Without Sin (23 page)

Jake sighed. He hated having to be the one to tell the poor woman what her daughter was doing and, even worse, that Meg didn’t want to see her own mother. He tried to soften the blow, but
without deliberately lying. ‘She’s been ill. Had a heavy cold and – and Mr Rodwell’s let her stay at his house.’

Sarah stared at him. ‘But – but – he lives alone, doesn’t he? I mean – he’s engaged to Miss Finch, isn’t he?
She
doesn’t live there, does
she?’

Jake was obliged to shake his head.

Sarah was silent for a moment as the implications unravelled themselves in her mind. Then she covered her mouth with trembling fingers. ‘Oh no!’ she breathed. ‘You mean –
you mean that Meg is living there alone with Mr Rodwell.’

Again Jake just nodded.

‘But what will people say? I mean, they’re saying enough about me. I don’t matter, but Meg—’ She paused again and her eyes widened. ‘This is all my fault,
isn’t it? She’s doing this to pay me back.’ Sarah closed her eyes and rocked backwards and forwards. ‘She was disgusted at me and yet now she’s harming herself. No one
will believe that nothing’s going on between them.’ Her eyes flew open again as she asked breathlessly, ‘Does Miss Finch know?’

‘ ’Fraid so.’

Sarah groaned, then she brightened visibly. ‘But maybe that’s just as well. She’ll either put a stop to it or – or give her approval and if his fiancée approves
then people can’t think . . .’

Her voice trailed away as she saw Jake’s solemn expression. ‘Nothing will stop the talk, missis. It’s already started.’

‘Now, Percy, I’ve come to get this matter sorted out once and for all.’ Clara appeared at the shop the following morning and faced Percy across the counter.
‘About this girl—’

At that moment Meg appeared from the workroom. Hearing the woman’s shrill voice, she came through at once. ‘You mean “this girl”, Miss Finch?’

‘I’m talking to my fiancé. This has nothing to do with you.’

‘I think it has everything to do with me, Miss Finch. Mr Rodwell was kind enough to give me a bed in his spare room for a couple of nights whilst I get the rooms above the shop cleaned
out. Then I’ll be moving in here.’

‘Over my dead body,’ Clara spat. ‘You should be back in the workhouse, where you belong.’ Her lip curled. ‘I’m sure you could usurp your mother’s place
if you smile nicely at the master. He likes young flesh. Only trouble is, he can’t often get it.’

‘Clara! Really, that’s quite enough.’

She rounded on Percy. ‘There’s no one here. None of your precious customers, who, let me tell you, will soon stop coming in here when they hear about your carryings on.’

‘And what carryings on would those be, Clara? And from whom are they going to hear it?’ Percy’s tone was deceptively mild, for there was a warning glint in his eyes. But if she
saw it, Clara took no notice.

‘Percy, I’m warning you. Get rid of this girl. If you don’t – then – then—’

‘Then what, Clara?’

‘Our engagement is at an end.’

Meg stood still, hardly daring to breathe. She had not expected matters to come to a head so quickly. It was what she wanted, but not like this. Miss Finch – and her brother – could
do untold harm to Percy and his business. And that was not what Meg wanted at all. She moved forward to stand beside Percy. It gave the impression that the two of them were ranged on one side,
facing Clara together.

‘Oh, please, Miss Finch. If you really don’t want me to live here, then . . . then . . .’ She forced the tears to fill her fine eyes and spill down her cheeks. ‘Then
– I’ll go back to the workhouse. But, please, don’t ask Mr Rodwell to dismiss me. I’m trying so very hard and I do want to better myself.’

Now Clara turned her vitriol against Meg. ‘Oho, I’ve no doubt you want to better yourself, girl. But don’t think I can’t see through your schemes, even if Percy here is
too blind. I know what you’re up to.’

As if mystified, Meg shook her head and widened her eyes innocently. ‘I don’t know what you mean, Miss Finch. All I know is that my father has betrayed his wife and family and now my
mother . . .’ She gulped and pressed her fingers to her mouth, as if the shame was too much to be spoken of aloud.

‘Exactly. Your mother is no better than she should be. And you, I’ve no doubt, are going down the same path to ruination. Well, you’re not dragging my Percy with you. Not
whilst there’s breath in my body, you’re not.’

Percy’s voice was calm, yet there was an unusual firmness in his tone as he said, ‘No one is dragging me anywhere. I can make up my own mind, especially about my business.
Meg—’

He got no further for Clara interrupted him with a wild screech. ‘Oh, “Meg”, is it now? So I was right all along.’

