Marrying Miss Martha (21 page)

* * * *

Penelope tidied her hair with hands that fumbled more than usual. For all her confident words, she was nervous about tonight’s class. She’d only ever taught such groups with John beside her leading the proceedings. Now, she must lead them herself. Oh, Martha would be there—of course she would!—but her sister had no experience of this sort of teaching and little interest in it, either. What
she
cared about was children. Already the Wright girls were devoted to her and ran to do her bidding and she seemed to get on well with Georgie, too.

It suddenly occurred to Penelope that she’d be less nervous if she didn’t have Martha watching what she was doing and she pulled a face at herself in the mirror. It wouldn’t be seemly to be there on her own. “Stop thinking about yourself and start thinking about them,” she scolded her reflection.

There was a knock on the door. “Are you ready, Pen? Mr Wright is here to escort us to the mill. I thought Mr Porter was coming for us, but apparently Mr Wright wants to be there this first time.”

Penelope took a deep breath and opened the door.

They walked to the mill through a frosty evening, their feet making a crunching sound on the hard earth of the lane behind the church. Both ladies were carrying papers and books and had refused to give them to Mr Wright, since they were arranged in careful order, with loose markers for the pages they intended to use.

“I wanted to come myself tonight to show the men how important I think these classes are,” he said. “And we haven’t discussed payment for this extra work, either.”

“We can do that later.” Penelope’s voice came out sounding a little breathless.

He looked at her. “You’re not nervous, are you? I can promise you the men will be very respectful.”

She hesitated then said in a rush, “Yes I am nervous, just a little. I’ve never even met your workers and they’re grown men, not children.”

“They’re eager to learn, that’s what counts, or they’d not be coming to the classes. They can all read a bit already, some quite well. It’d help if they could write neatly, too, and be able to do simple arithmetic.”

He ushered her through the small doorway in the larger mill gates and left the night watchman to lock it carefully behind them. Both he and Ben were still taking precautions against attack, though there had been no signs of that sort of trouble for weeks. The yard was lit by lanterns hanging on the wall and was still and silent, so different from the daytime bustle both sisters had noticed around each mill. He led them round to the rear of the big building, where a single-storey structure stood on its own.

“This was the original mill, built by Ben’s grandfather.”

Martha stopped to stare back at the modern mill and then again at the original one. “Goodness, it’s so much smaller, more like a house!”

“That’s progress for you.”

She could hear the satisfaction in his voice. She wasn’t sure it was progress to shut children up inside a grim-looking building all day so that they never saw daylight in winter, but she knew he was an enlightened employer, who treated his hands well, and that most children needed to earn what they could to help feed themselves and their families.

“Right then, let’s go inside.” He pushed the door open and gestured to them to lead the way. Faces turned and three rows of men stood up as soon as they saw who it was.

Taking a deep breath and trying to summon up a smile, Penelope led the way to the front of the room, where Ben Seaton was waiting for them. What helped her most was to see Daniel standing at the end of the front row, his bright hair shining in the lamplight and his smile holding true warmth and understanding, as if he at least understood how she was feeling tonight.

When they had been introduced to the men, she turned to Ben and said in an undertone, “I think we’ll do better without you and Mr Wright here.”

He nodded. “Send someone for me if you need anything. I’ll be working in the mill office, just round the corner.”

When the ladies were alone with their eleven pupils, Penelope said, “I just want to say before I start how happy I am to be able to help you. I believe everyone should have the opportunity to learn to read and write.”

Eleven heads nodded approval of this statement.

Daniel added, “We’re grateful for your help, Miss Penelope.”

“Right, then, let’s start.” She gestured to the pile of books. “Tonight we’ll just read and leave the writing for next time. I hope you won’t feel insulted that these are children’s books, but I need to know how well you can read. We have enough books for you to work in pairs, except for one group of three. Mr Seaton is going to buy some more books, but I didn’t want to wait for that to start the classes. I’d like to listen to you reading one by one. Please don’t be embarrassed if you’re not very good. My sister and I will make sure you improve.”

