The Windfell Family Secrets Page 7

  ‘Next time, sir?’ Isabelle looked up and smiled at her protector.

  ‘Aye, if you wish. Next week at the same time? And please, it’s John. None of this “sir” business. After all, our families were good friends.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to that.’ Isabelle smiled, but secretly worried how she was going to explain another trip to Skipton, without her mother becoming suspicious.

  John, sensing there was something troubling her, added quickly, not wanting to lose his catch, ‘I can come to Settle, if you prefer. The tea-shop on Cheap Street, I seem to recall, does an excellent cream tea.’

  Isabelle sighed with relief. ‘That would be better, sir.’

  ‘John – it’s John. And we will keep our meetings secret. Perhaps it would be better that way.’ He escorted Isabelle out into the bright sunlight of the high street and stood with her as she waited for the daily coach between Settle and Skipton.

  ‘I will look forward to our next meeting, John. And perhaps it is best if we keep this to ourselves, for the time being.’ Isabelle blushed.

  The coach and horse pulled onto the cobbles in front of the Red Lion and people dismounted from the carriage, while the coachmen unloaded and loaded various cases and packages, as the horses snorted and appreciated the few minutes’ rest between destinations.

  ‘Next week it is, my dear. Now you get into the carriage, and safe journey back to Windfell. And don’t you worry: discretion is my middle name.’ John gave Isabelle his hand as she climbed up the steps into the carriage.

  She sat back in the corner of the coach, trying not to show to her fellow passengers the excitement she felt, over having had dinner with John Sidgwick. The next meeting could not come soon enough. He was a gentleman and, what’s more, a gentleman of stature. And he was interested in her.

  7

  Betty Armstrong’s short, round body was nearly fit to burst as she told her husband Ted the wonderful news, for the second time that morning.

  ‘So, Mother, them at Windfell have bought our lass a dress shop in Settle to run with their daughter. Is that what our Harriet is saying?’ Ted Armstrong looked at his excited wife over the breakfast table and waited for her to reply a little more calmly than the first time she had told him. He stretched his long, lean legs out under the table and wiped a drip of egg yolk from his stubbled chin, watching the late summer sun’s rays fill the farmhouse kitchen and wishing that he could escape the relentless banter that his wife was coming out with.

  ‘Aye, Charlotte Atkinson has asked Harriet to go into business with her daughter, Isabelle, and she’ll finance them both for a year. It’s what our Harriet has always wanted, but you know what this means, don’t you, Father? Our Harriet’s going to be married to that lad of theirs – she must be, else his mother wouldn’t have gone to the bother of renting the shop. You know Danny Atkinson will inherit the lot, after their day. Our lass will want for nowt.’ Betty could hardly draw breath as she threw herself into the chair across from her steady husband.

  ‘Now, I wouldn’t go so fast, Betty. He hasn’t been here to ask for her hand yet, and I’m a stickler for tradition. Don’t you go counting your chickens before they’ve hatched.’ Ted looked at the flushed cheeks of his wife and remembered the same look when she had realized that their oldest daughter was to marry one of the Warburton lads from Clitheroe.

  ‘Our Harriet to live at Windfell – now that would be something. I’ll have to get a new dress. Oh, and a new hat; a green one, I think, this time with a feather, just like Mrs Dowbiggin had on the other day. It was so bonny, she looked ten years younger and . . .’ Betty could hardly draw breath for thinking of her family being upwardly mobile in society.

  ‘Steady now. Mrs Atkinson’s only giving Harriet a fresh job, when you think about it. The lad hasn’t asked for her hand, and I can understand his mother not wanting our Harriet to work for Dora Bloomenber, if he is serious, given the history between her first husband and her. But we will have to be patient.’ Ted chewed his bacon and looked at his wife, who was glowing red with the heat from the kitchen fire and the thought of all the planning in the coming weeks.

  ‘There, you’ve said it yourself: “serious”. He is serious, else she wouldn’t have bought the shop. Do you think they’ll expect a dowry, because let’s face it, the Atkinsons have more brass than we will ever have. I wouldn’t want to insult them.’ Her face dropped, thinking of their meagre savings and how much the previous year’s wedding had cost, just to keep up appearances.