Percy continued as if she had not spoken. ‘Meg will remain in my employment and she will continue to live in my house. In my opinion,’ he went on, his steady gaze meeting
Clara’s hostile glare, ‘the rooms above here are quite unsuitable for anyone to inhabit.’

Clara gave a gasp and tottered backwards. She seemed about to fall, but she recovered herself. Pressing the palm of her hand to her chest as if she had a terrible pain there, she rasped,
‘I do declare, Percy, you’ve quite taken leave of your senses.’

When he made no move to go around the counter to her or even to say anything further, her eyes narrowed and she nodded. ‘Very well then. You leave me no alternative. I will not be a party
to this – this disgrace. As I said, Percy, you may consider our engagement to be at an end.’

They stared at one another for a few moments before he nodded slowly and said quietly, ‘As you wish, Clara.’

With one last surge of energy, Clara Finch shook her fist at him. ‘You’ve not heard the last of this, Percy Rodwell. Wait till my brother hears. Then we’ll see if you will
still have a business.’

As the sound of the shop bell died away after Clara’s indignant departure, Meg said, ‘Oh, Percy, I didn’t want that to happen. Go after her. Make it up with her. Please. I
couldn’t bear to be the cause of you being unhappy.’

Slowly, Percy turned to look down at her and there was a note of surprise in his tone as he said, ‘Don’t worry yourself about that, my dear. In fact, all I am feeling at this precise
moment is an overwhelming sense of relief.’

Percy closed the shop and they set off along the street.

‘I’ll just call in at the General Stores,’ he said. ‘Get a bottle of wine. This calls for a celebration.’

Meg looked up at him. ‘A celebration?’ Even she was surprised. ‘You mean – I mean – I thought you’d be devastated.’

‘Do I look devastated?’

‘No,’ Meg agreed, trying to keep her face straight. Percy was smiling, but then that was his right. She must not let her own feelings show, the flutterings of excitement in the pit
of her stomach as her plan began to form and take shape and, yes, began to happen.

‘When we get home . . .’ He savoured the words. ‘When we get home, if you make the meal, I’ll light the fire in the front room and we – we’ll have a nice,
cosy evening together.’ Suddenly, he was unsure. ‘Is – is that all right?’

She smiled radiantly. ‘Of course it is. Just what we both need.’
Thank goodness
, Meg was thinking,
that I had already planned a special meal tonight
.

Percy stopped outside the grocer’s. ‘What wine should I get? White or red?’

‘But we’ve some left from last night—’

He waved aside her protest. ‘I want to celebrate,’ he said firmly.

‘Well, it’s roast chicken.’

His eyes sparkled. ‘My favourite,’ he murmured. ‘White, then.’

Left alone outside the shop for a few moments, Meg began to feel less confident. What if Miss Finch made real trouble for Percy? What if her brother was so incensed that he threw Percy out of
his shop? What then?

‘Here we are.’ He was back beside her and her doubts faded. In the short time that she had known him, she had never seen him look so happy or relaxed.

Some time later as they sat opposite each other across the narrow kitchen table, Percy confirmed her thoughts. He raised his glass to her in a toast. ‘That was a lovely meal and I’ll
tell you something, Meg, I don’t know when I last felt as happy as this. I feel as if I’ve been let out of prison.’

Huskily she said, ‘I know just how you feel. That’s how I felt the day I left the workhouse. And I owe all that to you. I’m only sorry that it’s caused trouble between
you and your fiancée. You – you will make it up with her, won’t you? I mean her brother owns your shop premises. What if – what if he turns you out?’ At last, she was
voicing her greatest fear.

‘I don’t think he’ll do that. He knows it would be difficult to find another tenant. The building needs a lot spending on it and Theobald Finch doesn’t like spending
money.’

‘Haven’t you ever tried to – to buy it from him?’

‘My father – he started the business – tried to years ago, and I tried too, but the only way I was ever going to get it was to . . .’ His voice faded away.

‘What?’ Meg prompted. ‘Go on.’

Reluctantly, Percy admitted, ‘Theo promised to give me the title deeds to the shop on my marriage to Clara. It – it was to be our wedding present.’

Meg gasped. ‘And now you’ve lost that all because of me.’

‘No, no,’ Percy assured her. ‘You mustn’t think that. You’ve done me a favour. I think I always knew marriage between Clara Finch and me wasn’t right, else
why would I have kept putting off the wedding date every time she tried to suggest one? She would have had us married four years ago but I –’ he smiled sheepishly at Meg –
‘but I kept finding excuses.’

