Rich Girl, Poor Girl

Home > Fiction > Rich Girl, Poor Girl > Page 16
Rich Girl, Poor Girl Page 16

by Val Wood


  She wondered what Luke’s reaction would have been had he seen his son’s behaviour towards Dora. He would have been angry, she was sure. And she wondered at Dora’s seeking out Sam. How did he behave towards her, and had she told him about Edwin? It was not a subject for discussion, she thought. Dora would surely have kept it to herself. She would be too frightened and too ashamed to tell.

  She sighed. Life is full of constraints for women, she thought. We don’t have the freedom that men have. She linked arms with Polly. At least, most of us don’t.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The next two weeks saw the weather improve. The sun became warmer and the snow all but disappeared; pockets of cowslips appeared in ditches, and primroses raised their faces in sheltered corners and under hedges around the farm.

  Rosalie and Polly roamed the surrounding area, sometimes staying out all afternoon, revelling in the wild beauty of the moor. Polly in particular took in great gulps of air as if she couldn’t get enough of it.

  Howard said one evening that if they were up early enough the following morning they could go with him up the moor towards the village of Littlebeck. They were more than eager to go further than they could explore on foot.

  ‘If you could ride then you could each take a horse and go wherever you wanted,’ he said as they jogged along in the trap. ‘Clemmie rides. Would you like me to teach you?’

  Polly was enthusiastic, Rosalie less so, remembering the uncomfortable journey to the farm in the snow.

  ‘You should try something new, Rosalie,’ Howard teased. ‘Where’s your sense of adventure? You have a freedom here that you’d never get in the town. You’d have to be a very proper lady there.’

  Rosalie pondered. He was quite right. His attitude reminded her of Sonny Blake, who had said something similar. And both seemed to regard men and women as equals. They were forthright in their opinions, something she found intriguing and exhilarating not having come across it before. When she had previously discussed the subject with Polly, Polly had replied that she didn’t know what she meant.

  ‘Amongst folk I know, we are equal,’ Polly had commented. ‘It’s onny when we’re among toffs that we’re not and that’s because we haven’t been educated.’

  Rosalie had considered this, and said, ‘But I know girls with brothers, and the boys go away to school to be educated, whilst the girls stay at home and learn things like sewing and music; they have a smattering of education which is not for their own sake but to enable them to understand their future husbands’ business activities.’

  ‘Pah!’ Polly exclaimed. ‘You don’t think like that, do you, Rosalie?’

  ‘No,’ Rosalie had told her. ‘I don’t. I’ve often read my father’s books in order to improve my mind.’ She’d sighed. ‘But I’m not sure that it will make any difference to my life.’

  Howard looked round at them in the back of the trap, waiting for an answer. ‘So which do you prefer?’ he asked. ‘Freedom to behave as you wish, up to a point that is, or to behave as is expected of you?’

  Polly just laughed. ‘I’d choose freedom every time,’ she said. ‘As long as I could have a good meal every day; and a roof over my head,’ she added.

  Rosalie wondered why it was that Polly didn’t have a problem in answering a direct question from a man, as she did. Am I always searching for an answer that I think will please them, as is expected of me? Which I suppose is exactly what he is saying!

  ‘I don’t know,’ she confessed. ‘Never having had that freedom I can’t say or even know what it is I really want.’

  ‘Oh, come!’ Howard said. ‘You must have some heart’s desire, some longing that you’d like to fulfil!’

  Rosalie took a deep breath. ‘Well, I’ve never really allowed myself to consider concepts that were out of my reach, but—’

  ‘Yes?’ he encouraged. ‘What is it that is out of reach?’

  She paused. It was such an unlikely eventuality that it seemed ridiculous to mention it. She gazed out at the passing scenery as they bowled along, the dip and rise of the rolling hills, the wide valleys lush and green after the snow, the roe deer which she had seen on the skyline that morning moving towards the distant dark woods.

  ‘Well,’ she murmured again. ‘This is so beautiful and dramatic; it has awakened my ... my long desire to travel abroad. In my father’s study at home there are many books describing the countries he has been to; and others also where he has not been. Some of the books have line drawings and coloured lithographs. There was one about Ireland, which I believe is very green, and another about India where it is very hot.’ She paused as she recollected. ‘Another one was about Egypt, with pictures showing the pyramids. Perhaps I’d never go there, but to be able to visit the Italian lakes, or even Spain, would be wonderful.’ She sighed. ‘But unlikely!’

