by Val Wood
‘Discuss what?’ she asked sharply. ‘I’m not on ’game, nor ever will be.’
His reply was equally brusque. ‘That’s not what I’m asking. But there’s summat which might be beneficial to us both. But I’m not saying owt down here in this miserable alley. Will you come an’ have summat to eat and we can talk face to face?’
That was fair enough, she thought. There’d be no harm in that, and if I don’t like what he’s proposing then at least I’ll have had my supper.
She led him towards a tavern off the Market Place where reputedly the food was wholesome and the ale good. She ordered a meat pie and a glass of ale and he did the same. The smells coming from the kitchen were delicious and she tried not to wolf the food down when it came; the meat was tender, the crust crumbly and the gravy thick. It was served with mashed potatoes and cabbage and she couldn’t remember ever having eaten so well.
Noah Tuke eyed her when she was finished and said, ‘Do you fancy some apple pie? You seemed hungry.’
She swallowed a small belch and patted her chest. ‘I haven’t been able to eat since my ma died.’ She refrained from telling him she had barely enough money to buy food. ‘I didn’t have ’heart to cook or eat whilst she was still in ’room wi’ me.’
He suppressed a shudder. ‘Is ’funeral over wi’ now?’
‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘It’s done. So what did you want to talk about?’ Better get it over with, she thought.
He turned first to the landlord and ordered two portions of apple pie and two more glasses of ale, and she considered that money or lack of it didn’t seem to be a problem to him. Is he softening me up for some purpose?
He waited for the ale to be brought and put his elbows on the table. ‘You’ll think this odd,’ he began. ‘And I suppose it is, and you don’t know me, but then neither do I know you, so we’re on equal footing in that respect. I’d guess that you’re on your uppers. Any woman who has to work at night must be. I suppose you work during ’day as well?’
She nodded reluctantly. ‘At one of ’flour mills.’ She did not tell him that she’d been put on short time.
‘An’ I gather that you’ve no husband or bairns either?’
‘What’s this leading up to?’ she broke in. ‘Why would you be wanting my history?’
‘Cos I want everything straight in my head before I say owt. Your ma’s just died, your brother’s gone abroad, and you’ve got nobody. Am I right?’
Her eyes filled with tears and her mouth trembled just as a serving girl put the apple pie in front of them. Harriet stared down at it and knew that no matter how she wanted it, it would choke her if she tried to eat.
She blinked rapidly but couldn’t speak and took a sip of ale. She swallowed and then muttered, ‘Ma was all I had. I’m devastated that she died so quickly.’ She took a deep sobbing breath. ‘I don’t know what to do.’
His mouth twitched and he looked away, and then picked up his spoon and began to eat.
‘Well, this is what I’m proposing,’ he said, ignoring her tears. ‘I’m unmarried. I telled you already that I live further up ’river. I’m a farmer and I’m seeking a wife. I reckon that you’ll do well enough. What do you say?’
CHAPTER FOUR
Harriet gazed at him without speaking. He wasn’t exactly handsome; he was of average height and sturdily built with a straight back, a long nose and a firm bristly chin, and his hair was black, which she thought made him look foreign. He wasn’t smiling, but had an intent expression in his dark eyes. Looks don’t matter when choosing a mate, she thought. Kindness and generosity of spirit were more important in her opinion, but he hadn’t mentioned either of those things. It would seem to be a matter of requirement only.
‘Why me?’ she asked. ‘You don’t know me. I might be a scold or a harridan.’
‘You might be, and I might be a rogue. We’d have to tek a chance on that.’ But then he smiled as he looked back at her. ‘But I don’t think you are. I’d know. I’d be able to tell.’
‘What would be ’advantage for me? I’d want to be married in church; mek it proper and binding.’
‘Well, I don’t hold wi’ all that mumbo jumbo, but yes, I’d want it legal and binding, and as for ’advantage to you – you’d have a roof over your head and food on ’table; you’d have to work on ’farm, feeding ’hens an’ that, but nowt you couldn’t cope wi’. You look strong enough. I wouldn’t want a weakling. But more important …’ His voice dropped. ‘I’d want bairns – sons to carry on ’farm.’
