by Anne Brear
“Yes, they were all interested in the newcomers.”
“I didn’t want it to be so.”
“Nor I.” Sophia dragged a sack of potatoes into the corner. “A quiet life is what I want. It’s been too many years since I last had to pay calls. Mother used to take Winnie and I with her to the most tedious church tea parties. I didn’t like it then and I shan’t like it now. Sometimes there’s a lot to be said for being friendless.” She grinned, hanging a net of onions on a hook suspended from the ceiling beam.
“My confinement will buy us some time.” Aurora placed the last of the jars of preserves on the larder shelf.
“Well, only having two decent dresses to my name, I dare not show my face at anything fancier than a market.”
Aurora sighed. “Don’t speak of clothes. I have nothing that fits and I loathe buying large garments that I will not wear again after the baby is born.”
“We’ll take them in, never mind that.” Sophia studied her. “That isn’t the reason you’ve put off ordering new clothes is it?”
Sitting at the scrubbed kitchen table, Aurora twirled the teapot around in readiness to pour out the tea. “No. Oh, I don’t know. I used to enjoy wearing the latest fashion and purchasing nice materials for the dressmaker to make up, but I did all that with Bettina and Harriet and…”
“And your mother.” Sophia pulled out the next chair and sat down. “You can talk of them, Aurrie.”
“I didn’t want to pain you, or make you think I regret finding you.”
“Winnie is my sister, I love her, ever more so for taking my darling baby and giving you a good home. She saved us both because I know I would have perished, and you too, if she hadn’t taken you. We must talk of them, Aurrie, otherwise we’re not being honest with each other and that could start to cause problems later.”
“Why didn’t you go with them, when they took me?”
“I had to make a clean break and besides, I knew Father would cut Winnie out of his and Mother’s life if she took me in. From what you’ve told me they never really forgave her for taking you.”
“Which is why we didn’t see them hardly at all.”
“It was their choice.” Sophia shrugged. “You must write to your parents again. One letter since you ran away isn’t enough. They’d be worried dreadfully.”
“I will write tonight.”
“Aurrie, Sophia,” Lily came into the kitchen. “A fancy looking fellow has just arrived. He’s talking to Dad out the front.”
Whisking off her apron, Aurora turned to Sophia. “So it begins?”
Sophia groaned. “We’ll need to buy some good china then.”
“And you some dresses.” She laughed and tiding her hair went down the hallway to the front door. Outside on the drive, she walked towards Noah and Jed who were standing talking to a large man with an impressive round stomach. He looked more pregnant than Aurora did and she hid a smile.
“Ah, Aurrie, we have a visitor.” Noah indicated to the smiling man with the florid cheeks. “This is Mr Bart Blackwell from Pecket Well.”
Aurora’s smile threatened to erupt into a wide grin at the man’s name rhyming with his village. She hoped he wasn’t a simpleton.
“How do you do, Madam?” He held out a big meaty hand and clamped down on Aurora’s fingers. With his other hand he doffed his black hat. He wore an elaborate embroidered green waistcoat and his jacket, when flapping open, revealed a lining of dark purple silk beneath. “Bart Blackwell, local councilor, at your service.”
“Good day, sir. Pecket Well? Is that close by?”
“Just down the road, Madam.” He took a step closer. “My home is on the other side of the village, but my businesses are in Hebden Bridge and other nearby towns.”
“Oh, I see.” All humor left her as she sensed something threatening about the man, and took a step back.
“I hear tell you have married Mr Tom Sinclair. Around here we thought of him as a bachelor for life.” His small dark eyes, at such odds with his massive stature, held her stare. “But when faced with such a beauty as yourself why wouldn’t a man want to give up his freedom?”
Aurora cringed. “Indeed, Mr Blackwell. You knew my husband well?”
He thrust his thumbs into the narrow pocket slits in his waistcoat and rocked on his heels. “Not as well as we’d all like, I’m sure. Mr Sinclair was notable because of his appearance a few weeks ago. This farm here has been rented many years and the Sinclairs have been absentee landlords.”
