by Gracie Hart
‘An actress or a singer, may I enquire? I am honoured to make your acquaintance whichever, Mrs Vasey.’ Mark shook her hand gently and looked at her with admiration and excitement.
‘Both. I’ve just left Broadway, where I’ve been appearing for the last few years and now I’m happy to be playing a new role in Leeds at the new venue there. It might be a bit of a disappointment after the bright lights of Broadway but it fits in nicely with my plans as I aim to visit my sister there. She’s the only family I have left after losing my dear husband. But please, let us not stand on ceremony, so please feel free to call me Mary-Anne, all my best friends do. And I am sure we will become very good friends by the time we have reached Liverpool.’ Mary-Anne flashed a smile and thought how good it was to be leaving the old Mary-Anne Wild behind in America.
‘Well, Mrs Vasey, perhaps you would like to join me in a drink down below and, if you are agreeable, then we could have dinner together later this evening.’ Mark held out his hand for her to take.
‘Now, Mr Ashwell, you are forgetting, it is Mary-Anne, none of this Mrs Vasey, and a drink would be delightful.’ Mary-Anne grinned to herself, knowing that with her new-found friend and his well-padded wallet she would be likely to have a protector on the voyage and a full belly, all for the price of playing on his vanity and ego. Then, once in Liverpool, she would make her excuses and leave, and hopefully never see him again.
‘Mary-Anne it is.’ Mark held her hand tightly as they walked along the deck and down to the lounge bar below. ‘I do believe I am going to enjoy this passage for once.’
‘I’m sure you will, Mark, it will be one to remember if nothing else.’ Mary-Anne smiled as her new-found friend snapped his fingers for them to be served with a drink as they sat down in the first-class lounge.
‘To a smooth passage.’ Mark raised his glass of champagne and toasted Mary-Anne, smiling across at her.
‘And to new friends.’ Mary-Anne took a sip of her wine and looked at him with a smile.
She’d started as she meant to go on, she thought to herself, sitting among the well-to-do people drinking and talking within the palm-filled lounge of the Oceanic. This was the life she had hoped for in New York but never had secured – and even if it was just until the ship reached Liverpool she would enjoy it. She would string Mark Ashwell along as best she could for the voyage and then make herself scarce once they docked and make her way home the only way she knew how, by canal barge.
Chapter 5
Levensthorpe Hall, Near Leeds
‘Just look at yourself, what a disgrace. To think that I once only had eyes for you. I must have been blind.’ William Ellershaw looked at his once beautiful wife, who was crying at the thought of having to attend dinner at Eshald Mansion, and shook his head in disgust. William was worn down by his marriage. He had landed on his feet when he had married Priscilla Eavesham, but he’d little suspected how spoilt she was. She had been ruined by her parents’ over-indulgence and he was bearing the brunt of it.
‘I can’t help it, William. Nothing I do seems to be right for you, no matter how I try. Please, let me stay at home. I know I would only embarrass you with my presence, you are better off going alone.’
Priscilla sobbed into her handkerchief. She was fully aware of how her husband felt about her these days. He stood tall and proud before her, looking every inch the gentleman, and he clearly hated the simpering wreck that she had become. But she couldn’t help the dark thoughts that were growing ever more stronger within her mind.
‘Please tell Jessica that I’m sorry, I am a little unwell today, and that I hope to have tea with her as usual next week in Woodlesford.’
She looked up at her dark scowling husband. He could be a cruel man, sharp with his tongue and uncaring when it came to her feelings. Now she wished that she had never married him. His grandfather had only been after her family home and the status that went with it when he had persuaded William to ask for her hand in marriage. For the first year or so, things had been bearable – not good, but he had been kinder then. Only after it had become increasingly likely that she would never be able to give him an heir did things go very bad very quickly and now, years after losing the last child she would ever carry, she hated him as much as he hated her.
‘I suppose you want to take that blasted nerve tonic? It is that I believe that is turning you into the witless soul that you have become, but then again you never did have much charm or intelligence. If I’m to progress further in society, perhaps it is best if you no longer join me at these events. I’m always in fear of what you might say or do.’ William turned to the window and watched the rain. It was a dark day and it matched his mood well. He was tired of being tied to such a dimwit shrew-like wife, and he needed more in his life.
‘I shall, with your permission, retire to my room. I am sorry that I am a disappointment to you, William. Dr Reed says the morphine within the tonic calms my nerves and I do find it beneficial, despite what you say.’ Priscilla rose from her seat with as much dignity as she could muster and looked at her husband’s back as he stared out the window. ‘I take it that I will not see you later? That you will be confining yourself to your quarters?’
Priscilla stood like a delicate doll in front of her husband and waited for his reply. Since her parents had moved out of the hall, William had shown little interest in her and nights where they shared a bed were few and far between. He only came to her as a last resort, when he had not been able to satisfy his sexual appetite with his mistress who she knew he kept in relative luxury in her own home on the other side of Leeds.
‘You think right, my dear. What is the use of coming to bed with someone who has long since lost any love or passion for me?’
