by Gracie Hart
‘Time’s bloody money lad and what I’ve got say will not wait a minute longer.’ Edmund leaned back in his chair and hinted for William to find his clerk a job outside the office walls.
‘Turner, just go and see if I’ve left the correspondence for the latest delivery of bails down in the warehouse. I don’t seem to have it on me.’ William felt his pockets, knowing full well it was within his inside pocket.
‘Yes, sir.’ The clerk left his desk, looking relieved that he was not going to have to sit and endure a family dispute.
‘Now, what is it? You look as if you have a mouthful of wasps. Is it money? Surely you’ve not spent what I lent you already?’ William sat back in his chair and looked at his father’s red-and purple-coloured cheeks and noticed him pull the face he had seen many a time when he was going to raise his temper.
‘It’s nowt to do with brass. I’ve heard that you are the talk of Leeds, been seen a time or two with one of those bloody Wild hussies,’ Edmund spluttered. ‘It’s not enough that our Grace hasn’t the sense she was born with, but I didn’t expect anything else seeing she’s a lass. But you, cavorting about with a woman who is no better than a whore, while your wife’s at home and you supposed to be the pillar of respectability.’
‘So what if I have been seen out and about with Mary-Anne? It’s nobody’s business but mine, and you’re definitely in no position to comment.’
‘Don’t you lecture me, lad. When it comes to having a little pleasure, at least I’m discreet. I don’t flaunt them at the music hall or in broad daylight and let everyone know what I’m about. A man has to have a distraction, but discreetly and preferably not with a penniless tart.’ Edmund puffed and caught his breath.
‘She’s not penniless, nor a tart. She’s recently widowed and lives up near Speakers’ Corner. She’s rich, Father, and beautiful, and provides me with a distraction from the poor wizened thing that waits for me at home. God knows I was lost until I met her again, I always did think she was the one for me.’ William paced back and forward in his office, wondering just why his father was complaining this time – after all, he’d never said anything about his other transgressions, of which he was sure he had known about.
‘You don’t go near her, do you hear! She’s rotten to the core, just like her mother,’ Edmund blurted.
‘Her mother? How do you know about her mother? Was she one of your fancies, or worse than that?’ William turned and glared at his father. ‘If my mother knew half of what I hear and know about you, she would leave you and be better off for doing so. You are a dirty manipulative man, who has used women all your life.’ William stood in front of his father and watched the rage in his eyes. ‘Who are you to lecture me?’
‘You leave your mother out of this. And, aye, I poked Sarah Parker, just like I did her daughter, the one that you are so keen on showing off around Leeds. Why don’t you ask her how you compare to your father? I’m sure she will remember the night I took her, more ways than one, at my club. She was such an innocent young thing then, and a virgin. Stop calling the kettle black, William, and look at yourself. There’s nowhere you’ve been that I haven’t been there before you, including Mary-Anne Wild. I’m trying to protect you from such a reckless life, it does nowt for you in the long run. Keep your dick and your nose clean, especially when it comes to that tart.’
‘Get out, get out of my office. I never want to see your face again. How could you take pleasure in ruining my life and gloating over a past conquest? I’m your son, or do you want to forget that as I do at this moment?’ William glared at his father.
Edmund pushed his chair back. ‘You always were bloody stupid,’ he shouted. ‘That can be easily arranged. Don’t expect me to leave you a penny of inheritance, I will leave it to George. He is twice the man you are.’ He went to the office door and held his hand over the handle.
‘Don’t make me laugh, Father. What money will you have left in any case? And your precious George prefers the Molly house to the pit. He’s more precious than any woman.’ William leaned back and watched as his father slammed the glass-panelled door behind him, nearly shattering the glass with the slam that put an end to the relationship between father and son.