  ‘Good heavens!’ Polly declared. ‘You’d have to marry a very, very rich man to do all of that.’ She smiled. ‘I’d be happy just to stay here for ’rest of my life!’

  ‘What, and not visit your old friends back home in Hull?’ Howard asked.

  Polly was silenced. ‘There’s nobody,’ she said softly. ‘Not since my ma died.’ She cast a glance at him and he turned his head and smiled at her as she said, ‘I’ll just have to mek new ones.’

  ‘What about me?’ Rosalie said plaintively. ‘I thought we were friends?’

  ‘So we are,’ Polly said. ‘But you’re planning on travelling abroad and leaving me behind!’

  They drove along narrow roads and crossed stone bridges over swiftly running streams to reach the village of Littlebeck, which nestled at the bottom of a steep wooded valley. Howard dropped them off to stretch their legs whilst he made his calls. He told them that he wanted to look at a cow and calf, with the intention of buying them, for himself, he said, not for his uncle. ‘I’d like to start breeding,’ he told them. ‘Luke has some cattle, but he prefers to concentrate on his sheep.’

  He was also going to order a quantity of wood and nails, and pick up some supplies that Mrs Moody had requested. He told them he would meet them in half an hour.

  Littlebeck was a very pretty village, greener and softer than the high moor of Fylingdale. They climbed a hill and sat down on a rock to look down at the cottages nestling below with their neat gardens; the air was full of birdsong and they breathed in the scents of newly mown grass and wood smoke and chatted about how their lives had changed since they had met.

  ‘Never did I think I’d come somewhere like this,’ Polly said. ‘I didn’t even know such a place existed, and yet we are still in Yorkshire.’

  A fresh wind got up and they started to feel the chill and so made their way back down the hill to where they could see Howard talking to someone. Their cheeks were glowing with the exertion, but they were both exhilarated.

  ‘It’s lovely here,’ Polly said. ‘So pretty. Much greener and softer than up on our moor.’

  Howard laughed. ‘Claiming it as your own, Polly?’

  ‘Yes.’ She breathed out. ‘I am. And if Rosalie decides to go on her travels or doesn’t stay for any reason, then I shall try for work on a farm or in an inn.’

  ‘Or marry a farmer,’ Rosalie suggested.

  ‘Or that,’ she said. ‘If anybody’d have me. Howard, why do you come on these errands? Don’t you have a lad who could do them, like Sam?’

  ‘I’m quite sure that Sam would be glad to come on a jaunt rather than be in the stables, but I like to keep my ear to the ground and find out what’s happening in the district: keep up with the price of wool, who’s selling what, and so on. But also,’ he hesitated, ‘I like to earn my keep, to keep busy. I’d like to think I’d be missed if I ever moved on.’

  ‘But you won’t, will you?’ Polly asked.

  Howard shook his head. ‘Who knows? If Luke ever gave up farming and Edwin took over, then I might.’

  ‘But surely Uncle Luke won’t?’ Rosalie said. ‘He’s rooted here.’

  ‘So he is,’ he said,
but he raised his eyebrows as if he had reservations about his answer.

  Before turning for home, he took them to see the Falling Foss waterfall, cascading and glinting like silver as it fell. The flow was swift after the winter snow and it frothed and gurgled over the rocks below.

  When they arrived back in the yard, Edwin came out of one of the stables. On seeing them he carefully closed the door behind him and stood with his back to it, folding his arms in front of him.

  ‘Been out, Edwin?’ Howard asked.

  ‘No,’ he said abruptly. ‘Just checking round, making sure everything is all right.’

  Howard frowned. ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’

  ‘Oh, Sam’s out. I sent him on an errand and Amos has gone to Scarborough to fetch Clemmie.’

  ‘Oh! Does she know?’

  Edwin gave a thin smile. ‘She’ll know when he turns up at the door.’

  Howard shrugged as if to say that it was nothing to do with him, but Polly and Rosalie noticed the frown as he turned away and both saw how the scar on his cheek had reddened.