To Martha’s surprise some of the men immediately began to look apprehensive. They weren’t as tall or strongly-built as she’d expected and a couple of them were distinctly undersized, like many of the ordinary folk in Tapton, but their faces shone pink with washing and their hands were also well scrubbed, even if their clothes bore the marks of their day’s toil.

“I’ll ask Mr Porter to read first,” Penelope went on, “because I’ve met him before and know his name.” She glanced quickly in Daniel’s direction and he gave her a quick nod and smile. “As I don’t know the rest of you, I’d be grateful if you’d each tell me your name before you start reading.”

Here among his fellows Daniel was more confident than in the alien territory of Fern Villa. He opened the book, a geography primer which the Wright girls used, and read slowly, stumbling over a couple of longer words and turning to her for help, so that she found herself standing beside him, looking down on that unruly amber hair.

When she asked him to stop, he nudged the fellow beside him. “Your turn, lad.”

The man, balding and at least forty, swallowed hard, as if facing a huge ordeal. “I’m Fred Cruckley, Miss Penelope, and I’m not near as good a reader as Daniel here.”

By the time they’d gone round the room, she had some idea of what she was facing. As John had done, she rearranged the men, making sure each pair was led by one of the better readers and explaining what she was doing as she asked them to change places.

“Now, if you’ll read on at your own pace, helping one another, my sister and I will come round and listen. It’s practice that does it with reading, you see, and someone to help you with the harder words. If you need help from us, just raise your hand.”

The men settled at once to reading, clearly not wanting to waste a second of these precious two hours, spelling out the words earnestly, some with a work-roughened finger travelling beneath each line. The two women moved round the room, quietly explaining or correcting the harder words.

Everyone was surprised when the door opened and Ben came back. “Time to stop, lads.”

“Nay, it’s not two hours gone already, is it?” one exclaimed. 

“It feels like nobbut a few minutes,” said another.

Before they filed out, each man came and thanked the ladies.

“Soon I shan’t be shamed by my childer reading better nor me,” one said with a twinkle. “They’re getting on that well at Sunday school, I’m downright ashamed of mesen.”

When only Daniel and one other man were left, they began moving the tables and chairs swiftly into another arrangement. “This place is used for the charge hands and engineers to eat their midday meals, miss,” Daniel explained when he saw Martha watching them.

Penelope went over to the pile of books and papers on the table she had used. “I’ve brought you one of our old newspapers to read, Daniel. There’s an article in it on the spread of railways and the opportunities this has brought to ordinary people to see something outside their own parish. I think you might find it interesting.”

“I’ll do my best to read it then.”

“And if you’ll come round to our house tomorrow evening, we’ll work on those plans again.”

Ben came up as she spoke. “What plans?”

“For the modifications to your machinery. I’m helping Daniel draw up the plans.”

“We’re working you too hard, I think.”

She laughed. “Not at all. I’m enjoying myself.”

Ben moved on to speak to Martha and Penelope turned back to Daniel. As their glances caught, both stopped speaking to stare at one another.

Daniel took a deep breath. “I lay awake racking my brains last night and I couldn’t see what future we’d have together. It’d not be
fair
to you, so we shouldn’t even think of it.” His voice grew suddenly harsh. “You deserve a gentleman, not a common chap like me.”

She smiled serenely. “If this—
feeling
keeps happening between us, then we’ll have difficulty ignoring one another, shan’t we? Anyway, I don’t want to ignore you and I refuse to even try.”

“Are you allus this stubborn?”

“Yes.”

He muttered something under his breath, snatched the newspaper from her and stalked out of the room.

When he’d gone, Penelope stood lost in thought, completely unaware of the other two.

Ben looked at Martha. “Am I imagining it or is there something going on between those two?”

“If you’re imagining it, I am too.” She had seen the glances pass between them tonight and couldn’t dismiss her suspicions.

“Shall I have a word with him, tell him to stay away from your sister?”

“That’s more likely to drive Penelope into spending time with him. She can be very stubborn.”

