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Authors: Jessica Blair

BOOK: Stay with Me
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‘Good.'
‘James and Olivia?'
‘Couldn't be better.'
‘I'm pleased to hear it.'
Alistair could sense that the doctor was trying to lead into something and could guess what it was. ‘Sir, I believe you are wondering if we have received an invitation to a wedding recently?'
‘Then she sent you one?' Doctor MacBride frowned. He had hoped to hear of James and Olivia's reaction.
‘She did. I suppose you got one too? After all, you are a close relation.'
‘The whole family were invited but we are minded to refuse. We cannot condone the scandal Lena caused by running away with Peter Hustwick.
‘Now, if I may give you a bit of advice, as difficult as it may seem at times, you must occupy your mind with other things, work and pleasure. What has happened is behind you. I'm sure you will find someone more worthy of you.'
And that someone is within the walls of this house if his wife had her way, which she usually did.
 
Three days later, with Alistair feeling comfortably at home in the MacBride household, he was sitting in the drawing-room with Avril, discussing the works of Wilkie Collins, when they heard the sound of the bell ringing. It was immediately followed by a loud knocking on the front door. Startled, Avril jumped from her chair and headed for the hall. Alistair was swiftly on his feet to follow.
The maid was already at the door when Avril entered the hall.
‘Dr MacBride please - quickly.' The words came from a distressed female.
‘He's not in,' started the maid, then faltered when she became aware of Avril's presence.
‘All right, I'll see to this,' she said, taking charge immediately.
Relieved, the maid bobbed a quick curtsey and hurried away.
‘What is it?' asked Avril, eyeing the dishevelled caller who had obviously rushed to their house without taking time to consider her appearance. A dark coat hung loosely on her shoulders and the belt around her plain brown dress had come loose. A shawl had dropped to her shoulders, allowing her hair to stream free from the ribbons that had held it. Her face was drawn by anxiety and her eyes were rimmed red with tears.
‘Please fetch Dr MacBride for me.'
Avril reached out to help the woman inside. ‘He is out visiting patients.'
The woman looked despairing. ‘Oh, what can I do?' she cried.
‘Come, sit here and tell me what the matter is.' Avril guided the woman to a chair by the door.
‘Giles had been repairing some guttering on our house. He came into the kitchen, and next thing I knew he was on the floor,' explained the woman, between gasps and sobs. ‘Oh, please, do something!'
‘I'll come. I'm a nurse.' As she got to her feet Avril glanced at Alistair. He immediately read her query and nodded. ‘This is Dr Nash, visiting us from Whitby. He'll come as well.'
The woman raised tear-filled eyes to him. ‘Oh, will you, please?'
‘I will.'
The woman, who introduced herself as Peggy, directed them to her home at the end of a row of terraced houses in a respectable area of Dundee. They saw a group of women standing near the front door.
‘Neighbours,' Peggy explained. ‘I expect Maggie's inside with Giles. She said she would look to him while I came for the doctor.'
When Avril brought the trap to a halt, Alistair was quickly to the ground, calling to two boys to look to the horse. He helped Avril and Peggy from the trap and they hurried into the house.
‘Has he moved?' Alistair asked her neighbour.
‘No, not even opened his eyes. I laid a blanket over him.' She looked at Peggy. ‘I got it from your bed.'
Peggy nodded and looked anxiously at Avril and Alistair who were on their knees beside the man.
Within the hour they had him comfortably in bed and had helped him regain consciousness. Peggy's relief when she saw him open his eyes was more than evident. When she finally saw Avril and Alistair out of the house, in the knowledge that Dr MacBride would visit as soon as he returned, she was profuse with her thanks.
‘Mind you do as Dr Nash has instructed until Dr MacBride gets here,' instructed Avril as she climbed into the trap and took up the reins.
‘You handled things back there remarkably well,' commented Alistair. ‘You instructed them with authority, but also with reassurance and gentleness. People like that when they are in trouble and don't know what to do.'
‘It is kind of you to say so, but I have had some training as a nurse and Father being a doctor, well, naturally some of his knowledge and experience rub off.'
‘But the gentleness and tenderness are all yours.'
‘You're very kind.'
‘No. I merely speak the truth and am steeped in admiration for you.'
Avril blushed. Her heart was racing. Did he admire her in the way she hoped or was his admiration only for the way she had handled the situation today? Was he beginning to realise there were other people who could come into his life and enrich it? If only he would forget Lena!
Chapter Twenty
Lena and Peter were quietly married in Holy Trinity Church. Greta was the bridesmaid, a close friend of Peter's was best man, and six of his other friends, including Charles and Marcia Sugden of Weaver Hall, also attended. The reception afterwards was a quiet affair, though most enjoyable. Afterwards, Lena and Peter left to spend the night at Raby Hall before going on the next day to spend their honeymoon in what was designated a cottage on the Weaver Estate, though in fact it was an old hunting lodge updated luxuriously by the Sugdens, who had also appointed two of their staff to see to the young couple's comfort.
They enjoyed an idyllic time together, though by the end of the fortnight they had chosen to be away Lena wanted to be back in the hustle and bustle of the business world. Now she was Mrs Hustwick her chances of widening her influence would be greater, and she was going to make the most of those chances, working towards her ultimate aim.
 
