by Annie Groves
It was almost four o’clock; the last guests had left, and the evening had been declared an outstanding success.
As Ellie made to climb the stairs Connie came hurrying towards her, her face wreathed in an excited smile.
‘Ellie, guess what!’ she demanded. ‘Uncle Parkes has told me that he thinks I’m a very pretty little puss, and he said that he was going to think about having me here to stay on a long visit, as well as to keep you company! Won’t that be wonderful?’
Ellie could feel her heart starting to thud with fear and anxiety. If only Connie were older, or had a different personality, she might be able to confide her fears to her, but she knew her younger sister well enough to realise that that was impossible!
EIGHTEEN
‘You bain’t no proper architect, and I’m telling you now there bain’t no way these drawings of yorn are going to work.’
Scornfully, the builder Mary Isherwood had hired to work on her conservatory threw down Gideon’s plan and walked away from him.
Somehow Gideon managed to control his feelings, although his cheekbones burned with the effort of doing so. The builder had made it plain from the start how he felt about working with Gideon, and now, a week later, Gideon fully reciprocated his hostility and dislike – and with interest.
It shamed him to acknowledge that he would have to tell Miss Isherwood what had happened, and that shame made him feel angrily resentful towards the builder and towards Miss Isherwood herself.
‘What’s wrong, Gideon?’ Mary asked.
They were in her workroom, and Gideon glowered bitterly before telling her tersely, ‘The builder is threatening to walk off the job.’
‘Why?’
‘He says that since I’m not a proper architect he won’t work with me,’ Gideon told her curtly, unable to bring himself to look directly at her.
‘I see.’
‘And he’s right, dammit,’ Gideon burst out savagely. ‘I’m not an architect.’
‘But you wish that you were?’
Gideon stared at Mary, his expression giving away his feelings.
‘Then why don’t you study to become one, Gideon? Think about it,’ she told him, striving to sound casual.
‘It’s impossible,’ Gideon burst out.
Mary’s eyebrows rose. ‘Why?’ she challenged him.
Gideon glared at her in furious pride. Wasn’t it damn well obvious?
‘Anything is possible if you want it to be, Gideon,’ Mary told him softly.
Their eyes met and it was Gideon who looked away first.
What she was suggesting was impossible.
But what if it wasn’t? What if somehow he could? That would show Ellie Pride! Show her and humble her too, right enough, when he was an architect!
Mary waited until Gideon had gone before she unfolded the hands she had clasped together in her lap. They were trembling wildly. Like her whole body. She had promised herself she would not let herself hope like this, that she wouldn’t allow herself to dream impossible dreams, but she had broken those promises, she acknowledged.
She had seen from Gideon’s expression just how much he yearned to follow his dream, and she could make that possible for him, if only he would allow her to do so. Already she had arranged for him to have new premises – and at a peppercorn rent – though this was her secret. She must go carefully and slowly, she warned herself. She must not offend his pride or let him guess…She pressed one trembling hand to her lips. She longed to be able to tell Gideon the truth, but she was afraid of him rejecting her if she did.
‘And there are some more flowers from Mr Charnock, miss…’
Ellie gave Lizzie a wan smile. It was nearly a month since the ball, and Henry Charnock had sent her flowers every single day, as well as asking her aunt if he might call on them.
‘What is it, Miss Ellie? Is something wrong?’ Lizzie asked her in concern.
Ellie felt sharp tears spring to her eyes. Lizzie was the only person who had noticed how unhappy she felt.
‘It’s my sister, Miss Connie, Lizzie,’ Ellie confided, her voice faltering. ‘She – she is most unhappy with our aunt and uncle, and she begged me before she left to ask my aunt if she might come to live here.’ It was very wrong of her to confide like this in a maid, she knew, but she was so worried!
‘It seems to me, miss, that Miss Connie would be best off staying where she is,’ Lizzie told Ellie bluntly.
Silently they exchanged looks, and Ellie knew then that Lizzie understood very well the real cause of her concern.
