by Diane Allen
Rosie blushed as she realized what Ethan had said. She enjoyed his company too, his easy ways with animals and his knowledge of plants and flowers. She looked across at him. He was handsome in his corduroy breeches, striped shirt and tight-fitting waistcoat. His curly dark hair matched his almost black eyes, which looked at her, waiting with anticipation for her answer.
‘I’d like that – I’d like that a lot.’ Rosie grinned. ‘Father and Grandfather are always away at the market on a Tuesday, so let’s make Tuesday afternoon our time together and not tell anyone.’
‘That would suit me; we get on so well and I enjoy your company.’ Ethan smiled, showing his perfectly white teeth to Rosie.
‘Good, that’s a deal. Let’s meet at the end of the wood, and then no one will see us. I don’t think my mother would be happy with me mixing with the new stable lad,’ Rosie whispered.
‘You mean it would be the gypsy part of me that she wouldn’t want you to mix with. But she should know that my mother and father are both respectable, and that my father doesn’t wander the lanes and roads like his own father did.’ Ethan bowed his head.
‘Have you ever met your grandfather?’ Rosie asked quietly.
‘Nay, never. My father said he left my grandmother expecting him, and only came back once in a while when he was a lad. He must be a good age now. He’s probably dead in a ditch somewhere – best spot for him. Although I’m curious to see how his sort live. I’ve always fancied going to Appleby Fair, but my father won’t hear of it; he says he wants nowt with them ways. But whether he likes it or not, he takes after his father, for nobody can handle a horse like my father, or judge a person just by looking at them – he sometimes knows what I’m thinking better than I do myself.’ Ethan looked out over the Dales and pulled at a stalk of fell grass, putting the stalk in his mouth to chew on, as he thought about his lost family and the yearly horse fair at Appleby, which all Romany gypsies attended in order to meet up with their families.
‘I’ve noticed the caravans and horses on the roadsides lately. It’s Appleby Fair very soon, isn’t it?’ Rosie put her arm through Ethan’s and smiled.
‘Aye, second week in June. They hold it on Gallows Hill, just outside Appleby. I’d love to go and just look around. I’m not bothered about my grandfather, he’s not worth looking for. Who could walk out on a woman who was having your baby? He should have done right by her and settled down to a life in Settle. But I would like to see something I’ve heard about all my life and perhaps, just for once, feel as if I fit in.’ Ethan hung his head and twiddled the piece of grass between his fingers.
‘You should go. As you say, see what goes on there. Your curiosity will be satisfied then.’ Rosie looked at the young man who had been the main topic of conversation in Crummock’s kitchen. Her grandfather and father did not understand how her Aunt Isabelle could not keep Ethan in employment, after he had saved her son from drowning. ‘I could come with you.’
Ethan lifted his head. ‘You couldn’t come with me – your parents would not allow it. Besides, how do we get there? It isn’t as if it’s in the next field. It is at least forty miles away.’ He shook his head and pulled a tuft of the herb-filled grass from the earth, then threw it for the wind to blow and do with it what it would. He watched it float away, just like his dreams.
‘Leave it with me. You will go to Appleby Fair. It’s important to you.’ Rosie pushed herself up from the warm, fragrant land and twirled round in the breeze as she looked down upon her crestfallen companion. ‘Come on, let’s walk over to Beggar’s Stile and then get home for supper; the day is too good to waste.’ She smiled as Ethan pushed himself up and joined her.
‘Don’t promise something you can’t fulfil, and stop teasing me, Rosie Atkinson. Else you are no better than your cousin Jane.’ Ethan grabbed her hand, stopping her from dancing in the warm summer sun.
‘I never promise something I can’t fulfil, and don’t insult me by likening me to my cousin. She thinks only of herself and plays with your heart. That is why, if truth were told, you will have been banished to us, at Crummock. We can’t have our precious Jane mixing with the lower classes, now can we? Stop that sullen look and catch me if you can. And stop feeling sorry for yourself – we will go to your Appleby Fair.’ Rosie pulled away from Ethan and started to run over the short dry grass of the fell land. ‘And we will go together.’
