by Rosie Clarke
‘Yes, Lady Jones, I know – but Lady Barton is faint and Lady Prior is ill and Lord Barton has had a fit …’
‘My father …’ Lizzie stared at her in shock. ‘Mama and Granny … what shall we do?’
‘Has the doctor been sent for, Mary?’
‘Yes … Mrs Nicolas,’ Mary said looking at Emily awkwardly. ‘Lady Barton is in her room. Mrs Marsh is trying to revive Lady Prior in the parlour. Mr Jonathan and Mr Nicolas have carried their father up to his room.’
‘I’m still Emily to you. Lizzie, you’d better go to your mother. I’ll see if I can help Mrs Marsh with your grandmother. Your father needs the doctor and we can’t do much for him until he comes.’
‘I’ll go to Mother,’ Lizzie said, looking white and shocked. ‘What happened to Granny, Mary?’
‘It seems she stood up quickly and then just crumpled into a heap. Your mama had the hysterics and your father … he shouted at her and then he slumped down in a chair and passed out.’
‘Poor Granny,’ Lizzie said, tears in her eyes. ‘She’s been ill for a long time but she never complains. It must have been the shock …’
‘Lizzie, please don’t say any more,’ Emily warned. ‘Go to your mama now. I’ll help Mrs Marsh if I can …’
‘How is she?’ Emily asked when Nicolas entered the parlour where she was sitting alone later that evening. ‘The doctor said your father’s apoplectic fit is a warning to slow down but he thinks he will recover this time. I think it is Lady Prior who has suffered the worst.’
‘Granny is still unconscious,’ Nicolas said. ‘Apparently, it could have happened at any moment these past six months or more.’
‘I’m so sorry, Nicolas. Was it the shock of your marriage?’
‘I think it was seeing my father in a temper. She was trying to calm him down and it just happened. Jonathan knew that Father’s heart was not all it should be – but I had no idea …’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t be, it isn’t your fault.’
‘Your grandmother too … I feel terrible. We shouldn’t have come here.’
‘Granny is a proud lady, but she was willing to accept my marriage. Father upset her by ranting at her – and me.’
‘She stood up for you even though he wanted to forbid you to the manor.’
‘She’s so stubborn,’ Nicolas said, ‘but despite her pride and the fact that she is undoubtedly a snob where her family is concerned – I loved her.’
‘Of course you did.’ Emily stood up and went to him. ‘I’m so sorry. I know you must be hurting. To have both your father and grandmother ill at the same time …’
‘Father will recover. He has been told not to get angry and advised to cut down on his drinking, but he carries on as always. Granny is another matter. She’s old and frail, Emily – and I’m sorry I hurt her.’
‘Because you married me?’
‘No, because I insisted on having it out with my father. I didn’t think he would go barging into the parlour and start shouting at Mama and Granny.’
‘It might have been better to wait.’
‘Perhaps – yet I wanted him to accept you. Besides, the doctor said that Granny could have had the stroke even if nothing had happened, but I shall always feel partially to blame.’
‘No, it isn’t your fault,’ Emily said. ‘You told your father in private. He should have been more considerate.’
‘Perhaps …’ Nicolas sighed. ‘I have to leave for my unit the day after tomorrow. I suppose I could ask for compassionate leave, but they are unlikely to grant it unless someone is dead.’
‘I could stay on for a while,’ Emily said. ‘If I can be of help …’
‘Jonathan has arranged for a private nurse to come in and look after the invalids. Mabel is here and Lizzie may stay for a day or two – and my mother will cope when she’s calmed down. I want to see you settled in a house of our own, Emily.’
‘You think I should not be welcome in your grandmother’s sick room?’
‘I’m not saying that – but best to leave them to get on with it. They’ve accepted we’re married, but I don’t want to throw you to the lions if I’m not around to defend you.’
‘I’m not that fragile, Nicolas.’
‘I know – but it’s too soon. Give them time. We’ll come down again when I’m next on leave. Lizzie is fond of her grandmother. Once she comes round, Lizzie will sit with her and read to her. I’m sure that’s what she’d prefer.’
