Ashes on the Moor

by Sarah M. Eden

  “Grandfather might send her back to that school. I still would not have her with me. I would be all alone and so very far from home.”

  “Mr. Barton says you have a couple of weeks yet before you need to go,” he said. “That’s time enough for me to find a new position. Leeds is growing fast. There’d be ample work for a brick mason.”

  Every thought stopped. Her lungs froze in her chest. “I don’t understand.”

  He stepped directly in front of her and slipped the slates from her arms, setting them on the bench beside them. Tenderly, he took her face in his hands. “If you are going to Leeds, so am I.”

  “But what of your back-to-backs?” She spoke with no more volume than he did.

  His hands slid to her shoulders, then down her arms. “They’ll be done before the two weeks are out. I’ll be ready to go.”

  She set a hand tentatively on his chest, tempted to clutch his shirt to prevent him from slipping away. So many questions ran through her mind, so many worries. “What of Ronan?”

  The tiniest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “I thought I’d bring him with me.”

  Even she could allow a moment’s amusement at his laughing tone. “You would truly give up everything you’ve built for yourself here?”

  “They’re only things, Evangeline. Things matter very little when all is said and done.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her to him. “But you mean the world to me. I will go wherever you are going, whether it be Leeds or London or Botany Bay.”

  “But you’ve worked so hard for the opportunities you have here,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to regret it.”

  He leaned ever closer and lowered his voice to match hers. “I’ll not regret a moment.”

  She could feel his heart pounding beneath her hand, matching the rhythm of hers. His free arm wrapped around her as well, enveloping her in his warm embrace.

  “Do you think you can be happy in Leeds?” Dermot’s breath tiptoed over her lips.

  “You will be with me,” she answered. “I will be joyous.”

  His lips, tentative and gentle, brushed over hers. A breath shuddered from her. He kissed the very corner of her mouth. She touched her fingertips to his stubbled jaw. His kiss, uncertain at first, changed on the instant. There was no longer a question in it, but a declaration.

  I will go wherever you are going, he had vowed. Life was once again forcing her down a path not of her choosing. This time, however, she was not walking it alone.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Dermot’s first set of back-to-back houses was nearly complete. He’d wager they’d be ready for tenants in a week or two. The floors were laid. The windows were in. The stairs were finished and the banisters placed. He was waiting on a few of the final details: fireplace grates and iron handrails for the front steps. In the meantime, his crews were finishing the garden beds so the families living there would have a small place for their kitchen herbs and such.

  He was proud of how it had turned out, especially considering the unlikeliness of being given such an opportunity again. A brick mason could always find work, especially in a town growing as quickly as Leeds and neighboring Bradford. He wasn’t worried about starving for want of wages, but he’d not be head of his own crew nor overseeing a project on the scope of the one he’d been entrusted with in Smeatley. Further, he’d be back to being a nameless Irishman “taking jobs away from the English.” He’d not enjoy that. But he’d be near Evangeline, and for that, he’d endure the indignities all over again.

  Hugo Palmer came running toward him. “Mr. Farr’s ambling up t’ ginnel!”

  Mr. Farr was in the alleyway? His arrival was unexpected, but Dermot was more than prepared to meet him. He was proud of the work he’d done and knew Mr. Farr would be impressed.

  The man himself stepped out of the alleyway in the next moment. His discerning eye studied everything. Dermot kept to his position and waited, letting the work speak for itself.

  “I walked through the first house.” Mr. Farr spoke as he loomed over the men laying the brick for the planters. “You completed it within budget?”

  “Well within.”

  Mr. Farr nodded. “You’re also well within the schedule you proposed.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  For that cheeky remark he received something resembling a smile, though it quickly dissolved into a ponderous expression. “The mill needs more workers. Between your houses and the changes I’m requiring to be made at the factory, we’ll have no trouble filling all the positions we have.”

