Marrying Miss Martha (24 page)

He looked up and forgot to be sensible. “Oh, I do. For me, it happened that first day I rescued you. I should be more sensible, though, and stay away from you. Seaton won’t like it, I’m sure.”

Her eyes flashed. “Just let him dare interfere in
my
life!”

Their glances caught, held and for a moment or two it was enough for them simply to be together. Then Penelope gave him a quick smile, before bending her head over the drawings again.

His smile was particularly warm and then he followed suit.

A few days later at lunch time, Hepzibah banged a plate down in front of Ben so hard that he looked up in surprise.

“What’s wrong?”

“That sister of yours is what’s wrong.”

“What’s Georgie done now?”

“She hasn’t done anything, but she’s moping—and she’s not eating like a lass that age should. You’re fair keeping her a prisoner, Mr Ben. It’s not right.”

“I know she’s unhappy and I don’t like to keep her so confined, but what else am I to do? I’ll not have her associating with Brindley and he seems to be seeking her out.”

“He’s not like his father, Mr Peter isn’t. Weak, perhaps, but not evil, that young man. You’d no need to stop him speaking to Georgie. Girls that age need admirers, even when nothing’s going to come of it.”

Ben was astonished. Hepzibah didn’t usually criticise her employer.

“You need to do something about her, Mr Ben, something different from locking her up.”

“Everyone keeps telling me that, but no one tells me
what
to do.”

She looked at him indulgently, as if she were an adult and he a particularly stupid child. “Find yourself a wife, of course. If Georgie had a woman to talk to and people visiting the house regularly, she’d cheer up in a minute.”

He gaped at her, then snapped, “I’m not interested in finding myself a wife, as you well know.”

“Well, you should be. Let alone that sister of yours needs a mother,
you
need a proper family. What sort of life is it you lead, sitting on your own at night and working till all hours?”

“Hepzibah, please.”

“I must speak out when I see things that need mending and could be mended quite easily, for your mother’s sake and for the love I bear you, lad. Who else is there to tell you, now?”

His voice was gentler when he answered. “Even if I agreed with you, where would I find a wife?”

She smiled at him, a knowing smile. “You’ve found one already, if only you’ll admit it to yourself. That schoolteacher, the older one. I’ve seen you looking at her—and her looking at you. She’d suit you down to the ground, that one would. No nonsense about her, yet she’s bonny enough to tempt a man.”

Shock made it difficult for him to answer her. Were his reactions to Martha so obvious? “While I respect Miss Merridene greatly, yes, and like her too, I’m not intending to court her, Hepzibah, because I’m
not
looking for a wife.”

“Well, you should be. But I’ve spoken my piece now so I’ll hold my tongue.” She picked up the tray and stalked out of the room, radiating disapproval.

He shook out his newspaper and tried to take what she had said with a pinch of humour, but somehow he couldn’t. Find himself a wife indeed!

But the thought of what his housekeeper had said came back to him again and again, and his employees found him very absent-minded that day, as did his sister during the evening.

He lay awake for a long time in his comfortable bed, unable to sleep, thoughts twisting round and round in his brain. Find a wife indeed! And fancy Hepzibah suggesting Martha Merrifield? Why, if ever he’d seen a confirmed spinster, it was she.

But even as he turned over and punched his pillow, which seemed unaccountably hard tonight, he remembered how pretty Martha had looked with her hair loose, or how her face glowed with happiness when she was playing with the Wright children. He’d seen the small group several times, because they often walked past his mill to get out of town and up to the freedom of the moors.

Martha was good with Georgie, too, but that was no reason to consider marrying her. He’d vowed when Amanda jilted him that he’d never give himself into a woman’s power again, and he’d meant it.

Besides, you didn’t marry to get a keeper for your sister. You married because you wanted the woman.

Hepzibah was wrong. Definitely wrong. He liked Martha, but that was all. And he liked her sister, too. Both ladies were hard workers and you had to admire that.

