The Windsor Girl

by Sylvia Burton

  ‘Oh she's just as beautiful as, ever, Albert. And Will? You should see how he's grown’.

  ‘And your brother?’

  ‘Fine, just fine’.

  Albert noted the look of genuine love in James's eyes, whenever he spoke of Ellie. Not that Albert could blame the lad. Ellie had always been 'someone special', even to him, a hardened publican.

  She had worked for him, behind the bar, for more than a year, all told, and he couldn't fault her. Even when he found out she was 'with child', and her being single. He had made no judgements, but tried to protect her. Come to think of it, Ellie was not a girl you could judge. Not really. It was as if she drew people to her, not just the men, but women too.

  He knew of a few around here who considered her a 'lady of quality', and one, by the name of 'Bet', who insisted she was nothing less than a saint.

  Albert looked around the bar, and said to James, ‘if Ellie was working here now, this place would be 'humming' with business, make no mistake’.

  James smiled at him. ‘No doubt, Albert. No doubt’.

  He ordered another Brandy, and went to sit by the fire.

  ‘Care for a bit of company, Sir?’ The voice was young and had a local accent.

  James looked into the pretty face of a girl about eighteen, or so. Her dark hair, with its long natural curl, could have been attractive if it had been washed and brushed. As it was, tussled and tangled, it tended to spoil the look of the girl but James thought what the hell!

  ‘I'd like, very much, your company, Miss ... ere ..?’

  ‘Just call me Gladys, Sir. And how do I call you?’

  ‘James’, he answered.

  She repeated the name, ‘James? Yes, I like that. I think you look like a James, if you know what I mean’.

  ‘And what does a 'James' look like, may I ask?’

  He was smiling, amused by her game, and quite willing to go along with it. After all, he had nothing better to do.

  ‘Well James, it makes me think of the kind of gentleman who treats a lady to the best drink in the house, then cuddles up, nice and close like, and tells her how lovely he thinks she is’.

  ‘Well, Gladys, it looks as if you have found the 'James' of your dreams, for I am as you describe’.

  Gladys giggled and linked her arm in his, as if to confirm her ownership, of this fine fellow.

  The blue feather, adorning her hat, looked dishevelled, and quite ridiculous, but James was past caring and ordered a bottle of Brandy from Albert.

  On his return to the table with the bottle, Albert gave the girl a warning look, but said nothing to her. He addressed his remarks to James.

  ‘Are you sure about this Sir? Gladys is known, around these parts, and I wouldn't want you to .... ere ...’!

  ‘My Dear Albert, I am old enough to look after my own affairs, so be a good fellow, and leave the bottle’.

  The landlord walked away, shaking his head, and left James pouring two large measures of Brandy, whilst fondling the girl's leg. Gladys was in the process of sticking out her tongue to the, retreating, landlord's back.

  James stayed in the Ale House, until they had finished the whole bottle, with never a thought to the mill; nor the new machinery, nor his family; nor even Ellie.

  It was about ten thirty when they staggered into the dark street. He found it difficult to keep on his feet, and leaned heavily on Gladys for support.

  ‘Come on now Jimmy, show me the way, then I can get you to bed and make all you dreams come true’. She laughed as he lurched against her, attempting to unbutton her blouse.

  ‘Oh no you don't that'll come later when I get you home. All the good things are worth waiting for and I have some good things for you all right. Just wait and see’.

  They walked, with numerous stops, until they reached the bottom of Thornton Avenue. Gladys eyed up the area and thought, I've picked a good one here, and no mistake.

  She squeezed his hand and said, ‘do you live here all on you own then?’

  James murmured, ‘No ... Gladys’, his words hardly coherent, ‘with my ... ere ... mother ... and … my sister …..and’

  ‘Just my bloody luck, this is! Gets myself a nice bloke and he lives with his bloody mother. Well, Jimmy lad, you can't take me in there, can you? Not if you want to have you way with me, eh!?’

  ‘But ... Gladys ... I love ... you’.

  ‘Oh, aye! You love me all right. You can hardly stand up but you want to have what’s in my draws, don't you?’

