Virginia Henley (4 page)

In her scarlet skirt and shawl, Kitty stood out as the Gypsy she was. Her grandfather saw the look of dismay upon her face and asked kindly, “What’s the matter, my little wench?”

“Everything is so dirty and so—so drab.”

“Never mind, lass. Where there’s muck there’s money.”

“Oh, Grandada, you have a saying for everything. But where are the big houses and the foine carriages?”

“Ah, now, you’ll be meaning London. This is Lancashire, where all the manufacturing goes on. I expect this is where all the money is made and the people go to London to spend it.”

Terry squeezed Kitty’s hand. “Never mind, we won’t be staying in dirty little streets like these. We’ll be living at the squire’s and he’s bound to have a grand place.”

Kitty said, “I feel so sorry for everybody. How will they get used to factory work?” Swaddy patted her hand and said, “Ye get used to hanging if ye hang long enough.”

It was late that night before everyone was settled with the Irish families who lived on “Spake Hazy.” Swaddy and his two grandchildren were left at his niece’s house. Ada Blakely, a little woman aged beyond her years, made them welcome with hot tea and potato pie. Her husband, Jack, was not in evidence, and she explained that he always spent his evenings at the Dog … Kennel, a pub at the top of the street. She had five children, ranging from a girl of twelve to a new baby. All were in bed save the oldest girl, Doris, who couldn’t take her eyes off the beautiful brother and sister who had been billeted on them.

“These little houses only have two up and two down. I don’t know wherever you are going to sleep,” Ada said, wringing her hands helplessly.

Kitty spoke up, “Terry and I can sleep down here, it will only be for tonight. Tomorrow, Squire O’Reilly is sending his carriage for us. We are to work at his house. Grandada is too old to go into the mill, but he will be a great help to you, I know. He’s very good with children; he brought Terrance and me up from little babies.”

“Maybe I could let you look after the little ’uns and I could get set on at the mill,” Ada said hopefully to the old man.

After everyone had gone to bed, Terry lay down on the horsehair sofa, and Kitty sat curled before the fire reading her book, the only possession she had brought with her except for the family tarot cards. She read:

Kitty put the book down and slipped into blessed sleep.

The carriage arrived early and Kitty was vastly relieved that the squire had kept his word. After a tearful good-bye the carriage took them away from the dark little streets and out toward the country. In the daylight Kitty could see that the town sat in a bowl and if you lifted your eyes to the horizon, it was surrounded by green moors.

“Oh, it’s a town in a bowl, Terrance. That’s why it’s called ‘Bolton’!”

The O’Reillys lived at Hey House. The carriage turned up a long drive bordered by huge rhododendron bushes, which were a mass of red bloom. Terry was let off at the stables and Kitty was led to the servants’ entrance. The housekeeper looked her up and down and gave a loud sniff. “Irish Gypsy! I don’t know whatever the master is thinking of.”

Kitty thought, I’ll have you eatin’ out of my hand before this day is out, missus. Then she curtsied to the housekeeper and said prettily, “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. I can see I shall be happy here, you have created such a warm, welcoming atmosphere. No wonder the squire always speaks of you in such glowing terms when he comes to Ireland.”

Mrs. Thomson showed a flicker of interest and Kitty pressed her advantage. “A treasure, that’s what he’s after calling you behind your back.”

“Come and sit by the fire, child; have you no shoes?”

“No, ma’am, but himself told me to put myself entirely into your capable hands and you would do me proud.”

“Did he indeed?” she simpered. “Here, let’s have a cup of tea.”

“Oh, thank you, ma’am. I can see by your face how kind you are. I can read your tea leaves for you when we are finished.”

“Oh, how lovely, but don’t tell me if it’s anything bad!” “Oh, nothing bad is in store for you, ma’am, I can feel it in me bones.”

The housekeeper wore no wedding ring, so Kitty gazed at the tea leaves at the bottom of her cup and said, “I can see a letter ‘T’ here.”

“Why, that’s my name, Mrs. Thomson. How clever you are.”

“I also see a man here who thinks of you constantly. He is waiting for an encouraging word from you.”

Mrs. Thomson’s mind went rapidly over the servants and the deliverymen.

