The Lost And Found Girl (12 page)

‘Her mother called her Daisy.’

‘That’s pretty. Was her ma pretty? She won’t be much use to me if she grows up to catch the fellas’ eyes and gets wed.’

‘You’ll just have to make sure she knows where her duty lies. I’m sure Mr Higgins can keep her in line.’

‘Oh aye. He’s not above taking his belt to me if he thinks I’ve been straying from my duty. Her mother wasn’t a – a – you know?’

‘You have my word that she’s from good stock. This one has a real aristocrat’s blood in her veins.’

Mrs Higgins’s eyebrows shot up. ‘She’s not from round here is she?’

‘No, of course not; she’s from miles away, but you know I can’t say where. You’ll keep her then?’

‘As long as she grows up a grafter – and Mr Higgins will see that she does – she’ll do me.’

Milo stood up, satisfied that his work here was finished. ‘I shall say a special prayer for you in church.’

Early in the New Year, Abel lifted a heavy brass knocker and let it fall twice. Within minutes a young girl in a brown dress, white apron and cap opened the door.

‘Abel Shipton.’

The maid stepped back. ‘Come in, sir. Mr Stacey is expecting you.’

As he followed her to a back room, he glanced around. Mr Stacey had done well for himself as a drover. He stood up as Abel entered.

‘Sit yourself down, Abel. Will you drink a dish of tea with me?’

‘Thank you, I will.’

The maid left the room and the two men sank into comfortable chairs before a good fire.

‘I heard there was trouble up at High Fell.’

‘I moved out before Christmas. I was ready to leave anyway. There was nothing for me up there and too many years of isolation are not good for any man.’

‘So you’ve decided to look for a wife and apply for your drovers’ licence at last? It’s high time you did, if I may say so, Abel Shipton.’

Abel looked around at the polished furniture and comfortable seating. ‘It’s certainly a good living. But I wouldn’t set up against you. Besides I’d need to afford the wife and home first for my licence. I was thinking there might be more of a future as an agent for the stock.’

‘Not in Settle. Most of my dealings are direct with the farmers and we have the market for selling. Skipton might offer you better options. It’s more of a centre for commerce than around here.’

‘I was thinking of establishing myself in one of the South Riding towns. They’re growing so fast the farmers and butchers can barely keep pace.’

‘That’s true. I hear that mutton prices are shooting up.’

‘I’m interested in cattle and pigs as well as sheep, especially these new breeds that have more leg and loin. They fetch good money on the hoof.’

‘Yes, I’ve been reading about them. It’ll take you a year or two to get established though.’

‘I’ve got a fair few head to sell to tide me over.’

‘It’s a good idea but it’s a long trail from here to the South Riding.’

Abel didn’t waste any more time. ‘I have a proposition for you. I want you to drive my flock to the industrial towns around the Don navigation. I’ll come with you on the trail to keep down your costs. My plan is to sell the whole lot,
fat stock, breeding ewes, my rams and all and use the profits to set up a livestock broker’s office.’

The maid came in with the tea and Mr Stacey got up to fetch his decanter. ‘You’ll have a drop of brandy in it for this cold weather?’

‘I don’t mind if I do.’

‘Try one of these savoury biscuits with it. My good lady has them sent over from Leeds.’

Abel helped himself and waited for Mr Stacey’s response.

‘That’s a long haul. I’d have to turn down shorter trails, so it would be a dear do.’

‘You’ll have me and Sal to help speed things up,’ Abel volunteered. He was beginning to feel anxious. He had to get himself and his flock to where he could make the most money.

‘And you want me to quote you a lower price?’

‘I’ve put a fair bit of work your way for the last few years, Mr Stacey.’

‘Aye I know, and not just from your own flocks neither.’

‘As I say, I think I can make a good living as a decent broker.’

‘I agree with you. You’re an honest man and folk who know you trust you so I’ll cut a deal with you. I’ll do it for a percentage.’

‘You want a percentage of my livestock profits?’

‘Yes but I don’t want cash. I want a share of your brokerage business.’

‘You mean you want a partnership?’