William noted Priscilla was not shocked by his words. She did not love him any more, he knew that for sure. Had she ever loved him? He doubted that she ever had. She no longer seemed to care that he too mourned their lack of children. He wondered if she realised that he had been forced into their marriage as much as she had.
‘Well, at least that means I will not have to put up with the tortures that you would have me endure. She is welcome to you, William, and I hope you pay her well for her troubles.’
Priscilla held her handkerchief to her mouth and fought back another round of tears as she fled the room. She might not love him but his words still hurt her. Her husband was a cad and she hoped that one day he would rot in hell for what he had done to her and her family.
‘Is Priscilla not with you this evening? I was so looking forward to her company,’ Jessica Bentley enquired as her father bade William sit next to him at the dinner table.
‘Alas, no. She sends her apologies, but I’m afraid she is quite bad with her nerves at the moment and I am quite concerned for her well-being.’ William, watching carefully his fellow guests’ faces, made an effort to seem every inch the concerned husband.
Timothy Bentley leaned back in his chair. ‘The curse of our womenfolk is a nervous disposition. Frail creatures they are. You must take care of her, young William.’
‘She says she will meet you for tea next week in Woodlesford, Jessica, and that she is looking forward to catching up on all the news.’
William smiled at Miss Bentley. Perhaps she was the one he should have married. But, for all his strife at home, life with Jessica would not have been as easy as life with Priscilla. Jessica did not suffer fools gladly and she would not have put up with his ways for long.
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ The servants came in with soup, and Jessica leant back in her chair as it was placed in front of her. ‘Your sister Grace will be joining us as well. We hope to indulge in some of that exquisite Victoria sandwich cake that the tea shop now makes. It truly is quite scrumptious.’ Jessica took a sip of her soup.
‘I’m surprised Grace has the time to join you, she seems to be always involved in some hare-brained scheme of sorts. I’m sure my father must despair of her sometimes.’ William patted his lips with his napkin and p
ushed his soup aside.
‘They are definitely not hare-brained. Why, she and that girl of hers are building up quite a good reputation in their shop in Leeds. They have quite a wealthy clientele, lots of ladies with very good connections. I keep trying to convince Priscilla that she must visit one day and peruse their latest fashions. Eliza is truly a wonder when it comes to following the latest Parisian designs.’ Jessica looked at William; he never had the time of day for his sister and yet she was forging a name for herself with just the aid of the money left to her by her grandfather.
‘Why she ever got involved with that family, I do not know. Common as muck, they are. Why, I heard that Eliza had a child out of wedlock. She’s nothing but a hussy,’ William scoffed.
‘I think you’ll find that the child was her older sister’s,’ Jessica retorted. ‘She left her with Eliza when she emigrated to America. She was supposed to return and take the child back with her, but so far has not fulfilled her promise.’
‘Aye, well, whose ever it was, I bet neither one of them could name the father. Wild by name and by nature they are, and their mother not much better from what I heard tell. Can you not remember when the older of the two joined us for tea once? All the social graces of a sailor. She didn’t know what to say and how to act and was just hard work.’ William laughed.
‘If I remember correctly, she caught your eye.’ Jessica said with a wicked smile, enjoying his discomfort. ‘Poor Priscilla was beside herself that day, thinking that your head had been turned.’ Jessica regarded William as she took a long drink from her claret glass. She cared not for William Ellershaw. All the money in the world wouldn’t make him a gentleman and she knew he badly he treated her friend Priscilla.
‘It’s a wise child that knows its own father, that is a fact,’ Timothy Bentley interjected, not quite following the under-currents of conversation between his daughter and his guest. ‘Thankfully my dear, there is no doubting that you are mine, we are too similar and your mother up to her death was always faithful to me, of that I’m sure.’ Timothy smiled at his daughter. ‘Now, William, how’s that father of yours? Is the mine doing well? I hear he’s got a man working for him by the name of Tom Thackeray. It means a lot to have a good right-hand man, somebody you can trust.’
‘I try not to get involved with the pit, sir. I put my time into looking after my mills. Since my grandfather’s demise I have very little time for anything else.’ William did not want to get involved with a discussion about his father, it was common knowledge that Rose Pit was on the decline because of his bad management. ‘But I’m sure my father will have hired well, and that along with this Tom Thackeray will be putting every working hour into the smooth running of the pit.’
‘I hear he caught a cold when he bought a pit over near Wakefield. Worked out within six months. A lot of money for nowt, is what I heard.’ Timothy looked seriously at his guest while the soup was cleared away.
‘As I said, sir, I have little involvement in my father’s affairs. I’m afraid we do not have a lot to do with one another at present, but I’m sure he would not have been so foolish.’ William tried to look surprised when in fact he knew that his father had been deceived by a rogue who had conned him into believing that he had been buying a pit of quality, while all the time knowing it to be nearly worthless.
‘Aye, well, it was only gossip. There’s always plenty of that about, as I’m sure you are aware, lad. Now, have you seen my display of oranges on this table? Aren’t they magnificent? I’ve grown them myself, you know, in my orangery. I can grow almost anything in it now I’ve run heating through it. I’ll be keeping your father’s pit open by my bill for coal alone – it takes some feeding does the boiler. You must try one for dessert and let me know what you think.’
