The Mallen Girl

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The Mallen Girl Page 29

by Catherine Cookson


  Now there was this man offering to make her mistress of the Hall. Had it come as a surprise to her? Yes, yes. Oh, yes, it had. She was not unaware of her accomplishments, but she had little personal vanity, and had never, never imagined that she had been in Mr Bensham’s thoughts all these years. It was something she must get used to and she would get used to it, and she would repay him for the honour he was doing her. Oh yes, yes, she would; and she began to say this.

  ‘You are doing me a great honour in…’

  He cut her short. ‘Now, now. Brigie, don’t go into any polite palaver, not at this point. If you want to tell me now, just say yes or no, an’ let’s have it.’

  She blinked rapidly, blew her nose gently again, then said, ‘I am honoured to accept your proposal, Mr Bensham.’

  She watched the muscles of his face drop, she watched his mouth spread into a wide smile, she watched his hand come up and cover his brows and then his eyes. She watched his shoulder shake, and then he began to laugh.

  ‘Aw! Lass, lass, you’re the limit. Look’—he was gripping her hands tightly now—‘repeat after me: Harry, I’ll take you.’

  Her chin dropped slightly, her eyes closed for a second, a smile hovered around her mouth and she repeated, in a voice little above a whisper, ‘Harry, I’ll take you.’

  ‘There! There!’ His voice was no longer quiet, it was like a bellow, and the next moment she was enveloped in a hug that jerked the breath out of her. And then his lips were on hers, right on her mouth, and his kiss was hard and warming, so warm that it seemed to melt her body right through to the void. And she was as surprised as he was when she relaxed against him and her hand touched the back of his neck.

  It was some minutes before he released her. Then holding her at arm’s length and with his head to one side, he said, There’s some good years ahead of us yet, lass. And you’ll be surprised to know one of the things I’m looking forward to is the things you can learn me.’

  As she looked back into his face her gaze was soft, her mind gentle toward him, and she did not correct him and say, ‘There is nothing I can learn you, I can only teach, it is you who must learn.’ But what she said, and with a smile in her eyes, and on her lips, was, ‘I’ll be delighted to learn you…Mr Bensham.’

  And at this he again pulled her into his arms and close to him, and what he said was, ‘I’ll Mr Bensham you afore I’m finished, Anna Brigmore, by lad! I will.’

  The End

 

 

 


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