Marrying Miss Martha (19 page)

Ben fumbled in his pocket and tossed a coin to the man. “Here, buy your children some food.” Then he produced some more money and offered it to Mary. “Share it out, will you, lass? You’ll know who’s most in need.”

She nodded.

The crowd gathered round the woman, as orderly now as they’d been unruly before, waiting patiently as she counted the coins and frowned in thought. Once Mary had shared the coins out, they began to disperse.

Martha let out a great shuddering sigh. “Thank goodness you came along. I don’t know what they’d have done to me if . . . ” She couldn’t even finish the sentence, her voice was shaking and she was having trouble not bursting into tears.

“You were a brave lass,” he said gently. If Georgie had been in this situation, he was sure she’d have been in screaming hysterics by now, too terrified even to try to fight back. Facing an angry crowd was daunting to even the bravest of men, as he knew from experience.

He had meant to smile at Martha in a reassuring way, but suddenly became aware of her body pressed close to his, a woman’s body with all its delightful curves and hollows. Her eyes were raised to his in a trusting way, beautiful blue eyes. And her hair, ah, that was indeed her crowning glory. In the scuffle it had tumbled from its pins and was spread over her shoulders, a mass of wavy brown with a hint of auburn in it. Why did she screw it up into a tight bun and hide its beauty?

Her eyes were over-bright with unshed tears and he put one fingertip out to brush away a gleaming drop that was about to roll down her cheek. She drew in her breath in a long sobbing gasp and said nothing, only breathed deeply and continued to stare at him. He had enough experience with women to realise that she was reacting to him physically, though he doubted she understood that.

“Are you all right now, Martha?”

Neither of them noticed that he’d used her first name.

“Not really. I still feel shaky. I thought they were going to k-kill me.”

Her voice broke on the last words and he pulled her right into his arms, holding her tightly and marvelling that she was still fighting against the tears, still desperately trying to regain her self-control. Hating to have her do this publicly, for he could see faces still peering at them round corners and through windows, he drew her along to where there was a low wall at right angles to the street, running along beside the steps leading up to the next row of houses. This little indentation in the wall was the nearest thing he could find to privacy. “Here. Let’s sit down for a minute or two while you recover. And let’s put that parcel down.” He guided her there, his arm still round her shoulders, and sat down beside her.

He wondered about taking his arm away, but it seemed the most natural thing there was to continue holding her, so he left it where it was.

Martha leaned against him with a sigh. “I hadn’t expected anything like that to happen.”

“It was partly because they didn’t know you. We’re not on any main roads in Tapton and we don’t get many strangers coming into town. Those who do certainly don’t walk through these streets. Why were
you
here?”

“I was going to see Miss Briggs. This is the way Georgie showed me.”

“Hah! Trust her to seek a short cut. But neither of you should use these streets after what’s been happening during the past few months. I’ll show you another way to get to Miss Briggs’.” After a further few moments’ thought, he added, “And I think, if you agree, I’ll take you and Miss Penelope on a tour of my mill, and ask Jonas to do the same. When quite a lot of people are able to recognise you in the street and know you’re not connected to Brindley, you should be much safer.”

“Whatever you think best, though I doubt I shall feel safe for a while.”

Her hair was tickling his nose. He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in. “You smell of lavender. My mother used to put it among her clothes and it always makes me think of her.” The simple fragrance pleased him far more than his step-mother’s expensive perfumes ever had.

“We used to grow it in Woodbourne and we still have the dried flowers among our clothes. I brought a cutting with me and if it survives, I’ll plant it in the garden next spring.”

He could see that her expression was sad as she said that. “You must be missing your old home.”

“A little. I miss my father most. And the walks. He and I used to go for long tramps together and fond as I am of Penelope, I have to admit she’s not a vigorous walker.”

“I could take you up on the moors on fine Sundays,” he offered.

She’d have loved to but didn’t dare. “Thank you for the offer but that might not be—appropriate. Us walking alone together, I mean.” She smiled wryly. “Teachers have to be very careful not to do anything people might gossip about.”

