Marrying Miss Martha (15 page)

“Just show me straight in, girl. If they’re there, why would they not see me?” There was a silence, then he added, “Don’t I know you?”

“I don’t think so, sir.”

“It’s Mr Brindley,” Georgie whispered. “He’s a dreadful man. Mama would never receive someone like him. Why does he think he can push in here?”

Penelope stood up. “I’d better go and stop him questioning Meg.” If Mr Brindley had a down on the Porters, there was no need to tell him who Meg was.

She opened the parlour door to reveal a man already standing in the hall handing his outdoor things to Meg. He looked much older than she’d expected, appearing closer to seventy than fifty, and was short with a distinct paunch and a harsh face in which age had engraved deep lines. A scar on one temple ran right up into the thin grey strands of hair that covered only the rear half of his scalp.

He looked her up and down. “I’m Oliver Brindley. You’ll be the younger sister, from my son’s description. Miss Penelope, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Won’t you come in.” She nodded dismissal to Meg, who cast a scared glance back over her shoulder as she hurried away, then led the way into the parlour. “This is my sister, Miss Merridene, and you’ve probably met Miss Seaton already.”

He went across to shake Martha’s hand, then stood staring at Georgie as if he had never seen her before. She blushed under his scrutiny, but that only made him give the slight twitch of the lips that was his nearest to a polite smile. “Quite the young lady now, aren’t you, Miss Seaton? I remember when you were a scrawny little lass always trying to tag along after your big brother.”

Seeing that Georgie was embarrassed by his remarks and seemed for once to have lost her voice, Martha interrupted. “Perhaps you’d like to take a seat, Mr Brindley?”

“Aye. Just for a minute. Though I’m a busy man so I can’t stop for long. But I don’t forget my obligations.” He took the chair Martha had indicated and wasted no more time on civilities. “I gather my son is in your debt, ladies. How much do I owe you?”

Martha decided to answer such curt remarks in like manner, though it went against her upbringing. “I paid the doctor half a guinea on your son’s behalf.”

“And for bringing that young fool of mine back to Tapton?”

“Nothing. We were coming here anyway and it was our cousin’s carriage so cost us nothing.”

He scowled at them so blackly that Penelope intervened. “It was no more than anyone would have done. We were glad to be able to help your son.”

“Peter was lucky he met you. The young fool had nothing left in his pocket. I’ll make sure he doesn’t get near the place again, that I will!” He threw five guineas on the small table between him and Martha. “This should pay for your trouble.”

Colour heightened, she pushed four of them back to him and went to fetch her purse from the mantelpiece, fumbling in it for change, so angry at this insult that her hands were shaking. “A half guinea will be quite sufficient, sir.”

“I prefer to reward them as have done me a service.”

“And we, sir, prefer to be reimbursed only for what we have expended. It wouldn’t be right to accept more.”

“Suit yourselves, but they tell me you’ve to earn your own bread, ladies or not, so you’re fools to refuse money!”

“And it’s just because we
are
ladies, sir, that we wouldn’t dream of accepting.” She was aware of Georgie’s gaze moving from one to the other and wished their pupil hadn’t been there to see this scene.

He scooped up the coins then snapped his fingers. “Meg Porter, that’s who the maid is, I’ll be bound! Same colour of hair as her brother. Eh, you’ll be sorry for taking
her
on. They’re all trouble-makers in that family. I had to sack the brother because he doesn’t know his place and dares to tell his betters how to run their businesses. I’d advise you to find another maid for yourselves.”

Martha’s face was so rigid with the effort it was taking to control her temper that Penelope held her breath as her sister spoke.

“I believe, sir, that we can be trusted to choose our own servants.”

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Any road, it won’t be long before that brother of hers leaves town and she’ll be going with him, then you’ll be short of a maid.” He thrust himself to his feet, staring round with a sneering look on his face. “I’ve not got all day to spend gossiping.” He stared at Georgie again, head on one side, making no attempt to hide his interest, pleased when she blushed.

