by Gracie Hart
‘What do you mean you regret leaving something behind?’ she asked. ‘And are getting over your loss? Oh, William! Was a woman the reason you left Cambridge? Did she break your heart?’
‘You ask too much, my little sister. But yes, it was a woman. She was called Amelia and I was smitten and all was going well until she decided my friend Samuel was a better option for her. Better connected, you see; I’m just a miner’s son, from up north. Father might be well off but for certain people we’ll never be good enough. Samuel is the godson of the Earl of Leicester, much better suited for a millionaire’s daughter. Mother knows, but she didn’t tell Father; you know he’d have no time for matters of the heart. Women don’t rank high in his life, and I feel he always looks down on the fairer sex. Anyway, he’d never understand that I had to leave because I was broken-hearted, so it’s best he never gets told.’ William bowed his head, remembering his love of Amelia and how flippant she had been with his affections, especially when she had laughed at the ring that he had thought was worthy of her hand in marriage. Which had led her to telling him that Samuel, his best friend, or so he had thought, had been courting her behind his back and it was his hand in marriage she intended to take.
‘Oh, William, I knew there was something wrong. Why didn’t you tell me earlier? You know I’d wouldn’t say anything to Father.’ Grace squeezed her brother’s hand tight.
‘I’ll get over it, and it will be good to be home for Christmas. Mother was glad to see me even if father wasn’t. And baby George seems to have taken to me. Besides, there’s plenty more fish in the sea, so they say. I’ll live.’ William shrugged his shoulders and smiled wanly at Grace.
‘Was she really a millionaire’s daughter? What was she like?’ Grace questioned her brother. ‘How could she court your best friend? He must be nothing more than a cad, to go behind your back like that. I hope that Samuel Westbury never comes near our home again.’
‘Yes, her father has lots of money. He’d made his fortune in sugar and rum from the Jamaicas and yes, she is very, very beautiful. And I’m trying desperately to forget her, so stop your questions, Grace, before I make a fool of myself. I not only lost her but also my dearest friend, who I had shared all my deepest confidences with. I’ve been such a fool, I should be hard like our father.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just knew there was something wrong.’ Grace took her brother’s arm as they walked along Aberford Road towards the heart of the village.
‘I’ll forgive you. Now, let’s look at the amazing display of gifts that are available in Woodlesford compared to Leeds,’ William said sarcastically, while glancing in the butcher’s window at his display of poultry and pigs trotters that adorned the window next to the workshop of Eliza and Mary-Anne. ‘Besides, is it not time you found yourself a husband? Or is no one good enough for my little sister?’
‘I’m not ready for a man in my life; in fact, I don’t think I will ever get married. From what I’ve seen, women are better off without them.’ Grace went and hastily stepped next to the little dress shop that had caught her eye. ‘You may joke, William Ellershaw, but to be quite honest I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful dress than this one in this window.’ Grace pressed her nose up to the glass of the little lean-to that had seen better days, and gazed at the green organza dress displayed there. ‘I’ve got to have it, it’s perfect for the Eshald House dance. You know how we ladies have to look our best for that event, whether we are in the market for a man or not.’
‘Don’t be daft, this is clearly a second-hand shop. The girl back there probably got it given from her mistress … a hand-me-down, is that what you want to be seen in?’ William gazed through the window and watched as Eliza concentrated on her sewing.
‘I don’t care where it came from, I’ve got to have it!’ Grace opened the paint-worn door and entered into the small wooden lean-to that was Mary-Anne’s and Eliza’s workshop.
Mary-Anne looked up from her sewing and knew instantly who her customer was. She was Edmund Ellershaw’s daughter, Grace – spoilt, headstrong and wealthy – and behind her stood her brother William, who everyone knew to be a disappointment to his father, but would one day be very wealthy when he inherited his father’s pit and the woollen mills in Leeds owned by his grandfather. She smiled and quickly glanced at Eliza before standing up from her sewing.
‘May I help you?’ She walked towards the couple, noticing that William looked uncomfortable in the shabby surroundings.