“But she’s a lady . . . and he’s only . . . ” He shook his head. “Mind you, he’s a clever fellow and I think he’ll go far, given the chance. He has a feel for machinery that even Ross doesn’t. But still, I feel responsible.”

Martha could see that Penelope was lost in thought. “Don’t try to interfere. She’s a grown woman and has always made her own choices. Father didn’t approve of her previous fiancé, you know, but she insisted it was John or no one, and in the end Father had to give in. She looks gentle and easy-going but she’s one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met once her mind is fixed on something.”

He looked down at her with a slight frown. “I’d have thought you’d be the stubborn one.”

“Because she’s prettier? Even the most beautiful roses can have thorns, Mr Seaton.”

The words were out before he could stop himself. “I don’t think she’s prettier than you.”

Martha stared at him in shock and colour flooded her face.

Ben was upset to have embarrassed her. Yet he did think her the more attractive of the two sisters, especially now that he’d seen her with her hair loose. He’d remembered that moment several times and the strong desire he’d experienced to run his fingers through that shining mass. Which was stupid, really. He wasn’t in the market for a wife, any more than she was looking for a husband. She wore the plainest gowns, pinned her hair up to hide its beauty and made no attempt to flatter him, as other young women had done. Yes, somehow, she eclipsed them all in his eyes.

When her sister didn’t move, Martha went across to her, glad of an excuse to leave her present companion, who was still studying her in that disturbing way. “Surely you’re ready, Pen? Mr Seaton is waiting to escort us home.”

“What? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about something.”

None of them said much on their way back across town.

When the two sisters got inside the house Martha said firmly, “We need to talk, you and I.”

Penelope sighed but went with her into the parlour. “About what?”

“You and Mr Porter.”

“Oh. Is it so obvious? I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Well, not only did
I
notice how friendly you were with him but so did Mr Seaton.”

“That’s all there is at the moment, Martha dear, just friendliness and the possibility of something more. Daniel is very adamant that it isn’t possible, but I don’t happen to agree.” She looked at her sister. “It was the same with John. I knew at once that I was attracted to him.”

“But John was a gentleman and Mr Porter is a poor man! He’s not even properly educated!”

“At the moment. But he has excellent prospects, Mr Seaton tells me. This town and the rest of Lancashire are full of self-made men living in comfortable circumstances after a poor start. Why should Daniel not be another? And why should I not help him?”

Martha couldn’t find an answer to this. “You won’t—do anything rash, will you?”

“No, of course not. We can’t. He has no money and I’m not a fool. Now, I want to go to bed. I’m tired and those children are full of energy.” And Daniel was coming round again the next evening. She wanted to look her best for him.

“I worry that you’re taking on too much.”

Penelope shook her head. “I’m doing what I was meant to do, helping my fellow human beings. It makes me feel alive again.”

Martha watched her go, thinking how happy her sister looked, then went to sit beside the fire for a few minutes longer and try to work out what to do about Daniel Porter. But she kept thinking about Ben Seaton instead, so in the end gave up trying to make any plans and went to bed.

“I heard tell as how Porter has some ideas for improving the machinery and cutting down the fluff,” Gerry said as he joined his master for their usual evening chat once the operatives had gone home.

“I heard the same thing.”

Gerry often marvelled at the way Noll picked up information about things that were going on. “They say that schoolteacher, the younger one, is helping him with the drawings for the new parts.”

“Is she, now? I hadn’t heard
that!”

Gerry hid his satisfaction at knowing more than Noll. “He goes round to their house at night after work.”

“You’d think a lady would know better than to entertain a chap like that. She’ll be causing talk about the two of them.”

They both laughed heartily at the mere idea of a lady dealing with Porter in that sense.

“She’ll be doing it to please Seaton,” Gerry said comfortably. “Maybe she’s setting her cap at him.”

After a short pause, Noll said thoughtfully, “I’d pay a bit to see those sketches. Maybe I’ll send for Jack and ask him to find me a burglar.”