Charlotte laughed. She couldn’t imagine what the great secret was or what wonderful surprise was in store for her. But she was content to wait. There were so many other things to interest and delight her.
For a start, her aunt insisted on a trip to Lincoln, where she swept her into one of the main department stores in the city. There she bought dresses, coats, hats, shoes and even two handbags.
‘Now, you really should have your hair cut into an Eton crop. It’s the very latest fashion for the young. And you have such a well-shaped head, it would suit you to perfection.’
But here Charlotte stood firm. ‘Aunt, it’s very kind of you, but I really don’t want my hair cut short.’ Not to seem ungrateful, she added, ‘But what I would like is for a hairdresser to show me how to put my hair up into an elegant style.’
‘If that’s what you want, my dear, then that’s what we’ll do.’
The hairdresser was delighted. ‘It’s a while since I had the chance to put up long hair. And yours is lovely, Miss Crawford. You’ve kept it in wonderful condition. Now . . .’
For the next hour or so, Charlotte’s hair was washed, trimmed and styled into the most elegant chignon she had ever seen and the hairdresser was kind enough to give her tips as to how she could achieve it for herself.
‘My dear, you look wonderful,’ Euphemia enthused.
‘Whatever will Father say?’ Charlotte murmured as she regarded her new self in the mirror. But Euphemia brushed her fears aside and led her eagerly to the next department. ‘And now you must learn to use cosmetics. Discreetly, of course, my dear. Ah, now, here’s the lovely April, who’s going to show you what to do. April, this is my niece – the one I was telling you about.’
So, Charlotte thought, amused but not offended. This has all been planned.
When, at last, Charlotte emerged from the store, she didn’t recognize the reflection of herself in the plate-glass window. The fashionable, pretty young woman, who stared back at her, was a stranger.
‘My dear girl, you look adorable. Doesn’t she, Percy?’
Her uncle nodded and smiled benignly. ‘Adorable, my dear. Absolutely adorable. She’ll have young men queueing at the door of Buckthorn Farm now.’
Charlotte laughed and pulled a face. ‘I hope not. Father would have a seizure.’ Her expression sobered. She knew he was going to be very angry with her for what she’d already done. She had no wish to make her father ill, but at almost twenty-seven, it was high time she stood on her own two feet.
‘And tonight we’re staying in a hotel here in the city and going to the theatre,’ Euphemia went on. ‘Then tomorrow, we must go home and pack all these lovely new clothes for our trip to Derbyshire.’
‘You have been so generous, Aunt, but I can’t let you pay for all this. You must let me—’
Euphemia flapped her hands. ‘Nonsense, my dear. Besides, if I’m not mistaken, it’s your birthday next week, isn’t it? Just call it an early birthday present. It’s wonderful to have someone to spoil, isn’t it, Percy?’ Her face clouded as she added sorrowfully, ‘We’ve never had the chance before, have we?’
Percy shook his head. ‘Sadly, no, my dear. We were not blessed with children, you see. And my darling Euphemia would have loved a daughter to spoil.’
‘A daughter? You’d’ve liked a daughter?’ Charlotte couldn’t keep the surprise from her tone.
‘Most certainly,’ Percy said.
‘But – but wouldn’t you have wanted a son?’ she asked him.
He wrinkled his forehead as he considered the question. ‘Not particularly. You know the old saying, “A son is a son till he takes him a wife; a daughter is a daughter all of her life.” ’
‘I – I’ve never heard that.’
‘Har-humph,’ Percy said, stroking his moustache. ‘Haven’t you, my dear? But more to the point, neither has your father, I suspect. More’s the pity.’ He turned to his wife. ‘And now, let’s book into the hotel and then I’ll leave you two ladies to try on all these fripperies.’ But his eyes were twinkling as he said it. ‘I shall go for a walk up the hill to have a look at that magnificent cathedral.’
Charlotte had never been to the theatre, had never seen people acting out a story on stage. She’d read all her life; it had always been one of her greatest pleasures to lose herself in another world and escape from the loneliness of her own life shut away from all society at Buckthorn Farm except for Mary and Edward. But now, a whole new world was opening up to her. But with it came the bitter knowledge of just how deep her father’s cruelty had been.