‘More like an investor. That way you can put all you make into the new venture and it’ll be on a sound footing from the off.’

Abel saw the sense of this. He wouldn’t be beholden to any bank either if he had a partner. But he was wary. ‘That’s
very generous, sir. You risk losing your investment if I am not successful.’

‘There is a condition. Once you’re set up, I’d like you to take on my youngest boy. He’s got an eye for livestock and that’s all he interested in.’

‘He’s his father’s son, is that one,’ Abel commented.

‘Aye. Do we have a deal?’

‘Very well,’ Abel agreed. He held out his hand and said, ‘We have a new partnership for the New Year.’

They shook hands on it and Mr Stacey asked, ‘Where are you keeping your flock now?’

Abel told him where he had leased another field. ‘I have lodgings in the farmhouse.’

Mr Stacey seemed satisfied. ‘You can have my youngest to help at lambing time for nowt.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘You’ll be doing me a favour. He’s restless with his book learning.’

Abel finished his brandy-laced tea and stood up. ‘I’ll get back to my flock then.’

‘There’s just one more thing. You didn’t say why you left High Fell and I’ve heard rumours about you and Edgar Collins’s young wife. Was the bastard child yours?’

It hurt. Abel tried to hide it and his brow furrowed only slightly. It wasn’t the gossip. He was five and twenty and tough enough to ignore the scandalmongers. It was – it was that he truly wished Beth’s daughter had been his. He answered, ‘You know me better than to believe that.’

‘Aye, I do. That’s all I wanted to hear. I’ll put my good lady straight and we’ll say no more about it.’

‘Thank you, sir. I’ll get partnership papers drawn up right away.’

As he went outside, Abel thought that it was just as well he was moving away from the Dales for he must put Beth Collins right out of his mind. But he grieved for her in the knowledge that she had lost any hope of a happy marriage through prejudice and malice. He wondered what would happen to her daughter and almost wished he had followed his desires during those nights on the fell. She had felt the passion too, he was sure. He would have had a claim on the child. At least Beth was accepted as mother to Edgar’s heir and that was a kind of compensation for her. She would need something to help her through a future as Edgar Collins’s wife.

After the Spring lambing Abel considered riding up to High Fell to find out how Beth was. He was a stockman. He had good reason to be out on the fell but he knew how contrived it would look if he was seen by any of the local folk. He guessed as soon as her son was older and Beth’s scandal was overtaken by someone else’s, she would come down to Settle in the trap for market day. But by then he would be long gone to his new life in the South Riding.

Even if Beth removed to Redfern Abbey when Edgar inherited, their paths were not likely to cross. Beth’s future was as Lady Redfern, however much she was disgraced now, and his – his? He did not know what the future held for him, only that he regretted not being able to share it with the woman he had grown to love.

As he thought of her he felt a stirring in his loins and it was not the first time this had occurred when she was in his mind. No woman had affected him like this before. Good God, the fact that he was thinking of her in this way shocked him. She was another man’s wife, a lady destined for greater things than being a simple country wife. He must put Beth
Collins out of his head and ensure he kept a great distance between them.

Perhaps Mr Stacey was right. It was time he took a wife. He had seen what he wanted in Beth Collins, a pretty woman to be sure, but straightforward, practical, one who was strong in spirit, a wife who would be his friend as well as his lover. But first he must be well set up and solvent, for children would follow. A goodly number of them, he hoped.

‘This is a respectable house, sir. I do not tolerate lewd or drunken behaviour. Payment is due on Saturday night for the following week. Your washing is extra but my charges include mending and pressing. My late husband was a clerk to the law court and you will find that my standards are high.’

Mrs Carter, Abel’s prospective landlady, sat primly on a low chair in her front parlour. Her back was ramrod straight, her gown was fashioned from plain fabric but was prettily adorned with ribbon. She wore a lace cap over her fair hair.

‘You are a widow, ma’am?’

‘These three years, sir.’ She looked sad for a moment then her features returned to seriousness. ‘I have a brother living but a few doors away. He works for the town constable.’

