Emily (41 page)

Philip found Roger Francis the next morning with his farm beadle. He was just about to mount his horse and inspect the estate, but on Philip’s news he immediately changed his plans. He ordered the carriage to be made ready for their journey, and called for the housekeeper to prepare for the return of his daughter. He looked pale and spoke in a breathless way, and rubbed on his chest nervously.

Philip refused a ride in the carriage and took the journey back slowly. He noted the vast landscape and tried to see it as if through Emily’s eyes. The wide sky was painted with streaks of sunlight and
masses of cloud formed and reformed as it was gently buffeted by the north-east wind. He stopped for a glass of ale and bread and ham in the bustling market town of Hedon and wondered if by any chance he could be following in Emily’s footsteps, for this would have been the nearest town to Elmswell Manor, where she had once worked.

Roger Francis was so anxious about his daughter that he hadn’t mentioned Emily, and Philip mused as he remounted and took the turnpike road towards Hull, that the question of a pardon lay in his own hands and his alone.

Philip called at Hugo Purnell’s the following day and reminded him that he still owed him fifty guineas. ‘The fact is, Purnell, I need the money now.’

‘I don’t even remember borrowing money from you,’ Hugo said sullenly. ‘When was it?’

‘A long time ago! I consider I have been very patient.’ Philip fished in his pocket. ‘Here’s your IOU. I’ve presented it at the bank but they won’t honour it.’

‘I can’t pay it!’

‘Nonsense!’ Philip was scornful. ‘You have this splendid house, beautifully furnished. You must have some money.’

‘It’s my wife’s money that bought the house,’ he growled, ‘and I don’t expect her allowance until the end of the month. I tell you I haven’t got a
sou
.’

‘Sell something, then.’ Philip hardened his voice. ‘Your wife’s jewellery or a piece of furniture.’

‘Can’t.’ Hugo slumped into a chair. ‘The furniture’s not paid for. I’m being pressed for payment
and my wife doesn’t have any jewellery. Besides, she’s not here.’

‘Not here?’ Philip dared. ‘Where is she, then?’

‘God knows, I don’t. She got out of the house and has disappeared.’

‘What do you mean, got out of the house? Did you have her prisoner or something?’

Hugo poured himself a whisky, but didn’t offer Philip one. ‘She’s off her head, you know. Got out the other night while I was entertaining a few friends.’ He looked up at him and frowned. ‘Weren’t you here?’

‘Was I invited?’

‘I can’t remember.’ He ran his hand over his eyes. ‘I don’t know who was here. I’ve got rid of half the staff anyway for letting her get out. And I’ve just told that bitch Alice she can go. She was supposed to be looking after her.’

Philip had wondered at the absence of footmen and maids. A nervous kitchen maid had answered his knock on the front door. ‘Well, be that as it may, Purnell. I need the money pretty badly and although we’ve known each other a long time, I’m very much afraid that I’ll have to go to law to get it.’

Hugo stared in astonishment. ‘You wouldn’t?’

‘I would. I consider I’ve waited long enough.’

‘But I could go to gaol if you press!’

‘Yes. And if I press then so will your other creditors. You’ll lose your house and your possessions. Perhaps you should speak to your father-in-law,’ he said, knowing he was rubbing salt into the wound. ‘Surely he’ll help you out?’

‘You’d press me for a measly fifty guineas!’

‘It might be measly to you but not to me!’ Philip replied nastily. ‘I’ll expect to hear from you by the end of the week, otherwise I see my lawyer.’

He trotted briskly along the road towards Hull and saw a woman in front of him struggling with a large bag. He turned to observe her as he passed and then reined in. ‘Hello. It’s Alice, isn’t it?’

She looked up. Her face was flushed and angry. ‘What’s it to you?’

‘I’ve just been to the Purnells’. I didn’t get a very warm welcome.’

She scowled at him and then said curiously, ‘Weren’t you there ’other night? Yes! You were. Did you let her out?’

‘Her?’ Philip asked smoothly. ‘Of whom are you speaking?’

She tossed her head back towards Hessle. ‘Mrs Purnell. Somebody broke ’door and let her out. It was you, wasn’t it?’ She spoke roughly, there was no respect in her voice and Philip guessed that she had probably been encouraged to be harsh with Deborah Purnell.

‘It might have been. Do you know what the punishment is for keeping someone prisoner and under duress?’

‘I only did what I was told,’ she said sharply. ‘I was only obeying him.’

