Stay with Me

by Jessica Blair

All of a sudden, Lena felt conscience-stricken. Since leaving Weaver Hall she had never given Alistair a thought. And now, here she was, in another man’s arms. She drew back from Peter, a startled expression in her eyes.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked in concern as he tried to hold on to her, but as she pushed him away his voice turned sharp. ‘Does the good doctor, the hero of the hour, come between us?’ he asked.

  Her eyes flared angrily at his tone. She swung on her heel and hurried away.

  Bewildered, he took a step after her then stopped himself. To pursue her now might do more harm than good. He watched her go, filled with dismay. What wouldn’t he give to turn back the clock to the moment before his unwise words? Dejected, he strolled on, wondering how he could put things right with Lena.

  But the opportunity did not arise as other guests engaged them in conversations until their carriage arrived. However hard they tried to act normally, the stilted words they exchanged once sitting inside it were not lost on Greta. A wise head on young shoulders, she realised her scheme to let them be alone had not answered its purpose so, to try to lighten the atmosphere, she talked almost non-stop until they arrived back at Weaver Hall.

  Those who had stayed behind came out to meet them when they saw the carriages and riders approaching. Alistair was quickly beside Lena, eager to know if she had enjoyed herself.

  ‘A splendid day,’ she replied, putting all the enthusiasm she could into her voice and embracing him more ardently than she might otherwise have done in public, aware that her every action was closely observed by Peter.

  ‘I’m so glad,’ returned Alistair. He held out his hand to Peter. ‘Thank you for looking after her,’ he said with an appreciative handshake. ‘And thanks to you too.’ He bowed his head to Greta.

  ‘It was our pleasure,’ said Peter. Turning to Lena he said, ‘Thank you for your pleasant company.’ She saw the sorrow and apology in his eyes and inclined her head in acknowledgement, slipping her arm through Alistair’s.

  Greta tapped on her cousin’s door and stepped inside the room as soon as he opened it. ‘Now what went wrong at Kirkham?’ she demanded. ‘The chaperone left you on your own but it was readily apparent that something had gone amiss.’

  ‘Was it that obvious?’ he asked plaintively.

  ‘To me it was,’ she said impatiently. ‘Others, engrossed in their own affairs, probably didn’t notice anything. Tell me what happened?’

  ‘So, nothing momentous,’ she commented when he had finished. ‘But if you are serious about Lena then you had better put things right with her - and quick. There is a very presentable doctor lurking out there who has the crucial advantage over you: he lives in Whitby.’

  ‘What do I do?’

  ‘Apologise. Tell her you did not mean any discourtesy. Tell her how you feel about her and that you never meant to hurt her feelings. I’ve only known her for the few hours we have been here but I think I am a shrewd judge of my sex and I believe Lena thinks highly of you. Whether it goes beyond that I can’t tell, but I think she is straightforward and respects people who are straightforward with her. Don’t make any excuses; she’ll see through them. If I’m not mistaken, she’ll admire your honesty. From there on I cannot tell you what to do. Only you can decide. The party breaks up tomorrow, remember, you haven’t much time.’

  She started for the door but stopped with her hand on the knob to glance back at him. ‘By the way, I came to a decision after you went for your walk. I’m definitely coming back to Hull. That might be of advantage to you.’ She did not expand on her meaning. She did not need to.

  ‘I had already thought of that when you said you might return.’

  But Peter was unable to secure a private conversation with Lena that evening or the next day. It was with regret and sadness in his heart that he watched her drive away with Alistair on Sunday before he and Greta mounted their horses to ride back to Hull. The next time he would see Lena would be at the launching of the John Carnforth - and who knew what might happen before then?

  ‘You’re quiet, Lena, is there something wrong?’

  She started; Alistair’s expression of concern broke into her confused thoughts. ‘Sorry, I was far away, thinking of the pleasant time we have had at Weaver Hall.’

  He glanced at her and smiled. ‘I’m so glad you enjoyed it. I have no doubt we’ll be asked again, and we’ll have to invite Marcia and Charles to Whitby.’

