The Mistress of Windfell Manor

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The Mistress of Windfell Manor Page 29

by Diane Allen


  ‘Too true, ma’am, and don’t you forget it.’

  Charlotte looked at the note that bore Archie’s sprawling handwriting upon it. It looked as if a wounded spider had limped across the page. Handwriting had never been his strongest point, she mused. She read the invitation again and smiled. She couldn’t think of anything better than spending Christmas back at Crummock; it would be a welcome break for two days. She’d reply straight away.

  Her mind wandered back in time to when Christmases at Crummock were filled with folk visiting, frivolity, food and laughter. Would those days ever return? Would she ever have Christmases like those, here at Windfell? She did love Windfell, but she still thought of Crummock as her true home. She quickly wrote her reply and sealed it lovingly, leaving it in the post box on the hallway table before climbing the stairs to her bed. Every day had been hard work lately and, as far as she could see, every day in the future was going to be hard work. Where had the carefree days of her youth gone? Thanks to Joseph Dawson, she’d grown up quickly, and she never wanted the same for her Isabelle.

  ‘Goodnight, ma’am,’ said Yates as she dragged her feet up the sweeping stairs.

  ‘Goodnight, Yates. See you in the morning.’ How she wished she could return to her old life, where she didn’t have to stand on ceremony and she could disappear into her own little world without anyone judging her.

  The mill’s mighty water wheel ceased to turn and the tall chimney stopped its belching of steam as the looms and machines of Ferndale stopped for a two-day celebration for Christmas.

  ‘God bless you, ma’am. Happy Christmas.’ Charlotte watched as, one by one, her mill workers filed out of the mill gates, doffing their hats to her and then nearly running home as the sun began to set in the heavy grey sky of Christmas Eve.

  ‘Merry Christmas, everyone.’ Charlotte wrapped her shawl around her and shivered on the steps of the warehouse. Would she be saying those words at this time next year, or would the mill and the workers have disappeared into oblivion by then? She smiled quietly to herself. She’d come a long way in these last few months. Even Bert had said she was a quick learner, before adding sarcastically ‘for a woman’. Good old Bert, she’d not have managed any of it without him. She watched as he locked the engine pump room and made safe the outbuildings, before nearly running over to her.

  ‘All’s made safe for the holiday, and we’ll be up and running again as soon as Christmas is over, ma’am.’ He blew on his ungloved hands and looked up at Charlotte. ‘I’ll be off now, if that’s alright with you, ma’am. My old missus will be waiting.’

  ‘Actually, Bert, I need to have words with you. Would you mind stepping inside the warehouse for a minute?’ Charlotte’s face was stern and she tried to hide a smirk as she saw Bert’s disappointment when he realized he was not going to be able to make good his escape.

  ‘But, ma’am . . .’

  ‘Quiet! I need you to come in here.’ Charlotte stepped into the warehouse and reached over to the hook where his Christmas treat hung. ‘Happy Christmas, Bert. This should keep your family fed, and make your mother-in-law content.’ She could barely lift the huge white goose that she had been hiding all day, as she lifted it from its hook and passed it to the dumbstruck overseer. ‘It’s a thank-you from me, for all your help. I’d not have managed without you.’ She watched as the goose’s bright-orange beak hung over Bert’s shoulder, while he struggled to take his cap off in thanks.

  ‘I don’t know what to say, ma’am, but thank you. That puts our shoulder of mutton to shame. My old lass will be over the moon. You shouldn’t have – you’ll need your money,’ he rambled on.

  ‘Just go home, Bert, and enjoy your two days of peace because, believe me, I’ll need you more than ever next year.’ Charlotte smiled as she watched her loyal employee struggle to carry his prize home over the cobbles. He was good man. As he disappeared out of the yard, she locked the warehouse door and stood all alone in the yard, looking up and around at the huge buildings of Ferndale Mill. They stood silent against the background noise of the rushing River Ribble. God willing, the mill and her workers would still be going next Christmas. If not, well, there was always Crummock for her to escape to, if the going got too tough.

