Lydia, too, knew that each time she saw Sally Shrike’s child she would be thinking of Sheridan!
Caleb continued, “I’m referring to one Albert Younger.” Aunt Elizabeth was raising her eyebrows again.
“Strange name,” said Lord George.
“He comes from the North of England, my lord. He used to be a barge man before he took to the factory.”
“You seem to know more about my workers than I do,” she said drily. “But I have let go the reins of late and left it all to George.” My lord smiled, patted her on the hand and continued with his dinner.
“Maria Shrike and he are walking out.”
“At her age?” Aunt Elizabeth looked suitably shocked.
“Why not, aunt?” cried Lydia mischievously.
“Indeed,” said Caleb. “Besides, the woman is lonely having lost husband and son. The man is a straight fellow and is evidently hankering for home.”
“Where’s that then?” asked George.
“Cheshire.”
“Ah, I thought so. I have cousins up there. Something to do with the salt mines.”
“Even better,” said Caleb, “then you can give the Shrikes an introduction. And even a reference.”
“Wonderful,” said Lydia. “You mean then, Caleb, to send them into Cheshire?”
“But they’re to be married, mind!” said Aunt Elizabeth, drawing her cashmere shawl about her. “Loose living is the scourge of the salt trade and my workers have always been encouraged not to partake in foul practices.”
“Quite so, Elizabeth. Bravo!” cried Lord George.
“I believe it is their wish,” answered Caleb, looking Lydia full in the eyes. “Then you will support their move, Miss Elizabeth. Lord George?” The elderly folk nodded.
Elizabeth finished her dessert and waited for Lydia. Then she tweaked her purple skirts about her.
“Come through to the dining-room, dear and leave the men to their port. I’m sure they’ve much to talk about.” With a covert and loving glance at Caleb from under her dark eyelashes, Lydia rose from the table and followed her aunt...
“Wonderful-looking young woman, Caleb,” said George. “Makes me quite envious.”
“I love her to distraction, George,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve been happier in the whole of my life. Lydia means the world to me.”
“Well, old chap,” said George, “you both mean that to the whole of Upwych. You’ve had your bad times, now enjoy your good. There’s not a salter in Upwych who does not wish you well. I, for my part, am just glad the feud is over. Your grandfather shows no sign of coming to his senses?”
“No, he is badly stricken. Just how long he will last none of us know.” A frown passed over Caleb’s brow at the thought of the tyrannical old man, who had tried to blight his future.
“Then he must be pitied,” said George, pouring himself port. “And you shall be master now both of Annesley and Raven’s Mill.”
“And what of you, sir?” Caleb’s eyes twinkled. “You have been doing well on that front, have you not?”
“I have been playing at brinemaster, Caleb. But, soon, if I play my cards right, it will be bridge and hunting again, with perhaps a lady to keep me company. Of course, that’s if she’ll have me this time!”
“Then I wish you good luck with her, George!” Caleb laughed and shook hands with a true gentleman who, although near to seventy, still had plenty of time to make up all the living he had missed.
*
They had chosen after Christmas for the wedding. Lydia thought it was a good time. She had come to Upwych in the winter and a fresh year seemed a good time to begin their new life.
She had never been happier than on New Year’s Eve when she woke and realised she was to be married to Caleb Vyne. The whole house was in uproar like her heart and even Wilson, the housekeeper, was singing a song as she went about her duties.
Lord George had been asked to give the bride away and had arrived already and was preening in the morning room.
Lydia had risen late and the hairdresser had come and gone. Her auburn tresses were smoothly obedient and her head crowned with a chaplet of flowers, ordered by Caleb especially. There were ribbons twined around them, which kissed the back of her neck.
When she looked in the mirror, she hardly knew herself. Her new stays, although constricting, had drawn in her waist to seventeen inches. The circumference of her hoop about which she’d worried in London, was amply fashionable and, after stepping into the dress held by Sarah, she wondered how Caleb would even get near her, so wide was the skirt.
