The Price of Beauty

by McCabe, Helen

  But how long would it last and, even more important, was there enough to pay for the new pipes to be laid. It was rumoured work would be underway later that week but all was in uproar because Miss Annesley was missing!

  Sam was off to Strettons that morning and hadn’t been looking forward to Monday either. He’d had a bad night and dreams of disaster.

  In fact, there was a gloom about the whole family as Sally dressed the shivering children in the hard pink of dawn.

  “Now, lass, don’t ye get doin’ too much,” said Sam, drawing on his boots. Since he’d spoken to Master Sheridan, he was morose. There was no way he’d tell his mother nor Sal where he’d be working that day.

  “I won’t,” cried Sally, “but I feel so useless doing nothing. I might come down to you later!” But then she remembered where he was working. “Or to see you, Mam?”

  “Don’t come near us,” said her mother, picking up their daily bundles. “If Dobson sees you, he’ll think you fit for work.” There was resentment in her mother’s voice.

  Throughout her pregnancies, she’d been shown no care, except from her husband who was powerless to do anything but slave shovelling coal under the pans. But their Sally had Mr Caleb and Miss Annesley as champions!

  “Alright, Mam, I won’t then,” said Sally, dreading another cheerless day. “Will you leave me the babby?”

  “No, her’s happy with the little wench,” said her mother, picking up the baby. “There’s plenty to do here anyway.”

  “And I’ve cut your wood,” said Sam. “Remember.”

  “Thanks,” said Sally, kissing him on the cheek. Her brothers and sisters exchanged glances. They were frightened of him, but Sally could twist him round her finger.

  Later, a disconsolate Sally leaned against the lintel as her whole family, led by Sam, tramped off down the towpath, crunching with frost.

  The last she saw of her brother was as the tall figure turned to wave to her at the bend and she waved back...

  *

  Caleb Vyne was worried when he saw Sheridan’s plans, but both stepfather and grandfather were determined to overrule him. He’d remonstrated with them but they wouldn’t hear of any change.

  “I estimate the brine is too deep for us to sink the bore safely,” were the last brief words he said. At least, he had negated his responsibility. It was up to them now. If they were able to penetrate the gypsum, who knew what force of brine stream ran below?

  They laughed at him. Billy Sheridan’s piggy eyes were gleaming at the thought of new bushels of salt.

  “Shut your mouth, Caleb Vyne. I was trained as an engineer and I know how far we can go. We have to tackle the seepage, otherwise our profits will diminish.”

  “Your profits are increasing,” retorted Caleb, “as you take advantage of Annesley. And why can’t we attend to the seepage? I’ve heard the new master of Stoke makes seepage a priority. It is said his deep shafts will be lined with iron and sealed!”

  “Nonsense,” quavered old Mr Stretton. “We haven’t Corbett’s cash! All we can do is discover new brine and it is there, flowing under the earth to be tapped!”

  Caleb’s warnings had, as ever, gone unheard. The damned Irishman who’d married his mother had put such notions in old Stretton’s head that no one could shift and his oldest grandson was sick of the lot of them.

  He had to attend the boring but he intended to get away as quickly as he could to continue his search for Miss Annesley.

  He knew now he didn’t believe Charlie’s words. He had decided that whoever had abducted her had been local and that she would be found in some building in the town.

  Like the constables he’d enquired at the station. No one had seen her leave. He’d been to the livery stables and she hadn’t hired a horse. He’d checked cab drivers and every kind of conveyance leaving Upwych that Saturday and it had come to nothing.

  Caleb was sure Miss Annesley had been hidden or, for some reason of her own, had gone into hiding herself. Yet the latter he didn’t really believe either. From what he knew of Lydia, she wouldn’t cause her aunt such pain. And the old lady was crazy with worry, so Blanchard said. Caleb was determined to find her, as was Sam.

  It was a bad business that Sam Shrike was back working for them against his will. It must have been death to him to accept work from Charlie. But the beating Caleb had given his half-brother might make him wary in the future when he was thinking of ravishing young women!

