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Authors: Sylvia Burton

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He turned to Victoria, saying, ‘have someone make her a cup of sweet tea, and persuade her to lie down for a while.  I will arrange a visit from the undertaker, sometime tomorrow.  Will that be all right?’

Victoria
said she was sure it would be and watched the Doctor leave.

The funeral was held four days later, and all the food bought for the wedding was used to accommodate the mourners, some of whom had
travelled from as far away as Scotland.  It was a terrible ordeal for the family, to be mourning, instead of feasting at a wedding celebration.

Ellie went to the service, leaving Will in the care of Bet, who assured her, ‘I
’ll treat him just as if he was my own’, and Ellie left him, with a smile.

Richard wanted her to travel, to the Cemetery, in the coach with him but she insisted that she go along with the staff.  The kitchen staff
was most surprised to see her enter the kitchen, on that day, dressed in black, and greeted her with some hesitation.

Cook kissed her on the cheek, ‘we didn
’t expect you in here today, Ellie.  We took it, you would be going with the family’.

Well, Missus Blunt, I
’m not ‘family.  Not yet anyway, so I thought I would accompany my good friends’.  She herself, now hesitated, ‘that is, if you don’t mind?’

‘Bless you Ellie, course we don
’t mind’, she said, her smile, somehow making her seem younger,  ‘and, by the way, I would be pleased if you would get used to calling me ‘Rose’, seeing as you can’t call me Missus Blunt any more’.

Ellie laughed, ‘of course Rose, but even the Mistress calls you Missus Blunt’.

‘That’s different, Ellie, cause she is my employer and you are my friend’.

Then a thought hit her, on which she had not considered, before today.  ‘Ooh!  I
’ve just thought.  I should stop addressing you as Ellie, it’s not decent.  You’re shortly to be Missus Courtney, and I should remember that.  It’s all a bit difficult’.

As the words were spoken, her face lost its smile and she was, quite suddenly, lost for words.

‘Please ... Missus. I mean, Rose... you must always address me as Ellie, for I am now motherless, and look on you as such’.

‘Oh Ellie, if I had been lucky enough to have a daughter, I would not have asked for anything else for the rest of my life, if she had been as nice as you’.  And so, Ellie walked with her friends to the funeral.

 

When the church service was over, the mourners congregated around the grave.  It was quite distressing, seeing the grass in an unnatural state, having been disturbed with the digging.

It somehow lent to the depressing atmosphere.

Ellie
’s eyes were drawn to the gaping hole and she shuddered.  The memory of her poor Mother’s ‘passing’ came into her mind and she, morbidly, wondered if water had seeped into her mother’s coffin.

She quickly rejected her thoughts, and glanced at Richard.  He was standing beside his mother, giving her support.  Louise was weeping and in much distress.  James was standing by
Victoria’s chair, holding her hand, as she too cried tears of sadness.  Standing next to him was Lucy Musgrove, moved to tears and clinging hold of James’s arm.

She watched as Richard fought hard to control his emotions, his face a mask of sorrow.  At that moment, Ellie knew that her place was not here, with her friends, but with the man she loved.

She squeezed Kate’s arm, and then slowly walked to the opposite side of the grave, and stood beside Richard.  He was lost in his own grief, so was not immediately, aware of Ellie’s appearance.  Only when she slipped her cold hand into his, did he turn to her, and smile his thanks.

James watched as Ellie took Richard
’s hand, and longingly, wished she were standing beside him, as
his
wife-to-be.  He knew that he had lost his
one
chance to be happy, the day he allowed his father to ‘browbeat’ him into letting her go. 

The girl beside him, with whom he had been an intimate friend for such a long time, meant little to him, in the face of his love for Ellie.  He forced himself to take his eyes from her face and turned his attention to the grave, where the
‘pall bearers’ were lowering the coffin, into the hole.

James silently uttered, his first unkind words, as the coffin hit the bottom of the deep grave, with a muffled, thud.

‘What price ‘power’ now, Father?’

Those cruel thoughts were to set a pattern, which would lead to his descent, into the depths of despair.