  His use of ‘we’ jolted her. Was he taking for granted that they had a future together? She found herself bothered by this supposition. At one time, not so long ago, she would have welcomed such a hint in his words. But since then she had met Peter, and now she recalled with regret the look of sadness in his eyes as her carriage had driven away. She wanted to turn back and ask his forgiveness for her overreaction, but that could not be done. Her next chance would be the launching ceremony.

  She tried to talk nonchalantly about what had happened at Weaver Hall and other subjects closer to Alistair’s heart. On reaching New Buildings, he was quickly to the ground to help her from the carriage.

  ‘Hello, you two.’ Looking round they saw Olivia hurrying towards them. ‘Have you had a splendid time?’ she asked, her eyes full of excited enquiry.

  ‘Wonderful,’ replied Alistair.

  ‘And memorable,’ added Lena, feigning equal enthusiasm.

  ‘Where are you off to?’ Alistair asked his sister.

  ‘Window shopping, hoping to find a dress or an idea for one to be made for the ceremony.’

  ‘Oh, my, I’ll have to give that some thought too,’ said Lena.

  ‘I’ll forego my shopping to hear all about Weaver Hall and then we can both go dress hunting tomorrow,’ said Olivia, in such a spirited way that Lena could hardly refuse.

  ‘Very well,’ she agreed. ‘Come in, we can chat over a cup of tea after I have freshened up. Are you coming, Alistair?’

  He gave a small laugh. ‘What! And listen to you two, chattering sixty to the dozen? I’d be better off at home. I’ll see you later.’ He climbed on to the chaise and drove it away.

  Lena and Olivia hurried into the house where, after contacting Mrs Campion to let her know she was back and ordering tea for two, Lena quickly tidied herself and then rejoined Olivia in the drawing-room.

  She soon led Lena into telling her all about Weaver Hall. She hung on every word of description about the house and surrounding countryside, and was even more attentive when it came to the guests and the fashions that had predominated throughout the visit.

  When Lena had told her all, with the exception of the new contact with Peter Hustwick, she asked, ‘Has anything happened in Whitby?’

  Olivia pursed her lips thoughtfully for a moment then shook her head. ‘Nothing out of the ordinary.’

  ‘What about the John Carnforth?’

  ‘On schedule, as far as I know! I see so little of James. He’s very busy, anxious that she will be ready on time.’

  ‘And will she?’

  ‘James talks little about the ship when I do see him, but I’m sure she will be.’

  ‘Good. I would hate anything to go wrong at this stage.’

  ‘So would I. He’s put so much into this, and is determined to make a success of it.’

  ‘And with the first commercial venture for the John Carnforth already lined up, the vessel must be ready on time.’

  ‘That will be a momentous experience for you - launching a ship named after your father?’

  ‘I haven’t been asked to perform the ceremony.’

  ‘You haven’t?’ Olivia did not disguise her surprise and when Lena shook her head, added, ‘Well, I expect you soon will be. And tomorrow we’ll have to see you get an extra-special dress for it.’

  When James came home he showed interest in Lena’s visit to Weaver Hall during their evening meal and was especially pleased to know that Peter Hustwick had been there. He saw any continued contact with the Hull firm as valuable.

  ‘I have Ralph coming in an h
our,’ he told her. ‘There are some details regarding the ceremony that I want to go over with him. We’ll use my study so need not disturb you, unless you care to join us for a glass of Madeira afterwards.’

  ‘That would be pleasant,’ she agreed.

  ‘It will take us about an hour.’

  ‘Join me in the drawing-room when you are finished.’ Maybe her brother would ask her to perform the launching ceremony then?

  But Lena was disappointed. They talked little about the business and she went to bed wondering why he had not yet broached the subject?

  As arranged, Peter arrived in Whitby two days before the ceremony. After finding his way to the Angel and claiming the accommodation that James had booked for him, he enquired the way to Carnforth’s office. He was impressed by what he saw of Whitby as he made his way over the bridge and crossed to the east side. A busy atmosphere emanated from the port, but he could see its differences from Hull. Whereas his home town took advantage of its situation, with the River Hull joining the Humber in flat terrain that encouraged expansion, Whitby was enclosed by high cliffs to either side of the river. But with much activity around the ships at the quays, he realised this port still retained its importance, and from the sounds coming from the shipyards it still did good business building stout ships.

