by Valerie Wood
Chapter Twelve
They stayed in Scarborough until the beginning of October and although Mrs Purnell was reluctant to leave, Mrs Marshall, who had leased the house, was eager to return to Hull as the social season there would be about to begin.
Emily too was reluctant to return to the cramped streets of Hull. She had so enjoyed the sea air and the warm weather, which had not induced the flies and smells in the way it did in the town. She would miss too the sound of the sea as it washed to the shore, and in particular the last two weeks when the wind had changed and become more blustery, driving the waves with great force over the harbour wall, making the small ships in the harbour dip and plunge like corks and the pedestrians on the foreshore scuttle out of the way to avoid a soaking. She found it exhilarating and exciting and whenever she could she volunteered to run errands so that she might brave the elements.
‘I think you’re mad,’ Dolly proclaimed one day when Emily had been on an errand in the rain and came back to the house, wet and breathless but her face glowing with health. ‘Won’t catch me going out in weather like this.’
Mrs Anderson remarked on her complexion on their return to Hull. ‘You look well, Emily,’ she said. ‘Better than us here. Some of us have had a bad time. I haven’t told mistress yet, but we’ve lost Lily, the new kitchen maid, to cholera. We’ve had to fumigate her room and burn all her clothes.’
Emily and Dolly were both shocked. The girl had been young and not very healthy and seemingly had gone down with the disease rapidly, and they both agreed that they were glad they had been away. Mrs Purnell was both distressed and angry and immediately wrote a letter to the governors of the workhouse in Parliament Street, blaming them for the loss of her servant and the inconvenience of her having to find another.
‘My son will be home in December,’ she told Mrs Anderson in Emily’s presence. ‘I have had a letter from him, so make sure his room is well aired and a good fire burning when he does come. He’ll feel the cold after Italy.’
Mrs Anderson’s face tightened. ‘Yes, ma’am. There has been a small fire lit every day while you were away in case he returned.’
‘He has some good news for me, he says,’ Mrs Purnell chatted in the casual way she sometimes did to her servants, when there was no-one else around to confide in. ‘I can’t think what it can be. Unless,’ she became quite girlish and her false curls bobbed beneath her lace cap, ‘unless he has met someone whilst abroad. What do you think, Mrs Anderson, you know him well after all these years? Do you think he might have found someone marriageable? Oh –!’ Anxiety creased her face. ‘I just pray it won’t be someone foreign.’
Emily, sewing buttons on to a pair of Mrs Purnell’s gloves, glanced up at Mrs Anderson and thought that though her expression appeared impassive, she seemed to be in some kind of emotional turmoil.
‘I’m quite sure that Mr Hugo will choose someone suitable when the time is right, ma’am,’ she said tightly. ‘He always seems to know how to go about things.’
‘You’re right, of course. Well, we’ll arrange a few parties and some young people to come over as soon as he gets back. What fun we will have, I’ve missed him so. The house is far too quiet without him.’
Emily was quite looking forward to seeing Mr Hugo and the thought of having young people in the house, with perhaps music and dancing, filled her with expectation. Not that she would be able to participate, of course, but the atmosphere in the house would, she was sure, be much lighter and brighter. She also mused on the idea that Mr Linton might appear at one of the functions, as after she had danced with him on the terrace of the Spa, to her great disappointment, she hadn’t seen him again and Ginny had told her that she had heard he had been recalled to join his ship.
It was half-way through December when Mr Hugo finally arrived home, his arrival heralded by a loud banging on the door and a shrill ringing of the doorbell. Emily opened the door to find him standing on the doorstep with a manservant and an array of bags and boxes and a smart-looking curricle drawn by two black horses out in the street.
‘Hello! And who are you?’ He was tall and dark with a long sharp nose and a thin mouth. Not really as handsome as I’d expected, Emily thought. Though he’s very merry.
‘I’m Emily, sir.’ She bobbed her knee.
‘Emily! That’s a very plain name for such a pretty girl.’ He surveyed her admiringly. ‘I must say my mother knows how to pick the beauties. Turn around, Emily. Let’s have a look at you.’