‘Rosie, we are all waiting for you.’ Harriet yelled up the stairs, losing her patience with her teenage daughter.
Rosie appeared slowly at the top of the stairs and looked sheepishly at her mother. ‘I don’t feel well, Mother, I think I ate too many gooseberries when I was picking them for pies yesterday.’ She pulled a face and hoped that the white talcum powder she had covered her face with was convincing enough, from a distance, to back up her story.
‘Well, I’m not going without you. I’ll only worry the whole time I’m there. Besides, I really don’t want to go anyway, as your Aunt Isabelle will only gloat about her new abode.’ Harriet reached up and undid the ribbon of her hat and was about to take it off, when Danny stopped her.
‘It’s only a belly ache, Harriet. Rosie is sixteen, not six, and she’s got a tongue in her head. If she gets worse, she can always send for you. Besides, Ethan will be visiting his parents later today, and he can bring word to Windfell if Rosie worsens.’ Danny let his hand drop from hers, as Harriet stopped untying the ribbons for a moment. ‘She’s not a baby, my dear, and don’t make her the excuse for not visiting Windfell. It’s not every day we get invited for our lunch, so let’s make the most of it.’
Harriet sighed and told Rosie, ‘Go on, get yourself to bed. As your father says, let Ethan know if you get any worse. It’s lucky he said that he’d polish the harnesses and saddles this morning, as otherwise he’d be long gone.’ She looked up the stairs and watched as her daughter made good her escape from her gaze.
‘She will be fine, my love. Now come, my father and the children are waiting in the carriage and it’s a beautiful day, so we can dawdle and enjoy the scenery.’ Danny put his arm around his wife and guided her to the kitchen doorway. He was determined that Harriet and Isabelle would talk to one another over lunch, and he knew his sister must feel the same way or she would not have invited them – despite Harriet assuming they were invited just to hear Isabelle gloating.
Harriet looked back. ‘I just hope that Rosie will be alright; she never says she’s ill, as a rule.’
‘She will be fine. As she says, she’s been greedy eating those green gooseberries she was top-and-tailing yesterday, that’s all.’ Danny helped his wife up into the carriage. For once, she had listened to sense and had agreed that Rosie was old enough to look after herself. Perhaps her feelings of inadequacy in motherhood were finally ebbing. He certainly hoped so.
Rosie and Ethan watched out of Crummock’s kitchen window as the family’s carriage disappeared over the hill, down the rough track towards Austwick.
‘When they are past the thorn bushes on the hilltop, we can outride them and take the shortcut down by the wash-dubs, through Wharfe and Helwith Bridge. We will just catch the ten-thirty train at Settle.’ Rosie wiped her falsely ashen face with a tea towel and urged Ethan out of the house.
‘You are sure you want to do this? Your parents will be so angry with both of us, if they ever find out.’ Ethan hesitated. Ever since Rosie had suggested that she pay for the train fair to Appleby he had worried, but at the same time he couldn’t help but feel a bit excited at the prospect of his first ride on a train, and a visit to Appleby Fair with a girl on his arm.
‘Of course I want to do this. I wouldn’t be spending my savings on train tickets if I didn’t. Besides, my parents are not going to find out. I heard my father say they were to dawdle and, once they are at Windfell, they won’t return until suppertime.’ Rosie watched as Ethan mounted the horse that he’d saddled for them both, and which waited outside the back door of Crummock.
Ethan held his hand out for Rosi
e to join him and sat forward in the saddle to make room for her. ‘I know travelling this way isn’t very ladylike, but neither of us is heavy and the horse will cope with two of us on it. Using one horse saves money at the Lion’s livery stable, and they won’t suspect anything if I just take one horse to be stabled.’ He hauled on Rosie’s hand as she pulled up her skirts and sat down tightly behind him. She wrapped her arms around him. Ethan smiled, enjoying the feel of having her body so close to his. ‘Right, hold tight, if we are to catch the train, we’ve not a minute to waste. You are sure you are alright?’