  She looked about her and noticed, set back a way to the right of her, an entrance to a small park. That would have to do, she thought, I not going to risk being thrown out of a big posh house by somebody’s bloody mother. And if I play my cards right, I can get more than a few brandies from this night’s work.

  Gladys led James to the park and underneath a large shrub.

  ‘It'll be alright here, my darling’, she whispered, as she helped him down onto a carpet of moss. She didn't see the sense of taking off her clothes, after all, he was so ‘far gone’ he wouldn't notice, even if she was 'stark naked'.

  James lunged at her, almost tearing her blouse.

  ‘Hold on Jimmy. Don't rip the bloody thing. I only have the one’.

  ‘I'll buy you...a hundred ... Gladys’, he muttered, drunkenly.

  She unbuttoned the blouse and placed his hands on her large round breasts.

  ‘There now, them;s nice ones, aren’t they? Bet you posh ladies don't let you hold their tits, do they?’

  He bent his head and put his lips on the dark nipple, and felt, despite his intoxication, the stirrings of his lower body and was conscious of the tightness of his trousers.

  Gladys was also aware of his desire, as she unbuttoned his trousers. She was delighted by this surprising turn of events. She quite prepared, to have to 'put it in' for him, if need be. But here she was, with her hand now on the biggest 'piece', she had ever had the good fortune to accommodate.

  James was fumbling under her skirt, his breath coming in short gasps. With the help of Gladys, his fingers found the moist place, of his desire, and less than tenderly, he plunged his 'manhood' into her body, not caring if he caused any pain.

  Gladys spread her legs wide, and took in her breath, as James thrust himself into her. Each cruel movement, forced her head to bang on the base of the bush, but the pain in her head did not distract from the pleasure she was experiencing'

  She writhed with, overwhelming, ecstasy, ‘oh, Jimmy. Oh, it's so .....Mmm! Yes Jimmy ... it's .. Mmm! Bloody lovely’. Then, suddenly, it was over!

  ‘Bloody hell Jimmy, what's up?’ She looked at him. He was finished. ‘you bloody fool. Just like a bloody man. You have my body, just for you own enjoyment, then have the gall to lay there with a silly grin on you face’.

  James did, indeed, have the look of a fool as he lay there fast asleep.

  ‘Of all the ... bloody cheek’, she shrieked, and then shook him, but it was as if he was dead.

  ‘Well, I'll show you, you sod! Nobody gets a bit of that for ‘nowt’. Not even you, Master, Bloody, James’.

  She slipped her hand into his tweed cloak, and fumbled about until she found the inside pocket. She emptied it of all the money, some seven pounds and a few coppers, and put this into her purse. As she did so, a small picture fell to the floor.

  Gladys picked it up and looked at the torn photograph and the image of a lady, with light hair and perfect features, and said, ‘well lady, it was me tonight, not you’, and with that, she spat on the picture and put it back into his pocket.

  She left James there in the thicket, his clothes in disarray, oblivious to anything but his dreams of 'what might have been'.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Lucy Musgrove lived in a grand house. Not as large as the Courtney’s but quite luxurious. She sat by the window, of her small sewing room, where she had been working on her embroidery for only half an hour, and was already bored with the tedious work. She should be working on her trousseau, b
ut what was the use? The man she loved, did not want her. He wanted only the love of his sister-in-law.

  ‘Oh, how I hate you, Ellie Courtney’, she said, with venom. She had seen very little of Ellie and met her socially on only a few occasions. Their first meeting was when Ellie first began working for Victoria and she had taken little notice of her, as was the case when confronted with servants. She had only begun to take stock of the girl when she realised that James was, somewhat, attracted.

  Ellie was of course, present at Edward's funeral, when she naturally felt relief at the news of Richard's forthcoming wedding. She had been quite happy to go to the reception after the quiet ceremony, thinking that now her problems would be over. She now felt that she had been wrong to believe that James would get over his infatuation with Ellie.

  She hated her, unreasonably, for having gained the love of James, when she herself, had to be content with his friendship. Even this, it seemed, was now lost to her. There was a time when she thought their lovemaking was so good, that she had won his heart, but that was before Ellie had arrived on the scene.

