Once Beloved

by Amara Royce

  “I’m not surprised,” she said, when he described the cramped and deplorable conditions for workers in Bradford. “The Ten Hours Bill marked important progress in fair treatment of mill workers, especially children, but it wasn’t a panacea, at least not in London. And those are the tragedies that have been reported. I know of one instance when almost an entire family was lost in a factory fire. The parents and their children all worked in different parts of the building, and only one of the children survived. The poor orphan was taken in by the manager so as not to lose an employee to an orphanage.”

  “Aye, I’ve heard similar tales. Deplorable,” he said with fervor. “That’s why I’m determined to start fresh. I’ve done my all to keep my mills clean and safe, to pay my workers decent wages, to set reasonable hours, but it’s difficult to maintain what seem like reasonable conditions when unscrupulous mill owners will woo them away with the promise of more pay for more work. I believe there is much more to an efficient and effective workforce than constant production. So many workers earn just enough to pay for their cramped, overcrowded tenements and have barely enough to eat, stretching every morsel and going hungry so that the children can be fed. I have in mind a miniature utopia in which to test an entire society constructed to foster happy, knowledgeable, productive workers. I believe focusing on the well-being of the workers, physically but also spiritually and emotionally, will result in the greatest and most dependable output of quality goods. Clean, affordable homes, schools for all, shops and markets offering fair prices—all of these work in concert to foster good, diligent workers. Just as a stallion performs best when well-fed, well-treated, and properly trained, so too I hypothesize mill workers shall thrive under the proper conditions.”

  “That’s a massive and quite intensive project,” she replied, awed by his vision. The sour look on Daniel’s face distracted her momentarily, but Salt’s ambitious idea fascinated her. “You’re practically building your own village. You must have a vast network of contacts based on your political career here in order to build all those sectors of society in such accord. I shall keep a close watch on your vision as it becomes real. I know many people in London who would be thrilled to see your utopia succeed. Indeed, it would be wonderful to alleviate the suffering of so many, but it seems we need more proof of how the use of compassionate business practices can benefit revenue more than long hours and intimidation tactics. Factory work must not be so dehumanizing.”

  “How is it that you know such detailed information and have formed such particular ideas about industrial practices, Mrs. Martin?” Before she could reply, Mr. Salt turned to Daniel, as if just noticing him for the first time. “Sir, are you an industrialist? Your . . . companion. . . seems extremely well informed.”

  She tensed at the way he referred to her and felt, rather than saw, Daniel recoil from the word companion. Really, no word seemed truly fitting for whatever their interaction was now.

  “Mr. Lanfield is a neighbor of my family,” she explained. “As I am from London, I needed a guide to take me around Bradford for various and sundry items to care for my grandmother.”

  “Of course, of course. How very good of you to come all the way from London to look after her, ma’am. Perhaps when this new mill town is constructed, you might visit it and see the progress for yourself, assuming that it works as well as I hope. In fact, if you have the time, Mrs. Martin, I would be pleased to give you a tour of the land, idyllic for my purposes.”

  In her periphery, she glimpsed Daniel’s shoulders stiffening at that. She turned to find his expression had grown dark and suspicious as he stared at Mr. Salt. What on earth could possibly make him so dislike the man based on such brief acquaintance?

  “Given her grandmother’s condition, I doubt Mrs. Martin has time to go traipsing about the countryside,” he said. Did she imagine the deep growl in his voice?

  “Forgive me,” Mr. Salt replied immediately. “I didn’t mean to presume. You’re both welcome at any time. Send me a note if you wish to see the place, and I’ll arrange everything. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do hope you have a safe trip back to your village.” He took his leave of them politely, but that didn’t relieve her concerns about Daniel’s standoffish behavior.

  “Mr. Lanfield, that was unconscionably rude!”

  “No more rude than his undermining of English wool trade. No ruder than his behavior toward you,” he insisted.

  She stared at him, baffled by his response, as heat crept up her neck. She was almost afraid to ask, but the words came out anyway. “What do you mean?”