‘I see.’ Abel glanced around the neat, well-furnished chamber with polished wooden floorboards and heavy drapes at the window. It was a house similar to Mr Stacey’s home in Settle and one that Abel aspired to for himself and – and – he put a stop to his wandering thoughts. It was too early to think about a future family. ‘Are your children at their labours?’ he asked.

‘My children are full grown and wed, sir. You will find my house is quiet and very suited to a professional gentleman.’

She must be older than she looks, he thought. But clearly a woman who had taken care of herself and had never had to milk a goat on a frosty morning. He guessed she had a housemaid to light her kitchen range at first light.

‘May I enquire the nature of your profession, sir?’ she prompted.

‘Livestock, ma’am,’ he replied. ‘I am a livestock dealer from the Dales and looking for premises near the market place.’

‘Oh, you are in trade.’ She looked disappointed.

‘It is a very necessary trade if I may say so, ma’am. We all have to eat. Perhaps I should explain that my vocation is more that of a broker or agent. I shall need offices not sheep pens.’

This information seemed to impress her. ‘You are from the Dales, you say?’

‘Indeed I am. Your home is very comfortable, ma’am. I should like to take the large chamber at the front.’

Her eyes lit up briefly. They were a fine clear blue and now that he looked more closely, he noticed that some of the fair hair curling from under her lace cap was more white than yellow. Nonetheless, she rose to her feet in one smooth movement and went to open a small bureau where she completed the formalities. ‘Very well, sir. When will your luggage arrive?’

Abel had left his travelling bag outside the front door, but he believed in honesty and responded with all the charm he could muster. ‘I have it with me, ma’am, but I should be most obliged if you would direct me to the best gentleman’s outfitters in town.’

It worked and she summoned her maid to bring in his
few possessions and take them upstairs. His lodgings were near enough to town to avoid the expense of a horse. He had gold in his pocket from his stock dealings but he was a newcomer to this town and he needed central premises and new clothes to impress existing traders. He had had a good start as Mr Stacey had given him letters of introduction to established businesses. His new life was taking shape and he walked towards the market place with a spring in his step.

Abel was successful in his new life. He quickly found premises near the beast market of this thriving industrial town. Mr Stacey was an enthusiastic partner and had plans for their office in Skipton as soon as Abel had installed a clerk to run things in the South Riding. They corresponded regularly, but for the present Abel had no reason to return to the Dales and he did not. Mrs Stacey urged her comfortably off husband to take her to the cities of Leeds and Sheffield where the shops and stores occupied her and her daughters and gave the gentlemen time for their business meetings.

But Abel did not forget the ill will that Edgar Collins had wished on him at High Fell Farm and with his accumulating wealth purchased the mortgages Mrs Collins had taken out with the Dales bank. The bank wished to offload them as the return of the capital borrowed was long overdue and her son was borrowing more on the strength of his future inheritance to pay the interest.

At first it was revenge on the Collinses but later when Abel discovered quite by chance from Mrs Stacey that Beth had remained at High Fell and not removed to Redfern Abbey, he did it for her. Of course he could never admit that to anyone, and there were times when he even denied it to himself. She was a married woman and had to be part
of his past whether he wished it or not. The widow who was his landlady, he reflected, might be part of his future for she possessed many good qualities of the kind that would serve him well as a wife.

He realised that he was starved of female attention. His daytime dealings were with men, his club dinners were men only and he kept long office hours to foster trade connections. He was not established as a man of means, nor was he well-versed in social conversation. Invitations to meet the wives and daughters of his business colleagues were not forthcoming.

He lacked social intercourse. He lacked the other kind of intercourse as well. He was three and thirty and he felt the frustrations of this enforced celibacy. He was aware that this state of affairs was not good for him, though he had not, so far, been tempted by the whorehouse despite the encouragement of some of his more unsavoury associates. Marriage, he reflected, was the only solution for him.

Abel considered his landlady, who went out of her way to please him and he was aware of her growing affection for him. She was older than he and wise, a quality that attracted him. But he did not love her and wondered if he ever could. He knew the answer for he could never love another woman with the desperate longing that he loved Beth. His face crumpled at her memory and he covered his eyes with his hands.