William sat back in his chair and fumed at his father’s admissions. So, that was why his father hated the Wild family, they knew his dirty secrets. How many times had he taken Mary-Anne’s mother, and had Mary-Anne gone with him more than once, and was it of her own free will? He would find out, but for all his father’s warnings, it would not dissuade him from pursuing Mary-Anne Vasey. He would speak to her and find out if it was the truth he was ranting. He regretted the things that he had said about his younger brother. George was George, and he should not have told his secret to his father. George had never done anything against him and now he was sorry for his words said in haste, which would have huge consequences on how his father treated his youngest son.
Chapter 27
‘It’s all your bloody fault. Whenever I was laying the law down to our bloody family, you were undermining me. Pampering them and seeing to their every need. No wonder our George is the way he is, he’s always hiding behind your skirts.’ Edmund Ellershaw paced the floor in the study at Highfield House. He’d returned home from his meeting with William in a foul mood and was looking for someone to blame for his ruined family.
‘And, I suppose, none of this is your fault,’ Catherine Ellershaw spat back. ‘You, you’d like me to believe, are entirely blameless. After all, you are the pillar of society, with your charitable ways and treatment of your staff, and don’t get me started on your understanding of the women of the world. You have few or no morals, Edmund Ellershaw, so don’t you preach to me about our children. It is my love and hard work with them that make them as fit for genteel society as they are.’ She would not be blamed for her husband’s shortfalls.
‘Bollocks! Fit for genteel society! Grace thinks herself as good as a man when it comes to her business. And she never even looks at a man. William, well, he’s always been a bastard, and now I find out George is a faggot. I should have realised, I’ve been bloody blind.’ Edmund sat down. He heart was beating fast and his head was pounding with rage and the upset of suddenly realising his world was falling apart.
‘And who have you to blame for all this? Yourself, Edmund Ellershaw. Look to yourself. None of your children have any respect for you, all they see is a dirty old letcher who uses and abuses people for his own good. At least my children do have a caring side – especially Grace, you can’t say you are not proud of her. She has made more of the money given to her by her grandfather than you ever would. George can’t help being what he is, he’s a sensitive soul. William is a thriving businessman, though unfortunately I know that he does share some of your traits. Perhaps that is why you dislike him so much. He’s a threat to you, and he has money, unlike you.’ Catherine flashed her eyes at him and stared at her husband while he caught his breath. ‘Go and apologise to William, you need him, he’s your son.’
‘Never!’ Edmund jumped to his feet. ‘He can rot in hell.’ Edmund clenched his fists and stared at his wife before stomping out of the study. ‘I’ll never speak to him again and he’s not to be made welcome in this house. Understand?’
Catherine stood at the fireplace and sobbed. She used to love her husband, but that was when she was ignorant about his ways, but of late he had tested her to her limit and her love for him was nearly dead. The pity shown on her close friends’ faces for her plight made her uneasy in her friendships with them; it was as if everyone knew of the things she had to endure. Her tears suddenly stopped as she heard a thump coming from the hallway and a groan of a body in pain.
‘Edmund, Edmund are you all right?’ Catherine rushed to the hallway to find her husband slumped on the tiled floor way, unable to talk and move. His body seemed paralysed, his face distorted, and there was panic in his eyes.
‘Help!’ she shouted. ‘Someone help me! Edmund has collapsed.’
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sp; Dr Greaves stood over Edmund Ellershaw in his bed and looked at his distraught wife, while he checked his pulse one more time. ‘I’m afraid he’s suffered a stroke. I’ve warned him on numerous occasions that he was not doing his body any good with his drinking and excesses. I think he still thought himself a young man, but I’m afraid time catches up with us all.’ The doctor placed Edmund’s hand back under the bed covers and shook his head. ‘The next twenty-four hours will let us know if he is to stay in the land of the living or depart this good earth.’
Catherine Ellershaw sobbed and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her slumbering husband. ‘I’m sorry, Edmund, I’m sorry we argued over our children. Please don’t leave me, we didn’t mean the things we said to one another.’ She looked up at the doctor for assurance but he could not give her any.
‘It’s out of my hands, I’m afraid. The good Lord will do what he wants; I can do no more for him.’ The doctor closed his Gladstone bag and stopped at the doorway. ‘If he worsens, send for me. I’ll come straight away. But for now I’ll leave him to sleep, rest is what he needs. That and to be kept away from alcohol. He’s drunk far too much over the years. Good day, Mrs Ellershaw.’