‘I see …’ Emily turned away. ‘Well, I have to have my things put in store and give my staff notice. If it will be easier, I could find a house to let somewhere locally – and when you come home next time you could look for something in London.’
Nicolas hesitated, and then nodded, ‘Yes, perhaps. I’ll give you some money and you’ll receive a part of my wage while I’m serving overseas. You can write to me, let me know where you are – that way we could have one last day here …’
Emily nodded her agreement. She walked over to the window and looked out. The roses were in full bloom, a beautiful white one cascading down a south-facing wall. As the breeze ruffled it some petals detached themselves and fell, looking like a shower of white raindrops. It was so beautiful but everything else was ugly. She fought her desire to cry. Her offer to help had been instinctive and it hurt that Nicolas had turned it down.
‘Don’t be hurt, my love.’ Nicolas put his arms about her from behind, kissing the back of her neck. ‘I love you. You are my world. My mother and grandmother will accept you in time – Father too. We just have to let them come round in their own way.’
‘Yes, I know.’ Emily turned in his arms, reaching up to kiss him. His familiar smell calmed and comforted her, easing the tiny pinpricks of hurt. ‘We shan’t quarrel, Nicolas. Our time is too precious. If there’s nothing more we can do let’s go to bed – and then I’ll be alone and you’ll be back in Belgium.’
‘The days will pass and I’ll be home again,’ he said and bent his head to kiss her lips. ‘You can’t help Granny if you stay. The doctor says she has a fifty-fifty chance of recovery. She doesn’t have much time left to her I’m afraid.’
‘That’s sad,’ Emily said and took his hand. ‘Shall we go up? I want to lie in your arms. Everything was so perfect and now …’
‘It’s the way life is,’ Nicolas said and smiled. ‘But whatever happens here we’re strong. Nothing but death will ever part us for long …’
Chapter 48
Nicolas drove Emily into Ely that morning. He looked regretful as he gave her a long, lingering kiss on the mouth.
‘I wish I didn’t have to leave. I should have liked to see you settled, Emily – to know you were safe in a decent house.’
‘I have the money you put into an account at your bank for me. I have to tidy things up at the pub, so I might as well stay there with Jack until I find a little house of my own. I don’t need a big place until you come home, then we’ll find something together. Surely this war can’t go on for much longer?’
‘According to the paper British deaths were more than 127,000 in August alone. We’re just standing still, Emily. Somehow we have to make a push or this conflict could drag on for years.’
So many dead. The number had lingered in Emily’s mind after her husband had driven away. Compared to that, what was the illness of one old lady who had outlived the world she knew? Yet Emily knew that Nicolas was feeling guilty because he’d inadvertently caused her to have the stroke and because he’d had to leave before he knew whether or not she would recover. Emily wished that the family had accepted her because she would have liked to help nurse the old lady, whom she admired despite knowing that she was despised.
Emily walked down the hill to her pub – not hers for much longer now. She must give the staff a week’s notice and arrange for her things to be moved, though she wasn’t sure where she wanted to live. There must be some houses available in Ely, unless she went further afield …
E
mily disliked the idea of giving Vera and the youth who’d been so handy in the yard the sack. Of course they would find work easily enough; young Fred would probably have to join up soon if this wretched war dragged on. Emily didn’t want to think about that, because the longer the war went on the more likely it became that Nicolas’s fabled luck would run out.
No, she wouldn’t let herself think about that, because she loved him too much and she couldn’t bear to lose him.
Emily found the perfect little cottage for her the following day. It was in Waterside, not far from the river, an end of terrace, which had once been an alms house but was now let to tenants. The rent was modest and would not stretch her budget too far, because Nicolas had given her fifty pounds, telling her that she would receive another fifteen each month from his salary. He’d also promised to send some more funds to her bank as soon as he was able to arrange the transfer.
