by Valerie Wood
They continued on into the town until they came to the rented house in Merchants’ Row. Mrs Marshall’s manservant, Johnson, helped their coachman to unload the luggage and lift it into the hall and then climbed wearily back into the carriage to make the return journey to Hull. ‘See you in a couple of days, ladies.’ He winked at Emily. ‘Behave yourselves now, don’t get into any mischief!’
‘Fat chance,’ Ginny muttered as she surveyed the pile of boxes waiting to be unpacked. ‘Come on, Lizzie,’ she said to the other maid, ‘let’s get moving and maybe we can have a stroll after supper. Would you like to come?’ she called as Emily and Dolly went up the stairs with a heap of gowns over their arms.
Emily glanced at Dolly. ‘Will it be all right?’ she asked. ‘Are we allowed?’
‘Nobody here to stop us,’ Dolly grinned. ‘There’s no Mrs Anderson to say what we can or can’t do. Come on, let’s look sharp and get this lot unpacked. We can do ’ironing in ’morning.’
It was still light as the four of them strolled along the foreshore towards the pier and the lighthouse, and Emily breathed in the salty air and gazed into the dark water at the cobles and fishing vessels which were moored there, then lifted her head to watch a coble coming in from the open sea with its lugsail rippling in the evening breeze.
‘Watch out for t’nets, ladies, don’t catch them pretty feet and fall.’ A group of pipe-smoking fishermen was sitting amongst a pile of lobster pots. Some of them were mending nets and others were gutting fish. It was a young man who had spoken and the other men laughed. ‘Watch out for this young lover more like,’ an older man called and got up from his seat on an upturned wooden bucket and raised his salt-stained hat. ‘Tha’d be better off with an older man, ladies. Somebody with experience.’
‘Aye,’ Ginny bantered back. ‘And wi’ a lot more besides, I wouldn’t wonder. Good evening to you, Jack.’
‘And to you, Ginny. It’s good to see thee again. Tha’s brought some new friends, I see.’
‘Mrs Marshall and Mrs Purnell are sharing a house this summer so we’re all together,’ Ginny explained.
‘So tha’ll be needing some extra fish?’ He lifted a pair of silver mackerel, the scales glinting in the lamplight. ‘Tek these for thy supper and I’ll bring a parcel round first thing tomorrow.’
‘And who’s this with an angel’s face?’ The young man who had spoken first came and stood by Emily. ‘Won’t you introduce us, Ginny?’
‘This is Emily,’ Ginny said. ‘And she’s onny for looking at, not for touching. She’s onny a bairn so keep thy hands off, young Ben.’
He smiled and doffed his hat, giving a small bow. ‘Charmed to meet thee, Emily.’ He took her hand in his. ‘I shall wait for thee, Emily. For ever if need be.’
He was tall and fair, and his smile flashed in his face, brown from the salt air, and Emily felt flattered that such a handsome man had singled her out.
‘Don’t tek any notice of what they say, Emily,’ Ginny advised as they retraced their steps. ‘It’s all said in fun and they’re all married men, except for young Ben, and he’s all but.’
‘Oh!’ Emily was disappointed. It would have been nice to go back to her bed and dream, not of an unattainable Mr Linton, as she had been doing for many nights, but of a young man of her own class who appeared to be smitten with her. It seemed that it was only a joke after all.
But it was young Ben Thompson who called most days with freshly caught fish, and he would hover at the kitchen door and give Emily a wave if he saw her; but Mrs Marshall’s kitchen maid, who usually answered his knock, was of a sullen nature and didn’t respond to his banter, nor would she pass on messages of good wishes to Emily as he requested. Sometimes Emily saw him if she went on an errand into the town and she deliberately walked along the harbourside in the hope of seeing him and having a few words.
She was strolling along one day after collecting a parcel for Mrs Purnell, then stopped to lean on a railing and listen as she heard the sound of the band striking up across on the pier, when Ben rushed towards her, his face flushed and his words breathless. ‘Emily,’ he gasped, ‘other fellows challenged me, ’cos they knew I was scared and hardly dare tell thee.’
‘What?’ she laughed.
‘Just that – tha’s so beautiful! I’ve never seen anybody as beautiful as thee.’
She blushed and looked away. ‘You’re just fooling,’ she said, remembering what Ginny had said.