Catherine might sometimes despair of her husband and his morals, but deep down she still cared for him. Besides, she needed him. She hadn’t a clue on how to manage the pit and keep the house affairs, he had always done that.
The bedroom door opened quickly. ‘Mother, Agnes just told me now, when she took my coat. I’d have come home earlier if I’d had realised that father was ill.’ George rushed to his mother’s side. ‘How is he?’
‘Not good. The doctor says the next twenty-four hours will see if we are to keep him with us.’ Catherine paused, she had to ask George if what his father had been told was true. ‘He had a row with William and got himself worked up over it. Is it true what William told him? That you are not drawn to the fairer sex, that you prefer men? I always thought that you were a sensitive child but I never thought that of you.’
‘Is that what William told him? He had no right. I don’t say anything about where he goes and what he does. The bastard. He hates everybody and loves to make bother for me.’ George glanced quickly at his father as he let out a low groan. ‘I don’t judge anybody else, so why should anyone judge me?’
‘George, it doesn’t matter to me whom you prefer, but I’m afraid your father was more than disturbed. You know what he’s like. You will always be my son, no matter what your preferences, but I’m afraid your father will never understand. That is, if we are lucky enough to keep him in this world. Now, can you tell one of the servants to inform Grace of her father’s illness, and William too. Never mind that your father has made him unwelcome in our home after his row over you.’
Edmund grunted to show his annoyance at Catherine’s request. Even though the doctor had given him laudanum he could still hear and show his anger at his wife’s actions.
Catherine reconsidered. ‘Perhaps not William, but definitely Grace. She’s visiting Jessica Bentley at Eshald Mansion today, they will find her there. She had gone to discuss their dresses for the Guild Ball.’ Catherine sighed and patted her husband’s hand under the bedclothes. ‘This year, I’m afraid, we will not be attending my dear. Perhaps next, if we are lucky.’ She held back the tears and watched as George made for the door. ‘Could you go to the Rose Pit and inform the manager there? I’ve heard your father mention a Tom Thackeray. I suppose they will have to know, I don’t know the first thing about mining. How I wish you had shown more interest, George. The pit would not be a problem then. Anyway, we will take each problem as it presents itself. The main thing is to nurse your father back to health.’
She watched George close the door behind him. How she was going to manage everything she didn’t know, and how she regretted her words said in anger, but it would seem that William was right by the shame that she had seen on George’s face and his anger at his brother.
‘You. Are you Tom Thackeray?’ George walked into the yard of the Rose Pit and looked around him with disdain at the dirt and roughness of the pit. The man he was shouting at was telling some miners to move some coal buckets out of the way of the upcoming cage.
‘Aye, that I am. What can I do for you? Aren’t you Mr Ellershaw’s son?’
‘I am indeed. I need to speak to you with some urgency and in private.’ George indicated his wish to speak in the wooden office out of the way out of prying ears and eyes.
‘Tha looks worried. Is anything amiss, Master George? We’ve not seen your father today, which is unusual.’ Tom walked across the yard with George and opened the door into the office.
‘You’ll not be seeing him for some time. He was taken ill this morning. The doctor says he’s had a stroke. My mother is with him at home, but he’s in bed and can’t speak.’
‘That’s a bugger, I’m sorry to hear that. You mother and your family must be worried sick. If there’s anything I can do just say. What do you want to do with the Rose? You surely can’t close her, we employ fifty local men, and they can’t be without their wages.’ Tom’s first thought was what Edmund’s health issues would have on the pit and he hoped that his family would think the same. As for Ellershaw himself, well, he’d seen his demise coming for some time. No man could live the kind of life he had and not suffer the consequences.