But the dress itself was wonderful, looped and scooped with bows; the crinoline in purest white was the dream of any young bride. Lydia had never worn any jewellery but simple pearls before and when Aunt Elizabeth had presented her with the Annesley emeralds, she’d gasped.
They matched her eyes almost exactly and, when Sarah had clasped them about her neck, the girl had cried out in pleasure, “They’m wonderful, miss.”
They were, and fitting for the heiress of Annesley, having been kept in Mr Smith’s vault since her grandfather, Herbert Annesley married his wife.
A trifling frown passed over Lydia’s face as she thought of how her mother had not been deemed worthy, but it passed. She would think of only happy things on her wedding day. And her father had made a true love match.
She remembered the day she had sat in her chair in the London bedroom and wondered if Upwych would yield romance. What things had happened to her since? But now she had Caleb and all things had come right.
The thought of her handsome husband-to-be made her catch her breath and her cheeks flame. Tonight could not come soon enough for her. Her heart beat fast. She had had no one to tell her about love, Mama having died and Aunt Elizabeth quite prudish.
She was ignorant of a man’s needs, but had much belief that Caleb would have the experience. She determined she would never think of his half-brother again who was slaving under hard labour. He had been lying when he said he’d touched her. But would Caleb know?
*
On her way to the church, Miss Elizabeth Annesley remembered her thoughts on looking at Liddy in her wedding gown. No such ravishing bride had been seen in Upwych for years.
As an old maid, it made her heart lurch to see the girl she had brought back from London - and to count her own single years as loss. But then fond thoughts of her old friend arose. Lord George had been a treasure. But, as the carriage pulled up at the lych gate, she was thinking of Caleb Vyne, whose father, although unattainable, had meant so much to her. Each time she saw his son, she fancied that he could have been hers. But an old maid must take the opportunity nearest to home...
Lydia smiled as she waited for Lord George. He came in, looking remarkably smart in his wedding frock coat and carrying a wonderful top hat, brushed to perfection.
“I beg your pardon for staring, Miss Lydia, but you are beautiful.” Sarah handed her the bouquet and stood back.
Lydia looked around the pretty bedroom that had been hers in Annesley House. Soon, she would be a wedded woman and sharing a new one with Caleb. A thrill ran right through her then.
He was taking her back to Raven’s Mill! In the months they had waited for the wedding, he had not allowed her to enter the house, saying he was making changes - all for her; that the present state of the mill precluded a visit.
His grandfather had full time nursing and would be no trouble to her, he said, given the size of the place. But he’d arranged for the old man to be moved to the Royal to give them some privacy at first.
Once Caleb had offered to buy another home for them both but she had declined, knowing her fascination for the strange house by the river. And it was his by right.
So he’d agreed. Before they set off on their wedding journey, they would spend the night under its roof. The thought of being with Caleb there made Lydia tremble.
Allowing Lord George to take her arm, Lydia, emeralds glittering about her neck and holding h
er beautiful bouquet, passed out of Annesley House to the waiting carriage, towards her wedding at Dodderhill.
*
The Shrikes, now re-named Younger, had agreed they wouldn’t leave Upwych before they saw Mr Caleb and Miss Annesley married. But they needed to be in Cheshire for New Year!
Maria chivvied the children as they hurried over Chapel Bridge. Albert was carrying the youngest, while Sally came behind with her baby, James Caleb.
She’d fed him earlier so he wouldn’t be squalling throughout the service. There’d be no room for salters in Dodderhill church itself, but the vicar had allowed them to stand in the churchyard to watch. It was cold but fresh for New Year and they didn’t mind the weather as they all had hope for better things to come.
Both Maria and Sal were thinking about Sam and Joseph as they passed the grave where the broken bodies lay. The family paused to say a prayer, while Albert stood back in his good-mannered way, cap in hand.
“Aye, lad,” said Maria, “you’d be glad today, wouldn’t you, to see Mr Caleb done right by after all.”