  His brows came together as he scowled at her. “I’ve already told you. He introduced the alpaca trade in this region, and it hit Lanfield and other local farms hard.” When he fell silent, crossing his arms over his chest forbiddingly, she found she couldn’t let his other observation go. No more rude than his behavior toward you. What could make him react so extremely?

  “What did you mean about his behavior toward me? He was all politeness.”

  “He’s known to be a private, quiet man. Don’t you think it strange that he was so loquacious with you? And he was so quick to invite you to his property out in a remote area.”

  “If I understand what you’re implying, don’t be ridiculous. We share a common interest in social improvement. Many people do. And his invitation was to both of us, wasn’t it?”

  He looked unconvinced. “Didn’t you see how he looked at you?”

  “Really, Daniel, you’re fabricating this perception entirely of air. What has come over you?”

  “We’re done here,” he said abruptly. “It’s time to go.”

  Confused by his curt manner, she left the public house on edge, her anxiety growing as they wove through the still-full tables. Stepping out the door, she felt her lungs expand. She stopped, closed her eyes, and took a deep cleansing breath. She felt Daniel close behind her and admitted, “I’m surprised I lasted that long in there.”

  He simply nodded and led her to the cart. She could practically see the wheels in his head turning and wondered what path his mind was following. It didn’t appear to be leading anywhere good.

  As before, silence felt like the safest choice as Daniel drove through the crowded streets. But this time, instead of an empty, vapid silence, the air between them felt tense and bitter. Again. She hadn’t realized how much had changed between them until the distance between them stretched out again. Once they were outside of the city, the road became more monotonous. Fatigue crept through her limbs, and she tried every trick she could to chase it away. Twice, she felt her head jerk up as she almost nodded off.

  She was startled awake a third time as Daniel pulled on the reins, calling Talos to halt.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her head muddled from that twilight stage of sleep.

  “If you’re so tired, you should move to the cart and lie down properly,” he said in a clipped tone.

  “I’ll be fine,” she replied quickly. His derisive snort transformed all her accumulated confusion and frustration from their trip into irritation. “You seemed to be in a mood. You were much more pleasant earlier, cordial even. What happened to set you off thus?”

  “Well, let’s see, shall we? First, you make abundantly clear that you wish to avoid my company. Then you absolutely refuse to discuss that brief and baffling intimacy we shared the night of the storm. Then, after striving to assist you and watch for your safety, I find that you’re entirely oblivious to a man inappropriately vying for your attention. If that weren’t enough, and I’d say it was more than enough, then, despite all my best intentions, you fall asleep with your head against my shoulder.”

  His catalog of complaints took so much effort to unravel that she didn’t realize at first what his words implied. When she did, she felt thunderstruck. Trying to navigate through a minefield she wasn’t prepared for, she said tentatively, “I’m sorry to have been such a problem today. It seems everything I do is bound to cause you grief.”

  “
Oh, Helena, you are a problem indeed, but grief is not at all what you cause me.” He shifted to face her, and his fierce, intense expression stunned her. “Obviously, I haven’t explained myself well. I need you to go sit in the cart because I’m unbearably aware of your every move. I need you to move out of arm’s reach because, when you laid your head on my shoulder, all I wanted to do was take you in my arms and kiss you senseless. I hope you, of all people, can understand the conundrum of desiring something entirely untenable.”

  Any hint of tiredness disappeared. Instantly, she recognized that she’d wholly misinterpreted the energy she’d felt swirling between them. And she was frightened of how strongly it moved her, probably as frightened as he was. Coward that she was, without a word, she immediately climbed down, and she understood all too well why he set down the step for her to climb into the back, assiduously avoiding all contact with her. Whatever this feeling was between them, it was best they pretended it didn’t exist.

  Chapter 18

  Only ten days since their arrival, Vanessa could almost collect eggs from the chicken coop without gagging. She’d never be able to tolerate that disgusting smell. Mr. Weathers insisted he keep the task of cleaning the coop daily, thank God! How these three elderly people got along here without help was a mystery.

