Swallowing her tears, she looked up at him. ‘You… you married,’ she whispered. ‘Tom Reynolds told…’
He put his finger over her lips. ‘No,’ he said. He could have told her that the only woman in his house lately was the housekeeper. His previous companion had lied when she claimed to have been expecting his child. In the end she realised, as he had always done, that a marriage between them would only be an unhappy one ‘There’s so much to tell,’ he said. ‘So much to talk about. But there’ll be time enough for that… all the time in the world. Right now, all we need to know is that we’re together, and nothing must ever part us again.’ He spoke with tenderness, yet there was anger too. In her wickedness, Esther Ward had tried to part them and for a while she had succeeded, but he had Beth in his arms now and he would never again let her go. He gazed at her longingly, she looked so tired, so thin and worn. And yet he thought she had never been more beautiful; with her long chestnut-brown hair cascading over her shoulders and those large dark eyes that shimmered with tears, she seemed like a child, lost and alone. But there was a strength in her that astonished him, for she had been through so much. The awful things she had suffered, the things he had learned, only convinced him that Beth was a special breed of woman, and he loved her all the more. And so he held her close, and whispered his plans for the future, and she clung to him, silently listening, her heart soaring to the skies at his nearness. He was right. There was much to talk about, but not now. Not now, when her every nerve-ending was tingling with excitement. Not now, while he was holding her to his heart.
She had not forgotten her other joys, the girl-child clasped in her arm and her son… Tyler’s son… seated beside her, his large green eyes staring up at this man who so clearly loved his mammy. ‘This is your son,’ she said, drawing the boy closer. For a long poignant moment Tyler gazed down at the face that was so much like his own, and he was thrilled. ‘Hello, Richard,’ he said. ‘Cissie’s told me all about you.’
‘Are you my daddy?’ the boy asked simply.
‘I am,’ replied Tyler. ‘And we’re going to have a lot of fun getting to know each other.’ He ruffled the boy’s hair. He wanted to grab him and hug him tight, but somehow he didn’t think Richard was ready for that.
‘Are you my very own daddy?’ He was fascinated.
‘Yes, sweetheart,’ Beth laughed through her tears. ‘He’s your very own daddy.’ She could feel Tyler’s arms strong about her, and her world was complete.
‘And can you make wooden trains like this one?’ the boy asked of Tyler, holding up the train which Moll Sutton had given to him.
He smiled fondly. ‘If my son wants me to make a train for him, then I promise I’ll do my very best,’ he said. The boy was satisfied. Climbing from the bed, he ran out of the room, calling out, ‘Cissie! Cissie! I’ve got my very own daddy, and he’s gonna make me a train!’
Laughing, Tyler turned to Beth. Looking into her eyes, his mood became quiet. Placing his fingers beneath her chin he tilted her head back and kissed her full on the mouth, turning her heart over. Afterwards she laid her head on his shoulder and told him how much she had missed him, and they remained that way for a while, quiet in their thoughts, and so very much in love.
He looked down at the newborn, gently drawing the shawl from those tiny features. ‘She’s beautiful,’ he whispered. ‘And, oh, Beth… she’s so like you.’
‘You don’t mind her?’
His answer was to take the baby in his arms. ‘She’ll be ours,’ he said softly. ‘How could I not love her?’ And Beth’s happiness spilled over. She looked up, and there at the door was Cissie, the tears coursing down her face and her features so crumpled she looked as though she was in awful pain. ‘Oh, Beth!’ she cried, wringing her hands together in wonderful anguish, her voice all broken and laughing. ‘Oh, Beth… it’s just like one o’ them wonderful fairy-tales that you think won’t ever come true.’ She burst into a fit of sobbing and, running across the room, she grabbed Beth into her arms. ‘Oh, it’s grand!’ she laughed. ‘It’s right grand!’ Matthew appeared at the door, and when he quietly asked of Beth, ‘Can you forgive me?’ she opened her arms to him, and he went to her. Soon they were all laughing and chattering, and the excitement was all too much for Cissie, who skipped round the room with Richard at her heels. Their hearts full, Tyler and Beth laughed at her antics, and Matthew cradled the baby, and they were a family at last; the only family Beth ever wanted.
