Marrying Miss Martha (13 page)

They passed four older houses set half-way up the hill, three-storey places built of creamy stone with the third floor having a whole row of windows set in adjoining oblong stone frames.

“How pretty they are!” Penelope exclaimed. “I’d love to sketch them.”

A blast of icy wind made them both glance up at the sky, in which clouds were piling up fast.

Martha grimaced at them. “We’d better turn back, I suppose. It looks like it’s going to rain.”

But as they turned towards the lower terraces, two men came round a corner and barred their way.

“Well, look at the pretty ladies,” one of them said, giving them a mocking bow. “What are you doing here, I wonder?”

“None of your business. Kindly let us pass,” Martha snapped, amazed at his impudence.

“How are you going to make us?” He raised his voice. “Jack! Come and see what I’ve found.”

A third man came round the corner, older, with a hard face and eyes that seemed to have no light in them at all. “Who are you?” he asked in a hoarse, scratchy voice.

“That’s none of your business,” Martha repeated, exchanging quick glances of dismay with Penelope, who was clutching her arm and staring at the third man as if he had two heads. She didn’t like to push past them and was starting to wonder what to do if the men attacked them. Would anyone hear them if they called for help—or come to their aid?

The one called Jack studied them for a moment or two longer then asked, “What’s your name, miss?” He spoke civilly enough but there was something about him that worried her, though she tried not to let that show.

“Miss Merridene.”

“Ah. Sorry you were troubled.” He stepped aside and dragged one of the other men with him, gesturing with his free hand for the ladies to pass. The third man moved hastily away without prompting.

As they were walking on Martha heard a cry and turned to see one of the two men who had stopped them lying on the ground, groaning. The words “Didn’t t’master tell you not to cause any trouble, ’specially with them two?” floated back to her.

“Let’s walk more quickly,” she said in a low voice.

“Yes, let’s.” Penelope glanced over her shoulder, than whispered, “Martha, I’m sure that man was one of those causing the riot. I recognised his voice. It’s so hoarse you can’t mistake it.”

“We’d better let Mr Wright and Mr Seaton know what happened.”

They had to run the last few yards and even so, only just managed to reach their new home before the rain began pounding down. They watched it for a moment or two from the hall—it was falling so heavily it seemed to cloak everything in grey mist—then closed the front door and went to join Sally in the kitchen.

“How did you go on with Hepzibah?” Penelope asked.

“She’s a very decent body and I was pleased to make her acquaintance.”

The sisters exchanged satisfied glances.

“And what’s more, she knows of a little lass who’s looking for a place in service, so she’s sending her round to see us this afternoon, if that’s all right? Oh, and she sent down some cups and a teapot, so that we can make ourselves a hot drink when we’re here, just till our own stuff arrives. They’re a friendly lot here, aren’t they?”

“Some of them.” Penelope remembered the riot and today’s incident with a shudder. Who was “t’master” and why didn’t he want anyone upsetting her and her sister? Could it possibly be Mr Brindley causing trouble again? Well, who else could it be? She had heard nothing good about that man.

She supposed they should be thankful they’d helped his son, or perhaps he might have sent his men after them as well.

* * * *

That afternoon a knock on the kitchen door heralded the arrival of a scrawny girl of about twelve with ginger hair, a bright expressive face and vivid blue eyes. She was wearing rather ragged clothes but they were clean and well-mended, as Sally didn’t fail to note. The ladies left their housekeeper to speak to her first and went to stand in the front parlour, looking out of the window.

“I like having something to watch,” Penelope said. “Don’t you?”

Martha considered this, head on one side. “No, I think I’d rather have a garden than a street outside my parlour.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree, then.”

A few moments later Sally joined them. “I think she’ll do. She’s called Meg Porter and she’s twelve. But she won’t be able to provide a proper outfit because—”

“Meg Porter? Daniel’s sister?” Penelope exclaimed before she could prevent herself. “Oh, then we must definitely employ her. Her brother saved my life, after all.” Well, perhaps not her life, but he’d prevented her getting hurt, that was sure.

Meg Porter was brought to meet her two employers. She was not, as Penelope didn’t fail to notice, struck dumb by their questions, but informed them in a clear voice that she could read and write a bit, thanks to Grandma Binns, who ran a little school in her front room. Her brother Daniel had paid the school sixpences, she told them proudly, well he had until he’d lost his job. From her tone, she obviously adored her brother.

The two ladies had trouble understanding some of her expressions, not yet being used to the local dialect. They explained that she would be expected to live in and would earn five pounds a year, paid quarterly, as well as her board and keep.

Beaming, she promised to come to live here and work for them as soon as their furniture arrived.

After that they went back to the hotel to sit and make plans for their school.

* * * *

That afternoon, just as dusk was falling, the two sisters returned to the house to collect Sally, who had been putting away in the pantry some more purchases of household necessities, delivered with flattering promptness by the grocer. Their housekeeper seemed to prefer to spend her time in the empty house to sitting around in the inn.

Suddenly there was the sound of vehicles drawing up outside and Martha raced to the window, to shout, “It’s them! The drays have arrived!”

Jem Saverby knocked on the door and informed them that he and the lads would prefer to unload the furniture that very night, if the ladies didn’t mind. “It’ll be better kept in your house than in our storage area, because we get a lot of mice an’ blackbeetles. Mr Wright is sending some men down from the mill to help. For tonight we’ll just set things down anywhere, then tomorrow he’ll send a couple of men to help you put the place to rights.”

“We’ll need some lamps then,” Martha reminded him.

“They’ll be here soon,” said a voice behind her and she turned round with a start to see Ben Seaton standing in the doorway, smiling at her. “We’ll show you now how efficiently our Lancashire lads can work.”