But he dreamed of Martha that night, a wonderful happy dream in which they were married. It wasn’t the first time she’d entered his dreams, but it was the first time she’d figured there as his wife.

And it was a long time since he’d felt so happy in his personal life.

* * * *

A few streets away Noll ate his last bite of cake and looked at his son over the dinner table. “You’ve been in a miserable mood today. What’s up?”

Peter glanced quickly sideways, trying to estimate his father’s mood. “You may as well know. Seaton caught me talking to Georgie this morning behind the church and has forbidden me to speak to her again. He’s having her escorted to and from school by that old maid of theirs from now on, so I’m afraid I’ve lost my opportunity to win her trust.”

“Hmm. Well, we’d better think what to do next, then. It’s about time we made a move any road. I’m sick of hanging about, letting Seaton get ahead. It’ll be good to take him down a peg or two. How’s that arm?”

“Better. Just aches a little at times.”

“Good, because it’s about time we made our move.”

“I really don’t want to kidnap Georgie.”

“Don’t want!
Don’t want!
You’ll do as I damned well tell you.”

“But I—”

“Not another word! I want this settled.”

Peter shook his head, but said nothing more. However, he had no intention of treating Georgie like that and if he found out any details of his father’s plot, he’d warn her. He pushed the rest of his breakfast around the plate, but couldn’t eat it. What was he to do with himself today? And tomorrow? And all the weary days that stretched ahead of him?

He couldn’t go on like this. But every time he tried to make plans to leave, it came back to the same thing: he hadn’t a penny of his own, had no way of earning any money and his father refused to give him even the smallest allowance.

* * * *

The following morning when Georgie arrived at school, Martha gave Hepzibah, who had accompanied her, a note for her master.

Georgie watched this in apprehension and as soon as the housekeeper had left, blurted out, “What have I done now?”

“Nothing at all, dear. I just want to speak to your brother about something, that’s all.”

Which left the girl wondering and worrying all day.

That evening after their meal Martha sat in the parlour, waiting for her visitor. She asked Penelope to stay with her because she wanted no more of those embarrassing moments when the world seemed to stop moving around her and Ben Seaton. She hadn’t even confided in her sister about these incidents, because she found them so disconcerting.

Just before eight o’clock there was a knock on the front door and Sally appeared to say that Mr Porter had arrived.

Penelope stood up. “Would you mind if I just took him through to the schoolroom and settled him down, Martha dear? I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Don’t be too long. It wouldn’t look right for me to receive Mr Seaton on my own.”

Penelope smiled as she led Daniel along the corridor and when they got into the schoolroom, she shut the door and went to put some more coal on the fire. “I’m not going back to join them,” she announced.

He looked at her in puzzlement.

“Martha’s expecting Mr Seaton and I think she’s attracted to him—and he to her. Who knows what will happen if they’re left on their own together?”

He grinned. “I think if you make up your mind to it, you’ll have them getting wed whether they want to or not.”

She shook her head very decidedly. “No, I won’t. If there isn’t that spark of affection between two people, it’s wrong to marry, I’m quite sure of that.”

“And if the spark flies between the wrong people?” he asked.

“It’s up to them to decide what’s right and wrong.”

He let out a growl of exasperation. “Every time I come here, I’m resolved to tell you it can’t work between us, for your sake.”

She moved across to lay her hand on his arm. “If you’re not attracted to me, Daniel, you have only to say so and I’ll leave you alone.”

And heaven help him, he couldn’t resist pulling her towards him and kissing her soundly, which seemed a better answer to her question than mere words could ever be.

When he drew away from her, she linked her arms round his neck and pulled him closer again, savouring the feel of his skin, his lips, his lean body against hers. Neither heard the front door knocker when it sounded.

“You’re a witch,” he said hoarsely when the kiss ended.

“Ah, Daniel, for once let’s meet without agonising over this,” she murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder.

They stood like that for quite a while before settling to work on the drawings, which were nearing completion. She found herself finishing sentences for him, understanding instinctively what he needed, and he was doing the same with her.

“We work well together,” she said at one point.

