Marrying Miss Martha (27 page)

Wind whistled round her and she shivered as she tried to pull the cloak round her more warmly. Tears tracked down her cheeks as she walked. What did they want with Miss Georgie? Why hadn’t she taken better care of the lass? She should have guessed that a strange carriage standing behind the church meant no good.

Darkness was falling fast and she tried to hurry, but the snow made the going difficult and when she fell heavily, she stopped trying to hurry and concentrated only on getting back to Mr Ben in one piece. He’d know what to do, if anyone would.

But how would he find Miss Georgie? It was dark now and she still had some distance to go. Her limbs felt heavy and she was so cold it was an effort to keep moving. When she saw the lights of a farm and found a track leading in that direction, she sobbed in relief and began to stumble towards the lights.

Hammering on the door she called for help. Someone opened it and a voice said, “Nay, it’s a woman, our Hettie.”

The man put an arm round her and led her inside. She was shivering violently and couldn’t stop weeping.

* * * *

When Nan came across to the mill and burst into his office without knocking, Ben guessed something was wrong before she even spoke and was round the desk to her side. “What is it?”

“Hepzibah and Miss Georgie haven’t come back, sir. And they won’t have gone to the shops, not in weather like this. Look how hard it’s snowing now.”

He frowned out at the whirling snow. “I’ll go and see if they’re still at school. You go back to the house.” Throwing on the old cloak he used for crossing the mill yard and cramming his hat on his head, he ran out into the whiteness and within minutes was at the villa, where the glow from the lamp inside the hall shone out softly on the falling snow through the panes of coloured glass. He hammered on the door and as Meg opened it, asked at once, “Is Georgie still here?”

“No, sir. Everyone went home early today because of the snow.”

Martha appeared in the doorway of the parlour. “Do come in and close the door. What’s wrong?”

As he followed her into the cosy warmth, he announced, “Georgie and Hepzibah haven’t come home.” He saw the surprise on both sisters’ faces. “I wanted to know if they were here, but Meg said they’d left early.”

“They did,” Penelope confirmed.

“I’ll go and ask around town then. Perhaps they went to the shops.”

Martha shook her head. “I shouldn’t think so. You know how Georgie hates the cold. She was complaining about having to walk home in the snow.”

“I’ll still have to check whether anyone’s seen them. Please excuse me.”

When he’d gone, Martha paced up and down the parlour a few times, then declared, “I’m putting on my boots and cloak and going after him. If something’s wrong, he may need a woman’s help with Georgie.”

Penelope didn’t attempt to argue. “Should I come with you?”

“No. It’ll be best if you wait here.” She paused at the door. “She can’t have run away, surely?”

“On a day like this? And with Hepzibah? Definitely not.”

Martha left as soon as she was warmly clad, not even thinking that the lane was dark and no one around. She’d have run if the ground underfoot hadn’t been slippery with snow. The mill was lit up brightly but the house beside it showed only a lamp outside the front door and a dim light inside the front parlour.

As she raised her hand to knock, footsteps hurried up and Ben joined her. “I thought you might need a woman’s help if—” she hesitated, then said it, “—in case anything has happened to them.”

“That was kind of you.” He threw open the door and waved her inside.

“Is there any news of them at all?” she asked before he had even closed the door.

“No. They definitely didn’t go into town after they left your house.”

In the hall, which was lit by an oil lamp on the wall, she raised her eyes to his face, hating to see how ravaged by anxiety he looked. “Is there trouble with Brindley’s workers again? Could they have attacked them?”

“I very much doubt it. It’s been very quiet lately in town. And on a day like this . . . well, I’m at a loss to think what can have happened to them.” He saw her shiver and realised they were still standing in the hall. “Come into the parlour. There’ll be a fire there.” While he busied himself making it blaze, she turned up the lamps.

He stood holding his hands out to the warmth of the fire and gesturing to her to join him. “Where can she be? And Hepzibah’s missing too. Georgie might do something foolish, but Hepzibah definitely wouldn’t. All I can think of is that someone else must be involved.” After a pause, he added, “It was kind of you to come. I’m going to close the mill early and set some of the workers from the mill to searching for Georgie.”