 

Richard and Ellie had a quiet wedding.  Anything else would have been seen as
‘unseemly’, so soon after Edward’s death.  Louise had wanted the wedding postponed, but Richard would not hear of it.  He insisted that the service take place on the day they had previously planned.

The Reverend of the local church performed the marriage ceremony with only two witnesses, Victoria and Kate.  There was a small social gathering, held downstairs in the kitchen, which was attended by those who felt they could, or wished, to do so.

No gifts were given, by the couple’s request, out of respect for the ‘house of mourning’.  A Photographer was there, to commemorate the ceremony, with a portrait of the happy couple.  Only one picture was taken but several copies were to be made which could be given to family and friends.

It was a very quiet affair, but one, which pleased Richard and Ellie, as their only concern, was to belong to each other.  They were happy with their mutual love.

That day, Kate told them of her plans.  She was to start instruction, the following week, in a Convent at the other side of Leeds.

‘I will be admitted permanently, after a year of instruction as a novice, then take my vows when I am considered fit to do so’, she explained, with humility.

Ellie, so wonderfully in love, asked, ‘Kate, are you sure that this is what you really want?’

‘I
’ve never been more sure of anything, Ellie’, she said with a smile.

‘Then I wish you as much happiness in your choice, as I have, at this moment, my
dear friend’.

Kate whispered to Ellie, with a hint of the old merriment, ‘I expect our
‘fun days’ are over, now that you are Missus Courtney, so I may as well become a nun’.

‘Oh Kate.  Who will help me to save my candles now?’

They both laughed and Richard turned, from his conversation with William, to see his bride, her face a picture of love for her friend, and his love for her carried, like sparks across the room. 

Ellie looked away from Kate and into the eyes of Richard.  She smiled at him and it was as if they were the only two people in the whole world.

Chapter Twenty Six

 

James poured himself a drink from the Crystal decanter.  He crossed the darkened room and stood staring into the dying embers of the fire.  He was not conscious of any specific thoughts but of a numbness which filled his head, leaving him weary and at odds with the world around him.

‘Why don
’t you come back to bed James?’

He did not turn around, as he answered her, ‘I don
’t think so Lucy’.

‘It will be alright James, really’, she said, making her way towards him, her long silk nightdress
, enhancing her perfect body.

She took his hand and looked, longingly, into his eyes.  She loved him so much and would do anything to make him love her, in the same way.

‘Am I so hard to make love to James?  Does the sight of my body not please you?’

She placed her lips, lovingly, onto the back of his hand.  James put down his glass and turned to her, placing both hands on her lovely shoulders.

‘My Dear Lucy, how I wish I could give you the love that you deserve.  But you know it’s not possible, and you know why’.

She pulled away from him, her face flushed with anger. 

‘Of course I know.  Haven’t you told me a million times?  Can’t you see how much I love you?’

‘I know Lucy.  I
’m sorry’.

‘Oh, why do I keep doing this?  God help me, why do I throw myself at you like this?  Where is my self respect?’

She collapsed into a heap on the floor, her hands covering her face.

James knelt beside her and tried to comfort her, but in his heart he knew he could not help.  He rocked her to and fro, wishing with his whole being, that she had never come into his life.  He lifted her face to his and kissed her, softly, afraid to hurt her further.

‘If I had never met you Lucy, I would never have known such a sweet and loyal person, but I fear I must hurt you one last time.  I do not intend to make you unhappy for the rest of your life’.

‘Oh no James.  Please don
’t send me away.  We can go on as we are, it doesn’t matter that you don’t love me ... please ... James ...’

She clung to his arm, her beautiful eyes begging him to let her stay.  Her gown was twisted, exposing a small pink breast.  James cupped the soft breast in his hand and felt the warmth of it, and he thought,
if only
.

Lucy, aware of his touch, eased her gown from her shoulders, baring the whole of her upper body.

‘They’re yours James.  Only yours my love.  Please take them, to do with, what you will’.

‘I
’m sorry Lucy.  I want you to go’.

He got to his feet and poured himself another Brandy, his voice now angry, ‘I don
’t want you.  Do you understand?  I never wanted you.  I don’t love you’.

Lucy, almost beside herself with passion, also raised her voice. 