A little later in the day Ellie had a visit from her cousin Cecily.
‘Our aunt has told me that Mr Henry Charnock is being most attentive towards you, Ellie,’ she commented archly.
‘He has been kind enough to send me flowers,’ Ellie responded sedately, but she felt herself blushing.
‘Do you know what I think, Ellie?’ Cecily asked her, continuing without waiting for Ellie to answer her. ‘I believe that Mr Charnock has fallen in love with you.’
‘Oh, Cecily, I don’t think so. He is merely being polite, that’s all!’ Ellie responded, but she was uncomfortably aware that her aunt had said much the same thing to her, and she had no intention of telling her cousin that, as well as sending her flowers, Henry had called round with another gift for her – a book on Japan, which he had explained earnestly to her was one of his own and which he had thought she would like to read.
She felt no romantic yearnings towards Henry, but she did feel sorry for him.
There was a brief knock on the door and Henry Charnock was shown in.
Cecily immediately got up and announced that she must leave, throwing Ellie a teasingly speaking look as she did so.
‘No, Ellie, no need to see me out. Please stay here and entertain Mr Charnock,’ she announced, before whisking herself out of the door.
‘Would you care for some tea, Mr Charnock?’ Ellie invited politely.
‘No, no, Miss Pride. I do not wish to put you to any trouble, nor to spoil your visit from your cousin. I just called to see if you had read the book I gave you yet, and if you should like to read another one?’
‘I have begun it,’ Ellie told him truthfully, ‘and it is most interesting.’
Immediately Henry’s eyes started to shine, and he launched into an enthusiastic description of the Japanese way of life.
Discreetly Ellie rang for tea, sensing that it would be some time before Henry left.
‘You really are the most wonderful girl, Miss Pride,’ Henry enthused warmly, as he bit hungrily into the delicate sandwiches whilst Ellie poured him a second cup of tea. ‘My father wants me to marry, you know,’ he began, and then stopped, going bright red.
‘Do try some of the plum cake, Mr Charnock,’ Ellie suggested calmly, tactfully ignoring his embarrassment.
Henry was as different from Gideon Walker as it was possible for a man to be, she acknowledged, and then wondered why that knowledge should cause her heart to feel like a lump of stone inside her chest.
‘Well now, puss,’ Mr Parkes addressed Ellie genially, ‘Mrs Parkes tells me that you have an admirer!’
Ellie had been on her own in the drawing room when Mr Parkes had walked in, and now she glanced thankfully towards the still-open door.
‘He will make a good match for you!’ Mr Parkes approved. ‘Although he is not perhaps the strongest of men,’ he added, his expression revealing his contempt for Henry. ‘You will have to see that you do not frighten him, Ellie, for I dare say he is as virginal as you are yourself.’
Ellie stiffened.
‘Why, there is no need for you to look so self-conscious, Ellie. I am your uncle, after all, child! This would be a good marriage for you, as I have already said. I have spoken to Charnock and he is prepared to overlook your father’s station in life.’
Ellie had to clench her hands at her sides to prevent herself from protesting. Her father was a Pride of Preston and good enough to stand up in any man’s company. Or at
least he had been until he had…Ellie tried to push away the memory of the last time she had seen her father.
‘Aye, a good marriage, but I doubt that young Henry will be man enough for you, Ellie.’
Shocked, Ellie wheeled round and almost ran out of the room, covering her hot face with her hands, her uncle’s laughter ringing in her ears. It was wrong that he should speak to her thus, but it was impossible for her to say so to him – or to anyone else!
Upstairs in her room she paced the floor. She felt trapped – weighed down with her fears, her duties, her guilt and her secrets. So much for being true to herself. Her life was getting out of her control and the romantic attentions of Henry were becoming part of the nightmare. Everyone seemed to think she should be delighted and grateful because Henry was showing an interest in her, but how could she marry him when she did not love him? How could she marry him when he was not…Gideon?