“And Sam,” added Sally. “He loved Mr Caleb right well. But he’ll know wherever he is. And where we’re gone!” She shifted the baby to her hip. She loved little Jim in a way she thought she never could. But, sometimes, when she was feeding him, his extraordinary blue eyes made her shiver!
She cheered wildly with the rest as the young master and mistress came out of church. Like the rest of the salters, she gasped at the beauty of the new Mrs Vyne in her wedding dress.
But, unlike the rest of the town girls, she was not thinking of Mr Caleb Vyne on his wedding night. Instead, she was remembering the kindly way he held her hand and comforted her on the day she gave birth to his half-brother’s baby.
As Mr and Mrs Vyne drove away in their shining carriage to Annesley House and their wedding feast, Sally Shrike wished with all her might, that they would enjoy a wondrous life together...
Later that day, Albert Younger and Maria collected all their baggage, which was waiting ready on a small hand cart and walked to Upwych station, together with the Shrike children and Sally and her baby.
The stationmaster’s eyes was wide with surprise as they waited for the afternoon train to Birmingham. The fare had cost a great deal and the Shrikes were not folk with money.
But Albert Younger had drawn out his pocket book like a gentleman and placed the tickets inside. The master of Stretton and Annesley had been a generous man and, from what he’d seen in Upwych, salt men were gentlemen.
He beamed at Maria and his new family as he put his pocket book back carefully, wishing Mr Caleb Vyne and his pretty young wife good health, wealth and happiness for the future.
CHAPTER 16
The carriage bringing Lydia and Caleb from their wedding feast came to a halt at the head of the valley which led to Raven’s Mill. There, two grooms were waiting with lanterns, holding Sophie and Caleb’s bay.
Her new husband helped Lydia mount in the darkness and his eyes, reflected in the lantern’s light, were full of love.
As Lydia waited for the men to mount as well, she looked up to the frosty sky, full of stars. In a few hours it would be New Year and she was celebrating it as she’d never imagined. On her wedding day!
How different that ride seemed from the ones she had taken with Blanchard. Caleb led the way on the sure-footed bay with Sophie following on the leading rein. Lydia was content. She liked to think this was how it would be in the future, but she also knew that with such a husband, she could lead too if she wished.
They passed that dark and silent place she’d first seen Sally Shrike leaning against Caleb’s chest. What a fool she’d been to mistrust him!
Then, watching the lanterns shine on the water, Lydia determined not to think of being swept away under the timber bridge, only of coming to with Caleb whispering words of sweetness in her ears.
The horses picked their way through the darkness of the wild valley and, except for Caleb’s fond solicitudes, Lydia could hear no sounds but the distant bark of dogs and owls crying eerily.
And, soon, she could see a light. Caleb broke into a trot as the path by the river widened. Raven’s Mill was close by. Lydia’s heart beat in time with Sophie’s hoofs as she thought of what was to come.
She gasped as they halted at the timber bridge. On the opposite side, the windows of the once-dark house were full of lighted candles. And a boy was running across to help take the horses. As he and the grooms continued, Caleb looked down at his wife.
“My darling,” he said, pulling her close. “Welcome to Raven’s Mill.” They walked across the bridge together. And Lydia didn’t notice the dark water, only leaned on his strong arm.
*
How had Lydia ever thought Raven’s Mill sinister? She stood inside looking round the stone-floored hall, dressed in its Christmas finery.
The ornate wooden fireplace, decorated with carved classical scenes, held a blazing log fire while, above it, Lydia caught sight of her own unfamiliar reflection in the mirror. Then the maid was helping untie her riding bonnet and unfasten her cloak.
“This is Hannah, Lydia. She will wait on you until Sarah comes here after our wedding journey.” The girl bobbed and obediently took their cloaks away.
“How fine everything is, Caleb,” Lydia exclaimed.
“You like it then, Liddy?”
She nodded, her eyes wide with wonder. Then, taking her arm, Caleb led her through to the drawing-room.