“Let me show you to the door, sir.”

When he’d gone, she returned and blew her breath out with a whoosh. “Well!”

Penelope shuddered. “What a dreadful man!”

Georgie chimed in. “Mr Brindley’s not liked in the town and I can see now why Mama said he wasn’t to enter our house. The Wrights don’t receive him, either, and they didn’t even before Mrs Wright became so ill.”

“He frightens me,” Penelope said slowly. “There’s a ruthlessness about him, as if he cares for no one and would . . . ” She broke off, not wanting to say in front of Georgie that she felt Mr Brindley wouldn’t balk at murder if it suited his purpose.

Martha let out an unladylike snort of disgust. “He doesn’t frighten me but he made me very angry today. How dare he throw money at us like that? And what business is it of his whom we hire?”

Penelope couldn’t forget the expression of undisguised hatred on Brindley’s face when he’d spoken of Daniel. “I do hope Mr Porter will take care. He’s made a dangerous enemy in that man.”

“My brother says Daniel Porter has the makings of a good engineer,” Georgie volunteered. “Why does Mr Brindley hate him so?”

“Who knows?” Martha looked round the room. “Well, this isn’t getting the work done. We need to get that schoolroom sorted out. Georgie, come with me and we’ll start unpacking those other boxes.”

With a long-suffering sigh, the girl pushed herself to her feet and trailed out of the room into what should have been the dining room but had become the schoolroom instead.

“Do you always sigh and scowl so much?” Martha asked as she stood contemplating the room.

Georgie looked at her in puzzlement.

“It’s just that it seems to make you look less pretty and usually girls your age want to look as attractive as possible.” Hiding a smile at Georgie’s look of horror and refusing to listen to her conscience about this unorthodox way of treating the young woman’s sullen behaviour, Martha studied the room. Her next remark concerned how best to arrange the furniture.

She couldn’t help noticing that Georgie glanced at her own reflection in the mirror a couple of times when she thought Martha wasn’t watching. The girl scowled, then smiled in turn, and Martha nearly betrayed herself by chuckling.

She’d been watching Georgie more carefully than she showed, however, and had noticed how unhappy the girl’s expression became when she wasn’t chatting. It must be very lonely for her with her brother working such long hours, and if the mother was as indifferent to her needs as she sounded, that would only add to the girl’s unhappiness.

From what Georgie had said, her father had been the centre of her universe and his death had torn her life apart. Well, Martha could understand and sympathise with that. She still missed her own father so much it was like a physical pain.

* * * *

That evening Noll looked across the table at his son, who had recovered enough to make a hearty meal, though he still needed help cutting up his food. “I went to see those ladies of yours this morning. They’d only take half a guinea from me, the fools, though I offered them five.”

Peter stared at him in horror. “You should have asked me first. I could have told you they’d turn any extra payment down. In fact, I could have saved you the trouble and gone in your place.”

“I wanted to see ’em for myself. Not bad looking for a pair of spinsters, but you’re right. They’re too old for you.”

“Well, of course they are.”

“I doubt they’d have you, anyway. They look like they’ve got a bit of sense in their heads.” He ignored his son’s expression of outrage and shovelled in more food, chewing it noisily before adding, “Seaton’s sister was there too. She’s pretty enough, though a bit plump, and looks as silly as they come. That one would make a much better wife for you. It’s more than time you provided me with a grandson or two.”

Peter choked on his food and only the knowledge that he hadn’t a penny to his name kept him silent. It was a minute or two before he could speak calmly enough to say, “Seaton would never let me near her. And anyway, isn’t she too young to marry?”

His father ignored the interruption. “Seaton might not let you near her, but if you got in well with those two spinster ladies, you could do the pretty, flatter the chit and catch her interest before her brother could stop you. She looks old enough to marry to me, though I’ll find out how old she is, and I gather old Seaton left her a nice little fortune, which is why young Seaton’s a bit short of the ready.”