‘How you can still love her, I don’t know.  She is married to your brother, for goodness sake.  She loves
him
, not
you
.  Oh, you fool’.

‘Just go Lucy’.

Some ten minutes later, Lucy emerged from the bedroom, dressed in the ivory, beaded evening gown in which she had arrived.  She turned to him, now calm, and spoke in a soft tone.

‘You won
’t reconsider?’

‘No’.

‘Then I’ll say goodbye, James’.

She hesitated for a moment, praying for a late change of heart.  James remained silent, so with aching heart, she left the house.

James breathed a sigh of relief and went back to his ‘fire gazing’, and thought of Ellie.

He remembered, vividly, the first time he had seen her, when she had been on a visit to the country house, with the rest of the staff.  He had certainly never met a
‘scullery maid’, of such demeanour.  She had the ‘classic’ looks of a lady of quality, and would, even then, stand up for what she believed in.  She had captured his imagination with her natural beauty and true spirit.

He remembered the uproar she had caused, when she had gone to his sister, with the suspicion of a serious matter concerning the children
’s nurse.  The nurse had been dismissed immediately.

Eventually everyone had been grateful to Ellie but for a time his father had thought she was a trouble causer.  Right up to his recent death, he had insisted that she was a social climber and only wanted the family fortune.

Of course, James knew that his father couldn’t have been more wrong.  Ellie was the most honest and decent person, he had ever been privileged to know, and he loved her dearly.

Richard and Ellie were still residing at the house in
Thornton Avenue, until Father’s estate had been sorted out.  James could hardly bear to be in the same house, with their happiness.  He lay awake, imagining the two of them making love, until he thought he would go insane.

Richard was, of course, aware of his brother
’s fond feelings for Ellie, but considered them now, more of a friendly nature.  He was not conscious of the passion, hidden beneath his brother’s surface.

 

Richard was concerned that James had not yet announced his intentions, with regard to Lucy, who had been his constant companion, of late.

‘So when are we to expect you to settle down, James?  You are out and about a lot, these days, and no doubt you have had the choice of some delicious females.  Shall we assume that you prefer the 'stunning' Miss Musgrove?’ said Richard, as they shared a succulent roast.

Ellie interrupted her husband, with an admonishing look, ‘Richard, do eat your meal and stop embarrassing James’.

Then turning to her brother-in-law, said kindly, ‘you must take no notice of your insensitive brother; I believe he takes pleasure in teasing you.  I'm sure, when you have anything to tell us, you will do so.  Now please, let’s enjoy our food’.

Richard laughed, ‘well James, that's what you have to put up with when you take a wife.  Ellie tells me what to do, what to say and I obey her, like a lamb’.

‘If only that were true, my
Dear Richard’, said Ellie, but she had a look on her face which told James, what he already knew, that they were both, very much, in love.

As he ate his dinner, James took in Ellie's face, framed with the fine, fair hair and his pulse quickened.  She was five years younger than him, but had changed little in the last five years.

His nephew, Will, was a fine boy, just coming up to his tenth month.  He still thought of the night he was born.  James remembered him, pink faced and 'testing his lungs', lying in a drawer in the spotless, little house, in the poor district.  That was a million years away from the life she had now.

N
ow, standing here alone by the fireplace, James looked at the small-framed photograph of Richard and Ellie and whispered, ‘if only I had married you when I had the chance, how different my life would have been’.

James took hold of the frame and removed the brown photograph, quickly tearing it down the centre and throwing one half onto the coals.  He stared at Ellie's likeness.  Even the sepia colour of the photograph could not hide her loveliness.  He put the picture into the inside pocket of his cloak, which was draped over the chair where he had left it.

He drained his glass, of its last dregs, and turned in for the night.  He had work tomorrow and he didn't know how he was going to get through the day.

The next morning, James ate a frugal breakfast.  These days he found his interest in food, somewhat, lacking.  His mother, always concerned about his health, gave her son a look of disapproval.

‘You know James; you should adopt a healthier diet.  One piece of toast is simply not good enough; you really should change your eating habits’.

‘I'm just not hungry this morning Mother.  Please don't fuss’.