She found herself returning his smile then felt a warmth steal into her cheeks and could only hope the dusk hid her blushes—though why she should be blushing she couldn’t imagine! She made up for that lapse by speaking especially briskly. “Good. Let’s get started then. I think you’ll find Leicestershire ladies are not afraid of hard work, either.”

Penelope watched this interaction with great interest, then turned to find that Daniel Porter had joined them as well. That easy, lithe body and those bright, observant eyes had the same impact as before, and she was surprised at how very pleased she felt to see him. She hoped she had hidden her reaction to him, however. It would never do to set people gossiping and friendship could so easily be mistaken for something else.

“It seems we’re bound to keep meeting, Miss Penelope,” he said with a smile.

“Yes, it does.” Such a stupid answer, she thought as he turned away. He’ll think I’m a fool.

The men worked quickly and by eight o’clock everything was unloaded. Daniel was the last to leave, apart from Ben, who had stayed to supervise.

A minute later, Ben snapped his fingers in irritation. “I forgot to ask Daniel something. I wonder—would you ladies stay here while I run after him, then I’ll come back and escort you to the inn?”

“We can find our own way there, surely? It’s not far.”

“I’d prefer you to stay here till I return. Things
are
settling down again in the town, and I promise you it’s not the normal state of affairs for Tapton streets to be unsafe, but there are still a few troublemakers around.”

“Very well.”

When he had gone running down the street, Martha went to the open door, muttering, “Oh, I do wish women weren’t so helpless.”

“Do they need to be?” Penelope asked from beside her.

“Shh! Did you hear something? Oh, my goodness!”

* * * *

As Ben rounded the first corner he came across three men attacking his assistant engineer and without hesitation launched himself into the fray. It had been a long time since he’d been involved in a fight, though he could usually count on giving a good account of himself, but didn’t like the odds this time, especially as Daniel was already down on the ground. He grabbed one man’s jacket, yelling for help at the top of a very powerful voice, then found himself trying to fight off an assailant experienced in rough street fighting.

When he heard footsteps behind him he let out a growl of relief, but as he cast a hurried look over his shoulder, hoping someone was coming to their help, he saw to his horror that it was the Merridene ladies and their maid, armed with a rolling pin, a walking stick and a warming pan.

“Get back!” he yelled, but then had to turn to give his full attention to his opponents again as a punch narrowly missed his chin.

Daniel grabbed the foot that was moving to kick him again and twisted it sharply. As his opponent crashed to the ground, he rolled out of the way, knowing he was still disoriented, but determined not to give in as long as there was breath in his body.

“It’s them ladies again,” one of the attackers called. “Back off, lads!”

With a suddenness that took everyone by surprise, the men moved away, two of them dragging their half-conscious comrade with them.

Panting from his efforts Ben turned to face the three women. “I thought I told you to stay in the house!” The fear he had felt for their safety made him speak sharply.

“When we heard you shouting for help, we naturally came after you and it’s a good thing we did,” Martha said coolly.

“Why did they run away when they saw us?” Penelope asked. “I think they’re the same men we met when we went for a walk, and they left us alone when they recognised us.”

Ben hauled Daniel to his feet then stared at the ladies. “What do you mean? What men are you talking about?”

She explained.

“That makes me even more certain it’s Noll Brindley behind these disturbances. He has a grudge against Daniel, but owes you two a favour for bringing his son here, so must have told his bullies to leave you alone. If he doesn’t stop attacking my men, he’ll get more than he bargained for, however. I’m not standing for this sort of thing and shall report the attacks to the local magistrate first thing tomorrow morning. And—”

Penelope pushed past him as if she hadn’t heard a word.

“Take your time, Mr Porter?” Without thinking she put an arm round Daniel for support as he swayed dizzily. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better.” He gave her a lop-sided grin. “I think this makes us even, miss. You saved me this time.”

“You’d better come back to the house and let us look at you. There’s a cut on your forehead that needs bathing and you seem dizzy to me.”

Ben moved to Daniel’s other side and put an arm round him to support him, so she had no choice but to move away.

“Lead the way, ladies.”

At the house they found that Daniel had a big lump on the back of the head, a cut on his forehead and, he said with a wince, bruises in places he’d rather not show the ladies. It didn’t seem serious enough to call in a doctor, so Penelope, always the nurse of the family, bathed the cut and worried about how safe he would be getting home.

Ben took charge again. “Once we’re sure you ladies are safe at the Dragon, I’ll make sure you get home, Porter, though I think I’ll call in a couple of the men to accompany us. And first thing tomorrow I’m going to see Harmer.” He caught an inquiring look from Penelope and added, “He’s our local magistrate, lives just outside the town on his estate and looks down his nose at mill folk. If he won’t do something about Brindley, I will.”

“I never heard the likes of it,” Sally said once they were back in the inn. “Are you sure this doesn’t happen often?”

“So Mr Seaton tells me,” Martha replied.

Sally grimaced. “I hope he’s right. That was Meg’s brother, I gather?”

Penelope took it upon herself to answer. “Yes. Daniel’s the Assistant Engineer at Seaton’s. He’s self-taught, but he must be good or he’d not have been given such a responsible job. He’s the one who saved me the day of the riot.”

She went to her room, but couldn’t sleep for a while because she kept seeing Daniel’s face, a little battered this time, but still with that bright, intelligent air she found so attractive.

What had got into her to react to the man like this? she wondered sleepily, but fell asleep before she had time to work out an answer.

* * * *

Late that night Peter heard his father going down the stairs muttering to himself. What was the old man up to at this time of night? he wondered. Not really sleepy after a day spent sitting around in boredom broken by a slow and chilly stroll round the town centre, he suddenly decided to see what his father was doing. He could always plead hearing a noise and worrying about burglars.