‘How long have you been looking for a wife?’ she asked.
He looked away. ‘For a bit. Not seen anybody else that took my eye.’
In spite of herself she was flattered. He wasn’t the kind of man she was attracted to, but there were few men who would want a woman of twenty-three, even though she was fit and healthy.
‘I’d have to think about it,’ she murmured. ‘It’s a bolt out of ’blue. It’s not every day somebody asks me to marry them.’
He shook his head. ‘I need to know. What are your options, Harriet? Have you got a line o’ suitors waiting? Have you got ’chance o’ better work?’ He leaned towards her and whispered softly, ‘Have you got enough money to pay your rent for that hovel you’re living in?’
She hadn’t got any of those things, she reflected, her spirits plummeting. ‘When do you need to know?’
‘Tonight. I don’t want to mek any more journeys to this town except for one to fetch you home. Mek arrangements for ’banns to be read, if you agree; it’s got to be in your parish.’
‘What will ’vicar think?’ she murmured. ‘I’ve onny just buried my mother!’
‘I shouldn’t think he’d care less. An’ it’s not his business what you do. All he should be concerned wi’ is that it’s been done right an’ proper.’
Harriet put her hand over her mouth. ‘I’ve no clothes to wear for a wedding. Nothing to bring to a marriage.’
‘What sort of excuse is that?’ he asked. ‘If you marry me I’ll be responsible for providing for you.’
She gazed at him. What a relief that would be, she thought. No more worrying about where the next crust was coming from. She looked down at the apple pie. The sauce was beginning to cool and form a skin.
‘If you agree, I’ll give you some money to buy a decent frock or skirt or whatever you need.’
‘You’d trust me wi’ money? What if I spent it and then disappeared?’
‘I’d not give you that much to mek it worthwhile; an’ if you did I’d come an’ find you.’ He gave a lopsided grin but somehow she didn’t think he was joking. He didn’t seem the humorous sort.
She looked nervously about her as if the room, the serving girl and the few customers could help her make a decision. Rain was pattering on the windows; it would be cold at home without a fire.
‘All right,’ she said impulsively. ‘I will. I’ll see ’vicar tomorrow. He can read ’first banns on Sunday.’
‘Good.’ He rose from the table and called to the landlord for the bill and Harriet looked at the apple pie again.
‘Can I tek this home wi’ me?’ she asked. ‘I can’t eat it now. I’ll bring ’dish back tomorrow.’
The landlord glanced at her dubiously and then at Noah standing over him. ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘All right, tek it. I’ll put a paper bag over it.’
Harriet watched as Noah paid him and left a small tip. It wasn’t generous; it was extra but wouldn’t cover the price of a pie dish if she didn’t return it.
Noah put his arm on her shoulder as he ushered her out. ‘I’ll set you home,’ he said. ‘I’ve left ’hoss at ’George.’
‘There’s no need,’ she began, but he interrupted.
‘There’s every need,’ he said. ‘I need to keep you safe, don’t I? You know what you have to do? Go an’ see your vicar, give notice to ’landlord that you’re leaving.’ He glanced at her. ‘Or are you in arrears?’
‘Yes,’ she said weakly. ‘Three weeks
. I’ll have to pay him if I give notice.’
He sniffed. ‘In that case don’t bother telling him. Damned landlords, they mek plenty out o’ folks. Just sell whatever stuff you’ve got.’
‘I might bring one or two things,’ she said.
‘Aye, trinkets mebbe, nowt else. We don’t need furniture.’
It began to rain heavily as they walked towards Blackfriargate and Harriet hoped that the alley wasn’t flooded. She pulled her shawl over her head, trying at the same time not to drop the pie dish. I’ll have that for my breakfast, she thought, before I go to ’church.
Noah was talking. ‘So, I’ll be back in just over three weeks. Mek ’date on ’Monday after ’third reading of banns. Tell him. Tell him that’s ’date you want, in late afternoon. About four. It’ll be getting dark by then an’ I’ll have finished ’jobs on ’farm.’
‘I expect you have a busy life?’ she offered. ‘Allus summat to do.’