‘No. No, I’m not,’ he pleaded earnestly. ‘And I know tha’s young, but next year, mebbe – mebbe tha’d come out wi’ me?’
‘You’ve got a lady friend, haven’t you?’
He bent his head. ‘Aye, I have – but, but I’d give her up if I thought –!’
She drew herself up and looked him in the eye. ‘Don’t do anything you’ll be sorry for, Ben. I might not come back next year.’
He grasped her hands. ‘I can’t sleep for thinking about thee, Emily. I’ll wait, I promise.’
She released her hands and left him and walked with a spring in her step and a smile on her lips at the notion that someone’s sleep was disturbed by thoughts of her. Several men touched their hats as she passed by and young gentlemen from the Grammar School and menservants gave her a smile and she responded with a nod of acknowledgement.
‘What ’you looking so pleased about?’ Dolly grumbled when she got back to the house. ‘You’d better look sharp with that parcel ’cos mistress is going to a concert and wants ribbons out of it to put on her gown.’
‘Where have you been, Emily? Gossiping, I’ll be bound.’ Mrs Purnell reached for the parcel. ‘Now, I want you to sew this ribbon across the bodice, criss-cross it like so, like the dress we saw in that shop window yesterday, but be quick because the carriage is coming at five.’
She watched as Emily took out the sewing box and selected a matching thread. ‘I want either you or Dolly to come with me; we shall have supper after the concert is over and then play cards, so we shall be late. I don’t mind which of you comes.’ She smiled graciously as if she was giving them a treat. ‘You can choose between yourselves.’
‘Well, I’m not going,’ Dolly decided when Emily told her. ‘I’ve been before and it’s boring. You’ve to hang around for hours while they listen to ’music, and then when they play cards it’s fetch me my wrap, fetch me some coffee, go here, go there. Then you’ve to look out for ’carriage when they want to go home and it’s dark out there at ’Spa, and it’s cold.’ She stared defiantly at Emily. ‘You’ve not been afore. You can go. Besides,’ she gave a pert grin, ‘I’ve got other fish to fry.’
Mrs Marshall wanted Ginny to come too and Emily was pleased about that, not having been to the Gothic Saloon before, and as she and Ginny sat next to the driver as the carriage rumbled over the iron bridge to the Spa building, she felt privileged to be there. She settled Mrs Purnell into her seat and Ginny did the same for Mrs Marshall, they took their wraps and agreed they would come back at the interval, and then returned to the foyer, where they gave the wraps to an assistant in the cloakroom.
‘We can relax for an hour now, Emily. They won’t want us till coffee time. Let’s go and see who’s here and who’s not.’
They went out on to the terrace and milled around with the other servants, who were laughing and chatting as they waited for the interval. The music struck up and one or two couples started to dance. ‘How lovely it all is,’ Emily laughed. ‘And Dolly didn’t want to come!’ The evening was warm, the sun was still shining and far out in the surging waves they could see people bathing from the bathing huts and hear their shouts of laughter. Children were playing on the sands, which were golden in the sunlight, and Emily felt as if she really was on holiday.
Ginny pointed out various people to her. Servants of this person or that. ‘She’s with Mrs Stanley of Beverley,’ or, ‘She’s with Mrs Morley of York,’ or, ‘There’s the Honourable Mrs Owstwick with her two daughters.’ Emily was amazed that Ginny seemed to know everyone who w
as worth knowing.
They leaned on the low wall and looked down at the people walking below. ‘The Brodericks are not coming this year, nor are the Francises; you worked for them, didn’t you, Emily? Mrs Francis and her daughter have gone abroad. Ah!’ said Ginny, ‘and my favourite of all! There’s Commander Linton with Mrs Linton and their two daughters. We don’t often have ’pleasure of seeing him at Scarborough.’ She pointed out a tall, bearded man walking arm in arm with his wife and two daughters. ‘Perhaps he’s retired from the sea. They live up on ’Wolds,’ she added, ‘and – they have the handsomest son that you would die for. But too young for me,’ she said sorrowfully, ‘even if there was the remotest possibility, which there isn’t!’
‘Oh,’ Emily breathed, all thoughts of Ben Thompson flying away. ‘Philip Linton, do you mean? I’ve met him. Do you think he will be here?’