  Caleb hoped Sam hadn’t carried out his threat to confront Charlie. It would do the salter no good. But he was a good lad and always heeded Caleb’s words!

  As Caleb hacked along on his bay to the site, he passed the coalyard and the deserted stable nearby where Charlie had perpetrated the worst of his crimes. The place needed demolishing soon. He’d promised Sally Shrike that, at least.

  Its half-door was swinging wide open in the wind, revealing the empty expanse inside. He glanced up to the loft window where the crime had taken place and shivered. Whatever woman Caleb had taken had always agreed. There was no way he could ever constrain a woman!

  He hacked on, wrapped in his riding cloak, with the noise of heavy machinery battering his ears. If he hadn’t been a Stretton, what would have been his fate? Might he have travelled in Europe like other fashionable young men and seen the sights of the world?

  But Caleb’s education had come mostly from his own reading; the school to which he had been sent had been inadequate, full of the boorish sons of country squires and self-made men. Salters were gentlemen in the shires, but could not compare with the oldest gentry.

  Yet, in Upwych, Strettons and Annesleys were the masters and, being one of them, he couldn’t throw away his heritage. Given his mother’s unwise marriage to Billy Sheridan, every day brought that moment nearer when he would be disinherited in favour of that scoundrel, Charlie Sheridan.

  As Caleb rode on to the site of the boring, he was telling himself should that day ever come, he would pack his bags and leave Raven’s Mill for good. Or even England? But it was then he thought of his sick mother in her faded green gown. The only way he could say farewell to Lavinia was when she said goodbye to this earth finally. He couldn’t desert her to be abused by Billy Sheridan!

  In the distance, Caleb could see his stepfather giving orders, accompanied by Charlie. He drew in his breath, stifling a sigh.

  He could see no way out of his predicament, into which he had entered, entirely without blame as a young and innocent boy left with no natural father to protect his interests!

  Then, breaking into a gallop, Caleb Vyne headed for the meadow where Strettons were about to sink the deepest bore hole yet seen in the Upwych environs.

  The site was a maelstrom of huts, which stood precariously on ground that had been churned by the hooves of the shire horses, dragging in heavy tackle. The frost had hardened the great ruts of muddy ground and men walking along them swore as their boots broke the glassy ice, splintering it into crunching splinters.

  Many of the workers wore jackets, too thin to protect them from the weather, but also too warm to keep on wearing under the pressure of hard labour. Therefore, even on that biting morning, men were stripping off as they sweated with the spade and shovel, filling carts and receptacles with tons of soil from the diggings.

  The bit for boring was in place, ready to be driven into the ground. And beneath it men were disappearing into the great pit which had been started over the last few weeks. The pump house was criss-crossed and circled by workers, who carried on each of their tasks in the manner of ants engaged in frenzied activity.

  Around were trenches being laid for new pipes, full of workers and their spades. Soon, Caleb was amongst all the monstrous mess, which accompanied the drawing of the newly-discovered brine to the surface from where it crawled sluggishly along in its underground river pathway...

  Sam Shrike and a few other courageous salters were working frantically at the very mouth of the shaft. But Caleb didn’t see him. He had other things on
his mind, like looking for Lydia Annesley.

  He didn’t dismount, only nodded absent-mindedly in direction of the salters, whose back-breaking task he did not envy. He kept looking in the direction he had come, past the coal yard and over towards the Shrike cottage.

  Then he would look at Charlie, who was, as usual, lording it over everyone including the foreman of works. The young puppy thought, like his father, he knew everything about engineering! He was striding about in a claret-coloured coat, his fair hair tied back with a silk and his unpleasant voice roaring at anyone he fancied.

  Had he committed some evil against Miss Annesley or was his story of her flight plain truth? Caleb doubted it for the hundredth time. But how could he make him tell?

  It was then Caleb began to feel the strangest emotion he’d ever known. He wanted to see Lydia again! He could not bear it if she was lost to him! It was suddenly very clear. Miss Annesley had become more than just a pleasant acquaintance. He had admired her for her courage, beauty and tenacity before, said he wished them to be friends.