  She wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but Aunt Helena had been right that taking on some of the unfamiliar household chores would be “improving.” Even with the stench of the coop, she’d rather be outdoors in the morning sun than endlessly dusting knickknacks. She might even offer to beat the rugs if she could do it out here, with the verdant emerald fields in sight. With the chickens all squawking like eager gossips, she didn’t hear the hoofbeats until they were almost upon her. She tried to blow stray locks away from her face, to no avail, as she straightened. She must look a fright, but Granny Thorton hadn’t exactly been in a condition to welcome company. Perhaps she could duck behind the coop for a while. She sighed. No, with Aunt Helena gone to Bradford for supplies, she should go and help Mrs. Weathers greet any guests.

  “Good day, Miss Vanessa!”

  She jumped at the greeting from that deep, energetic voice. Oh, no, no, no. Although they’d only met once, she recognized that voice. And even without turning around, she could picture the handsome dark-haired lad attached to that voice. She was a tiny bit pleased that he remembered her name, although she should probably tell him to call her Miss Addison to be proper. Still, she liked how her name sounded in his lilting accent.

  “Good morning, Mr. Lanfield. You’re out roaming early today.”

  “Nay, it’s just an average morning. Most days, I’m out on my horse at first light.”

  She’d had to adjust quickly to the rhythm and schedule of farm life when they arrived. On their third day here, Mrs. Weathers had come knocking at dawn, muttering something about pampered delicate flowers. Since then, Vanessa had made sure to throw herself into helping around the house. She began falling asleep exhausted soon after nightfall and waking while it was still dark.

  “Your family must depend on you for quite a lot,” she observed.

  He shrugged, although a glimmer of pride crossed his face, and he said, “We all do our part, don’t we? Need any help?” He dismounted with surprising grace.

  “I’ve just finished. Anyway, I’m sure you have more pressing matters than attending to me and my little chores.”

  “I wouldn’t mind. There’s no chore too small on a farm. And, if I may say, you looked a bit out of place when we first met. I hope you’re doing better now.”

  Her face heated at his reminder of her humiliating episode with the hungry sheep. She bristled at his judgment of her.

  “I’m fine, thank you,” she bit out as politely as she could. She lifted her chin and added, “I’d like to see how you would handle the teeming chaos of London, which is a world away from these bucolic fields.”

  “Bucolic. I’ll have to remember that one.” His too-full lips quirked, and amusement lit his hazel eyes.

  What was she doing, noticing his eyes? She adored Billy’s pale gray eyes, the color of burgeoning smoke.

  “I’ll grant you, miss, I’d likely be a fish suffocating on land in the great city. I’ve never been farther abroad than Leeds, which I’d consider unbearably crowded. One advantage of any city, though, is that there are lots more pretty girls, like you.” Then he winked at her. Actually winked!

  She couldn’t suppress a giggle at his ridiculous flirtation, and she was mightily relieved to hear him laugh as well.

  “That was poorly done of me, wasn’t it?”

  “I did expect a bit more finesse.” What was she doing? Stop flirting! “Now I’m certain you have more important things to do than stand here amusing me.”

  He nodded and doffed his cap. “In fact, I’m here to deliver some packages from my mother to your, well, great-grandmother, I suppose. We’ve always just called her the Grand-dame.”

  “Oh, I like that! It sounds so dignified.”

  He snorted and then looked repentant. “Er, she’s deeply respected. She just, er, doesn’t stand on ceremony, if you catch my meaning. She’s not one to value dignity over enjoyment. I still remember how she’d come fish with us when my siblings and I were little.”

  “You’re quite fond of her, aren’t you?”

  “She’s like family”

  “Well, come on then. I’ll give these to Mrs. Weathers and see if the Grand-dame is up for a visitor.”

  It took little time to deliver the eggs, along with a pie the young man’s mother had sent along.

  “Tell her that her Prince Hal is here,” he called out as Vanessa left the kitchen.

