by Wendy Gill
Jackson Is Missing
Wendy Gill
Austin Macauley Publishers
Jackson Is Missing
About the Author
About the Cover
Dedication
Copyright Information ©
Acknowledgement
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter NinePart Two
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter TwelvePart Three
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
About the Author
Wendy was born in Barnsley, South Yorkshire, England. She is married and has two grown-up children. Wendy left school at the age of 15 and had a very eclectic career. She began her working career in an office and ended her working career in an office at the age of 61. She didn’t start writing until she had left work and found it a very pleasant pastime.
About the Cover
A regency romance in three parts. Part One finds Ella, virtually penniless and homeless. A chance meeting with the postman sends her off in search of a family she did not know she had. She makes new friends and finds herself hiding an unknown gentleman who has two bullets lodged in him.
Part Two rekindles an old romance and tells of a mother’s cruelty to her son, which has disastrous consequences. Old gossip rears its ugly head.
Part Three brings the characters from Part One and Part Two together and Ella finally finds herself a husband
Dedication
Dedicated to my friend and neighbour
Joan Cross (03/02/1953 – 07/09/2018).
Her support and encouragement helped me on the way to having my third book published. Thank you, Joan.
Copyright Information ©
Wendy Gill (2019)
The right of Wendy Gill to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528961585 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2019)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Acknowledgement
Many thanks to my photographer Helen Booth at Masque Photography, and to her husband, Paul Booth, who is a Fireman at Barnsley Fire Station. Thanks for being there in case of emergency, Paul.
Chapter One
Ella descended the wide curving staircase. Her feet making no sound on the carpeted stairs, pausing for just a second to wipe the palms of her hands down the front of her dark grey, high-necked woollen dress.
Making sure her hair was tightly pulled back into a bun in the nape of her neck, she turned slightly to her right, walking across the marble-floored hallway. Raising her hand, she tapped gently on the drawing room door. Ella waited for permission to enter.
This was granted by a stern “ENTER”. Ella took hold of the handle and entered the room to face her employer, knowing beforehand what the outcome would be.
Ella, having been in this situation on more than one occasion was not surprised that Lady Stern, her employer, wanted to see her.
The eldest son of the house had made advances to her and having them rejected, he had run straight to Mummy and complained that ‘SHE’ is the one making advances to him.
This was the third governess position Ella had been appointed to, and this was the third complaint of the same nature, all resulting in her dismissal. Seeking employment without a reference was hard enough, but every household seemed to have an eligible son who believed governesses were fair game. Miss Ella Penrod had other ideas.
Ella had soon learnt that to deny the false allegation and try to defend herself not only resulted in her getting dismissed from her position, but also in having her wage deducted as well.
This mummy was no exception. Lady Stern stood in front of the huge fireplace with a large mirror hanging above it, her hands crossed in front of her.
“Miss Ella Penrod, I am deeply disappointed in you. I am appalled by what my son tells me. I would not have expected this lewd behaviour from a woman of your breeding. I will not have you in this house a minute longer. You will pack your bags and leave, immediately. I have nothing more to say to you, go, leave my house and do not return.”
Turning her back on Ella with a swish of lavender taffeta, Lady Stern placed one hand on the mantelpiece, and the other hand she held to her ample bosom, feigning a dramatic air.
Knowing argument was futile, Ella turned silently and left the room. Her carpetbag, already packed with her meagre possessions, was waiting for her on the bed.
The first thing Ella had packed was the pair of riding breeches that once belonged to her father. He had given Ella the breeches many years ago and she had worn them when they went on long horse rides together. The breeches were her most treasured possession.
Next, she had placed her hand pistol on top of the breeches and covered them with the few clothes she still possessed. The riding breeches and pistol were the only things she had left to remind her of her father. Everything else had been sold to pay off his massive debts. They reminded Ella of happier times.
The breeches had been far too big for her, of course, but she held them up by a belt and turned the top of the breeches over the belt. Ella would turn up the breeches at the bottom to get the correct length. She had thought of cutting off the bottoms, but she decided against that, she wanted to keep them as they were given to her.
Ella took up her cape and bonnet in one hand and the carpetbag in the other and descended the wide staircase for the last time.
If truth be told, Ella could not wait to leave. From the age of nineteen, after the death of her father Ella had had to work to survive. She had found this very difficult, for in the year 1813, the only respectable occupation for a young lady of her breeding, having fallen on difficult times, was to try to find a suitable family in need of a governess.