‘Shouldn’t think so for a moment. He’s gone off to sea, or so I heard.’ She raised her head and looked along towards the Cliff Bridge. ‘Though – perhaps I’m mistaken about that. Yes, I am. Look! There he is. The gentleman himself!’
Chapter Eleven
Emily stood mesmerized as she watched Philip Linton striding across the bridge towards them. Then she took a deep breath and prepared herself as she saw that he had noticed her and, with only a slight hesitation in his stride, he turned and came towards her.
‘Emily!’ He gave a slight bow. ‘How very nice to see you again. I – er, I never expected –,’
‘Mrs Purnell made a sudden decision to come to Scarborough.’ She gave a slight curtsy and turned to Ginny, who was standing next to her with a polite though slightly amused expression on her face. ‘This is Ginny, Mrs Marshall’s maid. Mrs Purnell and Mrs Marshall have come together,’ she explained, adding lamely, ‘They’re sharing a house.’
He greeted Ginny politely, who bobbed her knee, then with his eyes still on Emily he indicated vaguely towards the sound of the music. ‘I had arranged to meet my family for the concert, but I seem to have missed them.’
Emily was tongue-tied, she wanted to tell him that Ginny had just pointed them out, but she didn’t want him to think she had been gossiping about his family, so she remained silent with her eyes slightly lowered.
Philip pointed towards where some of the servants on the terrace were merrily dancing. ‘They’re enjoying themselves!’
Emily agreed. ‘It’s lovely music.’
He nodded. ‘It’s from The Magic Flute. Do you know it?’
She shook her head. ‘No, sir. I haven’t heard it before.’
He looked at her and she felt as if her heart was about to stop as he took hold of her hand. ‘I’m not much of a dancer, but shall we join in?’
She was lost for words and looked for advice from Ginny, who merely shrugged and gave a wry smile and turned her eyes to the antics of the dancers, who were laughingly trying to keep in time to the birdlike music of the flute.
‘Please do, no-one will mind,’ he persuaded and led her out to the other dancers. ‘There’s a hidden story behind the music,’ he explained softly. ‘It’s a fairy tale. Of magic, of comedy – but it is also a love story.’
She felt the pressure of his hand on hers and felt weak and giddy with emotion as he guided her round and round, but soon she started to laugh with merriment and as she did, so did he. The music stopped and the dancers broke into spontaneous clapping, but he kept hold of her hand. ‘How lovely you are, Emily,’ he whispered, his eyes on her face, and it seemed to her that they were the only ones there with just the sound of the sea breaking below the Spa wall and the cry of the seagulls above them.
‘Ahem!’ Someone close by was clearing his throat and as they both looked up, Emily thought she would die of humiliation as she recognized Philip’s parents and sisters watching them. His father had an amused laugh in his eyes, but his mother was stony-faced, whilst his sisters gazed in open curiosity at Emily.
‘Father!’ Philip stammered. ‘Mother! I was looking for you. I thought you must have gone inside.’
‘No. We decided that the evening was far too pleasant to be spent indoors.’ Commander Linton gazed at Emily. ‘I don’t think we have had the pleasure of this young lady’s acquaintance.’
‘Erm, no. Father, Mother, may I present Miss Emily –?’
‘Hawkins, sir.’ Emily bobbed her knee deferentially to Commander and Mrs Linton, and then in an afterthought to their daughters also. She was glad that she was wearing her crisp white blouse with her grey skirt, but felt a stray strand of hair creeping from beneath her bonnet. ‘I work for Mrs Purnell, sir, ma’am.’
There was silence for a moment, then suddenly the music struck up again and Commander Linton gave a grin which made him look just like his son, and said genially, ‘How do you do! Delighted to meet you, Miss Hawkins.’
Mrs Linton inclined her head but no smile lit her face as she said, ‘I haven’t met Mrs Purnell. Would she approve of her staff behaving in this way?’
Suddenly Ginny was at Emily’s side. She gave a neat curtsy to Commander and Mrs Linton. ‘Good evening, sir, good evening, ma’am. How nice to see you again at Scarborough.’
Mrs Linton’s face softened. ‘Ginny! So you are here too?’
‘Yes, ma’am. Mrs Marshall and Mrs Purnell are sharing a house this year. They’re at ’concert and said we could enjoy ’music while they were inside! This is Emily’s first time at Scarborough,’ she explained and gave an encouraging nod at a flushed and nervous Emily.