Abruptly, Ellie stopped pacing, the colour draining from her face.
No, that was not true! She would not allow it to be true!
John tried not to scream as he felt the thin cane slicing into his bare buttocks. The last time he had been whipped so, he had bitten through his bottom lip in his attempts to stifle his fear and pain, and he knew better than to do that again.
‘That is five strokes for stealing and five for lying about it,’ his uncle said, panting as he wielded the cane with firm vigour.
An hour later John crawled sobbing into his narrow cold bed. Hetty, the maid, had washed his back with salt and water and then rubbed a cream of her own making into the open cuts, and the pain had been numbed a little by the tot of spirits she had given him.
All the boys at Hutton knew about the headmaster’s temper and his savage pleasure in caning them, but they, unlike John, were protected from his cruelty to some extent by the fact that they had parents to complain to and a dormitory to sleep in.
John lived with his aunt and uncle, since his uncle refused to pay for him to have a bed with the others. And his aunt and uncle also saved extra money by insisting that John ate at home with them rather than with his schoolmates. Which was why John had come to steal the bun that had earned him his beating. John was tall and broad for his age, with an appetite to match, but his aunt complained that on a headmaster’s salary she could not be expected to provide huge meals for a lazy boy, and so John was constantly hungry. He had been walking through the kitchen when he had seen the buns, freshly baked for his aunt’s afternoon tea, and he had been unable to resist their temptation. Unfortunately his aunt had come into the kitchen just as he was biting into one, and had set up an angry fuss, sending for his uncle, who had called John a thief and said he had earned a whipping.
Miserably John knuckled his eyes. He considered himself too old to cry; that was for babies and girls.
He heard a small sound and tensed, but it wasn’t his aunt or his uncle who had come into his room, but his little brother.
Philip was walking now and beginning to talk too, and in secret John was teaching him all about Friargate and the life he had had there.
Reaching out, he tugged the little boy onto the bed and held him close for comfort.
‘Gideon.’ Mary approached him, hesitating whilst she considered the best and most productive way of saying what she wanted without alienating him through the fierce pride he wore like armour. ‘I had occasion to visit Manchester last week,’ she began, ‘and whilst I was there I showed your designs for my conservatory to an architect friend of mine.’
Gideon could feel his heart thumping heavily, and there was a raw taste of defensive anxiety in his mouth. He knew what she was going to say. She was going to tell him that she had changed her mind. Rigid with anger, Gideon waited for the blow to fall.
‘He was most impressed with your drawings, Gideon,’ Mary continued. ‘In fact, he was so impressed that he said that he would like to meet you! It seems there could be an opportunity there for you to be articled to him as a sort of apprentice.’
Gideon stared at her in disbelief, unable to comprehend what he had heard.
‘Gideon?’ Mary prompted.
Frowning, he told her bluntly, ‘Apprenticeships cost money, and besides –’
Mary did not allow him to go any further. ‘My friend was very impressed with your work, Gideon,’ she interrupted him. ‘So much so that I am sure he would be prepared to take you on with very little outlay on your behalf, and indeed, I –’
‘No.’ Gideon’s rejection was immediate and harsh, cutting into the eager excitement of Mary’s words. ‘I know you mean it for the best,’ he continued heavily, ‘but it would still be charity.’ His mouth twisted as he looked at Mary. Her face was flushed and there was a look in her eyes, a woman’s look of…
‘Why should you do such a thing for me?’ Gideon demanded hostilely.
‘Why should I not?’ Mary countered evenly. Outwardly she might look controlled, but inwardly she was not. She was deliberately deceiving Gideon, withholding information from him! She was afraid that otherwise he would start to press on her questions she could not allow herself to answer.
The look Miss Isherwood was giving him now was cool and slightly distant, the regard of a lady for a mere tradesman, Gideon recognised. And, of course, the well-to-do were a law unto themselves.