With no references, the only positions she had been able to obtain were out in the middle of nowhere. Places where a more experienced governess would not venture. Thus, she found herself on the edge of the Longcash Moors, three miles from the nearest town of Rampton.
Ella knew she had three miles to walk over the moor, but this did not deter her.
The warm summer sun felt good on Ella’s face as she walked down the long drive with her head held high and her shoulders back, but with a heavy heart, not looking forward to searching for her next position.
At least she was thankful that the weather was warm and dry for if it had been raining, the trek over the moor to reach Rampton might not have been so pleasant. Having only a few shillings in her purse, Ella was pondering her next move while she made her way towards the double wrought iron gates and off the Stern property. Her footsteps unconsciously gathering speed.
On nearing the huge gates that heralded the end of her present employment, Ella was alarmed to see James Stern, standing in her path, blocking her way off the property for the last tim
e.
He was a handsome young man of twenty, wealthy, spoilt, arrogant and selfish. His dress sense was that of a man twice his age with his long thin legs encased in fawn, tight fitting trousers, black knee-high boots with a brown leather turnover at the top and black and tan tailcoat.
As soon as Ella saw him, she knew there was trouble ahead. She continued walking and stepped to her left to pass him by, but he stepped to his right still blocking her way. So, Ella stepped to her right, and once again the young man stepped to his left, resulting in her inability to proceed through the gates and off the property.
"You think you are little Miss Goody, Goody, don’t you? Well, I have got the better of you after all. Look where your snootiness has got you now. It is a long way into Rampton, especially having to carry that heavy carpetbag as well.
“If you were to give me a kiss from those pretty little lips of yours before you go, I might think about giving you your last month’s wage that m y mother gave me to give to you. Well, little Miss Goody, Goody, what about it, a kiss in exchange for your wage?” James Stern asked her.
Ella’s reply to that was to lift her right knee up with as much force as she could and place it in her persecutor’s groin, affording her much pleasure to see the look of disbelief on his young face.
He slowly placed his hands between his legs and bent forward, then dropped down to the ground onto his knees and finally onto his side where he lay moaning in agony.
Without saying a word, Ella stepped to the side and carried on walking. Her spirits much improved but wishing she had been given the month’s wage James had said he had, it would have helped significantly to ease her lack of cash.
She would not afford James Stern the pleasure of knowing how short of money she was.
Having gone no more than fifty yards, she came upon the postman on his sturdy black horse, heading for the Stern’s Mansion house.
“Good morning, Miss Penrod. Are you leaving the Mansion?” the postman asked, his eyes taking in her carpetbag.
“I am afraid so Ben, another spoilt brat getting me dismissed,” Ella replied. “You don’t know of anybody wanting a governess by any chance, do you?”
“Not that I have heard of, but see here, I had better give you another of your letters before you go, and you had better let the sender know you will not be at this address in future. If you are sent any more letters to this address, I will not know where to forward them on to.”
“What do you mean Ben, another one of my letters? This will be the first one I have had.”
“That cannot be right, Miss. I have delivered two other letters here, both addressed to you. Are you saying you have not received them? This is a serious matter, Miss. I delivered the other two letters here. You should have received them by now.”
He dismounted his horse and searched through his bag until he came across a white envelope addressed to Miss E. Penrod and handed it to her.
He watched her turn it over in her hands, then reading the address on the front to make sure it was for her.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” the postman asked.
“I have no idea who it can be from? The postmark is Marchum, and I do not know anybody from Marchum.”
She opened the letter with trembling fingers, taking out a single sheet of folded paper. Unfolding the letter, she was amazed to find a five-pound note enclosed.
Taking the large white five-pound note away from the written word, Ella read:
"Grundy, Grundy and Grundy Solicitors,
West Street, Marchum."
She looked up at Ben and told him, “It is from a solicitor.”
"Dear Miss Penrod
I write for the last time requesting you to get in touch with the above solicitors.
We have important matters to discuss with you. Once again, we enclose a five-pound note for your travel expenses.
Yours faithfully
C. Grundy, Esquire."
“Would you believe it Ben? This C. Grundy, infers not only has he sent me letters before, but there had been money enclosed in them too. Here you read it.” Ella passed the letter to Ben.
“I can confirm that I have delivered two other letters here which were addressed to you in the past few weeks. Are you sure you have not received them?”
“Of course, I am. I have not been given any letters since I have been working here.”
"What you need to do is go back to the mansion and get the other two letters and the money. I’ll bet you Lady Stern kept both letters and money from you because she doesn’t want you to leave.