The following morning they returned home to pack for their trip to Derbyshire, which began the following day.
They stayed at a hotel in the centre of Bakewell. Charlotte sat at the window of her room looking out on the streets below. At this time of the year, the town was quiet, but she imagined it would be a popular place for visitors during the summer months.
At dinner that evening, Euphemia seemed unsettled. But it was a kind of scarcely suppressed excitement. She toyed with her food and kept glancing at the long-case clock standing in the corner, solemnly ticking away the hours. After a while her glances were directed towards the door, as if she was expecting someone.
As they left the dining room, she linked her arm through Charlotte’s. ‘My dear, do you remember that when I proposed this visit to Derbyshire, I promised a surprise for you? A nice surprise, of course.’
‘I do, Aunt. But I thought that it was perhaps all the beautiful clothes you’ve bought for me. I can’t begin to thank you—’
‘No, no, child, that wasn’t it.’ Euphemia chafed her bottom lip nervously.
‘Then – what?’ Charlotte asked.
‘Let’s go into the lounge and then I’ll explain.’
There were one or two other guests there, but they found a quiet corner where they wouldn’t be overheard. Percy hovered in the hallway, pretending, Charlotte was sure, to find a painting hanging there fascinating.
‘Now, I must have your solemn promise that you will never, ever, tell your father.’
Charlotte stared at her. ‘What about? The – the clothes, you mean?’
‘No – no, not all that. That’s not it at all.’ Euphemia flapped her hands and glanced nervously at the door leading into the hall.
Charlotte followed her gaze and saw Percy greeting a woman who’d just come into the hotel by the main entrance. He was kissing her on both cheeks. A tall, dark-haired woman, dressed fashionably, with a lovely face and . . . As the woman turned and began to walk towards the lounge, Charlotte felt the room spin. She reached out and clutched at Euphemia for support.
No, no, it couldn’t be . . .
But the woman was coming towards her, her arms outstretched, tears in her fine violet eyes. ‘My darling girl . . .’
Charlotte stared at her, her head whirling and then everything went black.
Thirty-Nine
She thought she was in her own bed, at home at Buckthorn Farm, yet there were people bending over her, someone was cradling her head and trying to get her to drink something. She groaned and heard a strange voice say, ‘She’s coming round. Oh, thank goodness! We shouldn’t have sprung such a surprise on her, Euphemia.’
‘She’ll be all right. She’ll be fine and so happy to see you. She must have so longed all these years to find you.’ Euphemia patted Charlotte’s hand. ‘Now, come along my dear.’
Charlotte opened her eyes and slowly pulled herself up. The stranger was still holding her, her arm about Charlotte’s shoulders. Slowly, Charlotte turned to look into the woman’s face and found it was like looking into an older version of her own. But this woman was beautiful; she was skilfully made up, wore lovely clothes, and had her hair professionally cut and styled.
‘But – but you’re dead!’ Charlotte blurted out. She was still not thinking rationally. ‘I must be dreaming.’ She closed her eyes momentarily and then opened them again, but the woman – her mother – was still there, in the flesh, smi
ling at her.
‘No, my love, I’m here. I’m really here.’ Her eyes clouded with concern. ‘Are you all right? I’m so sorry, we shouldn’t have done that. Euphemia should have told you gently before I arrived.’
‘You know me, Alice.’ Euphemia flapped her hands. ‘I would have blurted it out and it would have been just as much of a shock for the poor girl. I’m like a bull at a gate – Percy always says so.’ She peered at Charlotte. ‘The colour’s coming back to her cheeks. She’ll be all right in a moment.’ She turned and summoned a hovering waiter. ‘Another brandy, if you please?’
‘No – no, Aunt, I’ll be all right now.’
‘Oh, it’s not for you. It’s for me!’ Euphemia said comically and patted her chest dramatically.
Charlotte turned towards her mother. ‘I – can’t believe it. Is it really you? All these years, I thought you were dead.’
‘Dead!’ Euphemia and Alice spoke together and Percy, standing close by, frowned. Charlotte’s earlier words had not registered with any of them.