‘Aye, that’s right. This is your entry, isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Well done. Not everybody can find their way.’ She opened her door and he followed her inside.
‘I know my way about,’ he said. ‘Here, give us that.’ He took the dish from her and put it on the table. ‘Have you got a light?’
‘Yes,’ she said nervously, slightly afraid now that she was alone with him. She struck a match and lit the stub of candle, shorter now than it had been when he came last time. She’d tried to be sparing with it, but it wouldn’t last the night. ‘I’m sorry there’s no fire.’
He delved into his coat and brought out his pocket book. ‘How much will you need for clothes?’ he asked. ‘And a bucket o’ coal?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t ever recall buying any. And coal?’ She shrugged. ‘I can manage without if I’m leaving in three weeks.’
‘I’ll give you five shillings. You’ll have to pay ’parson for ’banns, I expect.’
‘Will I?’
‘He’s got to live, hasn’t he, though I expect he’ll have a private income. Barter him down if you can. Buy yourself some food. Don’t want you all skin and bone when I tek you home. And get a candle.’
She gave a wan smile; was he being kind or just practical?
He put five shillings on the table. ‘That should be enough.’
Harriet closed her eyes. She’d never had so much money; she must surely be doing the right thing in agreeing to marry him. Then she gasped as he turned and put his arms about her waist.
‘A little kiss to seal our commitment, hey?’
She held her face up to his; it was to be expected, she supposed. A pact, and he’d want to know she wasn’t a prude.
He kissed her roughly, his stubble scratching her face, and then he lifted her chin and kissed her full on the mouth, his lips covering hers so that she could taste his ale and the meal they had shared.
‘You’re a fine-lookin’ woman, Harriet. How is it that nobody’s snatched you up afore? Not strait-laced and frigid, are you?’
‘No.’ She gave a nervous laugh. ‘But neither am I wanton.’
He pulled her closer then swung her round so that she had her back to the wall. ‘You can be wanton wi’ me, now that we’ve agreed to marriage.’ He pulled up her skirts and spoke softly in her ear. ‘I saw a feller at ’George trying to put his hand up your skirt and you fended him off. Let them know that you weren’t available to just anybody, didn’t you?’
‘Yes.’ She tried to push him away. ‘And – and I’d rather wait till—’
‘No,’ he said. ‘We don’t have to wait for ’marriage bed. Not now.’
She gasped as his hands roamed and squeezed her flesh – her buttocks, her belly, her breasts – and then he held her with one firm hand as he unbuttoned his breeches.
‘Please don’t,’ she pleaded. ‘I’d want it to be special on our wedding day.’
‘Poppycock,’ he muttered. ‘Anyway, I’m all fired up. I can’t stop now. Come on, let’s find out what’s in front of us.’
She almost screamed as he tore violently into her. It had been five years since she had been with Charlie, before he was lost at sea, and this man was nothing like him. He was rough and hasty, rigorous and unrelenting as he took her with no thought for her feelings or her pain.
He grunted as he finally pulled away from her. ‘Phew,’ he muttered. ‘I was ready for that.’
Like being hungry and then eating your fill, she thought bitterly as he buttoned himself up. Dear God, what have I done?
He took his leave then, saying he had to walk back to collect his horse from where he had left it at the George and Dragon, but she barely listened. All she was aware of was her own heart racing and the tremble in her legs.
‘I’ll see you in three weeks,’ he repeated. ‘Remember what you have to do? Be ready. I shan’t want to hang about.’ He paused for a minute, his hand on the door sneck. ‘We’ll need witnesses, won’t we?’
Harriet shook her head. She didn’t know.
‘Aw, we’ll pull somebody in from ’street,’ he said brusquely. ‘Give ’em a tanner for a drink, that should satisfy ’em.’ He looked closely at her. ‘I’ll come here to fetch you and we’ll go to church together. I’ll bring ’trap.’
She nodded. She seemed to have lost the ability to speak.
‘Cat got your tongue?’ He leaned towards her and lifted her skirt again, squeezing her buttocks. ‘You’ve got a fine behind, Harriet. Nice and rounded, better than I’d hoped for.’
He dropped his hand, opened the door and was gone out into the darkness and the pelting rain.