“Perhaps they trusted their tenants and had no need to visit?”
“Pah, that’s no way to run businesses.” He looked her up and down as though she was a prized mare at a horse show.
“I doubt the fortunes of the Sinclairs rested on this one farm, Mr Blackwell.”
“That is as may be, Mrs Sinclair, but I believe the local people deserve to see who it is they work for from time to time. I hope as a member of the family you will now do your share and be a prominent citizen within the district.”
“I own a farm, sir, not a castle. Why on earth would I want to force myself among the local people?”
He frowned and stopped rocking. “Come now, don’t be modest.”
“Modest?”
“Surely your husband has spoken of the influence his family could have in this area?”
Aurora’s mouth went dry. “No, he has not.”
A gleam of satisfaction widened Blackwell’s tiny eyes. “You married the second son, did you not?”
“That’s correct.”
“Then perhaps this is all he has of what the Sinclair’s own in this part of Yorkshire.” He sniffed and drew himself up to his full imposing height. “The Sinclair heir must have the lot of it then.”
She felt the warmth drain from her face. “You know of the-the eldest son?” If he said he knew Reid she’d just die.
“No, not at all. He is like his forbearers and hasn’t shown his face to us.” A look of disgust crossed his broad features.
She sagged in relief. “I am sorry to disappoint you, Mr Blackwell, but I shall not be in the habit of making a presence of myself in the area. I wish for a quiet life.” She was thankful of Sophia’s words coming to help her.
“I am indeed disappointed, Madam. I know I speak for many when I say we had hoped the Sinclair family would concern themselves within this vicinity.”
“But why?”
“Because in some form or another, the Sinclairs either employ or house a good number of people around here.”
“They do?” She felt faint.
“The Sinclair family owns two mills, a glassworks, terraced housing and rent out four shop premises. Apart from this farm, there are another two sheep farms, one beyond Wadsworth Moor and another across the way towards Erringden.”
“You seem to know a great deal about the Sinclair’s, Mr Blackwell.” Noah spoke up, glancing anxiously at Aurora.
“Why I course I do, I make it my business as a councilor of this district council.” He smiled widely and started rocking on his heels again as though waiting for them to gush appropriate comments of his status. His smile soon waned when none were forthcoming.
“I would welcome you inside for refreshment, Mr Blackwell, but we only arrived three days ago and I am afraid the house isn’t in order as yet.” It wasn’t strictly true, but she didn’t feel capable of making polite talk to this man over cups of tea, not today, not after the shock he’d given her.
“Understandable, my dear Mrs Sinclair. I will, however, on behalf of my wife and myself offer you and your family the invitation to dine at our home. I will send my wife over to see you.” He dug out of his pocket his card and handed it to her. “Will Mr Sinclair be returning home soon?”
“My husband is on his way to South Africa. He’s a captain in the army.”
“A fighting man, hey? Capital! If you should be in need of anything, anything at all, Mrs Sinclair, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”
“Thank you, Mr Blackwell.
”
“Until we meet again, Mrs Sinclair.” He bowed to her and touched the brim of his hat to Noah.
They watched him drive his dogcart down the drive in silence. Jed had wondered off to continue the job he and Noah were doing before Blackwell interrupted them.
“Well, Aurrie. What do you make of that?” Noah asked, taking his flat cap off and scratching his gray hair.
“I felt a fool, Noah. I didn’t know any of that. The Sinclairs own so much in this area.”
“To my way of thinking Mr Sinclair should have told you what to expect.”
“It’s a good thing Tom is on his way to Africa, otherwise I wouldn’t be responsible for my actions!”
Noah grinned. “Yes, and he’s not going to suffer dinner at the Blackwell’s either.” He pulled his cap down low. “I’d best get back to chopping wood.”
Aurora returned inside to find Sophia waiting for her in the front sitting room. “Who was he?”