For the next twenty-four hours, until Beth was strong enough to leave, the little house blossomed with happiness, and even the neighbours came to visit. ‘We’ve been wrong,’ said one. ‘Right bloody cantankerous,’ said another. And all was forgiven. When the carriage went away, carrying Beth and Tyler, Cissie and Matthew, and the two children, the neighbours were there to wave them off. ‘God bless yer,’ called Moll Sutton as they trundled out of sight. ‘And don’t forget ter send us invitations ter the wedding, lass.’
* * *
Less than two months later, on the last day in December, Beth and her family were dealt a sad blow, when Ben was made to pay the full penalty for the murder of Tom Reynolds. His mother was inconsolable. Crazed with grief, she became her own executioner. On the stroke of the same hour that her son was taken to the gallows, she went into his bedroom and there asked the Lord for forgiveness before putting the noose round her own neck and ending her miserable life.
Chapter Sixteen
On 4 February 1893, Tyler and Beth were married. Dressed in a simple but lovely gown of blue and white taffeta, Beth was stunningly beautiful. In a quiet voice, she exchanged her vows with the man she loved, and he stood by her side, tall and straight, adoring and proud, occasionally glancing down into her dark smiling eyes and reassuringly squeezing her hand.
They made a handsome couple as they walked between the rows of guests. So many people. With the exception of one particular character by the name of Ruby Dennings, who enjoyed being miserable, all the Larkhill women had turned out in force, some dabbing at their eyes with hankies as the happy couple walked by, some smiling broadly and some nodding their heads in approval. And there were Beth’s parents; her father, that big gentle man who had come to Beth with a full and contrite heart. Beth had eagerly received him, and their reconciliation had been both tender and emotional. With a mingling of pride and humility, Richard had then introduced Beth to her mother, and together they had told their own tragic story.
Deeply moved, Beth was drawn to Elizabeth straightaway and they had spent many an hour quietly talking together, for there was so much that Beth needed to know. Elizabeth was a lovely, gentle lady, and Beth was glad that she had come to know her before it was too late. In those first moments when Beth was made to realise that Esther was not her real mother, she was deeply shocked, but then there had risen in her a stronger emotion, a deep inner instinct that somehow, she had always known she did not belong to that cruel vindictive woman. In Elizabeth’s gentle company, she felt wanted at last, loved as a daughter should be loved. The feeling was unique and wonderful. At last, she was home.
Now, when Beth met Elizabeth’s proud gaze, that same warm pleasure murmured through her. Their smiles intermingled and each knew the other’s thoughts. Momentarily pausing, Beth reached out to wrap her fingers over Elizabeth’s pale slender hand. Surprised and delighted by the loving gesture, Elizabeth looked up, her eyes sparkling with tears of joy. Beth stooped to kiss her mother’s face. ‘I love you,’ she whispered. And though she gave thanks for Elizabeth having been returned to her, Beth would never know how much those words meant to that dear woman.
Standing protectively beside Elizabeth was Tilly Mulliver, ever devoted to her mistress but in love with Richard Ward, and he with her. Beth had sensed the love between them, yet, like Tilly herself, understood how this precious time must be shared by her parents.
As they emerged into the crisp morning sunlight, Tyler turned to Beth, his arm round her and his head bent to hers. ‘Happy, sweetheart?’ he aske
d.