She cast a scared glance at Mrs Anderson, who had followed her into the hallway after hearing the commotion. Mrs Anderson gave her a brief nod to comply, so slowly she turned for his inspection. ‘Well, you’ll do! Won’t she, Mrs Anderson? I’ve seen some handsome women whilst I’ve been away but there’s no-one to touch the comeliness of a fair English rose.’ He pinched Emily’s cheek. ‘Believe me, Emily, I know.’
She didn’t know why she felt apprehensive at his attention, for after Ginny’s warning not to take men’s admiration too seriously, she had simply smiled and accepted compliments, and there had been many whilst at Scarborough. She had thought no more about them, apart from Mr Linton’s whispered words, and she really did want to believe him. But Mr Hugo made her feel very uneasy and she didn’t know whether it was the accidental touch of his hand on her rear as she went upstairs with his bags, or Mrs Anderson’s hoarse whisper to keep her bedroom door locked.
* * *
‘I’m waiting Hugo, to hear the news you have to tell me.’ Mrs Purnell viewed her son affectionately. ‘You said in your letter there was something.’ He had been home for three days and still he had not divulged his secret. ‘Have you – have you met someone whilst you’ve been away?’
‘I might have.’ He poured himself a brandy and a sherry for his mother. ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Mother? But I’m not sure whether to tell you now or at the party on Saturday.’
‘Oh, but you must tell me now,’ she gurgled. ‘I must be the first to know.’
He laughed. ‘You and her father!’
She looked shocked. ‘You mean you haven’t asked him yet? What are you thinking of? He might not agree.’
‘Oh, he’ll agree, there’s no doubt about that.’ He looked smug. ‘She’ll kick up a fuss if he doesn’t.’
She put her hand to her heart and took a shuddering breath. ‘You haven’t – you haven’t done anything wrong, Hugo? She is from a good family, isn’t she?’ The thought of scandal or of him making a poor marriage with someone unsuitable filled her with dismay.
‘She’s eminently suitable, Mother. She has money, she’s from a good family – one of the best in the area. The only thing she hasn’t got is brains and I’m not too bothered about that.’
No, Mrs Purnell agreed. Brains were not as important as breeding for a wife. But there was something he wasn’t telling her. She knew her son well enough to know when he was holding something back. ‘So, who is she? Do I know her or her family?’
He smiled faintly but looked away. ‘I’m sure you will be pleased, Mama, when you get used to the idea.’ His voice was placatory. ‘You know her well. It’s Deborah Francis. Daughter of your cousin and Roger Francis.’
Mrs Purnell’s face turned ashen. ‘You can’t be serious? You can’t be serious! You know the history. There is madness in the family! Think again, Hugo.’ She shook her head disbelievingly. ‘Not her! Anyone but her! Besides her father would never agree. He’s very protective towards her, to both of his children. He won’t allow it!’ She tried to be convincing, but the look on his face told her she had failed.
‘Listen, Mother.’ He knelt beside her and whispering softly he topped up her glass of sherry. ‘He will agree. We’ve concocted a story to make him agree. No, I’m not going to tell you what it is. But listen to what I have to say. She is the richest young woman of marriageable age in the district. No-one else will take the risk of proposing marriage because of her background, but it doesn’t put me off. I don’t intend to give
her children so there will be no imbeciles in the family, you may be assured of that – and she’s very attractive. You haven’t seen her since she was a child. I tell you, she is a lovely young woman, a little excitable, I agree, but quite a beauty.’
He hesitated. ‘I met her mother, of course, and she saw how attached Deborah was to me. I think I can safely say that she will be quite agreeable to the marriage. If anyone can persuade Roger Francis that his daughter should marry me, his wife can.’
‘He can’t be serious!’ Roger Francis confronted his wife, a letter held limply in his hand. ‘He says that he met you and Deborah in Italy and that he is sure that you approve of his intentions toward our daughter!’
He stared glassily at his wife. ‘He surely knows of the situation here? His mother must have talked about us. How can he possibly think of marriage? It’s out of the question!’
His wife gave a grim laugh. ‘I fear you will find that Deborah has different ideas. She is quite besotted with him. It was quite embarrassing at times.’