The sumptuous carpet was as bright as the family silver displayed in an array of tall glass cupboards. The furniture had been bought from the finest maker and the oil paintings Caleb had loved as a child now had a sharp and brilliant clarity. All that the Sheridans had soiled was gone forever. Caleb had gone to the most extraordinary amount of trouble to see to that.
But he could not replace his mother, whose portrait stood over the mantelpiece, clad in the green gown his father had bought her from Birmingham when they had been first married.
But Lydia’s delighted eyes were only drawn to the magnificent spruce standing in the corner of the room, its height towering up to the gallery above.
“A Christmas tree!” she cried, looking at Caleb. They had been the fashion for some time now, and she had seen several in London, but this was the best of all. Its branches gave off twinkling lights where the candles had been set and upon it hung a variety of packages.
Eyes full of love, Caleb went over, reached out, plucked one and handed it to Lydia. Then, stooping beneath the tree, he held out a second.
“But you have given me presents already, Caleb,” she cried, thinking of his Christmas generosity.
“And I will give you many more,” he murmured, kissing her. After they had embraced, he helped her open both.
The small box was a joy, a brooch worked in the finest silver. Lydia had never seen anything like it before.
“Snowdrops, Caleb?” Her eyes questioned him. The jewelled flower-heads were mother-of-pearl, with delicate yellow diamond eyes.
“A feature of Raven’s Mill, Liddy,” he answered. “And now --” her fingers were probing into the second package excitedly. She saw first its colour, then drew out the garment carefully.
“Oh, Caleb, it’s exquisite!” It was the most wondrous robe of brilliant green silk, which matched her eyes. “Where did you get it?” He smiled at her pleasure.
“A secret for now, Liddy!” He put a finger to his lips.
“But I have nothing for you,” she said, still staring at the brooch and the gown. Then, looking up into his eyes, she blushed.
“You have something for me more precious than any money can buy,” he said directly, his face full of love. He held her to him tenderly and, then, her head close against his shoulder, taking the small candelabra in his hand, he drew her towards the staircase.
*
Caleb was only just awake when he heard the distant bells of Upwych.
“Happy New Year, my darling Liddy,” he said, as she
lay, her auburn hair streaming across his naked chest. He stroked its brightness tenderly.
He could scarcely believe his good fortune, having everything he desired in the world. He had always been maligned, but his life had turned into a miracle.
He had no great ambitions, except to be a good husband and a fair brinemaster. In that order. And the bells kept ringing...
“Can you hear me, Liddy. It’s New Year’s Day!”
But Lydia didn’t stir. He bent and kissed her cheek.
“Asleep already?” he murmured, but she didn’t answer. She was far away from Upwych, still dreaming of Raven’s Mill and Mr Caleb Vyne.
If you enjoyed The Price of Beauty you might be interested in Chance Encounters by Helen McCabe, also published by Endeavour Press.
Extract from Chance Encounters by Helen McCabe
Chapter 1
‘Lauren. Wake up.’
Lauren came to, rubbed her neck and blinked. However comfortable the deep leather seats of Gary’s land cruiser were, she’d managed to lie awkwardly and crick her neck. She moved, grimaced with the pain, then opened her eyes full into a deep-pink dawn. The landscape was bathed in a rosy light making the French countryside look like a high definition movie. They were speeding between rock and gorges. On one of the highest peaks, Lauren could see a castle clinging to the very pinnacle, forged into the rock face.
‘Nice view,’ she said, then she reached down for her bag. Gary turned from the wheel and smiled as Lauren started rummaging in its depths. She looked up, conscious of his admiring eyes. ‘How long have I been asleep?’
‘Three hours. You slipped against me, so I propped you up.’ She winced and was about to retort he hadn’t made a very good job of it – then decided it would be better to keep her boss in a good mood. He was notoriously bad-tempered in the morning, especially if they had an early assignment.
‘I’m sorry,’ he added.
‘What for?’
‘We should have stayed the night somewhere, off the auto route. But you know what I’m like.’
The Price of Beauty Page 25