“I could stay here in case she returns and needs a woman’s help, if you like.”

His gaze was warm. “Would you?”

“Of course.”

“It’s particularly kind after I was so rude to you the other day. I do apologise for that, Martha. Sometimes I’m a bit too sharp, I know.”

“That’s all right.”

Their glances locked for a moment or two, then he said, “Let me show you through to the kitchen. There’s only Nan here today, as Cook’s mother’s ill, but I’m sure if you need anything, Nan will be able to get it for you. She’s very willing, but not good at thinking for herself, so I’ll be doubly glad to have you here.”

When he’d gone, Martha left Nan and went back to the parlour. After pacing up and down, she picked up a novel which she herself had lent to Georgie but soon put it down again. Again and again she was drawn to the window, looking out and praying to see them returning. But there was only the snow and an occasional passer-by hurrying to get out of the cold.

The siren shrieked its message early and soon the operatives were pouring through the gates, some talking earnestly, others with their heads down, their only thought to get home.

A short time later a group of men, Ben and Daniel Porter among them, came out of the mill yard and headed off in different directions.

The search had begun.

Time seemed to pass very slowly and after a while, she went to the kitchen and asked Nan for a pot of tea. The maid had tears on her cheeks and was so upset she nearly scalded herself when she tried to fill the teapot from the big kettle. Martha jumped forward to take the cloth from her and push the kettle back on to the hob.

“Oh, miss! Miss, I’m that sorry.” Nan began weeping again. “Where can they be?”

“I don’t know, but getting hysterical isn’t going to do anyone any good,” she said firmly as the sobbing continued. “Pull yourself together, Nan, and we’ll both have a cup of tea. After that we should make sure there’s plenty of hot water, yes and food too. Ben’s sent out some of his men to hunt for signs of Georgie and Hepzibah and they’ll be cold and famished when they return. Some hot soup might be good too, perhaps? Are you anything of a cook or shall I see what I can find and make it.”

“Oh, miss—” Nan’s face crumpled again.

Martha spoke with deliberate sharpness. “No more tears! We’re going to need your help. What about the soup?”

“There’s a leg of lamb and the gravy from yesterday. I can make some broth quite quickly. Cook’s been teaching me for a while now.” She took a deep breath and gave Martha a wavery smile.

“Good.”

For a time they worked together, Martha peeling potatoes and chopping onions and Nan cutting up the meat.

When there was nothing left to do but let the soup simmer in the big pan, Martha suddenly wondered where they were to feed the searchers, because there wasn’t enough room in the kitchen. She fetched her cloak and went out to find the watchman, persuading him to light a fire in the old mill and herself lit the lamps there. Even that short outing had her shivering by the time she returned to the house and she was covered in snowflakes. It was a dreadful night, the worst of the winter so far.

What if Georgie and Hepzibah were outside in such a storm?

Next she and Nan carried the big pan out to the schoolroom and set it on the closed stove there, which was now radiating a welcome warmth. The work of fetching bowls and cups across helped keep them warm, but each time they went outside they were assaulted by an icy wind as well as thickly falling snow.

Ben was the first to return, for he knew someone needed to direct operations. He paused in the doorway of the schoolroom for a moment to watch Martha and Nan. In just this way had his mother worked with their servants, not directing them from a distance, but sharing the tasks.

Martha felt the draught from the half-open door and swung round. When she caught sight of him she hurried across to close the door and help him off with his cloak. “You’re soaked!”

“Never mind me!”

“It’ll not help anyone if you catch your death of cold. Nan, will you go and fetch your master another coat, please?”

As the maid snatched up her cloak and hurried across the yard, Martha took Ben’s arm and pulled him across to the fire, then began tugging at his coat. “You’ve got to get this off.”

Bemused, he let her help him and even chafe his frozen hands, because of course he hadn’t thought of gloves and you couldn’t keep your hands crammed in your pockets all the time.

As they stood there by the closed stove, they both stilled and stared at one another.

“You’re a wonderful woman, Martha Merridene,” he said suddenly. “My mother would have been behaving in just the same way today.”