“We could take Georgie with us as chaperone. She used to be a good little walker.”

Martha couldn’t help it. She laughed out loud at that. “Georgie! A chaperone!”

He loved her rich chuckle and smiled with her. “Wouldn’t she serve?”

“She might. If we can persuade her to go once the new boots are ready.” Abruptly Martha became aware that his arm was still round her shoulders and his warm body was pressed against hers. Then she realised that her hair had come down. What was she thinking of to sit here like this? She must look a hoyden. Colour flooded her face and she edged away. “I think I’d better put my hair to rights. I’ll come back to see Miss Briggs another time.”

“I’ll send someone to escort you tomorrow morning if you like. Today isn’t a good day to be out and about.” He scowled as he added, “If Brindley really is going to make working hours longer, it’s an inhuman thing to do. His operatives can’t really manage on what he pays now and they’re exhausted when they finish work.”

“Do you pay more?”

“Yes, indeed. We feel people who’re not hungry work better. And we’d not dream of making the hours longer.” Her fingers had been busy and he was sorry to see that glorious hair pulled tightly back again. He noticed with a wry smile that when his companion stood up and brushed her clothes down, she once again became “Miss Martha” the schoolteacher. He picked up her parcel and offered her his arm most correctly. “I’ll escort you home.”

“Thank you.”

They hardly said a word as they walked back.

Martha could feel herself blushing all over again at the thought of how strong and safe he had felt when he held her in his arms. She also couldn’t help noticing how well their steps matched.

* * * *

The sisters had a very quiet Christmas and both felt sad to be without their father, who had always made a big fuss of them both at this time of year, buying presents and brewing his own hot punch.

On Christmas Day they went to church, then were invited to have luncheon with the Seatons. Even Sally was invited to join Hepzibah in the kitchen there, which Martha felt showed great thoughtfulness on Ben Seaton’s part.

Georgie wasn’t sulky that day, but said very little.

“It’s been so quiet,” she confided in Martha at one point, “that it doesn’t feel like Christmas at all. Last year we had all sorts of parties and Mama let me stay up for some of them and drink champagne.”

“Your brother must have been on his own last year, then. He’ll be happy to have your company this time.”

The girl looked at her in surprise. “That didn’t occur to me.” She pulled a wry face. “Well, you don’t think of parties when you think of Ben, do you? This is the first time I can remember him inviting people round.”

“Penelope and I are very grateful. We have each other, of course, but it’s nice to enjoy the company of friends as well.” She smiled and whispered, “How about playing charades? Do you think we could persuade Ben to join in? We’d only have two people in each team, but it might work.”

Not only did they persuade him to join in, but he did so with such enthusiasm that they were all laughing and a little breathless by the time they’d stood up and sat down, trying to act out the various syllables.

Georgie whispered to Martha as they left. “Thank you. It’s been lovely.”

Martha hugged her, not caring whether that looked strange.

As they sat quietly together in the evening, Penelope said, “I like Ben Seaton, don’t you?”

“Yes. I didn’t the first time I met him, but I know him better now and hope I value him as he deserves. He’s been very kind to us and I was never so glad to see anyone as the day he saved me from attack.”

Penelope said nothing about the way Martha’s cheeks had gone a little pink when talking about him. What exactly had happened between the two of them on the day he had saved her from the rioters? Martha had blushed about it several times, but her account of the incident seemed to show nothing to be embarrassed about. And what had the two of them been talking about tonight while planning their charade? They’d seemed quite at ease with one another and her usually staid sister had laughed and smiled the whole time.

So had he! Even Georgie had commented on how well the two of them got on.

“Are you glad we came here or are you regretting it?” Penelope asked suddenly.

Martha looked up, an expression of surprise on her face. “I’m glad, of course.”

“So am I.”