  In her temper, she kicked out at her embroidery stand, which crashed to the floor sending the frame and silks flying across the room.

  At that moment, the maid came into the room. ‘Beg pardon, Miss, but the Master wishes to see you in the Study’.

  The maid looked at the embroidery silks strewn across the floor. ‘Shall I take care of this, Miss?’, she asked, failing to hide the smirk on her face.

  ‘That's alright Lily, I'll see to it’.

  ‘Very well Miss. Shall I tell the Master to expect you?’

  ‘Yes, thank you. I'll be along in a moment’. She smiled at the maid, and said, ‘run along then, Lily’.

  Lily took another insolent look at 'the mess', and then left the room.

  Lucy kissed her father on entering the Study.

  ‘What is it Father? I thought you were going out this morning?’

  ‘I was dear, but you have a visitor. She’s a very attractive young lady’. His eyes twinkled.

  ‘Oh? Who is it Father? I was not expecting anyone’, she said with a puzzled expression.

  ‘She says her name is Missus Courtney, but I am sure she is not the mother of your young man dear. So I presume she is Richard's wife. I've put her in the Drawing Room’.

  ‘Thank you father, I will go to her directly. Will you arrange for tea to be sent in?’

  Without waiting for a reply, she left the Study and made her way to the Drawing Room, pausing in front of the hall mirror, as she went.

  Her reflection told her that she looked exactly what she was, a young lady of 'means'. Her hazel eyes looked somberly back at her. She noted, with pleasure, a pale complexion, framed with hair, the colour of chestnuts.

  Ellie greeted her on entering the room.

  ‘Please forgive me for bothering you, Miss Musgrove, but I felt it right that I come here’. Lucy had been raised in a 'gentile' way, to treat people with polite consideration, so despite her earlier unkind thoughts about Ellie, she now treated her with respect.

  ‘You're welcome’, she said, ‘and please, call me Lucy, after all we are no longer strangers’.

  Ellie went on, ‘I really would not have come here but I am most concerned for James’.

  Lucy caught her breath, her heartbeat quickening. ‘I saw him only three days ago and he seemed to be well, then’.

  This was not exactly true. When she had left James after, their disastrous attempt at love, he had been in a state of drunkenness.

  Ellie saw the concern on Lucy's face and tried to reassure her. ‘I'm sure he will be all right. It's just that he’s acting so strangely and I thought you might be able to help, as you are such good friends. I don't feel I have a right to pry’.

  Lucy answered promptly, her innermost feelings getting the best of her. ‘As a matter of fact, Ellie, I think you're right. You have no rights, as far as James is concerned, and I think you should move away from here, as far as possible, before you do him more harm’.

  ‘What are you saying? I, do harm to James? I wouldn't harm him for anything in the world. We are good friends and I love him dearly’.

  ‘That's not quite right, as I understand it Ellie’.

  ‘I don't know what you mean Lucy, of course I love him’, she said as she searched Lucy's face for an explanation.

  ‘The trouble is, he loves you. Do you really misunderstand me?’ she raised her voice, ‘he loves you. My God Ellie are you so blind?’

  ‘Oh, Lucy. You mean he thinks of me, in that way? I never knew, really. I know he said he loved me long ago, and yes he asked me to marry him, but only to help me. He felt sorry for me, but since Richard and I... presumed …’

  ‘Oh Ellie, what's to become of him?’

  Lucy burst into tears of utter misery. Having held them back, with her anger they now came in sobbing torrents of helplessness.

  ‘If only he would love me ... I ... would make him, so ... so happy, that he would ... forget ... you’.

  Ellie went to put her arms around her but Lucy pushed them aside, ‘why did he.... have to.... love you? Why?’

  Her hands went to her face covering her sorrowful eyes and, with pitiful sobs, racked her body with each intake of breath.

  Watching her, and at a loss as to what to do, Ellie tried to remember how James had seemed at the time of her reunion with Richard. She could not recall having taken much notice, being so engrossed in her love of Richard. How selfish and ungrateful she must have seemed.

  She spoke softly to Lucy who was now, somewhat, composed.