  When they had changed from their outdoor clothes they came down to sit by the fire in the drawing room. It was an hour before midday and they were both ready for a hot drink after their outing. Rosalie rang the bell and Mrs Moody came in answer to it. She folded her hands in front of her and said, ‘Yes, miss. What can I get for you?’

  ‘Coffee, please, Mrs Moody,’ Rosalie said. ‘Isn’t Dora here?’

  ‘I’ve sent her upstairs to change before dinner,’ she said sharply. ‘Mr Edwin asked her to go and tell Sam he wanted him and she came back ages later, looking an absolute disgrace.’

  Polly heaved a breath as the housekeeper went out of the room. ‘Hope she wasn’t caught rolling in the hay with Sam,’ she whispered.

  ‘Polly!’ Rosalie was scandalized. ‘Don’t think such a thing. You know what Dora said – she’d be sent packing if she was found out.’

  ‘Mm,’ Polly said. ‘But Edwin told us that he’d sent Sam out on an errand, so why did he ask Dora to go and look for him?’

  Rosalie lifted her shoulders resignedly and whispered, ‘Who knows why Cousin Edwin does what he does? He’s a law unto himself, I should say.’ She lowered her voice even further. ‘I can’t imagine that I would ever become fond of him.’

  Luke came into the room and Rosalie rang the bell again for more coffee for him. Dora answered the call. She was red-faced and anxious and glanced nervously at Mr Kingston when he asked her to tell Amos to saddle up a horse as he had to go out.

  ‘Amos has gone to Scarborough, sir. To fetch Miss Clementina.’

  ‘Fetch her?’ He looked puzzled. ‘Isn’t she here?’ He looked blankly at Rosalie and Polly. ‘Oh! Of course she isn’t. Did someone write to her?’

  They both shook their heads. How could they? They didn’t know where she was.

  ‘Very remiss of me,’ he muttered when Dora went out. ‘I’m so forgetful sometimes. Having two young ladies here made me forget about my own daughter. But who told Amos to fetch her?’

  ‘I believe that Edwin might have done, Uncle Luke,’ Rosalie ventured. ‘We saw him earlier and he mentioned where Amos had gone.’

  Luke drew in a breath. ‘Clemmie will not be pleased. I should have written. She likes at least a week to prepare, and Amos will not like to wait!’ He sighed. ‘I wish that Edwin wouldn’t— never mind. I can saddle up my own horse.’ He glanced at them. ‘I’m going out now and might not be back until the morning. Would you tell Mrs Moody I won’t wait for dinner?’

  ‘Of course,’ Rosalie said. ‘And when Clementina comes home?’

  ‘Ah!’ He seemed to reconsider. ‘Well, erm, give her my apologies and tell her I’ll be back tomorrow. Would you, erm, would you also tell Mrs Moody that I will be bringing a guest home with me, so would she please prepare a room.’

  ‘Odd,’ Polly said after he had gone. Through the window, they saw him ride away. ‘If it wasn’t that he was too old, I’d have said he had an engagement – with a lady!’

  ‘He’s not too old,’ Rosalie said. ‘He can’t be more than late forties, and men can marry quite late in life. And he’s still handsome, don’t you think?’

  Polly agreed that he was. ‘And a good catch for some lucky lady,’ she added. ‘I don’t mean for his wealth, if he has any, but because he’s very agreeable. So, I wonder who it might be, and if he has told his son and daughter?’

  Rosalie laughed. ‘We now know how people up here spend their long winters: they speculate on romance and who is doing what!’

  ‘Mm,’ Polly said. ‘And I’m going to speculate that when you tell dear Mrs Moody that Mr Kingston is bringing a guest home, she will not be pleased!’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  As Polly had predicted, the housekeeper was not pleased to hear that Mr Kingston would not be in for his midday meal or that a guest would be arriving the next day. She humphed disgruntledly and muttered that ‘Maister should have informed her himself’.

  Rosalie merely raised her eyebrows in her direction and said nothing, and Polly pondered that here was the difference in breeding between herself and Rosalie. I’d have told her it was nowt to do wi’ her, she thought. Just because she’s been here for ever doesn’t mean she has to know all that’s going on in ‘household.

  ‘Did Maister say the name of the gentleman he’s bringing?’ Mrs Moody asked. ‘If it’s one of his shooting friends I know where to put ’em.’