‘And I expect he paid you well for doing so. You were Hugo Purnell’s accomplice in keeping his wife locked up.’

Her face paled and she began to look nervous. ‘No. He made me do it!’

‘But you enjoyed it, didn’t you? You enjoyed
having someone of a higher class in your power. It won’t look very good when it’s brought to court, and I expect that Hugo Purnell will blame you entirely. He does that with people, doesn’t he?’

She shifted uncomfortably and looked up and down the road as if for a means of escape. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘I was thinking of Emily Hawkins,’ he said harshly. ‘You know that she was transported to Australia because of Purnell? You wouldn’t like that, would you?’

‘I never meant anything.’ She bit her lip. ‘It’s just that he persuades you. He promises everything. He said I could have some of her jewellery, but I never got any. He sold it to pay his debts.’

‘Have you proof of that?’ His voice was terse, his manner cold. ‘When Mrs Purnell comes to claim it back, he’ll probably say that you have stolen it.’

She looked up at him and he could see the beginnings of fear. ‘Will she come back?’

He shrugged. ‘She might not, but her father most certainly will. He hasn’t been allowed to see her for weeks. Something is very wrong. I’d like to talk to you,’ he added, softening his tone. ‘I might be able to help you in this difficulty, but I would need something in return.’

‘Huh,’ she said derisively. ‘That’s what they all say!’

He viewed her with distaste. ‘Don’t misunderstand me! I need to know if you have any knowledge of what happened to Emily Hawkins. Of the child she gave birth to and the picture that was damaged.’

‘I’ll tell you,’ she said slyly, ‘if you’ll help me. I’ve no job and no reference ’cos he wouldn’t give me one. Give me a ride into town, I know an inn where we can talk.’

She was happy to talk once he had given her a glass of ale and a meal of meat pie and peas and had put a guinea on the table. ‘I’ll need more’n that,’ she said with her mouth full.

‘Not until I hear what you have to say,’ he said firmly. ‘First of all about Emily and the child.’

‘He raped her. He told me that he’d taken Emily on his wedding night. Boasted about it. Said as he couldn’t have his wife he’d have Emily.’

‘Couldn’t have his wife?’ Philip recoiled at approaching such a delicate subject, but Alice, it appeared, had no such scruples.

‘Never been near her,’ she said, mopping up the gravy with a hunk of bread. ‘’Cos she’s not all there and there’s madness in ’family he daren’t risk having any bairns! I know’, she pointed a greasy finger at him, ‘’cos I slept in next room to hers with ’door open. Anyway,’ she picked at her teeth with a fingernail, ‘’bairn that Emily had was stillborn. I said as much at ’time but he told me to keep quiet, and as for that picture –’, she gave a coarse laugh, ‘he said it was valuable, didn’t he? Well, he’d got it from one of ’street artists in Florence when he was visiting there one time. He pointed them out to me when I went with him and his wife. There was hundreds of ’em, pictures of women I mean. Some were nearly naked, some were getting out of a tub, and some, well, I wouldn’t tell a gentleman like you what they were up to. But he didn’t pay
more’n five bob for it, I know that for sure.’

He gave her the guinea and promised her two more if she would verify what she had said in court or in front of a lawyer. She agreed and told him that she was going back to live at her mother’s and gave him the address. When he saw where she lived he knew that she would soon be glad of the further payment, and had no doubt that she would be willing to earn it. Now all he had to do was wait until the end of the week and hope that Purnell had no means of paying off his debt to him.

There was no money and no message by the weekend, so on the Monday morning he went to his lawyer to instruct him to press for the payment of debt.

‘You may not get your money, Mr Linton,’ the lawyer said ponderously. ‘I have heard through various channels that Mrs Purnell’s allowance has been stopped by Mr Francis.’

‘I didn’t think he could do that!’

The lawyer cleared his throat. ‘It appears that the marriage may not have been consummated. This I must say to you is only what I have heard through chambers, and I tell you in confidence. If it is so, then the marriage could be annulled.’

Philip thought of Alice’s words on the matter. So Deborah Purnell is free, he thought jubilantly, and she cannot be forced to go back. ‘Go ahead’, he said determinedly, ‘and press the lawsuit. I want my money back and if I don’t get it I want to see him in the debtors’ prison.’

‘There’s somebody coming.’ Meg narrowed her eyes as she looked down the hill. ‘Somebody in uniform.’

‘Mr Clavell?’ Emily joined her on the veranda; she had just come in from feeding the hens. ‘No,’ she said, ‘it’s not. Who can it be?’