‘Yes, I couldn’t help but notice the beautiful dress in the window. May I have a closer look?’ Grace looked at the older of the two sisters and couldn’t help but admire her clear complexion and vibrant auburn hair, and had a fleeting thought that, with her colouring, the dress would suit the shop girl even better than it suited her.
‘Of course, miss. Is it for yourself? It is quite special.’ Mary-Anne walked over to the window and took the dress from the display, draping the many folds of organza over her arm and showing Grace the intricate stitching on the tight bodice. ‘You’ll notice how the neckline would show off your beautiful slim neck beautifully and I believe the waist will fit you perfectly once laced up.’
‘It’s beautiful.’ Grace smiled at Mary-Anne. ‘Did you make it?’ Her eyes could not hide her love of the dress as she held it against her and smiled at her reflection in the old mirror at the back of the cabin.
‘My sister, Eliza.’ Mary-Anne turned to her young sister. ‘She is the seamstress of the two of us; I’m proficient in mending but Eliza can make anything from nothing and make the most beautiful garments.’ Mary-Anne looked over at Eliza and gave her a long stare, hoping that she’d go along with the lie.
‘So, it’s not second-hand? You’ve sewn it from scratch?’ William felt the quality of the material and looked at his sister’s face who was truly enamoured by the dress, holding it next to her and looking at herself again and again in the aged full-length mirror that stood on the wall.
‘It’s a new line that we are trying. It cost quite a bit to make but it is something we thought worthwhile doing, and I enjoy designing my own dresses.’ Mary-Anne got up from her work desk and smiled at William and his sister.
‘Well, you are to be congratulated. It is so beautiful, don’t you think, William?’ Grace turned to her brother who was busy looking around the workshop.
‘Indeed, my dear. Are you going to buy it? Is it your size?’ William smiled at his sister and looked at Mary-Anne who was smiling at him unashamedly.
‘You suit it perfectly, miss, and if it doesn’t fit when you take it home, Eliza can always alter it, but I think it will fit like a glove and that it has just been waiting for you to come along.’ Mary-Anne looked at Grace and knew that she had made a sale.
Grace looked for a price on the dress. ‘How much is it?’
‘A guinea, miss. We couldn’t let it go for any less. We barely make anything as it is.’ Eliza smiled at the pair and noticed they did not flinch at the price.
‘That’s quite reasonable, isn’t it, William? In fact I will take it and please accept an extra sixpence for you to deliver it to my home at Highfield.’ Grace rummaged in her posy bag for payment. ‘Oh, dear, I’ve forgotten to pick up the money from my bureau! William, may I ask you to pay for the garment? I feel such a fool.’
‘Really, Grace, you would forget your head some days.’ William reached into his inner pocket and pulled out his wallet, handing the guinea over to Mary-Anne. ‘There’s no need to deliver the dress; we’ll take it now.’ His hand lingered with the payment as he looked into Mary-Anne’s emerald-green eyes.
‘Thank you, sir.’ Mary-Anne passed the dress and the money to Eliza who started to wrap the dress up in brown paper, her face betraying the fact that William had put stop to an extra sixpence.
‘Don’t be so miserly, William, give the girls the sixpence anyway. They’ve probably earned it and I would have paid double the price for the dress in Leeds.’ Grace smiled and looke
d around the shop. ‘Would you make me further dresses and outfits if I asked?’ She ran her hand down the skirt of one of their mothers dresses that the two sisters had just placed on the old tailor’s dummy they’d found discarded outside one of the fashion shops in Leeds and turned to smile at Eliza. ‘It would save me travelling into Leeds and Father always says we should support local industry.’
‘Of course, miss, we could take your measurements and then we could fit the perfect dress.’ Eliza drew a sharp breath in, hoping that she could fulfil her request. Little white lies about the dress she had remade were one thing but promising a young lady new designs without knowing where the material to do so was going to appear from was quite another.
‘Then you will be seeing me again shortly.’ Grace smiled at the two sisters as William placed the parcelled dress under his arm after scowling at his sister for making him give an extra sixpence for nothing. ‘I will return if the dress does not fit, but I’m sure it will be perfect.’