“Aye.” He allowed himself a lingering glance then forced himself to concentrate. If he was to have any chance of winning her, he must make something of himself.

For the first time he allowed himself to hope—or maybe dream was a better word.

* * * *

That morning Ben had an encounter with Noll Brindley, who stopped him in the street to ask why he was trying to prevent Peter from so much as passing the time of day with Miss Georgie. “I take exception to your attitude, Seaton, I tell you frankly. There’s nowt wrong with my son. He’s been brought up a gentleman an’ has excellent manners.”

“I shall do as I see fit with my sister.”

“I pity that lass. You’re keeping her a prisoner.”

Ben was furious to hear Noll echoing Hepzibah’s words. “How I treat my sister is none of your business. Just tell your son to keep away from her, that’s all.”

Noll’s expression turned ugly. “Think you’re better than the rest of us, you Seatons, don’t you? Your father was just as toffee-nosed. Well, you’re no better than us Brindleys and I’ll tell our Peter no such thing.”

“Then I shall continue to take my own measures to protect Georgie. Now, I have work to do.” Ben walked away and when he glanced back at the corner, saw the other man still scowling in his direction. What had got into Brindley, who normally passed by with the slightest of nods? Surely the fellow hadn’t cherished any hopes for his son and Georgie? The very thought of that disgusted Ben and made him even more determined to keep Peter away from his sister.

He went home to find a letter from Belinda regretting that she would have to postpone having Georgie over to visit her in York. They were busy redecorating the house and all was at sixes and sevens. He knew his sister had been eagerly anticipating the visit, which had been arranged a while ago, and his heart sank at the thought of telling her.

What next?

When he opened the final letter in the pile, which had been hand delivered, he found out: a summons from Miss Merridene, no doubt to complain about Georgie’s behaviour. What else could she want to see him for?

He worried about it all day, but as Miss Merridene has asked, said nothing about it to his sister.

* * * *

When Sally showed a dour Ben Seaton into the parlour, he sat down with such a grim expression that Martha looked at him in surprise and forgot what she had been going to say.

“You wanted to see me about Georgie?” he prompted.

“Yes.” Taking a deep breath, she tried to speak calmly, but however much she’d rehearsed what she wanted to tell him, she’d not found a way that pleased her, so in the end said baldly, “I’m worried about her.”

“What has she been doing now?”

“Nothing. Why do you automatically think she’s been misbehaving?”

“Because that’s what she keeps doing.” He rubbed his forehead, which was aching.

 When he looked across at her, Martha was staring down at her lap, pulling the material of her skirt into more even pleats. She glanced up and caught his eye, taking a deep breath before she spoke. “I think the only reason Georgie misbehaves is to get people’s attention. She’s very lonely. And she gets angry when you treat her as a child, because she isn’t really a child any more.”

“I know she’s lonely. I do care about my sister, you know. I’ve tried to talk to her, take her for walks at weekends, share my work with her, but she’s not interested.”

“At her age, Mr Seaton, she isn’t likely to be interested in what’s happening inside your mill, though you may get her to go for walks with you now that she’s got proper shoes, especially once the weather improves. What she does cares about are the same things as other girls of her age: young men—only there aren’t any suitable ones to practise on in Tapton; clothes—but obviously you can’t share that interest; and social life—only there are no girls of her own age and class here for her to make friends with and you have no social life of the sort she’s used to.”

He shook his head, grimacing a little at this all too accurate summary of the situation, but didn’t say anything, waiting to see what Martha would suggest as a solution.

“From chance remarks she’s made, I gather Georgie’s mother has hurt her greatly. She tries to hide her feelings, but sometimes I catch a look of sadness on her face.”

He folded his arms and scowled at her, not needing this rubbing in. “What do you suggest I do, then?”

“She needs female friends, so I wondered if perhaps—well, maybe you could find a school for young ladies and send her there, just for a year, so that she could make friends of her own age?”

“That’s the last thing I’d have expected you to say! You’d lose half your income, and what about this house?”

She was startled. “Would you turn us out?”