‘More than you’ll ever know,’ she told him in a whisper. And then they were surrounded by many well-wishers; including Matthew with his pretty new lady-friend, who lived in Larkhill. These two were hopeful that they might even get wed themselves and maybe live in one of the new places which Matthew and a local developer were planning to build down Larkhill. Then there was Cissie, who had stood beside Beth at the altar, and who looked extremely fetching in a ‘posh’ gown which she had insisted on choosing herself, a pink extravaganza of huge bows and endless ribbons, and bright yellow silk daisies along the hem. All of Beth’s attempts to persuade her into something quieter were greeted by cries of, ‘I ain’t never had a chance to be the bride’s maid… an’ I might never get a chance agin, so I’m mekking the best of it!’ Realising that it was as much Cissie’s day as it was hers, Beth had gone along with her wishes. And, truth be told, the dress really did look as though it was made for her, and everyone said so.
‘Don’t you worry about the children,’ Tilly Mulliver told Beth. ‘Richard and little Maisie will be in very good hands with me and their grandparents.’
Richard Ward came forward to kiss Beth on the forehead, a contented smile on his kindly face. ‘The young ’uns will be just fine,’ he reassured her. ‘Between Elizabeth and Tilly, they’ll be spoilt for choice. Then there’s Cissie and Matthew staying with us. We’ll none of us be short of company, sweetheart.’ For her own good reasons, Elizabeth had refused him when he’d offered to marry her; perhaps she thought it was too late, or perhaps she knew how he and Tilly felt about each other. Elizabeth never gave her reason. She was content enough just for him to stay at the house, to have him close for as long as possible.
Looking at her father now, Beth wondered if he would ever really get over losing his only son in such a way, though he had told her: ‘I lost Ben many years ago. He was always his mother’s boy.’ As for Beth herself, she had done her grieving and now she must look to the future.
It was time to go. ‘Look after your baby sister,’ Tyler told his son, bending to clasp his small shoulders. ‘A week will go quickly and then Mammy’ll be home again.’
‘I will,’ Richard declared, flinging his arms round Tyler’s neck and hugging him tight. Turning his attention to Beth, he clung to her, promising. ‘And I’ll look after Cissie and all, because she’s the one who gets into trouble, Mammy.’ Grinning, he glanced at Cissie then ran away, screeching and hollering with delight when she promptly chased after him.
Taking her small daughter in her arms, Beth held the tiny face close to hers. ‘Be a good girl, Maisie,’ she whispered. There was no other name she could have called the girl-child. Then, handing the tiny bundle back to Tilly, she looked into that dear lady’s quiet eyes and in a low murmur, said, ‘You’re a good woman, Tilly. I know you don’t begrudge them this time together. But your turn will come.’
Tilly was surprised at Beth’s words, for she truly believed that no one knew of her love for Richard. Smiling gently, she whispered, ‘Bless you, Beth… you know I love them both.’
‘I know,’ Beth went to embrace Elizabeth. ‘Keep well, darling,’ she said.
‘God go with you, Beth.’ Elizabeth held out her hand for Richard to hold, and he did so with great tenderness, his soft brown eyes looking to Tilly. Knowing how she loved him, he was content to wait. Like Beth, he knew their time would come, and it was right that it should be so.
When the farewells were said and the carriage pulled away, Tyler and Beth strained their necks to wave to the well-wishers, until they were only specks in the distance. ‘At last, Mrs Blacklock,’ he smiled teasingly, ‘I have you all to myself.’
Beth’s answer was to reach up, wind her arms round his neck and blatantly kiss him, content afterwards to nestle in his arms, his warm manly smell of him overwhelming her senses. Tyler had rented a cottage in Dorset. It would be Heaven on earth, he told her.
She shifted in his arms and gazed up into his face, such a strong, handsome face. ‘Heaven on earth,’ he had said. That was exactly how she felt; as though she was in Heaven on earth. From the corner of her eye she peeped out of the carriage window at the quiet sky, and a prayer of gratitude murmured in her joyous heart.
In her mind’s eye she saw Maisie, arm in arm with her fellow and her mischievous grin as broad and warm as ever. Beth smiled to herself. It would be nice to think that Maisie, also, had found her own little Heaven.
First published in Great Britain in 1992 by Headline Book Publishing PLC
This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2019 by
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
57 Shepherds Lane
Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © Josephine Cox, 1992
The moral right of Josephine Cox to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788632980
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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