‘Did you?’ Meg said and smiled at him, her wonderful, breathtaking smile. It took poor Percy Rodwell’s breath away and left his senses reeling. ‘No,’ he said,
shaking his head slowly. There was a new-found certainty in his tone. ‘No, I won’t be trying to make it up with Miss Finch.’ He raised his glass. ‘I’m glad it’s
happened. Truly I am. So, I want to make a toast, Meg. To my new assistant, to the new ladies’ wear and – and to freedom. Our freedom.’

Smiling, Meg touched his glass with her own. ‘Here’s to us, Percy,’ she said softly.

‘He’s broken off his engagement to Miss Finch. The missus heard it in town.’

On the following Sunday afternoon, Jake brought the news to the workhouse, to Meg’s mother. Sarah gasped. ‘Why? Is it anything to do with Meg?’

Jake’s face clouded as he shrugged. ‘Who knows?’

‘What have you heard?’

‘Just that Miss Finch was so angry about Mr Rodwell employing Meg and then taking her to live with him that she threatened him. If he didn’t get rid of Meg, their engagement was
off.’

‘And?’

‘He insisted he wasn’t going to sack Meg and that she was going to continue living at his house. Meg’d asked him if she could live in the rooms above the shop, but Miss Finch
wouldn’t hear of that either.’ Jake glanced at Sarah and debated whether to tell her the whole story.

‘You know the last time she came here?’ he began tentatively. Sarah nodded, tears filling her eyes. ‘The night after she found out about me and – and Isaac?’ she
whispered. ‘That’s the last time I saw her.’

‘Yes. Well, she was coming to tell you that she’d had the idea of asking Mr Rodwell if you could both live above the shop. You and her. She said she wanted to look after you.’
As Sarah covered her face with her hands, Jake said swiftly, ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that.’

‘Yes, yes, you should. Oh, poor Meg. No wonder she’s angry with me. Do – do you think she will ever forgive me?’

‘Of course she will. Give her time. You’re her mam.’ He tried to make his voice sound hopeful and positive, but in his heart he wasn’t sure. Although he thought Meg was
wrong, a tiny part of him could understand how she must feel.

‘I don’t think so,’ Sarah murmured sadly. ‘First her dad and then me. We’ve both let her down. I don’t think she will ever forgive either of us.’

Jake said nothing.

‘Now, Percy, this is a fine how-de-do. Let’s see if we can sort it out, man to man, eh?’ Theobald Finch stood in the centre of the shop first thing on the
Monday morning a week after his sister had arrived home to tell him that Percy had broken off their engagement. Hating confrontation, Theobald had deliberately left the matter for a few days,
hoping that Percy would see sense and beg Clara’s forgiveness. But a week had passed and there had been no sign of Percy coming, cap in hand, to the Hall.

Meg, serving a lady at her own small counter, had glanced up when he entered. It was the moment she had been dreading. There was only one other person she feared seeing more than Theobald Finch
– Jake. But he hadn’t been near the shop, even though by this time she believed he must have heard the gossip. Ron’s wife came regularly to the bakery next door. There was no
doubt she would have carried home the news with great glee. And Meg could imagine Mrs Smallwood’s reaction. ‘Aye well, I allus said she’d come to a bad end, that one. Blood will
out.’

Oh yes, Jake would know by now, and if he knew, then everyone at the workhouse would soon hear of it too.

‘Would you care to step into the workroom, Theo. We shall be more private there.’

Theobald gave a loud guffaw. ‘I don’t reckon there’s anything I have to say that half the town don’t know already, Percy.’ He glanced towards Meg and her customer.
‘Morning, Mrs Cartwright. Fine morning for a juicy bit of gossip.’

The woman glared at him, two pink spots appearing suddenly in her cheeks. ‘Well, really!’ She gathered her belongings and stormed from the shop, leaving Meg calling after her.
‘But, madam . . .’

Mrs Cartwright paused at the door to turn and say, ‘I have never been treated so abominably in my life. I shall never set foot inside this shop again.’

The shop bell clanged huffily as she slammed the door behind her.

‘Oh, dear me,’ Theobald remarked, his tone heavy with sarcasm, ‘the lady seems somewhat offended. You’ll have to be more careful, Percy, else you’ll soon have no
customers left, my dear fellow.’

Percy sighed. ‘Please, Theo, come through—’

‘I’m quite comfortable here, thank you. Now, about this other little matter. Look here, Percy, I don’t want there to be trouble between us. Make it up with Clara, there’s
a good fellow. Now, what do you say?’