‘Thank you, miss … sir.’ Both Eliza and Mary-Anne curtsied and smiled as the couple made their way out of the shop. They watched as they walked down the road together smiling, Grace Ellershaw linking her arm into her brother’s as he carried the package and his swagger stick under the other arm.
‘Hell’s bells, Mary, you were cheeky! A guinea and she made him pay the extra sixpence!’ Eliza grinned from ear to ear as she looked at the money on her sewing desk.
‘Aye, and what about you and your new line of dresses?’ Mary-Anne laughed at her sister. ‘I bet she’ll be back. She fell for that dress, hook, line and sinker, she didn’t care that we might not have sewn it ourselves – the devil might have done for all she cared – and she had to have it.’ Mary-Anne laughed. ‘At least we’ll not go hungry this week and I can pay the rent when the tallyman comes at the end of the month.’
‘And what about if she comes back for something else? I know I can sew, but we won’t be able to buy the material that she will expect her dress to made of, nor perhaps style it the way she wants.’ Eliza looked at her sister and could have sworn at her for being so confident in her skills.
‘You can sew anything and you know you can, and as for material, when it’s needed we will ask her for money up front. She won’t think anything of it, she’s a spoilt rich girl.’ Mary-Anne grinned. ‘We’ll go and see Ma Fletcher at the start of next week and see what she’s got in and go and see Aunt Patsy, I feel guilty at not letting her know that our mother died. We were too caught up on our own grief … Besides, Bill wanted to keep her death within our direct family, I think he was ashamed of how she died.’ Mary-Anne looked at the money that could never replace their mother but at the same time eased the situation.
‘We couldn’t have done anything else, Mary. Bill wouldn’t allow us to tell her and he made it clear he’d not have let he come to the funeral. You know he hated her.’ Eliza hung her head. ‘Besides I keep thinking about when we found in mother’s bedroom. I really do think she took it on purpose and that it was more than a tonic. After all, that’s what Aunt Patsy is known for.’
‘I know, but why would she do that?’ Mary-Anne looked at her sister. ‘We might not have loved Bill, but she did and I’d have thought she’d have wanted his baby.’
‘She knew she couldn’t really afford another mouth to feed. Because, let’s face it, Bill was not to be relied upon. We should have done more to bring the money in.’ Eliza sighed.
‘We did all we could. As it is let’s greet tomorrow with a bit more hope, we can’t bring mother back but we can make her be proud of us.’ Mary-Anne smiled and pocketed the coins. ‘William Ellershaw is a bit handsome, isn’t he?’
‘He is, but he’s not daft, he knew that dress wasn’t new.’ Eliza grinned.
‘Doesn’t matter, our Eliza, we still got his brass and that’s all that matters. And we’ll have more of it if we are canny with his sister.’ Mary-Anne felt for the comfort of the money in her pocket and thought about the business Grace Ellershaw could pass their way. She and Eliza would survive even though they may have to lie through their teeth to do so.
Ten
‘What do you think, Father? Is it not perfect?’ Grace Ellershaw flaunted her new dress in front of her father as he sat next to the fire in the parlour of Highfield.
Edmund looked up and looked at his radiant daughter in a new dress yet again.
‘Aye, it’s all right. Have you been spending my brass again?’
‘No, she’s been spending mine,’ William quickly added.
‘Well, then I’m right, it is mine you’ve been spending.’ Edmund folded his paper and looked at Grace. ‘Where did you get that from then?’
‘I found it in Woodlesford, would you believe? At that little shed-like thing next to the butcher’s. It was in the window and I just couldn’t leave it.’ Grace sat down next to her father, making sure the green organza was shown off to its best as she titivated the many layers of the dress.
‘You mean you bought it off Sarah Parker’s two lasses? I can’t see them two having anything as good as this in their window, they usually sell second-hand tat from Leeds market. They’d take the clothes of your back as soon as look at you, them two.’ Edmund grunted. ‘I hope you didn’t pay a lot for it.’
‘A guinea, which I thought was a fair price.’ Grace looked down at herself with pride.
