‘Why not?’
‘Ooh, it’s not my place to say, sir…only…you might see summat that would upset you.’ Mercy flapped her hands and put on a great show of being caught out. ‘I just wouldn’t, sir, that’s all.’
Amos set her firmly to one side and pushed it open. He saw them at once: his wife and his hired man. They were standing close together and she was gazing up at him, a flush on her lovely cheeks, while his hand was on her hair. Amos saw how they instantly leapt apart when they heard the door open, Ella’s eyes wide and frightened. Then she came running over, looking flustered, asking if he needed anything. Amos glared at her, then turning on his heel, strode away.
Mercy crept back to the kitchen, a secret smile on her face.
Ella was devastated by what had just occurred. What bad luck that Amos should choose to walk in at just that inopportune moment? George had been commenting that she looked tired, insisting that she take more rest now he and Mercy were here to help. Suddenly there he was, framed in the doorway, glaring at them both. She’d felt like a defenceless rabbit transfixed by the beam of a torch.
She had to admit that it had looked bad. George had been tucking a stray curl behind her ear, which he’d really had no right to do. Yet nothing had been going on. They’d only been talking, although admittedly she’d been tempted to open her heart perhaps more than she should. But then George was a good listener, and most sympathetic to her plight.
Ella wasn’t in the least tempted by his flirting, or believed a word of his silly flattery, much as it might make her blush at times. More importantly she’d no wish to betray Amos, or harm her relationship with him, so why had she foolishly leapt away when he’d walked in upon them like that, making it appear as if they were guilty when that was definitely not the case?
Why hadn’t she remained calm and simply walked over to him with a smile, as any loving wife would?
Ella’s one preoccupation was to try and find a way to win over her husband. He wasn’t an easy man, but he was honest and good. She knew that he came from a long line of yeoman stock, an independent breed with a strong sense of what was right and wrong. Amos involved himself in church and community affairs because, no doubt, his father before him had done so. Such men would often take on the role of constable, churchwarden, or justice of the peace, sit on juries or help collect rates. Yet this could often make them somewhat condemnatory of others’ faults.
She’d thought recently that Amos was slowly beginning to relax and not be quite so quick to judge, and was learning to show his feelings, little by little. He was a kind man, albeit one with problems.
After her talk with Mrs Jessop, Ella had come to understand her husband better. He spoke less often of Esther, and didn’t follow his first wife’s rules quite so blindly. He’d even stopped endlessly quoting the scriptures at her. Then there was the surprise purchase of the pony and trap, and the fact he’d started to pay her a few compliments. Ella had really become quite optimistic of things starting to improve between them.
Now she’d ruined everything.
That night, for the first time since he’d made love to her in the attic, Amos came to her bed. Ella could hardly believe it when she heard his hand on the latch. She was excited and terrified all at the same time. What had inspired him to come? Was it out of jealousy? She wondered if she should reassure him that what he’d witnessed in the barn had been perfectly innocent, that she wasn’t in the least attracted to George. And yet reminding him of that scene could be a mistake, making more of the incident than it rightly deserved. He might see her protestations as yet another sign of guilt, as if she needed to defend herself.
Oh, but she wanted so much to please him. She wanted a proper marriage and a husband who loved her. She wanted a child.
While Amos went through his usual ritual of washing, and a lengthy prayer on his knees, head bowed, Ella slipped quietly out of bed and drew from the chest the nightgown Livia had persuaded her to buy. It was a deep blush pink with an edging of coffee-coloured lace around the low-cut neckline and short sleeves, quite unlike the modest white cotton nightgown she normally wore, which covered her from neck to toes. Within minutes she’d changed and was back in bed, the sheet flung back so that as he reached to turn off the oil lamp on the side table he looked at her for the first time.
His mouth fell open, his gaze riveted to the rapid rise and fall of her breasts above the low cut neckline. Ella, breathless with hope and excitement, smiled up into his face. ‘I’m so pleased you came, Amos. I’ve been hoping for so long that you would.’