‘It would involve a great deal of hard work and even sacrifice on your part, Gideon. My friend has been kind enough to give me a list of books which he recommends you read prior to meeting him.’ Mary prayed that Gideon wouldn’t sense her ulterior motives. ‘He has to go away on business for some weeks, but once he returns he wishes to see you.’
‘Books?’
‘Yes, indeed. There is a very long list, I’m afraid, but, as I have already said, Gideon, I am prepared to help you with the expense of your training. You will need somewhere to study, of course, but there is no reason on earth why you should not study here and make use of the library. I certainly never use it, and, for all his faults, my father was an extremely learned man.’
‘You mean you’ll take me as a charity case?’ Gideon demanded truculently.
Immediately Mary recognised her error. That pride of his! ‘If I wanted to do good works, Gideon, I’m sure I could employ myself far better visiting the poor than by trying to assist a certain very stubborn young man to make something of himself!’ she responded tartly.
‘There’s any number you could do that for,’ Gideon persisted. ‘Why should you choose me?’
Mary could feel the furious betraying race of her heart, and she prayed that Gideon might not notice her agitation.
‘I can see that you have talent, Gideon, and the kind of stubborn determination you will need if you are to achieve your ambitions,’ Mary told him drily. ‘But the choice and the decision are yours. Indeed, if you are foolish enough to let your unwarranted suspicion and stubborn pride prevent you from accepting my offer, then perhaps I was wrong about you after all.’
Now there was a certain haughtiness in Mary’s voice that checked Gideon. He was suspicious about her offer. Life had taught him to be!
‘I dunno why you should do such a thing,’ he protested, shaking his head.
‘Then I suggest that you leave me to worry about my reasoning, Gideon! Now,’ she continued, ‘is it to be yes or no?’
Mary’s stomach cramped as she waited for his answer. Only she knew just how much courage it had taken her to make him this offer, what it would mean to her life if he accepted – and what it would mean if he refused!
He didn’t want to be beholden to anyone, but to be offered the chance to train as an architect…Gideon could feel his resolve crumbling.
‘Aye!’ The strangled word echoed round the room. It was too late to take it back. Miss Isherwood was beaming delightedly at him, and he was almost sure he could actually see tears in her eyes.
When she spoke, though, her voice was coolly serious as she warned him, ‘It will not be easy for you, and what lies ahead will demand many sacrifices
.’
Sacrifices! He would sacrifice his soul to become an architect, Gideon acknowledged inwardly.
‘Now,’ Mary continued briskly, ‘to business! I shall give you the list of books, Gideon, and those you cannot manage to borrow from the library or find here I shall buy myself for you. No, don’t look at me like that,’ she told him. ‘Their cost will be repaid to me along with any other disbursements I may make on your behalf once you are qualified.’
‘But that will be years,’ Gideon protested.
‘Then I shall charge you interest,’ Mary returned evenly, her mouth quirking in a brief smile.
She already knew perfectly well that Gideon would find all the books he needed in her library. After all, hadn’t she gone to the trouble of making sure she brought them back from Manchester with her? Quite ruthlessly she had removed a whole shelf of her father’s first editions so that she might fill it with those she had purchased for Gideon.
Her ‘friend’ had been well primed by her regarding his benevolent role – and well paid to carry out his part as well. She had done everything she could do, and now she was totally in Gideon’s hands. Her whole future, her life, everything depended on his acceptance of her suggestion.
‘I may seem to be behaving philanthropically, Gideon,’ Mary continued calmly, ‘but I assure you I intend to be well reimbursed for my pains.’
Angrily Gideon listened to her. Miss Isherwood always used big words when she wanted to put him in his place. Architecture wasn’t the only thing he would be studying in her library, he decided grimly. There were bound to be dictionaries in there!
NINETEEN
‘If I might have a word, madam…?’
Mary frowned at her housekeeper. The woman was good enough at her job but Mary had never really taken to her. She could not forget that she had been employed by her father and something of his disapproval and contempt for Mary herself seemed to have rubbed off on the woman.