  ‘I tell you what, lass. I’m going down to Settle this afternoon. Why don’t we call in and visit the Atkinsons at Windfell? Then you can thank Charlotte Atkinson for helping our lass, and perhaps find out how serious their lad is about her. Then we all know where we stand.’ Ted leaned back and listened to his wife reach laying point, like one of his best hens, as she got herself in a fluster about meeting Charlotte and visiting Windfell.

  ‘I couldn’t – what would I go in? Would she accept me as a guest? Oh, I’ve always wanted to have a look around Windfell. Do you think we dare?’ Betty tittered and grinned at Ted as he walked towards the door, finishing his breakfast quickly and making good his escape from the madhouse that the kitchen was turning into.

  ‘I’m off to view my sheep. Have yourself ready by twelve. You never know, they might offer you a spot of lunch, if we call at the right time.’ Ted quickly closed the door behind him, thankful to be out in the clear air and away from the noise of his panicking wife. He’d never hear the last of the Atkinsons, the new shop and what to wear, if there was to be a wedding. The fellside and his sheep that were suddenly demanding his attention were looking more attractive by the minute. He walked down the garden path that led directly onto the open fell land where High Winskill Farm stood and breathed in the peat-filled moorland air. Glancing back at the small, squat farmhouse tucked under the fellside, he sighed. Why couldn’t life be simple, he thought to himself? He’d be happy to the end of his days with his li’l farmhouse and his few sheep; but not Betty, she was always chasing grander things, especially for her girls. One day he hoped she’d realize just how lucky she was and be satisfied with her lot in life.

  ‘How pleasant of you to call on us, Mrs Armstrong.’ Charlotte ushered her flush-faced guest into the morning room and bade her sit next to the fire. ‘I had Eve light a fire this morning; although it’s only late August, I thought it was a little chilly today. I don’t quite know how I’ll cope, once autumn and winter are upon us. I’ve got used to the warmer climate down here in the valley and have grown soft in my old age. When I think back to the winters at Crummock, I shudder.’ Charlotte smiled at the nervous woman who sat across from her and waited for a reply.

  Betty looked around the elegantly decorated room, noting the long green velvet curtains at the window and the ticking clock on the mantelpiece, which had a partly dressed Roman goddess holding a dove adorning the marble escapement.

  ‘Yes, winters are hard up at Winskill, especially when the yard pump freezes up and we have to break the ice before we have water for the house.’ Betty fiddled with her gloves.

  ‘You don’t have water piped into your kitchen? That must be really hard. That’s another thing I take for granted, although we even had piped water in Crummock, as my father laid pipes down from a water-holding tank when I was young. I remember all the upset, and my grandfather moaning at my father about his new idea, which helped Mrs Cranston so much in the kitchen. It made all the difference to the running of the house, and my grandfather had to eat his words.’ Charlotte smiled and remembered her childhood, as she watched the woman in front of her panicking.

  ‘Ted says he’ll probably do the same, perhaps next summer if he’s got time. In the meantime, I’ll just have to grin and bear it. Comes of having two girls, and no lads to help him with those jobs that they could have done together. He’s always wanted a son, but it wasn’t to be, so I suppose it’s all my fault.’ Betty blushed even more and decided to change the direction of the
conversation. ‘You’ve a beautiful house, Mrs Atkinson. I don’t think I’ve ever been in such a grand house.’

  ‘Yes, I’m lucky, I count my blessings every day and try to make sure my family is happy and content. I presume that is why you are here, Mrs Armstrong – your Harriet has informed you of my offer of employment in a dress shop on Duke Street? I thought seeing that our Daniel is sweet on her, she would be better employed by me, rather than Bloomenber’s. I’m sure you know the family history between us, and that it does not need explaining. I assured Harriet that she’d be earning just as much from working for me and would have more freedom in what she did. I aim for her and Isabelle to be their own masters, and I will simply keep an eye on their inputs and outgoings; after all, I can’t run it as a charity.’ Charlotte waited and watched as Betty grappled with how to ask the question that was preying on her mind.

  ‘Yes, we are grateful that you have made her the offer. Although the break from Dora Bloomenber will be hard for her, because Ezera, when he was alive, was exceptionally kind to her. Mrs Atkinson . . .’ Betty paused. ‘Just how serious are your son’s intentions towards our daughter? He’s been walking out with her for some time, and now you ask this of her.’