‘She has these phases of adoring particular people,’ he said angrily, ‘but it passes when she gets bored with them. She can’t possibly marry.’ He threw down the letter. ‘He’s a fortune hunter! Don’t tell me he’s not!’
‘I’m quite sure that he is.’ She looked away into the middle distance. ‘But I’m afraid we have no alternative but to allow it.’
‘What do you mean? Eleanor? What do you mean?’ He sank down into a chair, but then got up again. ‘What has happened? Speak, for God’s sake!’
‘Do not raise your voice to me!’ She glared angrily back at him. ‘I found your precious daughter and Hugo Purnell in a compromising situation as we were returning home.’ She put her head in her hands. ‘I had searched all over the ship for her and was about to call the Captain, when I suddenly thought of asking Hugo Purnell to help me look for her. I had left them together having coffee on the deck about an hour before.
‘I need some time to myself,’ she added resentfully before he could protest, ‘I can’t be watching her the whole time! Anyway,’ her voice dropped, ‘I knocked on his cabin door and when he opened it, I saw that Deborah was there. She was sitting on his bed. She’d taken her shoes and stockings off and was swinging her legs and looking very pleased with herself!’
‘Blackguard!’ He spat out the insult. ‘Do you think that he –?’ He couldn’t bring himself to ask the question.
‘How would I know?’ She looked at her husband with loathing in her eyes. ‘You’re the one who would know that! You and all whoring men.’
‘Eleanor! Enough!’ The hurt showed in his anxious face. ‘God knows I have tried to make amends.’
‘Well it’s too late now; for you and for her,’ she spat out. ‘When I questioned her about what she was doing there she just smiled sweetly and said, “Nice things”! Then later she told me that she was going to marry him. I cannot take any more,’ she whispered. ‘This tour was a nightmare for me. If you do not agree to this marriage and we find that she is with child, then I shall insist that we send her to join her brother in the asylum.’
He sank down into his chair again and rubbed his forehead. His hands trembled. ‘I’ll have to speak to Purnell. I’ll try to find out, explain the situation in case he doesn’t realize it. I mean, she shouldn’t have children in case –.’
‘In case they inherit your line of madness!’ There was no sympathy in her voice, no compassion.
‘You are being so unfair, Eleanor,’ he said wearily. ‘You know that I hadn’t been told. I would never have had children had I known. My parents have a lot to answer for,’ he said bitterly. ‘They were ashamed, I know, but they should have told me.’
Hugo Purnell arrived the next day and Deborah greeted him with squeals of delight, throwing her arms around him. ‘Hugo! Papa – this is Hugo. Isn’t he so handsome? So adorable? And he wants to marry me. Don’t you, Hugo?’
Hugo bowed politely to Roger Francis and then kissed Deborah’s hand. ‘I would like to speak to your father alone, Deborah.’ He spoke gently but firmly to her. ‘You and I will talk later.’
‘Go and find your mother, Deborah, and tell her that Mr Purnell is here.’ Roger Francis ushered his daughter away and coldly invited Hugo Purnell to join him in the library.
‘First of all, sir,’ he began without preamble, ‘if what my wife says is true, and I have no reason to doubt her word, then I must tell you that I consider your conduct towards my daughter most reprehensible.’
Hugo opened his mouth to protest, but Roger Francis continued, ‘You must have heard of her condition and I consider that you have taken unfair advantage of her vulnerability. What do you have to say, sir?’
Hugo gave a lazy smile. ‘Your daughter, sir, practically threw herself at me, there was no conniving for her affections on my part. During the whole of my time in Italy I was besieged by her attentions.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘You must know how warm and affectionate she can be towards those she takes a fancy to.’
Roger Francis conceded this with a slight nod of his head.
‘However, sir,’ Hugo rubbed his hands together, ‘I must confess that my affections, which are quite genuine I assure you, were rather carried away on our journey home – Mrs Francis will have told you of the rather embarrassing incident? I did not intend inviting Deborah to visit me in my cabin, but she just arrived at my door.’
‘She has the mind of a child,’ Roger Francis broke in. ‘You took advantage of her!’