‘I see!’ Mrs Linton looked Emily over and inclined her head, then glanced at Philip. ‘Well, shall we get along?’
They all moved away, Philip lingering last of all and turning for one last backward glance as the music faded and the maids and the men entered the door to do their superiors’ bidding.
Emily wept as she climbed into bed that night. How humiliating to be caught in such a manner, and what would Mr Linton’s parents say to him about dancing with a servant girl in public? And yet as she wept, there was a small spring of joy which would keep bubbling up no matter how hard she pushed it down. She thought she could still feel the sensation of his hand on hers, and mused on the brief moment that his hand had lightly touched her waist as they danced. Oh, how wonderful he is, she romanticized in a flight of fancy. And he said I was lovely! Perhaps I am, she thought dreamily. I feel as if I might be. She smiled in the darkness and pretended to be asleep as Dolly climbed into bed beside her. I don’t want to talk, not tonight. Tonight I only want to dream.
‘What on earth were you thinking of, Philip? What if the girl’s employer had seen her!’ Mrs Linton made no bones over her disapproval. ‘She could have been dismissed on the spot.’
‘Yes, I didn’t think – it was just the music and everything,’ he said unconvincingly. And not only the music, he thought. When I saw her there I just wanted to dance with her.
‘Do you know her?’ His mother continued her questioning. ‘Have you met her before?’
‘Yes. I’d called to see Hugo Purnell and she answered the door.’ He omitted to mention the loan that he’d made to Hugo or the subsequent meeting with Emily at his lodgings.
‘And you asked her to dance with you on the strength of one meeting!’ His mother was aghast.
‘Oh, come now, Constance. Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill.’ His father peered from over the top of his newspaper. ‘She’s an extremely pretty girl. If I’d been twenty, I would have asked her to dance too.’
Mrs Linton looked disapprovingly down her nose at her husband, but a flicker of amusement twitched her lips, so Philip hastily seized the opportunity to say, ‘I was just being impetuous, Mama, and had she been of a different class and not a servant you would have been planning a wedding!’
‘Had she been of a different class, you would not have had the temerity to do it!’ she said scornfully. ‘Now be off with you.’
He planted a kiss on her cheek and departed, leaving his parents to finish their after-supper brandy alone. A
ritual they had always followed for as long as he could remember.
‘I could be worried about that incident.’ Constance Linton was thoughtful as she sipped her brandy, a spirit her husband had introduced her to when first they were married. ‘There was just something about them!’
Her husband shook his head. ‘I told you, she’s just a pretty girl, a damn fine looker, I must say. Besides he’ll be meeting plenty of other young women whilst he’s away, any amount I should say.’
‘I do not wish to know,’ his wife replied. ‘No. I mean it,’ she rebuked him as he gave a jovial laugh. ‘I do not wish to know what you common sailors get up to when you are away from home!’
‘Well, not much chance of me getting up to anything any more, now that I’m back in harbour.’ He sat and pondered, his newspaper forgotten. ‘But I’m really pleased that Philip is doing so well. Wouldn’t Mother be delighted that he is following in the family footsteps?’
She smiled. ‘Yes, I’m sure she would have been. She would have been very proud. As proud of Philip as she was of you.’ She looked at him and then raised her finger. ‘I know what you’re going to say! And don’t say it! You’ve come a long way from your mother’s beginnings if what she said was true.’ She gave a laugh. ‘They were so eccentric those two, your father and mother, I don’t believe a word of anything they said!’
‘You would never have married me, would you,’ Commander Tobias Linton stretched his legs in front of the fire and grinned, ‘if Mother really had been a gutter snipe as she said, and not a Dutch princess or whatever else it was they said about her, and if Father really had been a smuggler before he was a naval captain?’
She leaned back in her chair. ‘Of course I wouldn’t, Commander! When I was the most sought-after young woman in Yorkshire? Would I have risked my reputation to marry a man with such dire connections?’
He looked across at her and smiled. If he was sure of anything in this life it was of his wife’s love, it had sustained him over many dangers and hardships. But he understood his wife’s anxieties for their children, especially Philip, once he had left to join his ship. There were many dangers for a young officer and not just at sea. There were women in wait too, undesirable women who could fell a man instantly if his wife only knew, not that he would dream of telling her. An innocent dance with a young servant girl was the last thing she should worry about.