Two months later, when Peter drove into Hull from Raby, he dropped Lena off at Greta's. At their last meeting they had promised themselves a morning's shopping followed by lunch at Greta's, so it was mid-afternoon when Lena arrived at the office to find a buzz about the place.
‘What is it? What's been going on?' she asked.
Peter had jumped from his chair when she entered his room. He grabbed her round the waist and twirled her. The excited laughter on his lips made her laugh too.
‘I've had a visit from Mr Strutman. He was highly satisfied with the cargo we assembled for him and has decided we can do the same next month, and the first week of every month thereafter until further notice! He also indicated that if we can arrange it he would like us to handle a consignment of cloth which he has bought in Halifax. He wants us to bring it from there to Hull, transport it to Middlesbrough where a quarter of it will be offloaded, and the rest will go on to Riga. The ship can be filled to capacity on the return voyage to Teesside with timber.'
‘He wants us to do all that?'
‘Yes.'
‘Wonderful! How exciting!' cried Lena with enthusiasm.
‘You were right about having our own ship. I've contacted the Welburn brothers who will be here shortly to discuss the type of vessel we want.'
‘You've moved quickly!' As Lena hugged him she realised this brought her one more step closer to her goal.
By the end of the day a ship had been ordered to their specifications. It would not be ready for this particular voyage, but in view of Strutman's promise of further trade the Welburn brothers promised it would be built with all speed.
The
Lena
, so named on Peter's insistence, was launched with great ceremony. Once again she had sent invitations to James, Olivia, Alistair and the MacBrides, knowing full well the impact it would have on them in different ways, but the one reaction she would dearly have loved to see was James's. She reckoned he would be disturbed by what she had achieved and link it with the promise she had made him after the launching of the
John Carnforth.
 
‘Captain Washbrook?' Lena enquired of a sailor who was attending some ropes near the gangway of the
Maid Marian,
newly arrived on its weekly visit from Whitby.
He straightened from his task and touched his forehead. ‘I'll fetch him, ma'am.'
A few minutes later the captain appeared.
‘Good day, ma'am.'
Lena smiled. ‘I can see from your eyes that you recognise me?'
‘Aye, I do that, ma'am. I still remember the lass that used to visit Whitby's quays with her father and run off to explore whenever his attention was diverted to shipping matters.'
She laughed at the picture of her he'd conjured up. ‘I wonder if I could ask a favour of you, Captain?'
‘If I can fulfil it, ma'am, I will.'
‘Bring me a copy of the
Whitby Gazette
every week?'
‘No trouble at all, ma'am.'
The captain was as good as his word and it was from this newspaper that she learned of the birth of a son, John, to Olivia and James, named after his grandfather.
‘He'll be heir to a thriving business,' commented Peter when she told him.
Lena made no comment. ‘If there is a business left for him, she thought to herself.
She also found the
Whitby Gazette
useful for keeping an eye on trading out of the port, especially anything related to Carnforth's which was always prominent in the trading news. She was annoyed she had not thought of this source of information before, but had been kept fully occupied with Hustwick's business while all the time allowing Peter to think he was making the decisions.
‘I'm sorry you did not come with me this morning,' he said on Lena's arrival at the office one day two weeks later.
‘So am I,' she said, returning his kiss. ‘I always like to share the ride from Raby with you, but there were some domestic matters I had to see to.' She eyed him curiously. ‘I know you, Peter Hustwick. There is something you are dying to tell me.'
‘Indeed. Sit down.'
She took the chair he indicated on the opposite side of the desk.
‘I've had a visitor, a Mr Glenville from York.'
‘Should I know him?'
‘No. This is the first time I have met him. He came with a proposition.'
‘More trade for us?' put in Lena eagerly.
Peter gave a little smile. ‘No. He came here with an offer to buy our business.'
‘What?' Lena's voice was charged with surprise and shock. Had she taught Peter too much? Had he taken it upon himself to decide to sell? After all, the business was in his name and as the owner he had the legal right. She felt her heart thumping.
‘He has made us an outstanding offer. It took all my self-possession to say I would think about it. I wanted to see what you thought.' But Peter gave her no time to comment and went on to detail the offer with such enthusiasm that she knew what he was going to propose.
‘Let's sell. We'll never get an offer like this again. We'll have no financial worries and will have all the time in the world to ourselves. Just think what we could do.'
Lena's mind was spinning. She would have to handle this carefully. She was intent on manoeuvring the firm into a position of strength so that she could proceed to the next stage of her plan. ‘Peter, I don't know how you could seriously consider selling the firm your father founded and built up.'
‘From that point of view, I have no sentiment about it. I respect my father and what he did, but after Mother's death he shut me out. Certainly he did not encourage me to take a deep interest in the firm. It is you who have really developed that.'
‘Well, don't let that interest wane! We can achieve so much more, become pre-eminent in Hull's trading circles. Other traders are taking notice of us and more work is coming our way every day. It hasn't all been easy, as you know. Some merchants and ship-owners are still opposed to me, and because of that shut us out of their social gatherings, but . . .'
‘All that would soon cease if we sold,' Peter broke in.
‘I'm not in the least disturbed by their attitude.'
‘But I don't like to see my wife shunned in certain quarters. '
‘If I don't mind, why should you? Those people will all come round in time. We are accepted by so many more now. Don't sell, Peter, please. This firm has a great future and is gaining more and more respect. Instead of selling, I think we should build another ship.'
‘Another ship?' It was Peter's turn to look surprised. He had not expected this proposal at such a time. ‘It will be costly and I don't like getting in too deep with the banks.'

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