Hugo smiled thinly. ‘Believe me, sir, she is not a child, far from it.’ He stared him in the eyes. ‘But I have an affection for Deborah. I would take care of her if we were married. We would live with my mother, therefore she would have a constant companion.’ He appeared to hesitate, yet Roger Francis felt the hesitation was contrived. ‘And if I may be so bold, Mr Francis, she would not be at the mercy of undesirable philanderers who, without honourable intentions, might take advantage of her – erm, passion, should I say, which if you will forgive me sir, can stir the fire somewhat.’
‘I consider you a scoundrel, sir, to speak of my daughter in such a manner.’ Roger Francis was full of cold fury. ‘And I would like to receive your assurance that you have not violated her innocence!’
Hugo said nothing but merely patted his fingertips together, then, raising his head, he said, ‘I have said I am willing to marry her. To do the honourable thing. What more can I offer?’
The door burst open and Deborah flew in, followed by her mother. Hugo gave her a small bow. ‘Charmed to meet you again, Mrs Francis. I trust you are well?’
She ignored his pleasantries and looked towards her husband. ‘What has been decided?’
Deborah looked from one to another. ‘Have you been talking about me, Papa? With Hugo? We’re going to be married! I’m going to have a cream silk dress with pink rosebuds embroidered all over it, and a sweet little pink bonnet, and what else did we say, Hugo? I can’t remember.’ She went up to him and put her arms around his waist.
He gently extricated himself from her grasp and looked significantly at her father. ‘You must discuss the finer details with your parents, Deborah. It’s in their hands now.’
Chapter Thirteen
‘Emily! Come here.’ Mrs Anderson beckoned to her. ‘You were in service with the Francises. Can you tell me why Mrs Purnell is not pleased with ’news that Mr Hugo is to marry their daughter?’
‘Marry Miss Deborah?’ Emily received the news with a mixture of relief and foreboding. Relief that perhaps Mr Hugo would not pay her quite so much attention if he was married; several times he had caught her alone on the landing and seized a kiss, but she had a foreboding that she might see more of Miss Deborah and be the butt of her attention again. ‘Well,’ she began doubtfully, remembering Mrs Castle’s advice not to see or hear anything in an employer’s household, ‘she is a little excitable sometimes.’
Dolly snorted and put her finger to her forehead. ‘I heard as she was a bit –!’
‘Well, it’s a mystery.’ Mrs Anderson was perplexed. ‘But ’news is enough to send ’mistress to her bed when you’d think she would be delighted.’
‘Delighted!’ Mrs Purnell had exclaimed when Hugo told her that he had a letter from Roger Francis saying he accepted the proposal of marriage on his daughter’s behalf. The letter had been formal and without compliments. ‘I am not delighted,’ she emphasized when Hugo complained of her negative attitude towards the tidings. ‘Of all the young women you could have chosen you have to choose someone who is unhinged!’
‘You will like her, Mother,’ he insisted. ‘She is charming and merry, full of life. She will brighten your day considerably.’
‘Brighten my day?’ She frowned suspiciously. ‘What do you mean, brighten my day?’
‘When I bring her home,’ he said cheerfully. ‘You will get along so well, I’m convinced of it.’
‘You are not thinking of bringing her here to live?’ She gazed at her son in marked trepidation.
‘But of course.’ Nonchalantly he stretched and smiled. ‘Where else would we live? I couldn’t possibly live in the country, and besides this place is too big just for you; and you would miss me, now wouldn’t you, if I went away?’
And it was then that Mrs Purnell took to her bed whilst Hugo went about making arrangements for his wedding to Deborah Francis and ordering the decorators to come in and paint and paper the bedroom which he had designated as suitable for his future wife.
‘What do you think, Emily? Come and see. Will the new Mrs Purnell like the choice I have made?’ He took hold of her arm as she walked by and pulled her into the room, which still smelled of paint. A new mahogany tester bed had been installed, its drapes covered over with sheeting. A mahogany writing table had been placed in the window, whilst on the marble washstand a jug and washbowl in white and decorated with pink flowers stood beside an ornate oil lamp.