‘I’m fine, Ethan. Don’t worry about ladylike manners – you forget that I’m not as precious as my cousin. Now go, just in case my parents take the same road as us and not the road via Settle, as I heard my mother request.’
Ethan flicked the reins of the horse and dug his heels in to urge the animal forward. Together they trotted briskly out of the farmyard and down the bridlepath to Wharfe. Rosie sat close to Ethan and felt the sun on her face as she hugged him tightly. She looked at his dark hair as it shone like jet in the morning’s sun and breathed in the smell of him. It was a comforting scent of warm hay, with a hint of the carbolic soap that he had obviously washed in that morning. She wasn’t worried that he’d seen her ankles and most of her left leg as she mounted the horse. Her mother would be mortified, but how was she to know?
The horse walked carefully across the stream next to the clapper bridge at the wash-dubs and then carried on trotting down the bridlepath to Wharfe. The limestone walls on either side of them made them nearly invisible on the centuries-old path, until they came to the small hamlet of Wharfe. Luckily it was quiet, with most of the inhabitants at church, praying for the Lord to keep their souls. Once out on the road to Helwith Bridge, Rosie thought she was riding with the devil himself, as Ethan urged his horse into a gallop. She held him even tighter and could feel her long blonde hair whipping her face as they passed the limestone boulders and farms spread along either side of the road. The horse galloped faster and faster, making her cling on for her life as they raced down the road. On reaching the entrance to Windfell, both of them looked up the driveway, hoping that nobody would notice the fleeing pair as they galloped the two miles into Settle. Ethan felt guilty at not seeing his parents on the Sabbath, and Rosie felt guilty at deceiving her parents. Still, it was worth it, just to be near the lad she had feelings for. And the day had only just begun.
Once at the outskirts of Settle, Rosie dismounted, out of view of the prim eyes of the ladies of the district, and walked through the town. She waited on the corner of New Street, and watched as Ethan took the horse into the livery stable of the Golden Lion. She looked across at the clock in the post office’s window. It showed twenty past ten; ten minutes to go before the train left for Appleby and then carried on to Carlisle. She felt her stomach churn as she saw Ethan running out of the Golden Lion and, at the same time, her parents’ carriage passing the town hall a hundred yards behind him. Hiding around the corner of New Street, she waited for Ethan to join her and hoped that he had not been recognized.
‘Bloody hell, that was a close one! Your father’s just stabling his horse and carriage while the rest of your family has a look around Settle. I was so close I heard him instruct the stable lad as he drew into the yard,’ Ethan panted.
‘Come on, we’ve no time to waste – the train will be pulling into the station, if it’s not already there. I can see steam rising. The engine will be filling up with water, before going down the line.’ Rosie grabbed Ethan’s hand and ran the two hundred yards to the station, then gasped as they saw the train waiting on the far platform. ‘We need tickets!’ They pushed past people dressed in their Sunday best, and opened the crimson-coloured doors of the ticket office to purchase their tickets.
‘Two tickets for Appleby, please.’ Rosie caught her breath as she looked across at the ticket officer, with his LMS hat upon his head.
‘Return, first-, second- or third-class?’ the bespectacled man asked.
‘Return and second-class, please.’ Rosie wished that he’d hurry up.
‘Two-and-six, please, next train is at two.’ He waited as Rosie counted out her money, before passing the tickets under his grilled window.
‘We’re not waiting for the two o’clock train – we aim to catch this one.’ Ethan pulled on Rosie’s arm as they both turned on their heels and dashed out through the crowds, who were wishing family and loved ones farewell from the safety of the platform. They flew up and over the metal bridge traversing the railway line, both of them gasping for breath as they reached the other platform, breathing in the smoke and fumes of the waiting train.
‘All aboard!’ The stationmaster started closing the carriage doors as the engine built up steam, ready to leave the platform.
Ethan pushed Rosie into the second-class carriage, with its door still ajar. They were just in time, as the door slammed shut behind them and the stationmaster blew his whistle for the train to depart. Both collapsed giggling into their seats, while the other passengers shook their heads in disbelief at such bad behaviour from the young.
‘We made it! We are on our way to Appleby.’ Ethan’s eyes were filled with anticipation as they looked out of the open window as the train pulled away from the station.
