to touch her when they married? Had that man ruined her for a normal life?

  Her voice was hesitant in the darkness. ‘I think I’d like to hold your hand, Jack. Would you mind?’

  His heart lightened a little and he fumbled for her hand, finding it cold as he took it in his big warm one. After a few minutes had passed he whispered, ‘Eh, lass, I can’t believe I found you tonight.’

  But she didn’t answer and when he listened to her slow breathing he realised she had fallen asleep. After they were married he’d teach her not to fear him, he vowed, teach her to enjoy his embraces. If it took years. So he kept hold of her hand and soon he was asleep too, a smile lingering on his face. Half a loaf was better than no bread to a starving man, after all.

  A few streets away in a much larger and more comfortable bedroom Marcus Armistead lay awake for far longer. How could Emmy Carter have vanished like this? He considered finding himself a woman for the night but for some reason he didn’t want anyone but her these days. It was infuriating and very frustrating.

  She’d pay dearly for treating him thus! He’d make sure of that.

  She couldn’t hide from him for ever.

  19

  Prudence Bradley glanced casually out of the window and what she saw sent her rushing into her husband’s study. ‘Come quickly! Jack’s brought Emmy back and they both look - strange.’ Well, Emmy looked to be with child, but this couldn’t possibly be in the short time since she’d left Northby.

  Gerald looked up from his sermon with a frown. ‘I thought your protégée had decided to make a new life for herself? A decision I agreed with absolutely. Jack has other responsibilities.’

  Prudence waved one hand dismissively. ‘Oh, rubbish! They love one another and it’d be shameful to keep them apart. Besides, he’s done more than enough for his mother who’s always complaining about something and quite sets my teeth on edge. It’s about time he thought of his own needs for a change.’ She whisked out of the room and hurried into the kitchen in time to see Cass open the back door and shriek in delight.

  ‘You’re back!’ Then she noticed Emmy’s stomach and gaped at it. ‘What’s happened?’

  Emmy looked down. She had forgotten the pillow. ‘It’s not real, just a disguise.’ She had sat in the trap on the way here with her false belly poking out and her face and hair hidden under a shawl. Jack had rubbed dirt on his face, slouched in his seat and pulled his hat down over his eyes. When Marcus Armistead’s carriage had overtaken them on the road to Northby they had both held their breath because he had two men with him. But it had driven straight past without anyone recognising them.

  Emmy noticed her former mistress standing at the other side of the kitchen and smiled at her. ‘Oh, Mrs Bradley, it’s wonderful to see you all again!’

  Before she could cross the room there was a yelp from outside and Hercules pushed past Jack’s legs to burst inside ahead of him. The dog immediately began jumping up at her, yelping, barking and trying to lick her face or any part of her he could reach. In the end she knelt down and clasped him in her arms, laying her face against his poin
ted furry head for a moment, enduring more licks but gradually calming him down. ‘I missed you, boy. Have you been good while I was away? And who told you to come in here, eh?’

  Jack was pleased to see her open joy at being reunited with the dog, but his smile faded a little as he realised she could not touch him with the same freedom - or let him touch her.

  ‘Don’t I get a proper greeting as well?’ Mrs Bradley demanded in mock anger, hands on hips.

  Emmy stood up, feeling suddenly uncertain what to do next, but Prudence gave her a big hug, after which Cass did the same and even Cook came across to pat her shoulder and say gruffly, ‘About time you came home, young woman.’

  Home? thought Emmy wonderingly. Yes, Northby did feel like home now.

  ‘Well, Jack,’ Prudence said quietly, guessing by his expression that he felt left out, ‘you found her then?’

  ‘Aye. Well, she found me, really, Mrs Bradley. She was already on her way back.’

  ‘You’d better come through and tell me and Parson exactly what’s been happening.’ She put one arm round Emmy and led the way. Hercules pushed in front of Jack again, desperate to stay next to his beloved owner.

  ‘Eh, she looks like she’s seen some hard times lately, doesn’t she?’ Cass murmured to Cook when they had gone. ‘But I wish someone would look at me the way Jack Staley looks at her.’

  ‘Stop sighing for what you can’t have, my girl, and make them some tea. They look chilled to the marrow.’

  In the front parlour Jack stood behind Emmy, keeping very close to her as they waited for Mrs Bradley to fetch her husband. Emmy turned her head to smile at him and he laid one hand on her shoulder. The dog pressed itself against her, smiling as dogs do when they’re with their favourite people, its tail thumping against her skirt in a regular rhythm. Occasionally he would swipe a lick at her hand.