She handed over his card and rubbed her eyes with shaky fingers. “I don’t know what Tom thought he was doing bringing me here.”
“Come, sit down and tell me what happened.”
After Aurora had filled her in on what Blackwell said, she sighed deeply, staring at the low fire nestled in the grate. “Why would Tom send me here, knowing his family owned so much in the area?”
“If Mr Blackwell is correct, the Sinclairs don’t come to Hebden Bridge anyway, so you have nothing to worry about.”
“And what if one day Reid does decide to come and view his properties, what then?”
“You may not ever run into him.”
“And what if I do?”
“You’ll just have to deal with that if or when it happens.”
“I can’t. I can’t live here with that hanging over my head.”
“Don’t be silly. It might never happen. If they haven’t visited before now, I doubt they ever will. And doesn’t Reid spend most of his time in London or America now. Maybe that’s why Tom gave you this house, knowing you wouldn’t meet any Sinclairs here. Perhaps his other houses were in areas that Reid visits.”
The information of the Sinclairs owning a good deal of property around the area made Aurora uneasy for weeks and took the shine off her happiness in the new home. Summer was over for another year and as the gales roared down from the moors and across the open fields of the farm, she waited for replies to her numerous letters she sent Tom. Sophia had talked her out of leaving, which within the first week was all she wanted to do. Staying where Reid might find her was out of the question, but finally commonsense prevailed and she knew she’d be foolish to uproot herself again, especially since she’d not find a home as nice as Briar Rose farm so easily.
Not only that, but people depended on her now. Sophia, Noah and Lily and baby Will, were relying on her for the roof above their heads and food in their mouths. And soon her baby would arrive and she needed to be prepared.
Reid escorted his mother down from the carriage and nodded to Tibbleton, the Pettigrew’s butler, who held the carriage door open for them. “How are things, Tibbleton?”
“Good, thank you, sir.” Tibbleton bowed. “Good day, Madam. The mistress is in the garden, sir, taking tea. If you’d kindly follow me.” He led the way across the drive and onto the manicured lawns.
“Taking tea in the garden? In October? How ridiculous to do such a thing at this time of year,” Julia tutted.
“It is not cold, Mother. The day is very pleasant.” Reid gazed around at the sun-baked garden. Surprisingly the weather had changed again and returned to calm days that still hinted of the summer just gone. It had been many months since his last visit home. The only things that had altered were the seasons. Autumn cooled the night air now and tinted the leaves on the trees colors of amber and gold, crimson and rust, but apart from that everything remained the same, except Aurora wasn’t here or was she? His heart skipped thinking that she might be only yards away.
His mother glared at him. “I don’t wish to take tea.” She lowered her voice. “Why couldn’t we have gone straight home first? I would have called on Winnie tomorrow. It is insensible to call here first when our home is only beyond those trees!”
“I fancied some company and none of our friends know we are back in the country. We haven’t seen the Pettigrews for a long time.” He couldn’t admit aloud that he was tired of his mother’s exhausting presence already and longed for news of Aurora and for some gentler company.
“It could have waited,” she snapped. “There are things at the Hall which need my attention.”
“After being away for months, there is nothing that is so urgent it cannot wait another half hour. Humor me.” He spied Winnie sitting with her daughters at the white wrought iron setting beneath the dappled shade of a beech tree. His stomach lurched painfully when he noticed Aurora was missing from the group. He’d hoped by now she had returned from travelling. How much longer would he have to wait for her? This time he was determined to get some answers from Winnie.
Winnie looked up and Reid saw the flash of anxiety on her features before she carefully schooled her expression into a false smile. Insight told him their company wasn’t wanted and he wondered why. He studied Winnie as she focused on his mother and weariness entered her eyes, or was it wariness? He knew immediately she didn’t like his mother, but good manners made her perform the functionary role of hostess and friend.
“Winnie, my dear, are you mad to sit outside in this weather? You’ll catch your death.”