“I like to think I’m practical.”

He reached out to tuck back a strand of hair that had escaped. “More than that, Martha. Much more than that. You’re—”

The moment was lost and he cut off his next words sharply as Nan erupted into the room, shaking the snow from her shawl and hurrying across to him with a coat held out. “I brought you a muffler, too, sir, because there’s nothing like a muffler for making you feel warmer, I allus think.”

“Would you like a bowl of soup, Ben?” Martha asked. “We have some ready for the men who’ve been searching.”

She frowned as she thought she heard him say, “Dear, practical Martha,” in a low voice. But she must have been mistaken because he sat down at the nearest table and began spooning the hot soup Nan had brought him into his mouth, sighing with pleasure as its warmth slid down his throat.

One by one the men came back to the mill, to be directed by the watchman at the gate to the schoolroom, where they fell enthusiastically upon the meaty soup and bread, washed down intermittently with strong tea, as they reported their findings.

No one had seen Georgie or Hepzibah, but Daniel and another man had been told about a strange carriage.

“It was an old one, rather shabby,” Daniel said. “It turned into the square earlier and went round behind the church. Mr Perston, the chemist, noticed it and wondered where it was going, but he had some customers and didn’t see it leave. He thought it might be coming here.”

“We’ve seen no carriages,” Ben said, his voice harsh and his face deeply lined with worry. “And how can a strange carriage be connected with Georgie?”

“It’s all we have to go by, the only strangers seen in town.”

“Yes.”

“Brindleys will be stopping work soon,” Daniel offered when Ben said nothing more. “If you like, sir, I could go and ask one or two of my old friends there if they’ve seen anything unusual? The mill’s nearer the edge of town than you are. Maybe someone was looking out of the window and saw the carriage leaving? No one saw it on the other side of town, so it can’t have gone that way.”

Ben nodded, fumbling in his pocket and coming up with some coins. “Take them for a drink if you think it’ll loosen their tongues. But finish your soup first. It’ll do no good for you men to get chilled and catch your death of cold.”

Daniel nodded, spooned up the soup quickly and was soon off.

Ben looked at the other men. “Will you wait here for a while, in case we need you? You’ll be fed and I’ll pay you extra for your help.”

Ross Turner spoke automatically for the others. “Nay, sir, we need no payment to help with this. It’s the lass’s safety that counts. I don’t like to think of her and my cousin Hepzibah out in a blizzard like this, ’deed I don’t.”

There was a chorus of agreement and heads nodded vigorously.

“Thank you. I’m grateful.” Ben stood frowning in thought for a while, then asked Ross to go and tell Jonas Wright what had happened. He left the men sitting round the tables and beckoned to Martha. “I think they’ll be more comfortable on their own. And there’s nothing we can do at the moment,
nothing.”

His voice was so bitter, she put her hand on his arm and somehow found herself holding his hand as they chased across the yard with snow driving against their faces in fat wet flakes that were piling up on all the ledges and windowsills now.

When they got inside the kitchen, he let go of her hand and brushed the snow from her hair and face. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“So am I. You shouldn’t be facing this alone.”

“But I’m glad it’s
you
, Martha. I don’t think anyone else could help me as much.”

She stared at him in shock. What did he mean by that?

He looked down at her. “This isn’t the time to talk of what’s between us. But we shall do once Georgie is back.”

To hide her confusion, Martha went to hold her hands out towards the fire, which gave her the opportunity to turn her back to him. He couldn’t mean . . . surely not . . . ? She was well past that sort of thing, at almost twenty-nine.

Wasn’t she?

He watched her with a wry smile on his face. He knew she felt something for him, you couldn’t mistake a mutual attraction. But she had seemed shocked at what he said. Well, she’d just have to get used to the idea. Her behaviour tonight had set the final seal on the feelings he too had been denying. She was a woman in a million. Hepzibah was right.

Then his mind turned back to Georgie and anxiety took over once more.

When there was a knock on the front door Martha was greatly relieved because she hadn’t dared look at Ben in case she’d mistaken his meaning.

And in case he saw how confused she was about her own feelings.