  She walked steadily along the mill path, her mind now racing as she thought about getting baby Isabelle and herself ready for two days back at her beloved Crummock. Christmas with Mrs Cranston, Archie and Daniel was going to be a delight, but how she wished her father was still alive. How she missed his jovial spirit and his love. He’d rarely said that he loved her, but he never had any need to; she knew he had loved her, and she him.

  Lost in her thoughts, she soon arrived back at Windfell to find her staff awaiting her return, as Lily, Mazy and Mrs Batty stood in the hallway wanting to wish her a happy Christmas before they returned to their families while the manor was empty. Yates had decided to remain at the manor, having nowhere else to go, but Mazy had insisted that he join her family for Christmas dinner, so even he had a home of his own that Christmas.

  ‘Have a lovely Christmas, ma’am,’ all three of her staff cheered as she entered the hallway.

  Charlotte unwrapped her shawl and smiled at them all. ‘Happy Christmas, everyone. Did Yates give you my presents? I’m sorry I’m a little later returning than planned. Thank you for waiting for me.’ She looked at all the excited faces surrounding her.

  ‘Yes, ma’am. Thank you very much, ma’am,’ they all chorused.

  ‘Well, go on then, get yourselves home. I know you can’t wait. Mazy, before you go, is Isabelle changed, and have you prepared everything we will need for our days away up at Crummock?’ Charlotte watched as the three women she had grown to respect scurried about the hall, trying to be polite, but wanting to get back to their own homes and families. Mazy hung back, knowing that her duty lay with baby Isabelle.

  ‘Yes, ma’am. Her things are packed, and Mr Atkinson is waiting for you in the drawing room. He insisted that he nursed her until you returned.’ Mazy blushed.

  ‘Thank you, Mazy. Have a good Christmas, and thank you for inviting Yates to your home at Christmas. I wouldn’t have wanted him to be on his own in the manor then.’

  ‘It’s nothing, ma’am. My mother said another mouth to feed was no problem at Christmas, especially now I’m bringing good money home.’ Mazy smiled and put her bonnet on hurriedly.

  ‘Have a good Christmas. I’ll enjoy every minute with Isabelle – it will be pure indulgence.’ Charlotte watched as her nanny quickly made for the kitchen, before walking into the drawing room, where Archie sat burbling to Isabelle. She smiled as she remembered doubting Lily’s recommendation of Mazy; she couldn’t have wished for a better nanny.

  ‘Ah, Lottie, Isabelle and I were just getting to know one another. I was telling her I’m her Uncle Archie. An Uncle Archie who brings her mother money, as we made a pretty penny with our lamb sales this year.’ He balanced Isabelle in between his arm and lap and reached into his pocket for a handful of notes. ‘Happy Christmas, Lottie. This will help you and your mill. I’ve included my rent for the coming year in that, as well.’

  Charlotte looked at the bundle of notes that Archie handed her. ‘You can’t have made all this, surely – you’ve got it wrong?’

  ‘Nay, I’ve just watched what we’ve spent and we had a good lambing, as I told you earlier on. Your Uncle Archie’s not that daft, is he now, Isabelle?’ He tickled the contented baby under her chin and smiled down as she gurgled. ‘But enough talk of brass, let’s be away. Jethro’s offered to take us up to Crummock in your carriage. I’ve tied my horse to it at the back and it will be getting bored. Yates has loaded everything you need, so all you’ve got to do is wish him a happy Christmas and we will be off.’

  ‘But I’ve things to do. I can’t just walk out of here.’ Charlotte looked around her, still holding the money in her hand.

  ‘You’ve nothing to do. Go and make safe that brass and let’s be away. Aunt Lucy has a roast ham awaiting yo
u, and I’ve been told not to dally.’ Archie stood up and wrapped the shawl left by Mazy around Isabelle, then grinned at Charlotte. ‘Come on, lass, get a move on; for once you are not in charge. It’s only two days. The world’s not going to end, without you giving orders. Come home and let us all look after you.’ He walked to the doorway and waited as Charlotte locked her money in the desk in the morning room, then grabbed the bonnet that had been left in the hallway for her.