After that they both ate in silence. Peter could see that his father was hell bent on marrying him off to someone and actually, he wouldn’t mind finding himself a wife with some money of her own. Perhaps that way he could escape from Tapton for good.

But he couldn’t see Seaton allowing a Brindley to court his sister, let alone marry her, not the way things were between the two families, so it seemed a waste of time even thinking about it.

He tried to remember Georgie as a child, but couldn’t. “Perhaps I should call on the ladies and inspect her for myself,” he said lightly. 

His father nodded approval. “That’s the ticket. Call round to offer them your thanks and get your feet under the table.”

The next day being Sunday, the sisters were spared the presence of their alternately sulky and voluble pupil. They got ready for morning service at the small parish church, certain that, like any newcomers, they would be stared at by the rest of the congregation.

“I shall be interested to see what the minister is like,” Penelope said as they walked across the square. “I hope he’s not too high church.”

They stopped just inside the entrance to study the building, which was very plain inside, but with nicely carved pews and pulpit.

The service was conducted at a brisk pace, with a mere fifteen-minute sermon and only two hymns.

When they came out, they encountered Mr Wright in the churchyard, with his daughters clustered around him, and he introduced them to some of the other local families. They agreed that the girls could start coming to them immediately after Christmas and sent their regards to Mrs Wright, but it was too cold to linger so they soon set off on the brief walk home.

“Thank goodness there was no sign of the Brindleys today,” Martha said as they opened their own front door.

“I wish I need never see old Mr Brindley again,” Penelope said with a vehemence unusual to her. “There’s something truly evil about him and we already know he’s a bad employer.”

“We’ve been
told
that. We haven’t seen it for ourselves,” Martha corrected.

“I believe it—and anyway, we both saw those three men, didn’t we? Who else in this town could have hired them?”

After luncheon they sat in the parlour, allowing themselves a quiet hour or two’s relaxation, Penelope with her embroidery and Martha writing a letter to Jenny Barston, their governess friend in Woodbourne, who had begged for early news of them. Almost as an afterthought she penned a few lines to Edward and Rosemary, but this letter was short and contained far less personal information.

“There! That’s Edward out of the way for a while,” she declared as she set her quill down and flapped the piece of paper to and fro to dry the ink. “I think I’ll go up now and finish arranging my bedroom.”

Left on her own in the front parlour, Penelope went to stand by the window and watch the passers-by. It had already become a habit about which Martha teased her but she’d always loved watching people. When she saw Daniel Porter walking along the street, laughing down at his little sister, who had had the afternoon off to visit her family, she decided now might be a good time to speak to him about helping with his reading. She went into the kitchen to catch him before he left.

“Did you need something, Miss Penelope?” Sally asked.

“Mr Porter’s just bringing Meg back. I saw them go past the front and they’ll be here in a minute. I want to ask him something.”

The housekeeper looked at her in surprise, but said nothing. When Meg came in, her cheeks rosy from the cold air, Penelope went to the back door just as Daniel was turning to go out of the rear gate.

“Mr Porter!”

He turned. “Miss Penelope?”

“I wonder if you could spare me a few moments? I want to ask you something.”

She brought him into the kitchen, where Sally was stirring something in a pan and telling Meg to hurry up and change so that she could see how to cook this dish. It would obviously be difficult to talk here. “Would you come through into the parlour, please, Mr Seaton?”

He frowned at her. “Me?”

“Why not?”

He gestured to himself. “You can see why not. I’m not fit to be seen in a lady’s parlour.”

“Well, we can’t talk here, so if I think you’re fit, I’m sure you could humour me.”

He hesitated. “All right, then.”

“Will you bring us in some tea and cake?” she asked Sally, knowing how cold it was outside. Ignoring their housekeeper’s barely hidden surprise, she led the way into the parlour. “Let me take your hat. Do please sit down.”

Daniel sat on the edge of the chair opposite hers, holding his hands out involuntarily to the blazing fire.