  He remembered her loveliness as she stood, framed in the window of the train; by the great fireplace at Annesley when he’d offered her his help...And now he was mad to see her again - even to take her in his arms and -

  He came to with a start as the gang of salters began to drive down through the surface of the earth. He was trying to act as overseer, but Miss Annesley’s red-gold hair and green eyes were so fixed in his mind that he couldn’t rid himself of the image.

  He was surprised at the depth of his feeling, remembering that he had no knowledge of young society women of eighteen years only. What kind of man was he becoming?

  As the shouts below rose into the air encouraging the gang at the centre of the bore pressing down into the earth’s heart, he was thinking of his own, fast-beating. Her memory had brought up such feelings and he begged for their relief in the finding of their author.

  Could she care for him? He was her sworn enemy and she had ridden to Raven’s Mill to accuse him. Had his explanation to justify himself been enough? She had allowed him to hold her hand.

  That villain Charlie had intimated she preferred him to Caleb. If past signs were anything to go by, then the liar could be speaking the truth this time. No woman seemed able to resist him, willing or unwilling!

  Caleb had no fancy words and phrases for women. He spoke only what was in his heart. The thought was agonising. Perhaps he would never see Lydia again; never get the chance to be near her, or talk peaceably with her instead of wrangling? He had to find her...

  *

  Sally Shrike had felt unnaturally worried for hours after her brother and the rest of the family had left. Coupled with her sickness, the morning hours were most unpleasant. Between visits to the privy and lying on the sofa, Sally decided she needed some fresh air.

  She’d also made up her mind to go over to Strettons new site in spite of her fear of Charlie Sheridan. She was worried about Sam. She’d not liked the look on his face the moment he’d got up that morning. She was sure something was wrong with him. He’d threatened to have it out with her attacker and she was afraid what would happen to him.

  As she hurried towards the site, her breath coming short and fast, the machinery noise was already increasing which meant that they’d commenced with the boring of the new shaft...

  *

  In her underground prison, Lydia Annesley had been trying since dawn to reach the trapdoor above her. It didn’t help that her body was so cold and weak from lack of food, but she was still attempting to escape.

  If only she could move the rectangular wood block, which was making her a prisoner. Another terrible night could be in store if she didn’t succeed.

  She had dragged the table finally into the corner and was standing on it. But she had no strength nor was she even tall enough to reach the hatch if she had.

  Climbing down painfully, she commanded her fuddled brain to respond. What else could she do? With her riding crop in her hand, she managed to get the chair upon the table. Now she could reach! But was the trapdoor chained on the outside? She prayed then that it wasn’t!

  Every effort to reach that precarious position of standing balancing on the chair was agony. If she overbalanced, she might break her leg.

  Carefully climbing down from the table again, she took off the torn skirt of her riding habit and her petticoat and stays. Then, clad only in drawers from the waist down and bodice on top, she climbed up again, sweating freely with the exertion.

  Her hair hung about her like a wet cloak, as Lydia prised and pushed at the trap with her riding crop and hands, screaming out for help in short bursts.

  She could see daylight above crown level but she knew in her heart that no one could hear her cries as the noise of daytime machinery in the distance was growing even louder. On the other hand, out there were people, who would help her if only she could alert them. She kept pushing and pushing frantically, then pausing to rest with her eyes closed...

  *

  The boring continued to go well but was driving dangerously deeper. The tackle had struck exceptionally hard rock and there was a question they could go on further. But Billy Sheridan wouldn’t stop. He intended to suck up the brine below and line his own pockets handsomely from the bushels of salt it would produce...

  “Harder!” he urged, “Deeper, men, deeper!” Accompanied by Charlie, he was standing at a safe distance using a megaphone. And, meanwhile the patient horses strove on, carting the soil away...

  Finally, the gypsum gave and the bore struck the brine seam, which wasn’t sluggish but was a lethally fast-flowing river!