CHAPTER FIVE
Harriet wept all night. She wept because of her stupidity, she wept for her mother, and she wept for the plight that she and all women like her were in.
Towards dawn she dropped into an uneasy sleep and was woken later by someone banging on her door. She rolled out of bed and was astonished to realize that she was still wearing her skirt and blouse from the previous day. She must have dropped on to the bed just as she was and curled up in her distress.
‘Who is it?’ she called.
‘Rent!’
She recognized the gruff voice of the landlord’s agent and scanned the room. The money left by Noah Tuke was still on the table. ‘Just a minute,’ she shouted. ‘I’m not dressed.’
She scooped up the money, bar sixpence, and put it in her skirt pocket, then ran her fingers through her tousled hair and went to the door.
‘All right for some folk,’ he commented. ‘Nowt to do but stop in bed all day.’
‘Tell you what. I’ll swap you,’ she said. ‘You can have my non-existent job o’ work and I’ll have yours, collecting money from folks who have nowt.’
He opened up the rent book. ‘It’s not my money.’ He raised his eyes. ‘Have you got ’rent? You’re in arrears, like everybody else.’
Harriet opened her palm. ‘Sixpence,’ she said. ‘That’s all I’ve got. Either you have it or ’butcher does for some stinking meat.’
He gave a deep sigh and took it and dropped it into his battered leather bag, then glanced up at her again. ‘Where’s your ma? She’s generally here to mek excuses.’
Harriet bit her lip. ‘Dead,’ she muttered. ‘Buried her last week.’
‘Oh, sorry. Poor old lass. Pauper funeral, was it?’
Harriet hesitated; she couldn’t lie over such a thing. She shook her head. ‘Vicar found a place for her in ’churchyard wi’ my sister, but he didn’t charge, except for a penny to light a candle.’
He nodded sympathetically. ‘She’s happen better off where she is. Not much future for such as us, is there?’
Harriet felt even more dispirited at his dismal words, but she was surprised and grateful when he put his hand back in the bag and brought out a penny.
‘It’ll not be missed,’ he said, handing it to her with a sly wink. ‘I can easy lose a penny.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’ll do my best for next week.’
‘A
ye,’ he replied. ‘Don’t worry about it, I might not call. It’s no skin off my nose.’
She closed the door and went back to sit on the bed. He’s right, she thought. There isn’t any future. No work, no rent, no roof. So what do I do? Although Noah Tuke had left her smarting both physically and mentally, she realized that he had offered her a lifeline, an opportunity to climb out of the pit she was in.
I’ll ask for ’banns to be read, she decided, even if I don’t go through with ’marriage. I’ve every right to change my mind at ’last minute if I want to. But something told her that if she did default on her promise, then he’d come looking for her to demand his money back. And by then, she considered, it might well be spent.
As she jangled the money in her pocket, she thought that it would be nice to buy a new set of clothes. Well, not exactly new, she amended; there wouldn’t be enough for brand new, but good second hand.
She ran through her options. Try for work once more, do the usual rounds of begging for employment in the inns and taverns for night time, and maybe, she thought, I could try for some other work during the day. I’ll go to some of the other mills. I’ve plenty of experience and they’d be pleased to have me. But she knew she was fooling herself; there were others just like her, and they were all chasing the same jobs.
Or I marry him as I promised, in spite of his insufferable behaviour. What sort of man is he to act like that with a woman he’s just met, even if he has asked her to marry him? Is he telling me the truth about himself? He obviously has some money, or how could he afford to shell out for supper and ale and give me money to buy clothes and pay for ’banns to be read? But his coat and breeches were nothing special; mebbe he’s been saving up for this, mebbe he just decided that ’time had come to look for a wife. He must need somebody to help him on his farm.
She hugged her arms around herself. It’s freezing in here. I wonder what sort of farmhouse he lives in? She allowed herself the luxury of imagining a proper brick house in the middle of the country, with chickens at the door and their own cow for milk and a blazing fire in the kitchen grate. But how has he been managing until now? Who’s cooked his dinner, and done his washing? He never mentioned a family. Has his ma died, just like mine?