“Now her son has made his accusation against you, she has changed her mind. Once you are in receipt of the other two letters, I suggest you set off for Marchum to see this solicitor. If you get the other money that is rightfully yours, there should be enough money in your pocket to get you to Marchum, and some to spare,” Ben advised her.
He handed the letter back to Ella and she folded it up and placed it back in the envelope.
“Yes, the letter does infer there was money enclosed in the previous letters,” confirmed Ben.
"Come on, I’ll give you a lift on the back of old Sally. I shall wait for you to come out to make sure you get your letters. If Lady Stern denies having had them, you can tell her there will be trouble in store for her because she is guilty of stealing from you.
“Tell her, I am waiting outside for you and if she does not return the letters and money, I will report her to the Royal Mail. I don’t think you will have much trouble with her once she knows that you know she has withheld your post and stolen your money. I shall be outside ready to take you into Rampton where you can catch the mail stagecoach to Marchum.”
Ella had never heard of Marchum so why someone from there should be writing letters to her and sending her money was a puzzle and she informed Ben of this.
"I had an uncle that lived in Marchum but unfortunately he died many years ago. My mother used to visit him and take me with her. We would catch the mail stagecoach in Rampton at 9 o’clock in the morning and we reached Marchum before nightfall.
"Marchum is located on the edge of the England and Scotland border just on the edge in Scotland, two miles further south and it would be in England. It is a very pleasant little town, I think you will like it.
“If we are to get you to Marchum before the stagecoach leaves, we had better get a move on.”
Ella found herself sitting on the back of the old horse behind the postman with her carpetbag clutched on her lap and her other arm round Ben’s waist.
There had been no sign of James Stern as they made their way back up the long drive, back towards the Stern property so Ella could face her ex-employer.
Lady Stern, of course, had denied any knowledge of any letters until Ella told her the postman was waiting outside for her and it was him that had informed her of the other letters.
After a moment’s hesitation, Lady Stern crossed the room and opened her writing desk and produced the two letters, both opened.
Lady Stern searched in her purse and then thrust both letters and two five-pound notes at Ella.
Ella took the money and letters. Lady Stern did not utter another word but turned and marched out of the room leaving Ella to find her own way out of the house.
Ben asked her if she wanted him to report the theft of the letters, but she told him no, she had her letters and the money, so she wanted no more to do with Lady Stern.
She remembered little of the journey from the Sterns’ mansion on the back of the postman’s horse to Rampton, where she thanked Ben, bought her ticket to Marchum and boarded the stagecoach.
Ella’s mind was in turmoil. The last thing she could have dreamed of this morning while she was packing her carpetbag was having fifteen extra pounds in her purse. She felt rich indeed. But confusion still reigned as she sat in the stagecoach heading even further north, for the town of Marchum.
Ella sat and watched the world go by out of the stagecoach window and wondered what was in st
ore for her when she reached Marchum.
She now had enough money to find some cheap lodgings for a few days until she found out what the letters were all about. As far as she knew, she had no family left alive. She was an only child and so were her mother and father. There had never been any talk about any aunts or uncles except for a Lady Whiteman, who was an aunt of her father’s.
Lady Whiteman had never married, and she had frightened the living day lights out of Ella when she was a child. Not that there had ever been much contact between Lady Whiteman and her father, and that lady was now deceased. As far as Ella knew, there was no other relation she could have thrown herself upon in her hour of need. The letters remained a mystery.
Chapter Two
Ella stepped down from the stagecoach in Marchum around 7 o’clock in the evening with the warm evening sun still pleasantly shining in the clear blue sky.
Taking up her carpetbag once again, she went in search of somewhere to sleep for the night.
She looked in windows as she passed, hoping to see a sign advertising a room to let. She did not see one. She could find no house offering her a bed for the night.
Ella had passed two hostelries, but she could not bring herself to enter either of them. The smell and the noise deterred her.
It had been a very long and emotional day, but her spirits were high. The mail stagecoach had stopped twice to change the horses and while this was being attended to, the passengers had been happy to partake of two very satisfying meals.
She had had no hesitation on both occasions to purchase a substantial meal. A luxury she had not anticipated when waking up that morning.
Ella was beginning to tire by this time and the carpetbag was getting heavier and heavier when she suddenly came across West Street.
Putting her carpetbag down, she took one of her letters out of her receptacle to check the address. The letter confirmed that West Street was where the solicitor’s office was located.