Timothy Bentley smiled. He knew what he’d heard was right. Edmund Ellershaw was struggling to keep his head above water. No wonder with the lifestyle he had cultivated over the years, what with his women and his drink, as well as pampering his wife and children to the point of stupidity. It was catching up with him now, and it would seem his eldest had washed his hands clean of him, if the disgust on William’s face was anything to go by.
‘I’m sorry my father questioned you over your father, William, he’s concerned more than anything,’ Jessica said later, when they were saying their farewells after supper. ‘Your father and he used to be such good friends but we have not seen much of your family of late, apart from Grace.’
‘It makes no difference to me. My father has always done what he has wanted to do, regardless of what my views are. My mother, bless her soul, goes along with him to keep the peace but even she is finding it hard since Grandfather died and she no longer has him for guidance. She puts all her time into pampering George, who can do no wrong in her eyes. I have learned to be independent of my parents. I find it best.’ William took his hat from the servant standing near the door.
‘I sometimes think that I am lucky to be the only child, although it can be lonely. And, unlike yourself, I have never found my perfect partner, so I am afraid I will remain an old maid in the eyes of society, when in truth I am happy to look after my dear father, who I love dearly. It suits me as I think myself too outspoken for most men,’ Jessica replied. ‘Please give my love to Prissy. I’m sorry she did not join us this evening. Is she all right? I thought she looked a little frail of late, the poor dear.’
‘Priscilla, I’m afraid, cannot deal with the world at the moment.’ He lowered his voice, aware of the servant opening the door to let the guest leave. ‘I’m sure you are aware that we will not be blessed with children. It weighs heavily on her that she has been told that she cannot carry a child. She talks of nothing else and feels that she is no longer a woman. I find her state of mind hard to accept, the constant mood changes upset me. Things are not good between us.’ William looked at Jessica who had a slight blush on her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry – I’m embarrassing you with my home life. Forgive me, I took advantage of a listening ear and I know that you and Priscilla are close.’
‘Indeed, we are. She tells me most things and I know she is suffering. She is in need of much sympathy. I cannot imagine the grief of losing so many babies, and their deaths must have affected you both greatly. Please give her my love and I will look forward to seeing her next week. I will always be there for her, William, just as I know you are,’ Jessica said as pointedly as she dared with her father in the hall. Both Grace and she knew exactly how Priscilla was hurting, and that the man that stood in front of her did not really care one jot. Instead, he went to his mistress’s arms and threw himself into his work, leaving Priscilla to turn inwards upon herself and become more unwell by the day.
‘I’ll pass on your kind thoughts and thank you once again for a most enjoyable evening. It was a shame Priscilla did not join us. I think we should entertain more often at the Hall, but alas she does not feel up to the stresses that come with entertaining friends.’ William put his head down and made for the doorway. ‘Goodnight, Jessica. Thank you once again.’
Jessica watched from the door as William mounted his horse and quickly pulled on its bridle, disappearing into the darkness. He would not convey her words to Priscilla, of that she was certain. In fact, she knew that he hardly talked to her at all these days and barely acknowledged her presence on this good earth. While he may not have an heir, he’d got everything else he’d wanted since he had inherited all of his grandfather’s wealth and Levensthorpe Hall. Poor Priscilla, she had not realised at the time that she had only been part of a grubby deal that William’s grandfather had put together on his behalf. Now, after losing the one hope that might have united them a little, children, they had truly drifted apart and William had taken himself a lover, which poor Priscilla was all too aware of, despite his feeble attempts at discretion. William Ellershaw was to be kept at arm’s length, of that she was sure. And his father was even worse from what she had heard. As long as there were men like the Ellershaws, she would not even look at the m
ale of the race.
‘Why, my William, you are a late caller. Better late than never though, eh, my darling?’ Ruby Bell ran her finger down William’s face as he entered the three-bedroom terraced house he paid for. ‘Your wife not up for it tonight, then?’
William looked at her in disdain. He was growing tired of the woman he kept for sex and sex alone. He’d found her at the theatre – she was a passable actress but lazy with it and while he still found her attractive there was no love in his heart for her. She was there to keep him away from the prostitutes that distracted him as he walked down by the canal wharf. He didn’t want to be tempted by their thick make-up and their breasts nearly falling out of their tight bodices; after all, that was where his father sought his relief. Instead he had taken on a willing mistress and he hoped that behind the closed doors of the well-to-do terrace she kept herself true to him and him alone. He paid her well enough for the privilege.
‘Hold your tongue, when you talk of my wife. Remember she is my wife, whereas you are just bought. I have no patience for tittle-tattle tonight, I have come here for just one thing.’
‘Masterful as ever, my dear.’ Ruby knew he was getting tired of her and that soon he would stop his visits to her and withdraw all his favours and then she would be back trying to make ends back at the music hall. ‘I’ve got your favourite, William. It’s been waiting for you since your last visit, something to relax you.’