Even as she spoke what she meant to be soft words of encouragement, she saw his face tighten with displeasure. His next words stunned her.
‘Is that what you wore when you cavorted with Danny Gilpin, and with George? Did you enjoy making me jealous so that I’d fall for your shameless tricks too? Just look at you. Like a whore of Babylon in that get-up. Where is your dignity, woman, your decency? You disgrace yourself and me by such wanton behaviour.’ And having delivered these blisteringly cruel words, he picked up the lamp and returned to the attic. Ella put her face in her hands and sobbed her heart out.
Chapter Thirty-Five
There was snow powdering the fells as Amos drove into Kendal the next morning, although it was only November. The hills were pin-sharp in the luminescent light, the river dancing at their feet, surging along with a chuckling glee on this first winter’s morning. Amos did not share its joy. He’d spent a miserable night alone in the attic going over everything in his head. Had he over-reacted? Did he see fault where none existed? Why should loving her shame him so?
He remembered what he’d felt when he’d first seen Ella with her pale silver hair and green-grey eyes. He’d been entranced by her silky skin, the wide loving smiles she’d shared with her sisters. How he’d longed to have that smile turn upon him. It had been at some function or other at Angel House that he’d first seen her, a time when Josiah had been in the business of buying land. Those plans didn’t seem to have come to fruition after all, and now his own marriage seemed destined to fail.
Yet why had he imagined she would come willingly to his home, an isolated farm, and to his bed? He was a plain, dull farmer with nothing to recommend him at all, and she was a beautiful young woman.
And what had possessed him to think he could trust her? She was a woman. Weren’t all women sinners? Hadn’t she herself confessed to loving another, a Danny Gilpin?
Amos had prayed long and hard to his God, and finally vowed he could overcome any doubts and concerns he might have on the wisdom of this union. He’d wanted her, and foolishly believed he could make her happy, that she might at least come to love his children.
Now she was making eyes at another man in his own home, his own barn, and dressing like a hoyden, a harlot no less. Perhaps he shouldn’t have reacted quite so strongly last night, but he’d been haunted by the thought of her wearing that very same garment with him, her paramour. He’d had a sudden vision of the pair of them cavorting together in that very same bed, perhaps while he was out tending the sheep. Hadn’t he suffered enough? All he’d wanted to do last night, felt able to do, was to run from that knowing invitation in her eyes.
He’d spent a sleepless night, endlessly tossing and turning, feeling out of his depth, and not having the first idea what to do next. He’d risen at dawn and driven the cart into town to ask his father-in-law for help. Someone had to knock some sense into his silly young wife’s head, since she showed no sign of listening to him. Who better to turn to than her own father?
* * *
Josiah listened to the tale Amos told him in aggrieved silence, enraged that yet another of his daughters was about to become involved in a scandal. What was wrong with them all? As if he didn’t have enough on his plate to worry about right now without Ella creating mayhem.
Only this morning he’d received notice that the bank had frozen his accounts. They were about to appoint a receiver to look closely into his finances. He no lo
nger had any say over the future of his own home, let alone Angel’s Department Store. One or both could be sold off at a knock-down price to the highest bidder, in order that the bank, and various other creditors, could have their pound of flesh. It made Josiah sick to his stomach to see his fortunes sink so low. Very soon, when word of his financial difficulties got out, his humiliation would be plain for all to titter and gossip over.
The only consolation, so far as Josiah could see, was that Hodson wouldn’t benefit from his downfall. His rival had sent round a note this morning saying that he was off to foreign climes, seeking a new future and a second fortune on the Riviera, for the sake of his dear mother’s health. Hah, a likely tale! Running for cover more like, after what he’d done to Livia, or rather failed to do. No doubt terrified she might spill the beans. Serve him right for not finishing the job properly and bringing her to heel as intended. Good riddance to bad rubbish, in Josiah’s opinion.