  Dermot was glad to hear the complaints lodged against the mill had been heard and taken into consideration. Though most of the town had never warmed to him, he cared enough for those he’d grown attached to for their happiness to matter to him. “Have you heard that your granddaughter is losing her position as teacher?”

  Mr. Farr nodded and, to his credit, seemed to genuinely regret the situation. “I did attempt to convince Mr. Garvey otherwise, but he’s not a man who can be reasoned with once his pride is on the line.”

  “An interesting choice to oversee the education of children.”

  “He wouldn’t have been my pick.”

  Dermot motioned him inside the house nearest them; he’d rather his men not hear the remainder of the conversation.

  Mr. Farr eyed the narrow window in the entryway as they stepped past, no doubt checking the workmanship. “Has Evangeline happened to mention what she means to do next?”

  “What choice does she have? Her entire life’s being taken away.” He waited for Mr. Farr to look at him again. “She’s resigned herself to what little choice she has over her future.”

  He had Mr. Farr’s full attention. “Resigning herself? Does she not want to come to Leeds?”

  How could he possibly lack even a basic understanding of his own granddaughter’s character? “She cares about this town’s children. She’s devoted herself to them. And she’s made a home here for herself and her sister. It’s all being taken away, just as it was all those months ago.”

  “When her parents and brothers died,” Mr. Farr said.

  “When, after enduring such loss, her remaining family turned their backs on her.”

  Mr. Farr folded his arms over his chest. His gaze narrowed.

  Dermot had his toe in the icy water; he might as well jump all the way in. “She was brought to this unknown place and told she had no family, no connections, no one she could turn to with questions or concerns to alleviate her loneliness. Her wee sister was snatched away from her without so much as a word of farewell, the only connection between them for months being the letters she received from Miss Lucy begging and pleading to be spared the misery she was enduring at the school where she’d been sent. Miss Blake was told to be independent, to prove herself capable and able to see to her own concerns and future. She’s done precisely that, with not a soul in her family giving her the least help. Her aunt, in fact, has been cruel, and her uncle has done little to alleviate that cruelty.”

  Mr. Farr acknowledged the truth with a sigh. “There is history between them that Evangeline does not understand.”

  “She deserves to know,” Dermot insisted. “Whatever is causing the misery, she’s the one being made to suffer for it.”

  “She has suffered a great deal,” Mr. Farr acknowledged.

  “And she continues to,” Dermot said. “She’s being told she must choose the future others have decided for her and give up the very independence she’d been instructed to develop. So, aye. I said ‘resigned’ and I meant it.”

  “You’re quite her fierce defender.” ’Twasn’t an observation offered with even the slightest degree of ridicule. Rather, Mr. Farr seemed impressed.

  “She hardly needs me to be,” Dermot said. “But I’ll speak in her defense anytime ’tis called for.”

  “Even
to one with power over the work you do here?”

  “Even to you, Mr. Farr.”

  His sharp gaze narrowed. “And why is that?”

  “Because she holds my heart in her hands. She is all the world to me, and though you may hold sway over one future stretched out before me, any future that doesn’t include her isn’t one worth groveling for.”

  Mr. Farr watched him, amazement on his face.

  “She’s being forced to Leeds,” Dermot said, “so I’m going there as well.”

  “What of your back-to-backs?” Mr. Farr asked.

  “These’ll be finished before I go. I’ll not leave m’ word unfulfilled.”

  Mr. Farr shook his head. “I had come here intending to ask how many more you could build and how quickly. I’m prepared to make you a very generous offer, to strike a bargain that would see you in fine fettle for years to come.”

  Dermot folded his arms across his chest. “I’ll go where she is, no matter the cost.”

  “You love her,” Mr. Farr said.

  “More than anything else in all the world, certainly more than these houses.”

  The man looked around the entryway, his gaze lingering on the doorway to the parlor and the stairs leading upward. “You truly did good work here, McCormick. It’d be a shame to lose your guiding hand.”

  “I know what’s most important to me.”