“Nonsense, Julia.” Winnie accepted Julia’s air kiss beside her cheek and then pulled her shawl closer over her thin shoulders. “We might as well enjoy what is left of the fine weather while we can. I’m tired of sitting indoors day after day. We found this sun trap and intend to use it for an hour before the warmth fades.” She turned to Reid and quickly slipped the letter she held under her green skirt, but not before her saw the writing on it. Aurora’s writing. Bitter rejection filled him. “How are you, Reid. You look in good health after your voyage to New York.”
He bent over her hand. “I am indeed well, Mrs Pettigrew. And you?”
“We are all in fine health. More tea for our guests, please, Tibbleton.” Winnie smiled at the butler. She turned back to Julia, who sat opposite, eyeing the fashion pages Bettina and Harriet were studying. “This is a nice surprise, Julia. I thought you’d stay in London now until next summer, or go to your property in Kent for the winter.”
“Oh, we aren’t staying here long.” Julia adjusted her wide brimmed hat, which overflowed with dark purple feathers and artificial white silk roses. “I no longer find the Northern climate suitable. Also the North is rather dull, don’t you agree? Most of our friends are in London.”
Reid groaned inwardly at his mother’s crassness. Sometimes he wished she wouldn’t open her mouth. He glanced from his mother to Winnie and made comparisons for the first time. Each woman looked exactly as their status required. His mother wore her wealth and breeding like a well-fitted glove. Her lavender gray dress was expensive and her perfume was bought in Paris only last week. A maid had worked for an hour on her hair this morning. Whereas Winnie appeared comfortable as a woman of moderate means and respectability, something about her gave him the impression she didn’t care for nor need the air of sophistication his mother possessed. Her dark green gown had little adornment, her hair was neat and put up, but her shoulders sagged, giving her a look of polite despair.
“Did your trip to America go well, Reid?” Winnie asked.
“Yes, thank you. The travelling can become tiresome, but it is such an interesting place. They have immense developments there. It’s as though the whole country is in a race, competing with each other to be the first at something. Whether it be constructing tall buildings, fancy resorts, the best restaurants, or—”
“Reid is always successful, aren’t you, dear?” His mother cut in and he gave her an irritated stare. Why did she behave as though he was still in short pants and not a
grown man?
“Your hat is very lovely, Mrs Sinclair,” Bettina spoke quietly.
“Thank you, dear girl.” Julia preened like a peacock. “I acquired it in Paris. I’ve just returned from there, you know. They have the most exquisite milliners. They quite overshadow London’s offerings.”
“Why aren’t you still in mourning, Julia?” Winnie asked.
His mother’s eyes narrowed at the slight. “My darling John asked me to not wear them for long and to regain my life as soon as I felt able to. He was always annoyed with our queen for her overwhelming display of widowhood. John begged me not to do the same.” The girls gasped at the comment but Julia carried on unperturbed, smoothing down her skirt of lavender. “This is the first week I have worn color. I couldn’t help myself while I was in Paris. I was rather tired of black after several weeks.”
While Bettina and Harriet drew Julia into fashion discussions, Reid ignored the way his stomach churned at his mother’s lack of respect. His shock at seeing her out of her black mourning only eight weeks after his father’s death had caused them to have words in London and on the journey north. He thought the trip to Paris might have made her see sense and she’d buy some Paris designs for mourning, but the plan had backfired. He didn’t understand his mother, and increasingly he felt the need to distance himself from her. Only, guilt made him admonish these thoughts. He promised his father to watch over the family and so he would.
He leaned closer to Winnie. “I couldn’t help but notice that your letter has Aurora’s writing on it. Is she well? It has been so long since she was home. I would like to write to her, if I may.”
Winnie’s hand slipped the letter further under her skirt, her gaze darting to Julia. “She is extremely well, thank you.”
“Is she returning home soon?” He ached to snatched the letter and run off with it. He missed Aurora beyond words. It was as though half of him was gone, dead. He’d give years off his life for a glimpse of her and felt pathetic.