  ‘Mrs Armstrong, if my son had not shown and laid bare his devotions to your daughter, I would not have given this venture the time of day. Now, Mr Atkinson and I will urge Danny to make his intentions known to you and your good husband. Harriet is a lovely young lady and would be an asset to our family. However, we should not rush these two love-birds, for fear they take flight from being under pressure.’

  Betty breathed out deeply. ‘I know, I just worried that Harriet is perhaps giving up a good position on a whim. And you know what these young men are like. No disrespect to your Daniel, Mrs Atkinson. He’s always a perfect gentleman, and if he was to marry our Harriet we would be overjoyed.’

  ‘Well, hopefully, Mrs Armstrong, we can look forward to some good news. And for the time being, we will have our daughters in business together and that is to be celebrated, if nothing else.’ Charlotte smiled. ‘Tell me, how’s your other daughter? Did she not marry one of the Warburton boys?’

  ‘Indeed she did, and our Agnes is as happy as a pig in muck. I don’t think it will be long before we hear the sound of tiny feet. Or so I hope, for I long to be a grandmother.’ Betty smiled, thinking of her eldest daughter.

  ‘I don’t think she will be in muck, married to one of the Warburtons; she truly is fortunate, and I’m sure you will be blessed with grandchildren when they are good and ready.’ Charlotte smiled at the eager grandmother-to-be; if Betty was to be an in-law, she would keep her at arm’s length. The woman was never satisfied with what she had and lived her life through her children. Harriet, she hoped, would break free of her mother’s apron strings and make her own life. ‘Can I offer you some lunch perhaps? There is only me here today. Isabelle is visiting her friend William Christie, who’s home from Oxford at the moment, and Daniel is over at his grandfather’s at Eldroth. As for my husband, he will be making himself busy up at Crummock, where he will probably be getting under the feet of poor Arthur, the farm man. I feel so sorry for Arthur. Archie doesn’t realize that he’s supposed to take a back seat and leave him to run the farm, but he’s never happy when he’s sitting here in comfort taking it easy; he is always itching to be on the farm with his stock. You know what these farmers are like, always looking for the next job.’

  Charlotte smiled and walked to the bell pull, which she rang, giving Betty no time to reply before the butler answered the call.

  ‘Can you tell Cook that there will now be two for lunch? Mrs Armstrong will be joining me, Thomson.’ Charlotte sat back down in her chair as Thomson nodded in acknowledgment. ‘Thomson’s new to our family; he’s a man of few words, unlike Yates, his predecessor. I grew quite fond of Yates, he taught me a lot when I first came to Windfell.’

  ‘Thank you for offering me lunch. It will be a delight to eat with you.’ Betty’s face lit up; she was having lunch with Charlotte Atkinson in Windfell Manor, and she never thought the day would dawn when she was lunching with someone of such wealth.

  ‘We will eat in the dining room then. I don’t usually bother, when I’m on my own. In fact I must confess I sometimes even go down to the kitchen and eat with the staff. I enjoy catching up with their lives. I always think you should be aware of your staff’s problems and lives, for after all they are part of the household.’ Charlotte rose and waited for Betty to join her as she walked across the hallway. Her way was interrupted as the main door flew open and Danny entered the hall in a state of panic.

  ‘Where’s my father? He’s got to come quickly – it’s Grandfather, he’s ill!’ Danny bent double and caught his breath, before gasping out the next few words. ‘I’ve left Mrs Cowperthwaite with him. We think he’s had a stroke; he can’t talk or walk, or use his left arm.’ He nodded his head in recognition of Mrs Armstrong and waited while Charlotte answered.

  ‘He’s at Crummock. I’ll get Jethro to go for him, he’ll get there the fastest.’ Charlotte turned to Betty and quickly apologized. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Armstrong, luncheon will have to wait, as you can see we have a crisis on our hands. Please excuse me while I go for our groom and join my husband. Danny, you go back to your grandfather, and I’ll come with your father as soon as we can. Call for Dr Burrows on your way back through Settle.’ Charlotte picked up her skirts and ran across the hallway, leaving Danny and Betty alone together.