  Mr. Farr gave a single twitch of his head, no more than half a shake. “You’ve given me a mind full to think about.”

  “And I’ve a grand lot o’ work to do,” Dermot said. “I’ll get back to it, if you’ve no objections.”

  “Will you join us for supper tonight at the Bartons’ home?”

  The invitation could not possibly have caught Dermot more unsuspecting. “Me?”

  Mr. Farr chuckled. “I would have been just as shocked by such an invitation at your age. I had hardly two ha’pennies to rub together and no claims to importance in the eyes of those who felt themselves above me.” He slapped a hand on Dermot’s shoulder. “I know a man of worth when I see him.”

  “And that’d be me?”

  Mr. Farr nodded firmly. “Will we see you tonight?”

  “If I’m permitted to bring m’ boy. He’ll not give anyone trouble.”

  “Of course.”

  ’Twas Dermot’s turn to nod.

  “Seven o’clock,” Mr. Farr said.

  His shock remained for long minutes after Mr. Farr left. Dermot was to take supper with a fine family in a house far grander than any he’d supped in before, and he was to do so while biting back his true opinion of the man and woman who lived there.

  This’ll be an odd sort of night, I’m full sure of it.

  Dermot and Ronan stood at the edge of Hillside House’s front wall, waiting for the Blake sisters to arrive. Though Mr. Farr hadn’t said that his granddaughters would be in attendance, Dermot hadn’t the least doubt they would be.

  After only a few minutes, his guess proved correct. Bundled against the cold, Evangeline and Lucy turned the corner from Market Cross. Matching smiles spread over their faces as they approached.

  “Dermot.” Heavens, he loved the eager way Evangeline said his name. “What are you doing here? The two of you must be frozen solid.”

  “Ronan,” he said, “walk on ahead with Miss Lucy. I’m wanting to offer our Evangeline a good evening.”

  Lucy giggled. “Come on, Ronan. We’ll give these two sweethearts a bit of privacy.”

  Just like her sister, Lucy knew precisely the right way to befriend Ronan. She simply moved at his side, not forcing conversation or nearness.

  “Did you wait here simply to see us?” Evangeline asked. “I would have come by your house to bid you a good evening. That would have saved you the misery of this bitterly cold night.”

  “Aye, but not the bitterness of our miserably cold hostess.”

  After a moment, her confusion gave way to realization. “You have been invited to eat with the family tonight.”

  “Your grandfather invited me.” He slipped his arms around her waist. “I haven’t offered you a proper good evening yet, my dear.”

  “No, you haven’t.”

  “And I’m afraid I’m too cold to do so now.”

  “A shame.” She slipped backward, out of his loose embrace, and began walking toward the house.

  “Wait, lass. I’m warm enough.”

  But she only laughed, the sound utterly flirtatious. The smile remained on her face as the Bartons’ high-starched butler ushered them inside. The house was as suffocatingly lavish as ever. During his time working on the place, Dermot had far preferred staying outside. Still, he was an invited guest, and this was Evangeline’s family. He could endure nearly anything for her sake.

  Mrs. Barton stood in the parlor, her face lit by a dozen points of light from the chandelier above her head. Her hand rested lightly on a gold-leafed table. She eyed them all down the length of her nose. Her expression turned to a sneer when her gaze reached Evangeline.

  Dermot leaned a touch closer to Evangeline. “Courage, my dear,” he whispered.

  She actually laughed. “I am not afraid of her.”

  Lucy looped her arm through Evangeline’s. “Neither am I.”

  “Onward, then, generals.” Dermot motioned the sisters ahead.

  They stepped fully inside the parlor with all the dignity of royalty but none of the pomp. The strength he’d seen in Evangeline had begun blossoming in her sister as well. The two of them moved directly past their aunt to where their grandfather stood. He greeted them with quick embraces and a warmth Dermot had not expected to see.