  Rosalie drew herself up and looked askance at her. ‘I am not privy to Mr Kingston’s affairs, Mrs Moody,’ she answered coldly, ‘so I cannot say. Perhaps Miss Clementina will be able to tell you when she arrives home.’

  Mrs Moody stared open-mouthed. ‘Miss Clementina’s coming home as well? In time for dinner? Or supper?’ She heaved a breath when Rosalie shook her head and answered that she didn’t know. ‘Well I never! Scuse me, miss.’ She gave a cursory nod of her head as she departed. ‘It seems like I’ll have all on to get the rooms ready.’

  Rosalie tapped her fingers to her mouth and murmured, ‘It seems like the cat’s amongst the pigeons.’

  ‘I hope she doesn’t take it out on Dora or ’other maids,’ Polly said. ‘But I bet she does.’

  Rosalie, Polly, Howard and Edwin were finishing supper when they heard the wheels of the carriage on the drive. Edwin got up and went into the hall and Howard rose from his chair and stood with one hand on the mantelpiece. He glanced at the girls and gave a wry smile.

  ‘Now for it,’ he said in a low voice. ‘You are about to meet your other cousin.’

  Rosalie and Polly rose from the table as the door opened and a tall, broad-shouldered and handsome young woman entered. Clementina was dark-haired like Edwin, but whereas he was pale and thin-faced, she was chubby-cheeked and had a rosy complexion. She looked from the two young ladies to Howard and then over her shoulder at Edwin.

  Rosalie and Polly both dipped their knee but Clementina just gazed blankly at them. Behind her Edwin grinned. ‘Told you there was a surprise waiting for you, didn’t I, Clem?’

  ‘Don’t call me Clem,’ she snapped. ‘You know I don’t like it.’ She undid the cord which fastened her cloak and threw the garment on to the sofa, from where it slid on to the floor. ‘Where’s Papa?’

  Howard stepped forward. ‘Clementina, may I present your cousin, Rosalie Kingston, and her friend Miss Parker? I’m not sure if your father told you that they were coming!’

  Clementina gave a perfunctory dip. ‘No, he did not. How do you do? Have you been here long?’ She threw herself into a chair, her voluminous green gown billowing about her. Rosalie and Polly sat down too. ‘I didn’t know I had any more cousins. Did you, Edwin?’

  ‘Father told me the day before they arrived,’ Edwin drawled. ‘Whilst you were away,’ he added.

  ‘Papa is hopeless!’ she sighed. ‘Nor did he write to say that I was to come home today. I was quite prepared to stay at least another week. I couldn’t believe it when Amos turned up at
dinner time and the maid had to start packing my things.’

  Rosalie and Polly cast a glance at each other and waited for Edwin to say that he had sent Amos. But he did not.

  ‘Forgetfulness seems to be a trait which runs in families,’ Rosalie murmured. ‘I did not even know that I had cousins until my father informed me that arrangements had been made for me to come here to live.’

  Clementina looked astonished. ‘To live? Why – where is your mother?’

  Rosalie’s eyes filled with tears. ‘She died at Christmas.’

  ‘Oh. Sorry,’ Clementina said, and it seemed that she was, for her harsh expression softened. Then she said. ‘But to live? You mean for good?’

  Rosalie pressed her lips together. ‘I believe that was my father’s intention.’ But he was rather vague about it, she thought, and he hasn’t written to ask how I’m settling in or if I’m happy here.

  Clementina’s gaze went to Polly. ‘And – Miss Parkin, is it? Have you come to live with us too?’

  ‘Parker,’ Polly corrected her. ‘Polly Parker. I’m an orphan and am Rosalie’s friend. Your father has kindly invited me to stay.’

  ‘Has he?’ Clementina pursed her mouth. ‘I wish he’d told us. I wonder if he told Moody! I would think he probably forgot. Where is he, by the way?’

  Rosalie hesitated, waiting to see if Edwin or Howard would offer any information, but neither did and she surmised that perhaps they didn’t know that Luke Kingston had gone out.

  ‘He went out this morning,’ she told Clementina. ‘And said that he wouldn’t be home until the morning. He also said to tell you that he’s sorry not to be here when you returned. I don’t think he realized that you’d be home today,’ she added rather slyly.

 

‹ Prev