Unfortunately, Hodson’s departure had not come soon enough to save the day, but at least the man wouldn’t get his hands on Angel’s Department Store. That dratted loan never would get repaid now, not if Josiah had any say in the matter.
There was at least some satisfaction in that.
But this could all have been so easily avoided, if only Livia had been more accommodating, and if Maggie had not carried out the ultimate disgrace. And if that workhouse brat hadn’t come into his life, threatening to ruin his reputation completely. Now Ella was about to embark upon an affair with some labourer her husband had hired.
Damnation! It was more than any father should be asked to endure. Would his daughters never learn to behave with proper decency?
His first reaction was to deny responsibility, on the grounds it was up to Ella’s husband to control her now, not her father. But then Amos made an interesting remark which brought him up short.
‘I’d foolishly imagined that things were getting better between us, so much so that I’d taken on extra help in the house and dairy: a girl called Mercy. I also took on her husband George as a hired hand to work with me on the farm. The girl is only seventeen or eighteen, young to be married, but I’ve checked the marriage certificate and I’m satisfied the union is genuine. Now this George has the gall to take a fancy to my wife. I saw them together the other day and I was sickened by the way he was touching her and she was lapping up the attention. I swear I’m at my wits’ end.’
Josiah became very quiet. Surely there couldn’t be more than one girl of that name in Kendal? It was not a common one. Clearing his throat, he idly enquired. ‘Where did you meet them, this couple?’
‘It was Livia who introduced them to me at her friends’ house, and I thought…I mean…they seemed perfectly respectable and…’ Amos stopped, frowning, the first seeds of doubt forming in his mind. Had he said something wrong? Should he perhaps not have mentioned Livia, or her friends? He knew there was some form of estrangement between both girls and their father, something to do with their sister Maggie’s death, although why they should blame him for the girl’s suicide he had no idea. They had not told him the full tale and he had not asked, presuming it to be private, family business.
Josiah smiled. ‘Friends of Livia’s, you say? Then you may well be right that they are indeed respectable, although they could simply be some of her lame ducks. I’ll have a word with Ella, if you wish. Try to find out what’s going on, and remind her of the need to appreciate how very fortunate she is to have such a good husband. It’s time the lass grew up.’
Amos sighed with relief, and instantly stopped worrying about Livia. She was not his concern in any case. Didn’t he have enough to worry about with Ella, his lovely wife, whom he seemed to be losing just when he’d thought they were growing close at last? If Josiah could help, what more could he ask? He didn’t give a thought to Mercy. Why would he? She was nothing but a dairymaid, so far as Amos was concerned.
‘Thank you, Father-in-law. I would greatly appreciate your assistance in this delicate matter.’
‘Consider it done.’
Nothing on God’s earth would prevent Josiah from taking this opportunity to finally deal with that misbegotten child and at least spare himself the ignominy of any further scandal.
That same afternoon, Josiah was sitting in Ella’s parlour drinking tea and eating her damson pie. Ella was wondering why she’d ever felt afraid of him. He was nothing more than a sad old man. He looked deeply weary, his flabby cheeks drooping even more than usual, the eyes more twisted, the mouth slack rather than firm and determined. He seemed to have aged noticeably since last she’d seen him, but she felt not a jot of sympathy for him.
Ella sat, spine rigid, with not even a polite smile to lighten her own grim expression. Nor did she pay much attention to whatever it was he was saying to her, something about how she should appreciate her good fortune, that she mustn’t create a scandal or misbehave, be a good little wife and other such nonsense. As if she would have the opportunity to be anything else out here in the back of beyond, even had she wanted to misbehave! Which she didn’t, in point of fact. But how could she be a good wife if her husband wouldn’t come near her?