  Mrs. Barton seemed more frustrated than surprised. She, however, did not comment, something for which Dermot was grateful. Though he’d never before been invited to a fine meal in a fine house, he knew enough of manners and civility to know that aggravating one’s hostess was frowned upon.

  Ronan kept close to Dermot’s side. To his credit, the lad kept calm and quiet, though his eyes didn’t stray far from Evangeline. She had become a source of comfort to the boy. Following her to Leeds would be best for the both of them. He only hoped it would be best for Evangeline.

  “Before we step inside for our meal,” Mr. Farr said, addressing the room at large, including Mr. Barton, who stood off to the side, “I wish to address something of importance. A few things, in fact.”

  Evangeline met Dermot’s eye. The silent pleading in her eyes pulled at his heartstrings. He set his hand on Ronan’s back and moved the two of them to where his sweetheart stood. She slipped her hand in his. Ronan tucked himself against Dermot’s leg. Lucy leaned against her sister’s arm. Together they faced Mr. Farr and whatever he meant to say.

  “It was rightly pointed out to me earlier that some things have been left unspoken in this family that ought not to have been.”

  Mrs. Barton paled. “This hardly seems appropriate—”

  “So long as you mean to punish Evangeline for the difficulties of the past, it is more than appropriate,” Mr. Farr said.

  Evangeline held more tightly to Dermot’s hand.

  “Do you not intend to put a stop to this, Robert?” Mrs. Barton demanded of her husband.

  Mr. Barton turned away. Mr. Farr shot his daughter a look of warning, then addressed Evangeline directly. “I never made any secret of the fact that I was not overly fond of your father.”

  “No, you did not.”

  “I had always imagined Elizabeth marrying someone with a background and temperament similar to my own. I even had someone in mind.”

  Mrs. Barton’s frown turned ferocious. “I wholeheartedly object to this.”

  “Hush, Bertha,” Mr. Barton said quietly.

  “Elizabeth made her choice, and I confess I was disappointed,” Mr. Farr continued. “However, the man I had chosen for her re
mained connected to our family, continuing in the business I was building, and he did, eventually, become my son-in-law.”

  “Uncle Barton?” Evangeline whispered.

  Mr. Farr nodded. “That ought to have been the end of things, but it proved only the beginning.”

  “Were you unhappy?” Evangeline’s question might have been directed to any one of her family members.

  ’Twas Mr. Farr who answered first. “All seemed fine at first.”

  “What happened?” Evangeline asked.

  Mrs. Barton’s harsh gaze fell squarely on her niece. “My husband was still in love with my sister, that is ‘what happened.’”

  Mr. Barton faced his wife. “I would not have married you if I had still been in love with her.”

  “I saw it in your eyes whenever you looked at her. You smiled in ways you never smiled at me. You were happier in her company.”

  Mr. Barton shook his head, holding up his hands in frustration. “I was fond of Elizabeth; how could I not be? But you saw what you chose to see.”

  “What I saw was a woman who could charm anyone. What I saw was you falling into her trap. I have spent all the years of our marriage living in her shadow.”

  Mr. Barton attempted to interrupt, but Mrs. Barton pushed onward.

  “Then her daughter comes to this town, fully ready to trade upon the family name to secure her own comforts, and you were more than prepared to fawn over her, just as you did her mother.” Mrs. Barton’s shoulders squared in defiance. “It is time someone in the Blake family understood her place in the world.”

  Dermot glanced at Lucy, worried for the girl. But both she and Evangeline stood tall and determined.

  Evangeline shook her head. “You punished me, denied me my own family—my sister—even attempted to strip me of my dignity, because your husband once courted my mother? Months of suffering that had nothing to do with me.”

  “He loved her,” Mrs. Barton said. “He loved her more deeply than he ever loved me.”

  Mr. Barton looked exhausted, in both mind and body. “We might have learned to love each other more deeply, Bertha, but you never permitted it. You have spent years punishing me for not having met you first, and we have both suffered for it.”