Pauper's Gold (41 page)

‘Oh, it was an old system whereby we took orphan children from the workhouse and gave them an apprenticeship here.’

He made it sound so philanthropic, as if the Critchlow family had been doing these poor, unfortunate children a favour. As he went on, Hannah realized that Adam thought that was exactly what
they had done.

‘We gave them a home and there was even a nice couple who ran the apprentice house. It was like one big, happy family for those poor kids. The kind of home that a lot of them had never
known. I don’t suppose being born and brought up in a workhouse could be much fun.’

No, Hannah could have answered. And it wasn’t much fun being indentured to your family either. But in fairness, she thought, he was right about one thing. The Bramwells had been a nice
couple. Carefully, she asked, ‘So, where was this – what did you call it – the house?’

‘The apprentice house. It’s the one near the old schoolroom on the end of the row of houses directly behind the mill.’

‘And do the couple who ran it still live there?’ she asked deliberately, wondering if he knew any more than the Grundys.

‘Oh no, the house is empty now. The Bramwells left. Went away somewhere. I’m not sure what they’re doing now.’ And he sounded as if he didn’t really care either.
The Bramwells had been thrown out of their job and their home and he didn’t even know for sure what had become of them.

Hannah felt a cold chill run through her. Was Adam more like his father than she’d thought?

‘Why did it finish? This . . . this apprentice system?’

‘Laws were passed for shorter working hours for children, more schooling and such like. All very praiseworthy, but uneconomical from our point of view.’

Hannah had to bite down hard on her lower lip to stop the words bursting out. He sounded almost regretful at the ending of a system that had enslaved young children to fill the coffers of the
already rich and powerful. She wondered if he’d ever realized just what the lives of the children had been like: the long hours of gruelling work, the punishments for any kind of
misdemeanour, however trivial. The fines, the beatings and the punishment room. She said no more, relieved that her slip in mentioning the punishment room had not resulted in him asking awkward
questions.

There was a long silence between them. They stood with their arms about each other watching the ducks swimming serenely on the river, the fish jumping . . .

As they walked home, hand in hand, Adam still had not said the words Hannah wanted to hear.

Three weeks later, Adam came into the workroom and, not caring now who saw them together, he walked straight up to Hannah at her machine.

‘He’s coming home. He’ll be back here next week. I’ve had a letter. Roper’s written to tell him about us. He’s so angry, threatening, well, all
sorts.’

‘To throw us both out, you mean?’

Adam avoided her gaze. ‘Well, sort of, but worse.’

‘Worse? What do you mean – worse?’

‘Look, we can’t talk here. Come up to the office as soon as you can. I’ll wait for you there. We’ll have to decide what to do.’

Without waiting for her reply, he turned and walked away, his shoulders hunched, a look of desperation on his face.

As soon as she could, Hannah left her work and hurried after him. As she moved through the long room Daniel stepped out in front of her. ‘Trouble in paradise, is there? He went out of here
looking as if the world was going to end.’

‘Maybe it is,’ Hannah said tartly. ‘
His
world anyway.’

She side-stepped around him and would have hurried away, but Daniel caught hold of her arm. ‘Be careful, Hannah. I mean it. Just be very careful what you’re doing.’ For the
first time, there was genuine anxiety in his eyes. ‘They’re powerful people. They’ll stop at nothing.’

Hannah nodded. ‘I know,’ she said huskily, touched by his concern. ‘But you see, Daniel, there’s nothing they can do to hurt me. Not now. Not any more.’

Roper was not in the outer office, and as Hannah opened the door to the inner room, she saw Adam sitting at the desk, his head in his hands.

At the sound of her entrance he looked up. ‘Oh, Anna, what are we to do? What
are
we to do?’

Hannah bit her lip. She didn’t want to be the one to suggest it. She wanted the words to come from him.

He rose and came round the desk to her, taking her in his arms and burying his face against her neck. ‘I love you, Hannah. I love you so much. I can’t bear to lose you. And once my
father comes home, that’s what will happen. He . . . he’s threatening to have you arrested.’

‘Arrested? Whatever for? On what charge?’

‘I . . . I don’t know. But he’ll think of something. He always does. And . . . and he has friends who’ll help him.’