She’d felt quite ill today, hardly able to comprehend that it had all gone wrong for them yet again. She kept hearing those words Amos had used, ‘whore of Babylon’. What on earth did he mean? What was so wrong with wearing a pretty nightgown? She hadn’t even realised she was making a mistake simply by trying to look nice for him. Wasn’t she even allowed to be feminine, to enjoy being a woman now that she was a farmer’s wife? A preacher’s wife! She felt quite tearful at the thought, and very afraid. How would she ever reach him when he was so good, so morally upstanding, so bloody perfect?
Now to be forced to sit here in her own parlour and be lectured by her father was too much. Had Amos said something to him about their difficulties? She’d never forgive him if he had.
Ella watched with dismay as Mrs Rackett served Josiah a second slice of damson pie, glaring fiercely when she cut it extra large with a generous portion of cream, and banished her with a look. The older woman crept away, back to the kitchen. Ella held her tongue as her father launched into yet another lecture, this time about lack of gratitude on her part, and that of her sisters, for all he had done for them. The way he was singing his own praises almost made her laugh out loud.
She shut her ears to the sound of his voice, focused upon getting this little domestic scene over and done with as quickly as possible, and getting Josiah out of her house. Otherwise she might explode and hit him in the face with the remains of this damson pie. The visit had been unasked for and unexpected. His very presence in her parlour made her skin crawl. Ella waited with barely contained patience for him to mop up the last piece of pie, then got to her feet the instant he laid down his spoon.
‘Well, thank you for calling, Father. It was interesting to see you and hear your news.’ Had he brought any news? She really couldn’t remember, not having paid proper attention to anything that he’d said. ‘I trust you will take proper care of yourself.’
‘I don’t seem to have any choice since my daughters are hell-bent on creating havoc,’ he grumbled. ‘You bring me nothing but grief.’
The pale winter light of the afternoon was darkening, and it had started to snow again, great piles of it starting to drift and pile up against the farmhouse walls. Ella had a sudden vision of Josiah’s motor getting stuck in the lane, compelling him to return and stay the night. She quickly handed him his hat and waterproof. ‘I don’t wish to hurry you but the weather is worsening and you wouldn’t want to get caught up in a snowstorm on your way home to Kendal, would you?’
She briskly ushered him off the premises, almost dusting the mat of the imprint of his feet and quickly closing the door before he’d even reached his motor. Let him drive into a snowdrift for all she cared, so long as he didn’t come back here. Ever!
But Josiah did not immediately climb into his Mercedes-Benz and drive away. Unseen by anyone in the g
athering snow, he went to the barn and after hunting around for a likely spot, he set a gin trap just where George and Mercy would come down the stairs from the loft above. Half hidden by darkness and a scattering of straw, they wouldn’t see it until it was far too late. Josiah didn’t much care which of them got caught in it. He would prefer it to be Mercy, but seeing her husband crippled would serve almost as well. The revenge would be just as sweet.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The snow hadn’t lain for long before a downpour of rain had banished it, sweeping the dale clean, and the following morning Ella woke to bright skies and crisp, clear mountain air. But not even the improved weather could lift her spirits following her father’s visit. Ella felt quite low. It disturbed her to think that he was still involved in her life, still ruling and controlling her, even though it was almost eighteen months since she’d left home. What right had he to lecture her on how to behave as a wife? Had Amos been complaining about her?
She’d thought her new nightdress was really quite elegant and tasteful when she’d bought it, not at all the kind a scarlet woman would choose to wear. Why did Amos always think the worst of her? Why hadn’t he thought her pretty? Why didn’t he trust her?
Coming to a sudden decision, she ran upstairs to the attic, empty at this time of day as Amos was out on the fells, probably checking on which ewes still needed to be served by the tup.
The attic was gloomy, with only a little light filtering in through the narrow fanlight, dust motes floating in a shaft of pale winter sunlight. It was bitterly cold with fierce draughts blowing in through the ill-fitting window; a wonder Amos didn’t freeze up here in wintertime.
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