Nicolas had told Emily that she had no need to work, but the idea of being a lady of leisure did not attract her. For the next several days she would be busy with packing, moving and scrubbing out the pub so that it was clean for the next owner. The thought of leaving her little haven wrenched at her heart, but she knew Nicolas would have hated her to continue to run a public house. It was bad enough that she had done so but to continue after their marriage would cause his family outrage.
Emily moved into her cottage ten days after taking it on. She spent three days polishing and cleaning and was pleased with the result, feeling that she deserved a treat. As it was a fine September day, she put on a light jacket, and dressed Jack decently in the new clothes Nicolas had bought for him while on holiday, before taking him to the park. When she left the park she saw the newsvendor selling papers and stopped to buy one. She scanned the headlines for news of the war, which seemed as dire as ever, but didn’t read much of the local news until that evening. About to turn over the page giving details of the latest births, deaths and marriages, a name caught her eye and a little shock went through her.
Lady Prior had passed peacefully away at home. The funeral was to be the following day at St Mary’s Church in Ely.
Emily’s throat caught with pain. No one had let her know. She’d been left to discover it in the paper – and she hadn’t been invited to the funeral. She was Nicolas’s wife and yet she’d been ignored. For a moment the hurt swathed through her and then she became angry.
Nicolas would be devastated when he heard of his grandmother’s death, but he would want Emily to attend in his place, of that much she was certain. She would probably not go back to the house, but there was no reason why she should not slip into the back of the church unnoticed.
Emily’s head went up. She would go whether the family liked it or not.
Emily’s plan of slipping into the church unnoticed went sadly awry when she arrived to discover Lizzie and Sir Arthur standing outside the church waiting for the funeral cortège to arrive. Lizzie came to her at once, her eyes dark shadowed by grief as they embraced.
‘I’m so glad you came, Emily,’ she said. ‘You got my letter? I sent it to the pub because I wasn’t sure where you were.’
Emily told her that she’d moved and that she’d seen the notice in the local paper, but she felt warmed because at least one of the family was pleased to see her. When Lizzie insisted that she join with the rest of the family to follow the coffin into the church and sit with her and Sir Arthur, she could not refuse, though she saw Lord Barton give her a furious glance before he turned his head away. His cold look made her feel uncomfortable but Lizzie was crying softly and she reached for Emily’s hand as the vicar began the eulogy.
After the interment, Lizzie asked her to drive back to the manor with them, assuring her that Sir Arthur would take her home later. Emily was hesitant but they were both so friendly and so insistent that she was family and must come to the reception that she felt compelled to agree. Lady Barton looked at her once, inclining her head and then averting her eyes. Jonathan smiled at her encouragingly, but Lord Barton steadfastly ignored her. Emily lifted her head proudly. She was Nicolas’s wife whether his father liked it or not and she would have to get used to being treated as an outsider by Lord Barton – but she must do her best to be on good terms with the others, because otherwise she would be letting Nicolas down.
The manor was a sombre place, draped in black in the drawing room to mark the occasion, and Lady Prior’s chair noticeably empty. People looked at it but preferred to stand rather than take the throne that had belonged to the proud lady who had outlived her era.
Emily watched the servants serving guests with wine, some of them known to her and some extra helpers brought in especially for the sad occasion. She felt a wistful longing to be one of them, because at least when she’d worked at the manor she’d known her place and she’d felt useful. Now the servants were respectful to her, even if some of them looked at her oddly. Lady Prior’s friends and relations stared at her from a distance, only one or two giving her a nod of recognition. Had it not been for Lizzie and Sir Arthur she might have turned tail and run, but pride kept her head high and her face expressionless. She wasn’t going to beg these people to like her. When Nicolas came home he would decide what to do about the attitude of his family towards her, but for the moment she must just carry on and accept it.
‘Mrs Nicolas,’ Mrs Marsh came up to her quietly. ‘Lord Barton has asked to see you in his study before you leave.’
‘Thank you. Please tell him I shall be leaving in a few moments – if that would be convenient.’