  She turned impulsively and replied, “I’m sure you’re not as manipulative as all that.”

  “Only because I’ve lacked the opportunity,” he shot back with another wink. His playfulness was so different from the calculated teasing and innuendo of the boys she and her friends encountered at home. He didn’t seem at all predatory. As she made her way up the stairs, she heard him compliment Mrs. Weathers on her pretty ribbons and heard the old woman’s answering giggle.

  Gran’s face lit up when she announced the young Mr. Lanfield. It was a joy to see her so revived. After helping her with a hasty toilette, she went to get “Prince Hal” and left them chatting fondly. When she returned almost an hour later with a tray of tea and pie slices, she found them both belly-laughing. He immediately rose and took the tray from her.

  “May I ask what was so amusing?” she asked.

  Gran dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief and said, “Oh, dearie, it would be too difficult to explain. Just us being silly.”

  Before she realized it, young Lanfield had placed the tray on the bureau and already delivered tea and pie to Gran’s bedside. As soon as Gran was settled, he said, “I should be going. You need your rest. I’m so pleased to see you are on the mend. Everyone at home will be relieved to hear it.”

  The beautiful new blanket draping Gran’s bed distracted her. “What a piece of work!” she said in awe. “Is this from your mother?”

  “Aye, well, it’s more of a family affair,” he replied, a blush creeping up his neck. “The wool is from our flock, sheared by our own hands. Mother and the bairns at home did all the spinning. Mother handled the dyeing.” He ticked off each step with his fingers. “And all of us took turns with the knitting when we could.”

  “You knit?” Vanessa said, surprised.

  “’Course I do. It comes natural to shepherds maybe. Everyone I know carries a sack or basket of knitting with him. I’ve always needles and yarn with me in the fields. You know what they say about idle hands and all that.”

  “This cover is spectacular! My mother and her friends do a great deal of handiwork with yarn and thread, and they would all marvel at this.”

  “Naught but a blanket,” he said with a tilt of his head. “Mother does much more intricate lace and such. That’s the really impressive stuff.”

  “I ex
pect your mother would get along famously with mine!”

  Something about her mother triggered a drastic change in him. It was as if a wall had suddenly been erected between them. His expression went blank, his posture stiff.

  “It’d be futile to speculate on that now, wouldn’t it?” His jaw was clenched. “I’d not wish for my mother to suffer the company of those Thorton girls—” He stopped midsentence, as if just then realizing where he was, and his face reddened alarmingly. He moved to take Gran’s hand briefly and said to her, “I’ll visit again soon, Grand-dame. You know I can’t stay away from your bonny face.”

  Gently, Gran patted his arm and said, “Get on with your chores, Hal. You’re a good lad.” But before he could walk away, she added, “Just watch what you say about us Thorton girls, all right?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a bow of his head.

  Vanessa went to see him out, but he ran down the stairs too fast for her to keep up. She heard him call out a farewell to Mrs. Weathers as he rushed out the back door.

  She couldn’t wait to return to London.

  Chapter 19

  The ipecacuan and mustard blister prescribed by the doctor seemed to do wonders for Gran. Within a few days, her breath came easier, and her color and appetite improved significantly. It felt like a gift to see her rise from her bed one bright morning to sit by the window. How long had she been suffering needlessly before sending for assistance? Helena wondered. How close had the sweet woman come to crossing the veil? Helena shook her head as she took that opportunity to change her grandmother’s sheets and tidy up. No good could come of such speculation. Gran was on the mend, and, now that the door was open, she would strive to visit as often as she could. Gran couldn’t stay here indefinitely, and she and Elizabeth couldn’t give her the kind of regular attention her health must require, not from such a great distance. Changes would have to be made. Still, as she looked at her grandmother’s gentle and dimly sad countenance as the woman tilted her face toward the streaming sunlight, she knew such a monumental conversation must wait, perhaps for a time when her sister could be present and all together they could decide the best fate, not only for Gran but for what was left of the Thorton farm.