I could have told you that
, she thought bitterly, but aloud she said, ‘Then I must leave, straight away.’

‘No,’ he clasped her to him as if he would prevent her physically from walking away from him. ‘I won’t let you go. We . . . we’ll get married. Now. Right away.
Before he comes home. Then there won’t be a thing he can do about it.’

Hannah was triumphant. She put her arms about him and pressed herself to his chest, hiding her face so that he should not read her feelings showing clearly on her face. ‘Are you
sure?’ she whispered, injecting into her tone all the trembling delight and yet at the same time uncertainty that she could muster. ‘You said yourself he’s a powerful
man.’

‘When he’s got used to the idea, when he’s had time to meet you, to get to know you, he’ll love you too. I know he will.’

Hannah said nothing.

‘If only my grandfather was still alive,’ Adam went on. ‘He’d’ve been on my side. In his eyes, I could do no wrong.’

Hannah said nothing. Though Nathaniel had not been quite so bad as his son, Edmund, she had vowed to hate all Critchlows. With a vengeance.

It was all arranged with such speed that Hannah wondered inwardly at the legality of it all.

‘We’ve to go to a place in Yorkshire.’ Adam grinned boyishly. ‘It’s like a local Gretna Green. No questions asked. It’ll be quite a journey and we’ll
have to stay there for a while. In separate rooms until we’re married,’ he added hastily, in case she was thinking he meant to seduce her and then not go through with the marriage.
‘Can you be ready tomorrow morning? We’ll leave early.’

Hannah’s eyes shone, not with the happiness as Adam saw it, but with victory. ‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘I can be ready.’

‘I’ll be leaving tomorrow, Mrs Grundy. I just want to thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me. I know it hasn’t been easy for you especially
. . . especially because you think I’ve been unfair to Ted.’

‘I do,’ Lily said shortly. ‘Anyway, that’s as maybe. Least said, soonest mended, I suppose.’ She eyed Hannah. ‘So your fancy plans didn’t work out then?
You’re going back home, are yer? Back to Macclesfield?’

Hannah shook her head. ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m going away with Adam Critchlow. We’re going to be married.’

They returned to Millersbrook Manor hand in hand to face Adam’s father like two naughty school children caught stealing apples. But their sin was far greater than
taking fruit from a neighbour’s orchard.

‘He’ll be home by now,’ Adam said as they walked down the hill and through the dale. ‘He’ll know.’

‘Know what?’

‘That we’re married.’

Hannah’s eyes widened. She had achieved what she’d schemed for, yet now that the moment had come to face Mr Edmund, her resolve almost failed her. She was still afraid, deep down,
that he had the power to hurt her.

And her fear was mirrored in Adam’s face.

It was almost dusk as they passed the Grundys’ farm. Hannah was thankful that there was no one about; the last people she wanted to see at that moment were either of the Grundys or, worse
still, Ted.

They climbed the steep hill through the village until they came to the driveway leading to the big house perched on top of the cliff overlooking the river flowing through the dale below.

‘Well, here we are.’ Adam turned to her and, forcing a lightness into his tone that she knew he wasn’t feeling, he said, ‘I suppose I ought to carry you over the
threshold.’

Hannah laughed weakly. ‘I don’t think you’d better.’

‘Oh, what the hell . . . ?’ He dropped their bags to the ground and swung her into his arms. ‘You pull the bell.’

They waited for what seemed an age, feeling rather foolish, until the heavy front door swung open and the Critchlows’ butler stood there. For once, even the straight-faced manservant
couldn’t hide his surprise.

‘Master Adam and . . . and . . .’ he faltered not knowing how to refer to the girl being carried by the young master.

‘And Mrs Anna Critchlow,’ Adam said as he walked into the house and deposited Hannah on the floor. Ignoring the manservant’s presence, Adam bent and kissed her. ‘Welcome
home, Mrs Critchlow.’

The butler coughed discreetly. ‘The master is in the library, Master Adam. I . . . er . . . think he would want to see you straight away.’

Adam took hold of Hannah’s hand. ‘Come on, let’s get it over with then.’ He crossed the hall, pulling her along with him. Her heart was thumping painfully as he opened
the door and they entered the room.