  ‘I don't know how I could have been so blind? I suppose I was too busy with my own selfish needs that I did not see his suffering. What can I say? I would not hurt anyone, least of all someone who had been so good to me. Poor James. All this time and I did not realise. I'm so sorry Lucy’.

  ‘Then show me how sorry you are Ellie. Leave Leeds and let James make a new life for himself, then perhaps he will fall in love again, if not with me, then with someone else. It could make a great difference to his present existence’.

  Ellie sat in silence for a moment, going over all she had learned. She felt humble, here in the presence of Lucy, who obviously loved James more than words could say.

  She rose to her feet and held out her hand to the girl, hoping Lucy would accept it.

  Lucy politely took the proffered hand, and said, ‘Well?’

  ‘I'll talk to Richard this evening’, she said, as she went towards the door. On reaching it, Ellie turned to her and asked, ‘can we expect you at the house to see James?’

  ‘Yes, to be sure. I will keep in touch’.

  Lucy turned and went back to the Drawing Room, leaving Lily to let her visitor out.

  When Ellie relayed to Richard the events of the day, he was naturally, protective of his wife.

  ‘But Ellie, he gave us his blessing. He could not have done that unless he had already settled for only your friendship. He told me he loved you but I felt his passion was not quite the same as mine. Remember Ellie? He actually found you, for me?’

  ‘Perhaps, that fact, should convince us how strong his love was, Richard. He wanted my happiness, and he knew I loved you, so helped us both’.

  ‘We should leave, of course’, said Richard, holding Ellie close to him, ‘it would be better for everyone concerned’.

  ‘I think we must, dearest’.

  Ellie held her face close the Richard’s chest, drawing strength from his love.

  When the subject was discussed, the next morning, Louise agreed, and it was decided that Richard and Ellie would move to the country house, and run the farm.

  ‘I’ve been so worried about him, and feel better now I know what’s been bothering him’, she said tearfully, then with trembling voice asked, ‘do you think he will be alright Richard?’

  ‘I hope so Mother. I hope so’.

  What Richard dare not tell his mother was, that James had not slept in his bed last nigh
t, and this was now a regular occurrence.

  Richard went in search of his brother, hoping he would find him at he mill, and had been gone only a few minutes when the doorbell rang.

  William answered the bell and found a large, middle aged, man standing on the doorstep. The fact that he had come to the front door told William that he was not a tradesman.

  ‘Yes Sir, may I be of help?’

  He dressed well, but not as a gentleman, nevertheless, when the man spoke, he was very polite and correct.

  ‘Would it be possible to speak the Mister or Missus Courtney? It’s important’.

  ‘Mister Courtney has left the house, I’m afraid, Sir. I believe Missus Courtney is in residence. Please come in’. He opened the door wider as he asked, ‘and your name, Sir?’

  ‘Albert. Albert Roberts. Missus Courtney is acquainted with me’.

  ‘Thank you Sir. This way Please’.

  William showed the visitor into the Drawing room, leaving him there whilst he went to inform Ellie.

  Ellie, whilst pleased to see Albert, knew that he would not have come here if it were not urgent.

  ‘Albert?’, she kissed his cheek. ‘What is it?’

  ‘It’s Master James, Ellie, I’m concerned about him’.

  ‘You have seen him then? His bed hasn’t been slept in and we’re very worried. Richard has gone to the mill to see if he’s there’.

  ‘Oh, he’ll find him there all right, but in what state, I don’t know. He spent last night at my place, slept on the floor in the saloon bar, he did, but this morning he still seemed to be intoxicated’.

  ‘And he went to the mill?’

  ‘Said he was going to work, anyway, and wouldn’t hear of me taking him home. It seems to me Ellie that he’s not quite right in the head. Ere ... no offence ... Ellie’!

  ‘Thank you for coming Albert, I appreciate it. I’ll join my husband at the mill, immediately and see what is to be done’.

  Albert made to leave, ‘I hope everything turns out all right, Ellie. He’s a decent sort and I wouldn’t like to have anything happen to him’.

  Albert bid her ‘good day’, leaving Ellie wondering how she could solve the problem; after all, it was mostly, her fault that he was in such a dilemma. As she too, left the house, she prayed that God would show her the way.