  Entering the building, he was greeted by Ben who escorted him to James’s office. As soon as Peter was announced, James was out of his seat and greeting him with a warm handshake.

  ‘Delighted to see you. I trust you have had a pleasant journey?’

  ‘It went very well, and I thank you for booking me such a splendid room at the Angel.’

  ‘Do sit down. A glass of Madeira?’

  ‘That sounds an excellent idea. Thank you.’ Peter laid his hat and walking stick on an adjacent chair and sat down in the place indicated by James.

  ‘Your father?’ he asked as he poured two glasses. ‘Have you left him at the Angel?’

  ‘He is not with me. Sadly he is not well and thus unable to travel.’

  ‘Nothing serious, I hope?’ enquired James in concern as he handed a glass to his guest and resumed his own seat.

  ‘No, no,’ Peter replied, giving a little shake of his head. ‘Father will overindulge and you know the result. I keep telling him he over imbibes but he takes no notice. It’s one of his pleasures.’

  ‘I’m sorry he isn’t here but it is good to have you. It would not have been quite the same if there had been no Hustwick present when John Carnforth takes to the water for the first time.’

  ‘It is a privilege for me.’

  ‘Good.’ James raised his glass. ‘Here’s to our continued co-operation.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘Now, you are dining with us at home this evening. As you don’t know Whitby, I think it might be wise if I walk with you from the Angel and show you the best way.’

  ‘Splendid. But can you spare the time?’

  ‘Oh, yes! Everything is in hand and Ralph is competent enough to see to anything that arises now. I’ll introduce you on the way out. Besides, it will give me the opportunity to collect some papers from home for him. I forgot them earlier today. I was going to have to go back for them so I’ll kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.’

  They finished their wine and he took Peter to the next room along the corridor.

  ‘Ralph Bell, my manager and trusted friend,’ James announced, ‘Knows more about this firm than I.’

  ‘James belittles his knowledge,’ said Ralph. ‘He has a very shrewd brain for business.’

  ‘But you can often see further beneath the surface than I.’

  ‘It sounds as if you make a good team, one of whom competitors would do well to be wary,’ observed Peter. ‘I hope we never become rivals.’

  ‘I’m sure we won’t,’ said James.

  ‘We had a good teacher in James’s father,’ Ralph explained. ‘He employed me as a youngster and I will ever be grateful to him for that. James and I more or less served under him together. He taught us all we know.’

  ‘Ralph, I’m going to show Peter the way from the Angel to New Buildings. I’ll return with those papers I forgot earlier,’ said James, starting for the door.

  ‘Very well,’ said Ralph, and wished Peter a pleasant stay in Whitby.

  ‘Ralph seems a very likeable person and I would surmise you are very fortunate in having him working for you,’ observed Peter as they walked towards the bridge.

  ‘Indeed I am. I make it worth his while to stay with me too.’

  ‘A wise move.’

  ‘If ever I expand, I will give him more responsibility and he knows that.’

  As they made their way to New Buildings James pointed out landmarks and praised Whitby’s many amenities. ‘But,’ he finished as they turned into New Buildings, ‘I realise there is greater potential in Hull, with its ease of access and facilities for expansion.’

  ‘True,’ agreed Peter, ‘but there is something to be said for compactness, especially for anyone who is content with the way his firm is situated and has no further wish to expand.’

  It was a debatable point and James did not want to reveal anything remotely connected to his own ambitions. So he was glad that at this point he was able to say, ‘Here we are.’ He stopped at a gate giving access to a path that divided into two, with each side running alongside the garden to steps at either end of a stone veranda. He led the way through the front door to an imposing hall.

  James crossed to a door on the right. Peter laid his hat on a small table, leaned his stick against it and waited. He felt his heart quicken when he heard James say, ‘I’ve brought someone to see you.’ He stood aside then, a signal for Peter to enter the room before him.