‘Aye, and they probably bought it for tuppence and did their best to make it look new. You’ve been robbed!’ Edmund knew the sisters by sight and reputation. The youngest had been a regular visitor to the pit when she brought Bill his snap that he often forgot. But the elder he’d hardly knew, and hadn’t seen her for a while.
‘That’s what I thought, Father,’ William spouted. ‘I told her she was being conned, that they wouldn’t have made it from new.’
‘Then you should have stopped her from buying it, you useless bugger. As it is the money will only come back into my pocket anyway; they’ll need to pay the rent on their cottage end of this week, else they are out. I can’t afford to have them sitting in one of my cottages, now their mother’s dead and their stepfather’s buggered off. He always was a useless devil.’
‘Well, I think you are both wrong; this dress I was assured was hand-made and I’m actually thinking of employing them to make me another. And how could you be so heartless, Father, if that has happened to them both, just before Christmas as well. You could at least wait to see if they manage to pay you.’
‘If you do go back, Grace,’ William said, ‘perhaps I’ll come with you. I wouldn’t mind another glance of the older sister, she’s a pretty thing with that long auburn hair and pale skin.’
‘Tha wants nowt to do with either of them. Their mother was a whore and their father a drunk, and if they are anything like either they’d eat you up and spit you out lad,’ Edmund said sharply – he didn’t want his son to have anything to do with the pair, let alone Grace with her hair-brained ideas of employing them to make her dresses. ‘And you keep away from them, our Grace. Get yourself into Leeds and to a proper dressmaker, and stop spending my brass on some trollops.’
‘Whatever you say, Father, but she is beautiful.’ William bowed his head and noticed the smile that his sister gave him as she recognised a new interest in a woman after his heartbreak, even if she was entirely unsuitable. He also noticed that she did not reply to her father, which meant her head was set on giving the two sisters another visit.
‘Aye, well, beauty is only skin deep; remember that, both of you,’ Edmund growled.
‘You prefer money, don’t you, my dear?’ Catherine Ellershaw looked up from her sewing. ‘After all, is that not what you married me for?’ She watched as her husband thought of something biting to say in front of his two children.
‘I married thee for thy money and thy looks; I got the best of both worlds.’ Edmund gave a withering smile to his wife. ‘That’s what you two want to do. Brass and beauty, you can’t go wrong with both.’ Edmund went back to his paper.<
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‘I’d say, children, that you marry for love, although good connections and breeding come into play in our polite society and nobody wants a donkey on their arm. Do they, William? A pretty little thing is to be preferred.’ Catherine smiled at both her children.
‘Well, the Parker sisters are certainly not donkeys, they are both quite beautiful and gifted.’ Grace beamed at her brother. ‘Our William, I think, is quite besotted with them, I can tell.’ She chuckled and tenderly touched her dress as she looked coyly at her brother who was turning a bright shade of red in fear of what his sister was going to say next.
‘You keep away from them, do you hear? They’ll bring nowt but heartache to you, my lad. If you are that desperate go down to the quayside in Leeds and get what a red-blooded male at your age needs – a good time with a woman who knows exactly what to do – instead of wasting your money on second-hand dresses from trollops. The prick-pinchers will satisfy you and not make demands on you. At least tha knows it’s a fair bargain then.’ Edmund’s face turned a deep shade of purple and red as his voice rose in anger at his son and scandalised daughter. ‘No son of mine will be associated with those two bitches so get that into your head.’ Edmund threw his paper down and stood next to the fireplace scowling down on his family group.
‘Edmund, I don’t think there is any need for such vulgar talk in our home, especially in front of Grace and me. In fact a decent family man would not know of such things, let alone suggest his son go and ask for their services. I feel quite faint thinking about what you have just said. William, for once you don’t heed your father’s advice, and Grace, try to forget what your father has just said.’ Catherine Ellershaw composed herself and looked at her husband, regretting once again the day she had married him.
All three looked up at the man, who seemed to have got upset over nothing more than a second-hand dress and where it had come from. They knew their father spoke as he liked, but never as rudely as this before.