They watched as the rider came nearer. He didn’t sit easily on his horse whoever it was. ‘It’s that beggar Boyle,’ Meg said suddenly. ‘What’s he want with us?’

‘I don’t know,’ Emily said uneasily and went inside to take off her apron.

‘Good morning. I thought I’d drop by to enquire if everything is all right.’ Boyle sounded quite pleasant as he dismounted.

‘Come to see if we’re still here, more like,’ Meg muttered beneath her breath.

‘Everything’s quite all right, thank you,’ Emily said calmly. ‘Mr Linton made every provision for us before he went away.’

‘Unusual situation.’ Boyle’s glance took in the house, the vegetable plot, the hen coop and the pigsty and the sheep grazing in the far pastures.
‘I mean to leave a place like this in charge of a convict!’

‘He didn’t,’ Emily said abruptly. ‘Mr Clavell is in charge. He comes regularly. In fact we expect him today.’

‘Oh.’ Boyle looked disappointed. ‘So where’s Johnson?’

‘Tending the sheep.’ Emily didn’t volunteer any more information and Boyle turned his attention towards Meg.

‘And how is the child?’ He grinned as he spoke as if he knew of something amusing.

‘He’s well,’ Meg answered brusquely. ‘Did you want to inspect him to make sure he’s still here?’

‘Not my place,’ Boyle said dismissively. ‘Nothing to do with me what Linton does. He can collect as many women and children as he wants.’ Then he addressed Emily. ‘I’d like to have a look around.’ As she hesitated, he added, ‘I’m thinking of buying a place of my own and bringing my wife out.’

She stepped down from the veranda and joined him and walked towards the creek. She felt uneasy, remembering his cruelty towards Meg and Joe and his attention to her at the beginning of the voyage.

‘How does it feel, then,’ he smiled, looking down at her, ‘being almost free? Though of course you’ll never be completely free will you, not when you’re
housekeeper
to a gentleman?’ He put a particular mocking emphasis on the word housekeeper.

‘I’ve been a servant girl before, Mr Boyle,’ she answered solemnly, not rising to his bait. ‘I know my position and what is expected of me.’

They were approaching the creek and a small
copse of trees. ‘You know your position, do you?’ he asked. ‘And what position is that?’ He came closer to her and she edged nervously away. ‘On your back, is it, Emily? Is that how Linton likes you?’

She felt a sudden terror and his round, flaccid face seemed to transpose into the thin-cheeked, gloating features of Hugo Purnell. In her fear she cried out and swung out at him and caught him on his chin. He grabbed her arm and held her tightly. ‘What a little firebrand! Who would have thought it? Looks so sweet and innocent too.’ He put his face near to hers and wet his lips with his tongue. ‘Give me a kiss, Emily, and I’ll say nothing about you assaulting me.’

She struggled to pull away, but he held her fast, leaning over her and straining for her mouth. Suddenly he gave a sharp exclamation and let go of her, putting his hand to the back of his head and dropping down to his knees. ‘Ow! What the devil was that? I’ve been shot!’

But there was no sound. Emily looked around, there was no sign of Joe, who had a rifle, neither was Meg on the veranda holding the pistol as she might have been. She moved out of his reach and glanced at the other side of the creek and saw a movement amongst the trees. Boyle looked at his hand. ‘I’m bleeding,’ he gasped. ‘I’ve been shot!’

‘You can’t have been shot, Mr Boyle,’ she said hurriedly. ‘We would have heard it.’

He made to get up, but was immediately struck again on the side of his forehead. This time they saw the weapon. A small sharp stone dropped to the ground. Boyle looked up. ‘There’s somebody
in those trees. Look, over there. It’s a black. A native. I’ll have him whipped for this!’

‘I don’t see anyone,’ she lied and the words died on her lips as the old Aborigine appeared in full view, with his stick held high in one hand and the other clasped as if holding something. Boyle put his hand for his pistol, but before he could draw it was hit on the hand by another stone.

‘Don’t,’ she cried. ‘Don’t shoot him, he’s harmless!’

‘Harmless!’ Boyle held his bruised hand in the other. ‘He could have killed me!’

‘Yes, he could,’ she said nervously. ‘But he didn’t. He was protecting me.’

‘Protecting you! Does Linton know there are dangerous blacks on his land?’ Boyle backed away towards the house.

‘Yes, as a matter of fact he does. He keeps an eye on the flocks and he kills the dingoes.’

‘With a stone?’ he said sarcastically.

‘No, with his stick.’