‘Your – your grave’s in the churchyard at Ravensfleet. I put flowers on it every week. But father doesn’t know,’ she added swiftly.
‘Well, I don’t know whose grave you’ve been tending all these years, but it isn’t mine, my darling.’
Slowly, Charlotte shook her head, completely mystified. ‘I don’t understand.’
Euphemia and Alice exchanged a glance. ‘No,’ the latter murmured. ‘And neither do we.’
When Charlotte was feeling quite well again, though her mind was still reeling from the shock, they began to talk.
‘What happened?’ she asked. ‘I want to know. Tell me everything. Right from the beginning.’
‘The beginning? You mean, how I met your father and married him?’
‘Yes, everything.’
Alice’s eyes darkened as she was forced to relive her memories, memories that perhaps she would rather forget. ‘I – I don’t know how much you know already.’
‘I know nothing. My only memories of you are fleeting, just vague pictures and – and then the day of your funeral.’ Charlotte shook her head in total bewilderment. ‘I still can’t believe all this. I mean – I know I was only five, but I watched the funeral procession leave the house – my father and all the men walking behind the horse-drawn hearse. I was watching from an upstairs window with Mary—’
‘Mary,’ Alice cried, ‘is she still with you? She promised she would always take care of you. She and Edward – oh my dear, what is it?’
‘Mary,’ Charlotte whispered. ‘Mary – and Edward? They knew that you were still alive?’
Alice took hold of her cold hands and held them tightly, chafing them to warm them. ‘Darling, you must believe me, I know nothing of what happened after I left.’
‘Left? You left Father and – and me?’
At this, Alice’s face crumpled. ‘My darling, you don’t know how difficult it was. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my whole life. To leave you – my precious daughter, but I—’ She closed her eyes and swayed slightly. When she opened them again, they were brimming with tears.
‘Your father,’ Euphemia stepped in, ‘my dear brother,’ her tone was hard and bitter, suddenly totally unlike the gregarious, generous-spirited and jolly person Charlotte had come to know, ‘was Cruelty personified. Alice had no choice but to leave him. He’d probably have killed her if she’d stayed.’
Charlotte drew in a sharp breath. ‘He – he hit you?’
Alice bit her lip and nodded. ‘Has he ever hit you?’
Charlotte nodded. ‘A few times, but Mary or Edward stepped in whenever they could. When he got in a temper, I’d lock myself in my bedroom until he’d calmed down. I learned to see when one of his black moods was coming.’ She didn’t tell them about the recent whacks with his stick that, to her shame, everyone knew about.
Alice groaned. ‘I’m so sorry. I never thought he’d beat you. I – I thought it was just me. Because – because I couldn’t bear him a son.’
Charlotte smiled wryly. ‘I expect it was because I’m the daughter he never wanted,’ she said matter-of-factly without self-pity.
Alice was still shaking her head in disbelief, guilt etched on her face.
‘But why?’ Euphemia couldn’t believe what she was hearing either, even though she thought she knew her brother better than anyone. ‘Even I didn’t think he’d stoop so low. I mean, how’s he kept it secret all these years?’
‘Easily,’ Alice said flatly. ‘When I left, he threatened me that if I ever tried to contact Charlotte he’d kill me. I was frightened enough of him by that time to believe him. And besides, I thought it was perhaps best for you, darling, if I went out of your life for good. I thought the dreadful rows would stop and that perhaps he’d be kind to you.’
Euphemia snorted but it was Charlotte who said thoughtfully, ‘To be honest, until recently, I never questioned my life. There were times, of course, when I wondered why I was never allowed to have friends, never allowed to attend school. I had a governess until I was fifteen. The only people I knew were on the farm, but even then I was never allowed to mix socially with them.’ She gave a wry laugh. ‘I only attended my first harvest supper last year because – ’ She paused. She couldn’t explain all that now, so she ended with the words, ‘And that caused a lot of trouble.’
Charlotte looked into her mother’s troubled face and said softly, ‘Don’t look like that. I just want to know what happened. I’m not blaming you, I promise.’
