For The Sake of Her Family (3 page)

‘What are you doing, man? I could have killed you, rolling about in the road in this bad light!’ Dismounting, Gerald Frankland leaned over the dishevelled pile of rags, only to
recoil immediately. ‘Good God, you stink! How much have you had to drink? You’re a disgrace, man!’

Raising himself up and squatting on his heels, cap in hand, Bob dared not look Lord Frankland in the eye. Of all the people to come down the lane, why did it have to be him! He felt a hand
pulling him to his feet. Dizzy with drink and stomach churning, he tried to draw himself to his full height. ‘Beg pardon, sir. Didn’t mean to be in the way,’ Bob mumbled, doing
his best not to slur his words.

‘For goodness’ sake, Bentham, pull yourself together. I can’t have my tenants carrying on like this.’ Gerald Frankland studied the swaying figure with a look of disgust.
He had heard that Bentham had taken the death of his wife badly, but he hadn’t realized things had come to this. ‘Well, I suppose I can’t leave you here in that state. God knows
how you’d get home. Climb in the gig and let’s get you back where you belong.’

Shoving the malodorous body into the trap, Frankland turned towards Dale End Farm, whipping the horse into a trot. He was going to have stern words with Bentham’s son once he got his
drunken father home. Young Will was a fine lad – couldn’t do without him. He’d shown an uncanny knack with horses and was a bloody good shot with that two-bore rifle of his. After
last autumn’s pheasant shoot, a number of his friends who’d travelled up from London for the event had told him how impressed they were with the lanky lad who’d made such a good
job of running the show. Damn shame about the father, though. If this sort of behaviour continued, he’d have to strip them of the tenancy. Bloody locals, you gave them a roof over their heads
and this was how they repaid you!

Alice stood in the doorway, peering down the lane for any sign of her father. She was both anxious and yet at the same time dreading his return. These days there was no way of
knowing what state he would be in, or what his mood would be. It could be anything from sentimental and loving, cheerfully serenading her with music-hall songs, or argumentative and lashing out at
Will with his fists. What her poor mother would have made of it, she didn’t know. As dusk descended on the farmyard and the missel thrush trilled its last song of the evening, Alice wished
she could be like that little bird: free to sing and to spread her wings and fly away as far as possible.

‘Come in, our lass. It might be spring, but it soon gets chilly. He’ll be home in his own time.’ Will had started lighting the oil lamps for evening. The flame flickered as he
beckoned for her to come away from the door. ‘The devil looks after his own, you know – and the way Father’s been acting lately, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s
possessed.’

‘Don’t say stuff like that, our Will, it’ll bring us bad luck.’ Alice closed the door behind her. ‘I can’t help feeling he’s been getting worse
lately.’

‘I wish I knew where he’s been getting his brass from. Can’t see old Woodhead letting him sup for nothing. Happen he’s doing odd jobs for his beer money. Doesn’t
seem likely, though – there’s plenty jobs around here wanting doing, and he can’t be bothered to lift a finger.’

Alice kept silent. Much as she wanted to tell Will about Mother’s treasured possessions disappearing, she didn’t want to cause trouble between father and son, especially as her
father might return in a fighting mood.

They both stood frozen in place for a moment at a sound from outside: hoofbeats, coming into the yard. Racing to open the door, they were aghast to find Gerald Frankland struggling to get their
father down from his trap.

‘Don’t just stand there – help me with him, lad!’ Lord Frankland bellowed at Will. ‘I can’t stand smelling him for another minute. Get him washed and tidied
up – the man’s a disgrace.’

Will rushed quickly to the aid of his employer, propping his father up and carrying him into the warm kitchen. His lordship followed, removing his gloves and hat before seating himself next to
the fire. Alice busied herself putting the kettle on the range to boil, not knowing what to say and do in the presence of the landlord. Will seemed equally at a loss; having deposited his father in
a kitchen chair, he stood over him looking as if he wished the ground would swallow him up.

Scowling, Frankland leaned back in the Windsor chair and crossed his long legs. With his dark hair and sharp cheekbones, he looked every inch the refined country gent. ‘You’re lucky
he’s alive, the drunken fool. I nearly ran him over, lying there in the middle of the road. How long has he been like this? If he wants to stop in one of my farms, he’s going to have to
straighten himself up.’