* * * *

On the other side of town, Oliver Brindley celebrated Christmas in a less lavish manner, fretting that his workers had to have a whole day off work, which they didn’t deserve, and be paid for doing nothing.

“What do you do with yourself all day?” he grumbled, scowling at his son who was all dressed up like an actor in a pantomime. He answered his own question. “You do nothing, that’s what, except eat me out of house and home. And I don’t know why you bother to dress up like that when you’re not going anywhere.”

Peter tried to fend off his father’s ill humour. “I like to dress well because I sometimes meet Miss Seaton when I go out. I think she’s glad to see me, in spite of her brother, and we’ve had some very pleasant chats.” More pleasant than he had expected, actually. He found her charming.

His father’s scowl lessened. “That’s more like it.” Noll looked at his son, sucking thoughtfully at a hole in one of his rear teeth while he considered this development.

“She’ll be back at that school after Christmas,” Peter went on, “so I can start meeting her by accident on the way home again. She uses the lane behind the church and I wait inside the church porch till I see her coming.” Heaven help him, it had become the highlight of his day! He was meeting her now for his own pleasure, not to follow his father’s orders, though it wouldn’t be politic to tell the old man that.

Noll nodded and stared into the fire as he thought about the situation. As soon as he found out whether the girl was worth the marrying, he’d do something about getting his son wed to her. He grinned as he considered this. No use asking Ben Seaton for permission. The fellow would never allow her to marry a Brindley and he guarded his sister rather carefully, apart from that short walk to and from school. It might be best just to snatch her and then make sure she was well and truly compromised before anyone found her again.

“The only way you’ll get the Seaton lass is by compromising her.”

Peter looked at him in dismay. “Compromising her? You can’t mean it!”

“Don’t be such a saphead. What other way is there when a girl’s guardian refuses to give permission? I’ll arrange to have her kidnapped and then
you
can spend a night or two with her. That should do it.”

“I’m not going to
force
her.”

“You’d be a fool not to, but from what I hear of
polite
folk, just spending a night or two with her should do it. They’ll soon have you two wed then.”

Peter saw the expression on his father’s face and cut off what he was going to say. He couldn’t believe his father really would kidnap her and if he tried, it should be an easy matter to warn her. He picked up the wine glass and studied the port against the light of a candle, more to deflect attention from himself than because he cared about the colour. ‘This is rather a nice port.’

‘I asked that wine merchant fellow for a good one, an’ I’d have give ’em what for if they hadn’t found one for me. I don’t mind a glass of port now and then but I’d rather have gin.’ He tapped his glass.

Peter nodded but didn’t comment. Surely his father hadn’t meant that? He couldn’t help picturing Georgie Seaton, young and puppyish, far too trusting. No, he definitely didn’t want to see her kidnapped or hurt in any way. And wished he wasn’t so cowardly about telling his father that.

Noll lifted his own glass. “Here’s to your marriage! However we get you to the altar.”

As soon as he could, Peter excused himself and went up to bed, feeling totally despondent.

Oh, hell, things were getting worse, not better! was his last thought as he drifted into sleep.

As soon as the festive season was over, lessons started. The four Wright children were escorted to and from school by Mrs Wright’s maid, an elderly woman who had been with the family for as long as Sally had been with the Merridenes.

The children were a delight to teach and even Georgie was slightly less abrasive these days. She was wearing her altered clothes, and not only looked slimmer, Martha thought, but prettier, too.

They spent the morning finding out what the four girls knew, but as it was a crisp, sunny day, Martha decreed that they should all go for a walk in the afternoon. Mr Wright had made it plain that he wanted the girls to start getting more exercise as well as receiving a decent education. She had already asked Georgie to be their guide and since the new boots had been made and pronounced comfortable, the girl led the way cheerfully up to the edge of the moors, happy to be in the role of expert, for once.

“They’re delightful children, aren’t they?” Penelope murmured, watching as the Wright girls began to throw a ball to and fro. Even Georgie condescended to join in, then took over the management of the game, helping little Alice, who was at a disadvantage.