‘Perhaps you should,’ Alice said quietly. ‘I should have been braver, stood up for myself more, but his cruelty had worn me down. I’d had three miscarriages – all boys. And when I lost the last one, when you were two, it just seemed to tip him over the edge. The mental cruelty was worse – far worse – than the physical abuse. I stayed for three more years, but I could bear no more. I was ill and desperate, but I should have taken you with me. I see that now. I should have run away in the night without him knowing, but I always thought he’d hunt me down and snatch you back.’
‘I’m sure he would have done,’ Charlotte agreed. ‘Not because he wanted me, but out of spite.’ She paused then asked, ‘So where did you go?’
Alice took a deep breath. ‘Let me tell you it all from the beginning. I met your father Osbert through our fathers. We lived in Boston – my father was a potato merchant. He came into contact with the Crawford family through business and I suppose it was what you would call an arranged marriage. My father was very strict – a real Victorian father – and he chose Osbert for me.’
Euphemia snorted and said dryly, ‘Just like my father tried to do for me, only it didn’t work.’ She reached out and took Percy’s hand, glancing up at him. He smiled benignly and patted her hand. Then he sat down beside her, making himself comfortable.
‘Osbert was charming when he was paying court to me, generous and attentive. And – if I’m to be fair and I do want to be – in the first years of our marriage, everything was fine. But after the miscarriages, when I couldn’t give him a boy, he changed. He blamed me and became obsessed with wanting a son.’ Her voice quavered as she gripped Charlotte’s hand tightly. ‘He hardly took any notice of you. He resented you, I could see that. I suggested to him that he should divorce me and marry someone who could give him a son. I promised we – you and I – would live quietly and be no trouble to him. But he was vitriolic. “But you’ll want keeping,” he said. “You’ll want my money. You’ll drain all my future son’s inheritance.”’ Tears ran down Alice’s face and gently Charlotte wiped them away with her handkerchief.
‘Don’t cry, Mama.’ The name she had called her mother in childhood came back to her and, hearing it, Alice cried all the more. She held out her arms and after so many years of separation mother and daughter hugged each other. After a few moments, Alice continued her tale.
‘So – I thought that if I left him, he’d have grounds for divorce and he’d know that I’d make no dem
ands on him, except that he should look after you. I always made sure his solicitor had my address, but no word ever came.’ She looked questioningly at Charlotte, who shrugged and said, ‘As far as I know, there’s never been anyone else. For the first few years, he ran the farm but as soon as I was old enough, I had to work outside. Then as I got older, gradually he handed over more and more of the day-to-day running of the farm to me. Now I do everything.’
‘You run the farm?’ Alice was surprised but then, suddenly, she smiled. ‘So, he’s training you up to take it over one day. He does intend—’ She stopped abruptly as she saw Charlotte shaking her head.
‘Oh no, I’m not to inherit Buckthorn Farm. He’s going to make a will and name Philip Thornton as his heir. He intends to leave me penniless.’
Forty
‘Who is Philip Thornton?’
Swiftly, Charlotte explained.
‘Your father intends to leave everything to complete strangers?’ Percy asked. ‘The man’s lost his reason.’
‘And all because I couldn’t give him a son,’ Alice said tremulously.
There was silence between them until Charlotte asked her mother, ‘But where have you been all these years? Did you go home to your family? Your parents?’
Alice smiled wryly and shook her head. ‘My father would have sent me back. No.’ She glanced at Euphemia and Percy. ‘Strange as it may seem, I went to my sister-in-law for help.’
‘She’s been with us ever since. She’s been everywhere with us. My dear, dear friend and confidante all these years.’ Euphemia smiled at Alice. ‘Percy was very ill a few years ago and I don’t think we’d have got through it without your mother’s help.’
‘Strange, isn’t it?’ Alice said. ‘You’d think the one person in the world who wouldn’t want to know me would be the sister of the man I was leaving.’
‘Huh! I knew my brother. I knew what he’s capable of. At least,’ Euphemia hesitated, ‘I thought I did, but this last – leaving Buckthorn Farm to strangers, out of the Crawford family, just because you’re a girl . . . well, that shocks even me.’
Sons and Daughters Page 25