‘It's not just this morning.  You have become very lax in your ways, over the past few months.  You never used to be like this.  It there something wrong with you?  Is that it?  Or is it the mill?’

Why was his mother so dim?  Did it never enter her head that he was unhappy with his life, in general?  It was as if she refused to remember what had occurred in the recent past.

‘There's nothing wrong with me that a bit of 'peace and quiet' won't put right, so if you don't mind, Mother ..........’ He got up from the table and made for the door.

‘James... wait...’ but he was already gone.

Louise sighed.  She wondered when she would be able to stop worrying about her children.

Children?
she thought, and laughed to herself.
James was now twenty-six years old, Richard thirty and Victoria was thirty-three.  Hardly children
.  But, to Louise, they would always be her 'babies'.

She no longer had any worries, where Richard was concerned, for he had been proved a wise man, when he married Ellie.  She was a perfect wife and a sensible mother to young Will.

Ellie had done wonders for Victoria.  She had insisted on massaging her crippled legs and the doctor had, reluctantly, agreed that there was a degree of improvement.

When Ellie had left the house, 'in disgrace',
such a
misunderstanding, according to Louise, the doctor had recommended that a nurse came in, every day, to continue the work, which Ellie had begun.

After one year, the improvement was such, that
Victoria had been sent to London to see a top Surgeon.  There had been advancements in Orthopaedic surgery, and he thought there was something he could do to help her, considering the improved muscle tone and circulation.

Over the last nine months,
Victoria had undergone two operations, with much success, but so far, even with the aid of callipers, she was still unable to walk.  Her next operation was to be performed in September of this year.   Louise had her doubts, as to the wisdom, of another one, so soon after the last.

However,
Victoria was adamant, saying ‘I will keep on until I walk, or they chop the useless things off’.

Her thoughts returned to James.  The poor boy seemed to have no direction in his life.  She had, had such hopes for him, when he first met Lucy, but since all that business with Ellie, it was as if he had set out to live his life at full speed.  He cared little of what became of him.

She knew he was drinking, more than was good for him, but she dare not say too much as he was quick to turn on her.  James had changed so much, and to be honest, she didn't know what she could do, or say, to help him’.  Louise ate what remained of her breakfast, feeling tired and old. 

 

James arrived at the mill, still out of sorts.  His head was thumping.  Of course, the drink he had consumed last night didn't help.  He would try to cut down. He was drinking too much.

David Reagan, was there to meet him.  David had been appointed Manager shortly after the Master's death.  James was now Master and loathed the job.

He stood by the small grimy window in David's office, two storeys above the entrance, and watched as hoards of workers hurried through the large iron gates.

Poor Sods
, thought James,
how they muster the strength to come here, I'll never know
.

He caught sight of a young girl, who couldn't have been more that ten years old, scurrying along, with clogs that were obviously too big for her.

What motivates her to work in this hellhole?
he wondered.

He knew the answer of course.  Wages.  They were paid poorly, but regularly.  The hours were long, the work dirty and tedious.  James had refused to employ children, under the age of ten, when he first took over, and although, this made his conscience less of a burden, the parents condemned him for it.

‘They need the money, James’, David had said, when the rule was first put into action.

‘David, Surely you understand why I have taken such a stand?’

‘Yes, of course I do, but when families are hungry and their children are prevented from working, naturally, there is condemnation’.

‘Well they will come to
realise, in future years that I am thinking only of the children's welfare’.

‘But, the fact is, they hate you for it’.

‘Then so be it!  If I can do nothing to appease them, they will have to hate me, but the rule stands’.

And the rule was adhered to, without exception, and the workers considered the new Master, to be a hard man.

Now, he watched, as the ‘gate man’ hurried along, the last stragglers, before locking the gates against any 'late comers'.  If they were late, they lost a day's pay, so usually there was a full work force.

David handed James a pot of dark brown tea, and surveyed his emplo
yer

‘What are you doing to yourself, James?  You look terrible’.

‘Just a drink too many, that's all’.

‘I know it's none of my business, but you're going to kill yourself with your drinking, if you don't cut down’.

‘You're right David.  It's none of your business.  I'll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself’.  James spoke sharply, his back, still towards the Manager.

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