  ‘Miss Carnforth, what a delight to see you.’ The sincerity in Peter’s voice was not lost on her.

  ‘And you,’ Lena replied automatically as he came forward to take her proffered hand. He took it and raised it to his lips but kept his eyes intent on hers, trying to read her true reaction.

  Lena had imagined this meeting many times since learning that James had invited Peter to dine with them this evening, but she had not anticipated it would occur before his arrival for the meal. Now, when she asked if they would both take tea, she found the scenario taking an unexpected turn when Peter accepted but her brother said, ‘I can’t stay, Lena, I have some papers to take back to Ralph.’ He was heading for the door as he said, ‘You’ll be able to find your own way, Peter?’

  ‘Of course! You have been an attentive guide.’

  ‘Good. See you this evening.’

  As the door clicked shut Lena and Peter spoke as one.

  ‘Mr Hustwick . . .’

  ‘Miss Carnforth . . .’

  He was the quicker to recover. ‘I have been troubled ever since leaving Weaver Hall. I apologise most sincerely for what I said to you, and the way I said it. I hope in your heart you will see a way to forgive me? I meant no harm by it; I am sorry to say it reflected jealousy, for which I am extremely embarrassed. I beg . . .’

  Lena held up her hand to stop him. ‘Say no more, Mr Hustwick. I should apologise to you for reacting so suddenly and not taking care to consider your words fully. As soon as I had reconsidered them, I was urged to ask forgiveness but sadly the opportunity never arose. I thought maybe it never would but now it has.’

  ‘Miss Carnforth,’ he said, moving quickly as she left a momentary pause, ‘I am thankful we have been given this chance to be alone and make our peace. Please let us say no more about the matter. It is a thing of the past and should be erased from our memories. Say you can do that and let us begin again?’

  ‘That is my wish too.’

  ‘Then I am content.’

  ‘Very good, Mr Hustwick. Let me ring for tea.’ Lena rose to her feet.

  He stopped her. ‘At Weaver Hall, formality was cast aside. May we continue in that vein?’

  ‘Of course, Peter. It will recall pleasant times.’ With her heart be
ating a little faster, Lena went to the bell-pull.

  He watched her with admiring eyes, hoping there would be only the three of them at dinner this evening. He definitely did not want the doctor’s company. As she turned back to resume her seat, his cousin’s words were ringing in Peter’s ears.

  Within a few minutes tea was being served and their conversation drifted idly over a variety of topics until he said, ‘Lena, I meant what I said about taking you on the river and also to the races. It would be an honour to do so.’

  ‘I thank you for your most generous offer but a chaperone . . .’

  ‘My cousin Greta. She is moving to Hull and has offered you accommodation whenever you choose to come.’

  Lena allowed an amused smile to appear. ‘And then she’ll absent herself conveniently, as she did at Weaver Hall?’

  Peter felt his face redden. ‘You noticed?’

  ‘Well, it seemed a little obvious, though I welcomed it.’

  ‘You did?’

  She nodded and looked down a moment. ‘I wanted to get to know you better.’

  ‘And you did, but only the worst side of me.’

  She raised her hand. ‘We are not to speak of that. I did see much to admire in you.’

  ‘And I in you. Lena, I cannot hold back any longer. Your image has haunted me every day since I last saw you.’ Her ears were ringing, her heart pounding. A cautionary voice told her to stop this, but a more adventurous one urged her not to. ‘I cannot go on like this, Lena, I cannot be tormented any longer. Please be my wife? Please marry me?’

  Pleasure swept through her but her ears had not yet fully grasped what was happening. Oh, she had considered the possibility, but had dismissed it as unlikely. Now here it was, confronting her. A decision was being thrust upon her. But there was Alistair to consider. He had always been the most likely choice. She needed to escape. Time to think.

  ‘Peter, I’m flattered, but this is most unexpected. I do need time.’

  The desire to press her for a decision was strong. There was the doctor . . . but to err now could easily ruin his chances. One wrong word from him and his whole world could collapse.