Mrs Marsh went over to her father-in-law. He listened, glanced at Emily and then nodded. Seeing him leave the reception, Emily went to follow. Lizzie caught her arm, asking her where she was going. She frowned as Emily told her, and then warned her not to let him intimidate her.
‘Jon, Arthur and I will support you. I’ll come over soon and see you – if you leave me your address.’
‘I’ll write it down for you before I go,’ Emily promised, her heart racing as she walked to the study, knocked at the door and waited to be invited. Inside, she saw her former employer standing by the fireplace. It was an intimidating room, with lots of dark leather and sombre hues. Pictures and bookshelves lined the walls and a huge mahogany desk hogged the centre of the floor. He stared at her for a moment, before inclining his head.
‘I suppose I must thank you for your attendance today,’ Lord Barton said. ‘My son insists that it would have looked odd had you not come – but I must tell you that your presence in my house is not acceptable to me.’
‘I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.’
‘I am not interested in anything you could do. I’ve asked you to come here to tell you that I wish you to leave my house at once. I shall have you driven to Ely or to the station, or wherever suits you. It is my intention to do everything in my power to force my son to remember his duty to his family and seek a divorce.’
Emily gasped, feeling as if he’d thrown cold water over her. ‘Nicolas will never agree to that. If you say such a thing to him he will simply stop coming here.’
‘Unless he agrees to my terms I shall disown him and he will not be permitted to visit his mother or sister. I was forced to accept this while Lady Prior lived but I am the master here now and my word is final.’
His expression was cold, his mouth hard, eyes looking straight through her. She could feel the anger and hatred emanating from him.
‘You would really hurt your wife, Lizzie and Nicolas just because I was not born of your class?’ Emily looked him in the eyes. ‘I did not marry Nicolas because of anything he could give me. The manor means nothing to me – though I had friends here. I love him and he loves me. I think you are harsh to ban him from his home but that is your choice. For me it means nothing but I am sorry that you will hurt others for the sake of your pride.’
‘I am not interested in your thoughts or feelings on the matter. Please leave now. I have nothing more to say to you. You will speak to no one but the maid wa
iting for you; she will escort you from the house. I trust you have enough money for the taxi fare?’
‘If I hadn’t I should not ask you to loan it to me,’ Emily said. ‘I am sorry for you, sir. I hope you will not live to regret what you’ve done.’
His eyes bulged, his neck turning red. He looked as if he might have another apoplectic fit.
‘Damn your impertinence. You’re nothing but the kitchen skivvy. Get out now!’
Emily lifted her head proudly, then turned and walked away without another word. Outside in the hall, Mary was waiting for her.
‘I’m sorry, Emily. I was told to see you left without speaking to anyone – but if you want to pop into the kitchen …’
‘No, I shan’t do that,’ Emily said. ‘I’ll write to my friends, Mary. All I want is to leave now.’ Her eyes were pricking with tears but her pride wouldn’t allow her to cry. ‘Tell Mrs Hattersley what happened.’
‘I’ve been told I’m not to say.’ Mary bit her lip. ‘I’ll tell Cook, Emily, but I will have to make her promise not to tell anyone else.’
‘Thank you.’
Emily glanced around the hall. She had come to love this house but now that Lord Barton was the master here it was unlikely that she would return to the manor again while he lived.
Distressed by the unpleasant scene with Lord Barton, Emily forgot her promise to leave Lizzie her address. All she wanted to do was to get home, fetch Jack from Vera’s house and hide away from the world – at least the people who lived here in this house.
Emily only remembered her promise to let Lizzie know where she was living three weeks later. She’d posted her latest letter to Nicolas, giving him her love and telling him what she’d been doing. Not once had she mentioned how cruel his father had been to her, because there was no point in distressing him. Emily had mentioned the funeral but not gone into details. Instead, she wrote of a voluntary group she’d joined. It was just a friendly little group of women who knitted scarves and socks for the troops and collected scrap. She’d entered Jack into a kindergarten group and thought he was better for having someone of his own age to play with. Her life was busy if not entirely happy, but how could it be while her husband was away?