“He is a man who is held in great esteem by everyone. He holds some position of authority such as doctor, or perhaps a man of the cloth.” She swiftly glanced at Mrs. Thomson and caught her with a blush upon her cheeks. Ah, not far off the mark, thought Kitty shrewdly.

“We can’t sit here all day gossiping. Here is a clean uniform for you, it’s a little large, but what will hold more, will hold less. Now, you must keep all that hair covered up. Here’s a mobcap for you. Now I must see what I can do about shoes and stockings, and then I’ll find you something to keep you busy. I must admit I wasn’t looking forward to training a new maid, but I think you’ll do very nicely.”

*   *   *

At lunchtime Jonathan sat down with his two daughters.

“Father, you look tired out,” exclaimed Julia.

“No bloody wonder. I’ve crossed the Irish Sea twice this week. Do you realize how much it’s cost me to transport that lot to Lancashire?” he asked.

“Father, it’s simply not done to discuss money all the time, especially to ladies, and especially at table,” she said repressively.

Barbara watched with horror as her father’s face turned purple, and before he could say anything she begged, “Oh, please don’t fight!”

“There now, you’ve upset your sister,” thundered O’Reilly. “Why can’t you be a gentle girl like Barbara?”

Julia roiled her eyes to the ceiling in exasperation.

“Where’s Patrick?” he demanded.

“He’s over at the Falcon today; he left a message not to go running down there this afternoon. You’d do better to have a rest instead.”

“Why is it everybody knows what’s best for me?” he thundered. “Barbara, sit up straight! Stop playing with your food! Julia, why is it you and Patrick are always giving orders and demanding your own way?”

“Because if we didn’t, you’d bully us the way you bully Barbara. I hope you haven’t forgotten the Leavers are coming for dinner tonight.”

“That’s good. Maybe you’ll watch that sharp tongue of yours!” he shouted.

“You’ll dominate the conversation and I won’t be able to get a word in edgewise,” she said and laughed.

He looked at Barbara. “It wouldn’t hurt you to try to take part in the conversation at dinner tonight, instead of sitting there like you’re posing for Lipton’s pickle jars.” He looked at Julia. “What do you mean, I bully her?” he demanded aggressively.

“Oh, why don’t you go for a drive this afternoon? It’s such a lovely day, it will soothe your nerves. But stay away from the mills.”

Jonathan O’Reilly got dressed up and walked over to the stables. He ordered the carriage. He directed his driver to take him through town, and he sat back enjoying the fine afternoon. He felt good and his spirits rose as the carriage made its way through the center of town. He called to his driver to stop outside Ward’s Florists, where he descended and bought an impressive bouquet of roses, carnations and snapdragons, then gave the driver an address he called up out of the past. He ascended the flight of stairs after confidently dismissing the carriage, with orders to return in two hours, and knocked on the door. “Hello, Dolly. Remember me?” he said and smiled.

“Why, Mr. O’Reilly,” she said and smiled hesitantly. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“It must be nearly two years, eh, Dolly? These are for you, my dear.”

“Won’t you come in?” she asked a little apprehensively. She wondered if he had found out about her and Patrick and had come to make trouble. She smelled the flowers and opened the little card that came with them. Inside were fifteen pounds and it was suddenly very clear what he had come for. She had most of her bills paid for her and received many presents, but it wasn’t too often that she received cold cash, and the temptation was too great to refuse. She smiled provocatively at him and said, “Come and make yourself comfortable, Johnny.”

“It’s rather warm today,” he said as he divested himself of his coat and sat down.

“Would you care for a cold drink?”

“Some brandy would suit me better, lass,” he said and winked.

“Help yourself then, Johnny. I’ll just change into something a little cooler,” she said suggestively.

Before he had finished his drink, she came back in a loose wrapper and as she sat down beside him on the sofa, the wrapper fell apart to reveal her long legs. He reached for her and gave her a deep kiss, then reached up and parted the top of her wrapper. “My, you have a fine pair of breasts, Dolly. They always did excite me.”

She laughed throatily and removed his hands, which were squeezing her painfully.

He licked his lips and his breathing quickened considerably.