‘What are their concerns to me? If I had my way, the whole lot would be up for sale and the men laid off. However, while my father is ill and until we know how bad he is, we should keep the mine open. Would you be in agreement to being placed in authority and ensure its running until a decision has been made about its future?’ George sat back on the edge of the desk and looked at the man he’d heard his father complain a bucketful about. He’d also grudgingly admitted that he was a godsend when it came to handling the workers, though. ‘I take it that you can keep good accounts? I’d want to see them each month.’
‘You assume right. I have a good head for figures and I know how the pit works like the back of my hand.’ Tom knew an opportunity when it came his way.
‘Right, take charge. If you need to spend any money that you can’t make through the pit, let me know. Otherwise, I will be in touch weekly. And keep your fingers out of the till, Thackeray, I will be watching you like a hawk.’ George stood up, not even bothering to look at the account books or to request a tour around the pit. He wasn’t bothered by the Rose and its workers, but he knew he had to do his duty while his father was ill or until it could be sold. In another few months, George would come into his grandfather’s inheritance and then he had no worries. It would be best all round if the pit went up for sale. Which would be the first thing that he would do on his father’s death.
‘Yes, Master George … sir, it would be an honour. I’ll do my best.’ Tom tugged on his cap and looked down at the wooden floorboards of the office.
‘I know you will, Thackeray, else I’ll have something to say about it.’ George brushed his gloved hands that had a covering of coal dust on them from just leaning on the desk. ‘This place is filthy. How anyone can enjoy running this place, I don’t understand. We will come to an arrangement regarding a rise in pay when you have proved your worth.’ He glared at Tom before leaving him standing shocked by how little care that George had shown for the pit and indeed his father.
Tom looked around the cluttered pit office and couldn’t help but grin. He was in charge of the Rose, he was his own boss! He walked around to the back of the desk that Edmund Ellershaw always sat at and rubbed his hand over his seat. Nobody had ever dared sit in the chair, it was old Ellershaw’s and was almost like a holy shrine. He pulled the leather-backed chair out, sat down in it quickly, looked around his domain and laughed to himself. He soon sobered up when he remembered that Edmund Ellershaw was at death’s door. How could he feel so happy about someone else’s misfortune? Still, it would be good to be in charge until either Ellershaw came back or the pit was sold. Either way, he’d make the most of it. He coul
dn’t wait to tell Eliza when he saw her later that evening. Hopefully, with this responsibility, he would show her that he was equal to her in business and a good catch, with no mother to interfere with their courtship this time.
Victoria looked at herself in the long mirror in her bedroom and caught her breath. Eliza had just unwrapped the dress that she had lovingly made for her niece to wear at the Guild Ball and was admiring the beauty of her own workmanship while Victoria stood beaming at her reflection as she stood the perfect model for the frivolous dress.
‘Just perfect, Victoria, you will be the belle of the ball. No one on that dance floor will shine as bright as you.’ Eliza titivated the skirts and sleeves and glowed with pride at her skills as both a parent and seamstress. ‘In a few years, the eligible young men of the district will not be able to take their eyes off you. I used to dream of having a dress like this and attending balls to find my Prince Charming. He will be out there one day, Victoria, a perfect man just for you.’ Eliza kissed her niece on the cheek and whispered, ‘I love you, my dear.’
‘You don’t think I look too much like Grace, do you? She likes purple and now I know that we have the same father I can see we share some of the same features.’ Victoria sighed.
‘No, it’s just that you are both blessed with thick dark hair and purple brings the best of it out. Besides, you are far younger and far more beautiful, so don’t you worry about anyone linking you with the Ellershaws. Grace will be there along with George, although I don’t think either of them will be looking for a sweetheart, do you?’ Eliza smiled.
‘I don’t know, there could be a good-looking young man for George. He could be the scandal of the ball,’ Victoria teased. ‘Are you sure that you still want to take me to the ball? I can wait until I’m older. I couldn’t help but notice that your old friend Tom has brought a look of happiness to you, and the poor post-boy is run off his feet going back and forward with your notes that you send one another.’ Victoria was happy for her aunt. Since Tom had visited her, she had heard her singing to herself and quickly checking her looks every so often in the mirror.