Edmund Critchlow was standing in front of the fireplace. Tall and broad, just as she remembered him. Yet, as she drew closer, she could see that there were noticeable differences even in the
three and a half years since she’d last seen him. His dark hair was now flecked with white. His undeniably handsome face was florid, his skin blotchy. The excesses of the life he lived were
beginning to take their toll and show on his features. But his eyes were just the same: hard and cruel and vindictive.

He scarcely glanced at Hannah and she kept her head lowered in submissive meekness. She left the talking – such as he was given chance to do – to Adam.

‘You can pack your bags and be gone from this house.’

‘Father—’

‘You are a disgrace to the name of Critchlow. I never want to see you or this . . . this slut again.’

‘She’s no slut, she’s—’

‘Then pray tell me – who is she? Where does she come from and who are her family?’

The questions were genuine. He didn’t know who she was – not yet. Hannah thought fleetingly of Josiah Roper. Whatever game of his own he was playing was certainly working to her
advantage at the moment. He had not revealed her identity.

Adam faced his father squarely. ‘She’s the girl I love. She’s my wife.’

Edmund stared for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed a loud, cruel sound. ‘Ha! You silly young cub, you don’t have to marry ’em just because you get ’em with
child. If I’d married every one of them, I’d have a veritable harem.’ He eyed Adam keenly. ‘You mean you’ve actually been through a ceremony with her?’

Adam ran his tongue around his dry lips. ‘Yes, a week ago. And – since you brought the subject up – she is not expecting my child. We . . . we didn’t lie together until
after the marriage.’

Now Edmund stared at his son in disbelief. ‘Then, boy, you are more of a milksop and a fool than even I thought you. Love ’em and leave ’em. That should be your motto. Far
safer.’

Listening, Hannah was seething. She could scarcely contain her rage. All the years of bitterness and resentment, the years of hatred, welled up inside her. But now was not the time. She must
wait. Whatever it cost her not to speak up right this minute, she must hold her tongue. This was only the beginning.

Edmund was pacing the hearth in front of the roaring fire in the huge grate. ‘What am I to do with you, boy? Thank God your grandfather is not alive to see this day. It would have broken
his heart. He lived only to see the mill pass down the generations. How could you do this to his memory, Adam? How could you do it to me? Everything I hold dear is wrapped up in this mill and in
you. I have worked and schemed to pass on a great inheritance to you. And this!’ He flung his arm out towards Hannah. ‘This is how you repay me.’

‘Father, I—’

Edmund held up his hand, palm outwards. ‘Not another word, boy. Go to your room. I’ll talk to you later – when I have decided what to do.’

Adam stood his ground. ‘There’s nothing to decide. I’ve thought it all out. I know exactly what I’m doing.’

‘I don’t think so—’ Edmund began nastily, but Adam interrupted with surprising calm.

‘I am your only
legitimate
son and heir.’ The accent on the word legitimate startled Hannah. So, Adam knew about his father’s philandering. A spark of anger ignited against her new husband. But then, she realized, what could a young man do against his own father? At least, Adam appeared determined not to follow in his sire’s footsteps. That was a point in his favour. She listened now as he went on. ‘If you wish us to leave, then so be it. But I hope you will reconsider. If you don’t want us to live here – in this house – then we can move into the apprentice house. We can no doubt take in lodgers as well as work at the mill. That is – if we still
have jobs at the mill.’

Edmund’s only answer was a grunt as he still paced up and down the hearth. At last he said, ‘Go. Get out of my sight. Leave me to think.’

‘But if you’d only talk to Anna – get to know her.’

‘I have no wish to get to know her. Go, Adam, just go.’

They went up to Adam’s room to wait whilst their fate was decided.

‘He’ll come around,’ Adam said confidently as he closed the bedroom door behind them and took her in his arms. ‘It’s just a shock for him, that’s
all.’

Hannah hugged him in return and buried her head against his shoulder. She was experiencing a strange, unexpected tumult of emotions. She’d achieved her goal – or almost. Edmund was
beside himself with rage, and he’d be devastated when, to cap everything, he found out who she really was. She’d have achieved it all then. But revenge didn’t taste as sweet as
she’d anticipated.

She’d reckoned without Adam. He’d been but a pawn in her dangerous game. She’d not spared a thought for him. And she’d believed herself immune to any feelings of sympathy
for him.