‘Yes, we’ve done it.’ Rosie smiled and then sighed, looking at the solitary penny she had left in her posy bag, as they left Settle and the station behind. ‘I should have said third-class, then I would have had more money to spend at the fair. But we were in such a rush.’
‘We’ll make our own amusement, Rosie. Besides, I’ve sixpence, so we’ll not go hungry, and at least you had the sense to get return tickets, so we can get home.’ Ethan was excited. Unlike Rosie, he had never ridden on a train before and was watching the houses and scenery fly by. ‘Look, there goes Windfell.’
Both craned their necks out of the carriage’s window and took in a fleeting glimpse of Windfell Manor. A further pang of guilt clouded their faces as they thought of the lies they had told, to enable their day together.
‘We will be back before them, won’t we?’ Rosie looked across for reassurance from Ethan.
‘Yes, didn’t you say we can have a few hours at Appleby and will be back in Settle for five o’clock? We won’t be that long at the fair.’ He looked across at a worried Rosie.
‘I guess we will be fine. We won’t be missed, I’m sure.’ She sat down and looked out at the scenery rushing past her. ‘Please don’t let us be late,’ she whispered to herself. Her parents would never forgive her. As for Ethan, he’d never work for anyone ever again.
8
Jane picked up the morning newspaper and read the headlines with horror.
‘Have you seen this, Mother, and you, Father? The poor woman, how could the King’s horse run her over like that?’
‘I don’t think the jockey did it deliberately, my dear. The stupid woman ran directly in front of him, and he couldn’t stop.’ Isabelle looked across at James for support.
‘Poor Emily Davison. She was only trying to make a point by pinning a banner for “Votes for Women” on the horse. Perhaps the King and Parliament will listen to us women, after a death at the Epsom Derby.’ Jane lifted her hand up to the violet, green and white pendant that she wore as a sign of solidarity with the fight for the newly named Suffragette movement and its causes. ‘Surely they’ve got to, now that women are going on hunger strike and nearly dying. They must realize how strongly the modern-day woman feels about having equal rights to men.’ She sat staring defiantly at her father, knowing that he thought her ideals were rubbish.
‘I do wish you would stop your fascination with these troublemakers, Jane. This is a man’s world, and women should know their place.’ James looked at his young daughter, who had a mind of her own, and sighed.
‘Where’s that, then? Tied to the kitchen sink, doing sewing and needlework and looking pretty on a man’s arm? Grandmama never did any of that, nor did you, Mama. Bot
h of you were your own women – and you still are. Yet we don’t get a say in the running of the country. Surely that’s not fair?’ She folded the newspaper and looked at her father, who was about to explode.
‘Enough, Jane, we have visitors about to join us. In fact I can hear their carriage coming up the drive this minute. Now no more talk of suffragettes, women’s rights or anything else that crosses your mind. And try to be right with Rosie. I know you are not alike, but you can at least show her a little respect. After all, she is your cousin.’ Isabelle rose from her chair and made her way to the hallway, giving James a dark look as she went, in the hope that he would say something along the same lines to Jane while she went to meet their guests.
‘Your mother’s right: you know nothing about suchlike. You should just concentrate on your role in the firm. That’s enough for you to think about at present,’ James said gruffly.
‘Grandmama would understand. She always knew what was right.’ Jane crossed her arms in a sulk.
‘Well, she isn’t here. So just for once, smile and be pleasant.’ James rose to his feet and went to join Isabelle, who was busy making their guests welcome, leaving Jane to continue feeling upset about the death of Emily Davison.
‘Harriet, how lovely that you can be with us today. And just look at young Ben and Georgina – how quickly they grow!’ Isabelle welcomed Danny and his family to Windfell with open arms. She was genuinely glad that Harriet had accepted her invitation to lunch. ‘No Rosie? Jane will be disappointed. She was hoping that Rosie would be with you.’
‘I’m afraid Rosie was feeling a little unwell this morning, so she could not join us.’ Harriet smiled at Isabelle, feeling that her welcome was slightly over the top.