“I think we’d be more comfortable in the bedroom,” she whispered. She took his hand and he trotted after her eagerly. He took off his waistcoat and she knelt in front of him and unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off. She repressed a smile at the sight of his undervest on such a warm day, and lifted it over his head. She bent to remove his boots and her wrapper again parted to reveal her breasts. Jonathan quickly stripped the wrapper from her completely and put his mouth to her nipples. As she divested him of his pants, she noted that he was indeed ready for business; however, she knew that older men often lost their erections, so she didn’t want to delay the action with too many preliminaries. She positioned herself under him and he began thrusting vigorously. As he did so, his face became an alarming shade of crimson with overtones of purple, and his breathing became labored.

“Johnny, are you all right? Here, why don’t you lie back and let me on top?”

Patrick had finished his business at the mill. Remembering that the Leavers were coming for dinner, he decided to drop in on Dolly. He slipped his key into the lock and entered quietly. He could hear noises coming from the bedroom, so
he pushed the door open and stopped dead on the threshold. Dolly’s buttocks were rising and falling rhythmically and Jonathan was groaning hoarsely. Patrick looked at them coldly and said, “Father, I see you’ve taken my advice for once.” He paused and looked distastefully at Dolly’s opulent flesh. “Dolly, still doing all the work, I see. Don’t let me interrupt you, I’ll let myself out.” He placed his key on the table and quietly left. When he got outside, he leaned against the wall and laughed until the tears rolled down his face.

Patrick opened the front door to greet the Leavers.

“Hello, Patrick. Sorry my wife couldn’t come tonight, but her mother’s ill, so she begged to be excused and she sends her regrets.”

“Well, I’m glad you and your son could make it, James. You’re looking very well.” He shook hands with the two men. “Ah, here’s Father,” he said, keeping a bland expression on his face as he looked the older man in the eye. The table was beautiful and Julia was at her best, especially in male company. Her wit sparkled and her conversation never lagged.

Patrick was determined to use this visit to his advantage by letting his father in on the changes he had been making at the mill. If he could get James Leaver on his side, they would overrule the old man. Barbara sat beside her brother, desperately trying to think of something to add to the conversation. Finally she said, “This soup is delicious.”

Her father glowered at her from across the table, and Patrick smiled down at her and slipped her hand into his. She felt better immediately.

Patrick plunged in, “Father has abolished half-time for children at the mill.” Jonathan almost choked on his green peas.

James Leaver looked pleasantly surprised. “That was a
courageous thing to do, John; commendable, highly commendable.”

Before his father could speak, Patrick went on, “Mind you, it will cost him, but he’s decided to be generous.”

“Will you have difficulty finding workers to replace them?” Leaver asked. Patrick answered for his father, “As a matter of fact that’s another generous thing father has done. He’s brought over all our people from Ireland at his own expense and he’s giving them jobs at the mill.”

By the time Leaver and his son had finished complimenting Jonathan on his beneficence, O’Reilly realized Patrick had outmaneuvered him, so he decided to capitulate and bask in everyone’s approval.

“Have you changed over your looms yet?” asked young Leaver.

Patrick allowed his father to answer this time. “Monday morning we start production with the improvements.”

“Do you think there’ll be any trouble? Remember when James Barlow introduced power looms in his mill? The repercussions were terrible with the local hand-loom weavers.”

“If there is trouble, I’ll handle it!” said Jonathan darkly.

“Barlows—aren’t they the ones who make the satin quilts?” asked Julia.

“Oh, Patrick gave me a beautiful pink one,” piped up Barbara, then subsided into blushes.

Everyone smiled at her except her father. He spoke up quickly, “You two lasses can withdraw and leave us to our port.” Julia bristled—she hated these customs that gave men the upper hand in all dealings with women, but Barbara was relieved to escape.

When the two girls were alone, Julia said, “Are you packed for London yet?”

“No, I don’t think Papa will allow us to go,” answered Barbara.

“Nonsense! Patrick promised, and he always gets his way, doesn’t he?”

“You mean
you
do, Julia,” said Barbara, not afraid to be bold now.

Julia spied Kitty and said sharply, “Get my sister’s trunks out and pack for London. Be very careful with her things. You’re new, aren’t you? Are you sure that you know how to pack?”

Kitty answered. “Yes, ma’am,” and right away Julia sniffed, “Irish!”