  Sam heard it first, a roaring, rumbling and thundering below his feet. He nor the others had any time to retreat as the brine came rolling up like a tidal wave.

  It burst through the earth with a savage roar, taking the men with it, who were working closest to the shaft, and tossed them like empty husks high in the air.

  Sam felt little then except for a great rush and gurgle in his lungs and ears as he fell from the nothing of air and was struck by a searing red-hot pain which agonisingly but mercifully took his senses clean away into an eternity of blackness...

  *

  Caleb’s startled horse bucked like the others around and it was only its rider’s presence of mind which prevented him being thrown. Panic and confusion followed. With his injured men’s cries in his ears, Caleb spurred towards the bore, where the brine was gushing out...

  They found Sam Shrike lying senseless some fifty feet from the scene. He had fallen onto a wooden stake, jutting out of the ground, which had speared him through the stomach. All Caleb’s horrified eyes could take in was the copious amount of Sam’s blood seeping away and the immediate knowledge that his friend, the salter was close to his end.

  There was nothing anyone could do. Another small knot of men collected about every casualty and a worker had been dispatched to fetch Dr May. But everyone knew he couldn’t help Sam Shrike.

  As Caleb Vyne’s hand lay over Sam’s, the salter let his last breath out of his chest in a juddering gasp.

  “He’s gone,” said Caleb, looking up at the rough faces around him, some of them streaked with tears. “Sam’s gone.” He shook his head, hopelessly.

  Caleb couldn’t say even a prayer for him. He was too full of hate for his stepfather. If the man had listened, Sam mightn’t be lying dead now. There was no sign of Billy Sheridan!

  He got up off his knees, straightened and threw his cloak about him. What about the rest of the men? A swift search revealed three in a serious state and one luckily unscathed, but badly shocked.

  Then Caleb saw Charlie. With wide, steady strides, Caleb negotiated the mud holes, now full to overflowing with brine.

  “What was Sam Shrike doing down the bore? You know he had children to feed! Answer me!” And he was shaking Charlie like the man’s own terriers had torn away at the badger’s set. The salters looked on dumbly.

  “He needed the money, Caleb
! He was willing!” Then Billy Sheridan came running from the foreman’s office, and fastened himself on to Caleb, trying to prise his arm away. And still, the salters watched their masters struggling, their silence slowly growing into a dull muttering.

  Caleb shook off the Irishman and threw Charlie down in the mud.

  “Wallow in your brine,” he shouted. “What you’ve done to the best man in this town can only compare with what you did to his sister!” It was then they heard screaming...

  Sally had begun to run when the explosion happened, arriving on the site just after Sam’s fatal fall. She’d found him and was lying beside her brother’s body in a paroxysm of grief. Her shawl and dress was stiffening with his blood and she seemed like a bundle of rags as Caleb Vyne ran across frantically, pulled her up gently and hid her face against his shoulder.

  Then she was turning from his arms and picking her way through the soaking debris towards Charlie Sheridan. Caleb Vyne and his men followed her silently and did not try to detain her. Like a wild cat, Sally was up and at him, battering him with her fists.

  “What was Sam doing at the bottom of the shaft, you murderer? That was what you wanted, wasn’t it? You wanted vengeance on him for laying my shame upon your shoulders.” Her strength almost gone, she fell back with the other workers, who had made a circle about the couple and, hunching her thin shoulders, screamed:

  “This is the culprit who needs shaming. This is the man who plucked my virtue in the stable over there. Who raped me on Christmas Eve! In a stable. Think on it! And, now, he has killed my brother. Sam! Sam! My dearest brother!” She was rocking to and fro with grief.

  And it was Caleb who broke through to comfort her but she pushed him away with her small hands.

  “No, Master Caleb. Listen --” she was walking round at the ever-deepening circle, “-- listen all of you. The bastard inside me is Charlie Sheridan’s. And Caleb Vyne is innocent of any charges laid against him. He only did me and my brother good. My brother, my brother.” She shook her head in disbelief. It was then a woman broke through the circle too and cradled Sally’s body to her.