Will, tongue-tied, offered no reply. Seemingly unperturbed by this, Lord Frankland surveyed the kitchen; it was tidy and spotless, but a little sparse. His gaze came to rest on the stockpot, its
bubbling contents filling the room with a herby aroma. ‘I suppose what-ever’s cooking in there has been poached from me.’

Inwardly, this amused him. He’d known for a while that the rabbit population was being held in place by Will, but had not said anything; after all, in feeding his family Will was reducing
the estate’s vermin population.

‘Now see here,’ Frankland continued, ‘either your father straightens himself up or I’ll have to consider renting this farm to another tenant. Take this as a
warning.’ He rose from his seat and gathered up his gloves and hat as if to leave, but on reaching the door he turned and faced Alice. ‘How old are you, girl? And what’s your
name?’

Alice blushed. ‘I’m Alice, sir. I’ll be seventeen in June.’ She could feel her pulse and heart pounding as she dared to look at the dark-haired lord.

‘So, old enough to come and work at the manor. My sister wants someone to attend to her needs. You look presentable enough, and I think you might be suitable. Come and see Mrs Dowbiggin
next week. I’ll arrange for her to show you what will be expected of you.’

‘But I don’t want a job,’ Alice protested. ‘I’ve enough to do here.’

‘She’ll be with you, sir – I’ll bring her myself.’ Will stepped forward, desperate to rectify his sister’s mistake. ‘Our Alice doesn’t think what
she says sometimes, sir. We are most grateful, thank you; that’ll be a grand help to us. Say thank you, our Alice.’

Alice glared at her forelock-tugging brother. She didn’t want to work at the manor and there was no way that she was going to kowtow to the likes of the Franklands. Nevertheless she
curtsied, knowing that was expected of her, and then thanked him in a cool tone of voice.

‘A girl with spirit, eh! That’s what I like. Right, I’ll see you both next week.’ He waved a glove at the snoring body of Bob. ‘And get him sober. I bid you
goodnight.’

Nothing was said until the sound of the horse and trap faded down the lane. Then Will turned on his sister: ‘How many times have I told you, our Ali – always be right with them at
the manor, especially himself. We need this farm.’ Will kicked his father’s foot as he snored, oblivious in his drunken sleep. ‘I was right: the old fool fetched the devil into
this house tonight. I never wanted you to work at the manor, but we’ve no option now. You’ll have to watch yourself, lass, and as for Father, he can just bloody well straighten himself
up.’

‘Don’t be hard on him, Will – he’s missing Mother. And I’ll be fine; I can look after myself. But you want to decide which tune you’re dancing to: either Lord
Frankland’s the devil or he’s a saint in our hour of need.’

Will fell silent. He hated Gerald Frankland. He hated the way he looked down his nose at those who worked for him. The way he leered at the young women from the village – and the fact
that, for all his breeding, he was no gentleman.

‘Just you remember this, Ali: no matter what happens, keep your thoughts to yourself and never let them know you’re scared,’ Will retorted.

‘What do you mean, our Will? I don’t understand.’

‘You’ll find out soon enough. I’ve heard some tales about him – and his sister. Take it as a warning.’

Alice had never seen this side of Will, and it worried her. Why did he hate Lord Frankland so much? Could things really be that bad at the manor?

Alice stood gazing up at the austere grey facade. Whernside Manor was a huge square Georgian building with ramparts running around the bottom of the roof, giving it the
appearance of a Gothic castle. The notorious Sill family had built it, using their ill-gotten gains from slave trading in Jamaica. Local legend had it that the house was haunted by a young slave
boy who had been beaten to death by the only son of the Sill family. With his dying breath he had cursed his master and the master’s family, proclaiming that none of them would bear offspring
and they would all die in poverty. Sure enough, his curse came true: one by one the Sill men died in suspicious circumstances and both daughters died old maids with not a penny to their names.

It was also rumoured that an underground passage ran between the manor and one of the houses that the Sill family used to own. It had been used for secretive transfer of their serving slaves.
Alice shuddered at the thought. Dark days, indeed; she was not proud of the slaving history that tainted her beloved Dales.

The gravel crunched under her feet as she nervously made her way to the front door of the manor. She hesitated before plucking up the courage to climb the spotless granite steps and rap the
polished brass door knocker. Adjusting her hat and smoothing her skirts, her heart beating wildly, Alice waited for someone to answer.