  ‘Have a good Christmas, ma’am. Don’t worry, I will look after the manor for you.’ Yates appeared as if by magic out of the kitchen. ‘You just enjoy the company you are with, and try and forget what a horrific year we have all had.’

  ‘I will, Yates, and thank you for your support. I’d be lost without you.’ Charlotte smiled as he held the door open for her.

  ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t, ma’am, but we would be lost without you. I look forward to your return.’ Yates smiled, remembering the young woman he had first talked to, and how she was now a lady who was to be respected.

  ‘I look forward to returning too, Yates, and I have a feeling that next year – no matter what is thrown at us – we will survive. Of that I’m sure.’

  Assisted by Archie, she climbed into the carriage. Nursing Isabelle, she looked out of the window as the carriage made its way down the drive of Windfell.

  Windfell, the manor she owned, along with Ferndale Mill. And now she was going home to Crummock, to spend Christmas with people she loved. The new year might bring fresh hardships and more worries, but she’d face them with new confidence and determination. Joseph Dawson had taught her a lot; if you treat people right, they’ll be right with you. She smiled across at Archie as he patted her knee, seeing that she was near tears.

  ‘Are you alright, Lottie?’

  ‘I’m fine, Archie. I’m going home for Christmas, and I can’t wait.’

  For the Sake of Her Family

  DIANE ALLEN

  It’s 1912 in the Yorkshire Dales, and Alice Bentham and her brother Will have lost their mother to cancer. Money is scarce and pride doesn’t pay the doctor or put food on the table.

  Alice gets work at Whernside Manor, looking after Lord Frankland’s fragile sister Miss Nancy. Meanwhile Will and his best friend Jack begin working for the Lord of the Manor at the marble mill. But their purpose there is not an entirely honest one.

  For a while everything runs smoothly, but corruption, attempted murder and misplaced love are just waiting in the wings. Nothing is as it seems and before they know it, Alice and Will’s lives are entwined with those of the Franklands’ – and nothing will ever be the same again.

  OUT NOW

  For a Mother’s Sins

  DIANE ALLEN

  It is 1870 and railway workers and their families have flocked to the wild and inhospitable moorland known as Batty Green. Here they are building a viaduct on the Midland Railway Company’s ambitious new Leeds to Carlisle line.

  Among them are three very different women – tough widow Molly Mason, honest and God-fearing Rose Pratt, and Helen Parker, downtrodden by her husband and seeking a better life.

  When tragedy strikes, the lives of the three women are bound together, and each is forced to confront the secrets and calamities that threaten to tear their families apart.

  OUT NOW

  For a Father’s Pride

  DIANE ALLEN

  In 1871, young Daisy Fraser is living in the Yorkshire Dales with her beloved family. Her sister Kitty is set to marry the handsome and wealthy Clifford Middleton. But on the eve of the wedding, Clifford commits a terrible act that shatters Daisy’s happy life. She carries her secret for the next nine months, but is left devastated when she gives birth and the baby is pronounced dead. Soon she is cast out by her family and has no choice but to make her own way in the world.

  When further tragedy strikes, Daisy sets out for the bustling streets of Leeds. There, she encounters poverty and hardship, but also friendship. What she really longs for is a love of her own. Yet Daisy doesn’t realize that the key to her happiness may not be as far away as she thinks . . .

  OUT NOW

  Like Father, Like Son

  DIANE ALLEN

  From birth, Polly Harper seems destined for tragedy. Raised by her loving grandparents on Paradise Farm, she is unknowingly tangled in a web of secrecy regarding her parentage.

  When she falls in love with Tobias, the wealthy son of a local landowner of disrepute, her anxious grandparents send her to work in a dairy. There she becomes instantly drawn to the handsome Matt Dinsdale, propelling her further into the depths of forbidden romance and dark family secrets.

  But when tragedy strikes, Polly is forced to confront her past and decide the fate of her future. Will she lose everything, or will she finally realize that her roots and love lie in Paradise?

  OUT NOW

 

 

 


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