  ‘My pardon, Mrs Armstrong, but I’ve got to get back to my grandfather.’ Danny turned and opened the front door, waiting for a second while Betty spoke.

  ‘I understand, but perhaps we will see you up at Winskill this weekend?’ she asked quickly.

  ‘Aye, perhaps.’ Danny slammed the door and quickly mounted his sweating horse and galloped off down the driveway, thankful that he had not had to make polite conversation with Harriet’s mother. Amy was still on his mind, and he feared that his sudden lack of interest in the fair Harriet was obvious to everyone. He knew his father was probably right: Harriet was more of a lady and had a good heart. But Amy was such a sweet temptation. However, right now it looked like his grandfather was dying and he needed to get back to his bedside, and neither woman should rightfully be on his mind at the moment.

  Betty stood in the hallway of Windfell on her own. There was obviously trouble and heartbreak at Windfell, so she’d better go home.

  ‘Are you on your own, ma’am? Can I help you?’ Lily, Charlotte’s lady’s maid, came down the stairs and noticed Betty standing by herself.

  ‘Yes, I was to have lunch with Mrs Atkinson, but I’m afraid she’s had to go for the groom. I believe there’s a crisis in the family and that she won’t be returning. Can you give her my apologies, and I will see myself out. Do tell her I hope Mr Atkinson will be alright, and that I will catch up with her another day.’ Betty pulled on her gloves from the hall table and reached for the door handle.

  ‘Please, let me.’ Lily reached out and opened the door. ‘And I’ll pass on your apologies.’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘Did you say Mr Atkinson was ill?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Atkinson the elder, at Eldroth. Daniel has just come and gone – it sounds like Mr Atkinson has had a stroke – and he was looking for his father.’ Through the open door Lily and Betty watched as Jethro, driving the gig with Charlotte alongside him, went past them at breakneck speed.

  ‘Oh dear, poor Mr Atkinson.’ Lily watched as the dust rose from behind the gig.

  ‘Yes, truly unfortunate.’ Unfortunate indeed, Betty thought, as she had been looking forward to having lunch in the dining room with Charlotte. There would be other days, hopefully, as it seemed that the Atkinsons thought there was a wedding in the air. But now was perhaps not the right time to push for answers.

  Archie and Danny stood around the bed of Charlie Atkinson, while Charlotte held his hand tightly as he breathed in slowly and shallowly, faltering occasionally. The family were holding their b
reath with him, as they waited for the inevitable to happen.

  ‘He’s in no pain, I can assure you.’ Dr Burrows closed his Gladstone bag and patted Archie on the shoulder, before stepping out into the cool evening’s air. He’d been with the old man since just after lunchtime, taking over from Charlie’s next-door neighbour, Mrs Cowperthwaite, and watching him slowly drifting off earth’s mortal coil with every breath he took. Dr Burrows breathed in deeply and looked at the fields lying in front of him. Across the dale, set between a wooded area, he could just make out the white farmhouse of Crummock, from where Archie had ridden at breakneck speed to be with his dying father. The old man had tried so hard to ask for his beloved son, his words being hardly audible, and only young Danny knowing what his grandfather had wanted. It had been heartbreaking to be witnessing such a sad end to a proud man, but everyone knew Charlie had never been the same since his wife died. The light had gone from within his eyes and his lust for life had slowly dwindled, and now he was about to meet her in the next world, God willing.

  Across the farmyard, swallows chattered and swooped, preparing their young for the long flight to warmer climes, and Dr Burrows watched them, feeling the last weakening rays of the summer sun on his face. Charlie Atkinson would no longer feel the sun on his back or the wind on his face, for his days were nearly over.

  ‘Doctor, I think he’s gone.’ Danny came out and ushered the doctor back into the dark, low-set farmhouse, following him quickly up the stairs. He quietly stood back as Charlotte made way for the doctor to take his grandfather’s pulse.

  Charlotte looked down on the man who had been her father-in-law, a stubborn old codger, who had thought little of a woman being in business and of the fancy house that his son had lived in. But a Dales man whose love of his family was true, and who had always been right with her, no matter what he truly thought. She squeezed Archie’s arm and brushed back a tear from her eye as the doctor confirmed that Charlie had passed into the next world.