‘Yes, what do you want? We don’t encourage beggars here!’ The tall, sombre-faced butler peered down at her, his hand resting on the huge oak door’s handle as if preparing
to close it in her face.

Alice had never been so insulted. ‘I’m not a beggar,’ she retorted. She’d have liked to tell him exactly what she thought of his arrogant tone, but instead she bit her
tongue, paused for a moment to consider how to phrase her response, and then announced: ‘I’m here to see Miss Frankland. My name’s Alice Bentham, and I’m to help her with
her needs.’

‘Well, Alice Bentham, your first lesson at the manor is that servants always use the back door. You are never to climb these steps and knock on this door again. Typical farm girl –
no manners,’ he sneered. ‘Now, go around the back and ask for Mrs Dowbiggin. She’ll take you to Miss Frankland, who I’m sure awaits you.’ And with that he closed the
door, leaving Alice feeling worthless on the steps.

She stood for a minute in shock, humiliated and at the same time furious with the pompous butler. How dare he take her for a beggar! And how dare he say she had no manners. It was him who had no
manners, snooty old sod. She didn’t want this bloody job anyway.

Defiantly she turned on her heel, marched back down the steps and set off up the drive. Blow it, she wasn’t going to work for this hoity-toity lot; she was a Bentham and they were nothing
but off-comed-uns. No doubt Will would have something to say when she got home, but she didn’t care.

‘Leaving us so early, Miss Bentham?’ a voice shouted after her. Alice stopped in her tracks and slowly turned round to see Lord Frankland walking round the side of the manor, riding
crop in hand. ‘Are we not to your liking, Alice? Have you fallen out with my dear sister Nancy so soon? Surely she’s not that wearing?’

Alice could detect a hint of mockery in his voice and noticed a slight smile on his face. She was doing her best not to stare, but his elegant dress and good looks had her enthralled.

‘No, sir, not at all. Indeed, I did not get to see your sister, sir – as a matter of fact I’ve not even been invited across the threshold.’ She couldn’t stop
herself; she had always been brought up to tell it as it was, so why should she stop now?

‘I bet it was Faulks, my butler. Better than any guard dog, but a bit too much bite sometimes. Come, Alice, let me invite you into my home.’

He waited for her to retrace her steps to the main entrance and opened the front door for her. Hesitantly, Alice stepped into the great hall with her new employer behind her. At his bidding, she
followed his example and took off her hat and coat, which he then thrust into the arms of Faulks, who had appeared like lightning at the sound of his master’s voice.

‘Faulks, this is Miss Alice Bentham. She is to assist my sister – whatever she needs, you will see that she gets it.’

‘Yes, sir.’ The butler bowed, giving Alice a questioning sideways glance before scurrying away with the clothing.

‘Well, that’s told him,’ said Lord Frankland, casually leading the way across the marble-tiled hallway. ‘Come, Alice, let me introduce you to my sister. I’m sure
she’ll find you a tonic – it will be good for her to have someone her own age to talk to: she’s always complaining about the staff all being too old. That’s why I’ve
taken you on, along with the fact that you seem to have a few more skills than some of the local girls.’

Transfixed by the grandeur of the hallway, Alice was still standing just inside the front door, taking it all in. How her mother would have loved the huge chandelier, the delicate ornaments, the
smell of fresh polish and the huge sweeping staircase. The beauty of it all took her breath away; it was like a dream.

Lord Frankland, who had started up the stairs only to realize that Alice wasn’t at his side, gestured impatiently for her to follow. ‘Come, Alice, I haven’t all day, and Nancy
is waiting. If there’s one thing she doesn’t possess, it’s patience, as I am sure you will shortly find out.’

With bygone generations of the Frankland family gazing down at her from the portraits lining the walls, the awestruck young girl gathered her skirts and hurriedly followed him up the luxuriously
carpeted stairs.

The room was dark, the curtains still drawn, preventing the sharp spring light from entering.

‘Nancy, I bring you a companion, someone to entertain you, to help you with your toilet and hopefully temper your moods, dear sister. This is Alice Bentham; her father is a tenant of mine
and her brother Will is one of my best men.’ He strode across to the window and tugged the curtains open, flooding the room with light. ‘How can you live in such darkness, girl?
It’s a beautiful day – come on, get out of bed and say hello to your latest companion and help.’