Read Going Home Online

Authors: Valerie Wood

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas, #Romance, #General

Going Home (16 page)

‘We have never met anyone from Australia before.’ Elizabeth came into the room with a tea tray. ‘We know nothing at all about the country. Do we, Harriet?’ She glanced down at her sister.

‘No,’ Harriet said. ‘Absolutely nothing. Except what we have read in books.’

Elizabeth nodded and returned to the kitchen for the teapot, bringing it back wrapped in a quilted cosy to keep the tea hot. ‘Are you a born and bred Australian, Miss Boyle?’ she asked, ‘or an immigrant?’

‘I am a native Australian,’ Phoebe replied in a positive manner. ‘As native as Mr Mungo, though he wouldn’t agree with that. But my roots are very firmly set there, even though my parents were born in England.’

‘And what do you think of England, now that you are here?’ Harriet asked. ‘I expect you find it cold and damp compared with the climate of Australia!’

‘Yes, I do, I must admit, although the warmth of hospitality more than makes up for it. The Linton family are very welcoming,’ and she said it with such sincerity that Amelia felt very amiable towards her.

‘Holderness is a wonderful place,’ Jack added. ‘I hadn’t expected to find such wide open spaces as there are there, but the sea is very cold!’

‘We have never been,’ said Harriet, ‘although Amelia has invited us.’

‘Come soon,’ Amelia urged. ‘The weather is warmer now and it would be so nice if you would come whilst we have our friends still with us.’

Elizabeth started to demur, but Harriet interrupted her. ‘That would be nice, Amelia – and Elizabeth, I am to start as governess in three weeks, so we could go before I start. There will be little time off after that.’

They gave their congratulations on her success and it was agreed that the sisters should come the following weekend. ‘Papa will insist on sending the carriage for you,’ Amelia said. ‘So all you have to do is pack a valise. Oh, I am so pleased, and Elizabeth, the country air will bring back some colour to your cheeks.’

‘Perhaps we could visit Spurn Point again,’ Phoebe said eagerly. ‘That would be quite a
tonic for Miss Fielding.’ She turned to her. ‘It is such a magical place.’

Ralph and Philip Linton devised a plan on their way to Edward Scott’s house. Ralph was to say that he was in England on personal business, and that whilst he was here, he was looking into the possibility of starting up a confectionery business in Sydney, and that he had been told that York was the place to make enquiries. Philip would say he had introduced Ralph to his brother-in-law who lived in York and that he in turn had mentioned Edward Scott’s name.

‘We must keep it simple, Ralph, otherwise we shall get found out.’ Philip looked up the drive of the moderate house which they were now approaching. ‘He might not see us today of course.’

Ralph was exceedingly apprehensive. He had had a nervous tension in his stomach ever since setting off this morning. What if he didn’t like Scott? How was he to find out if he was his father? How would he bring up the subject of his mother? A million questions ran through his head and he didn’t have an answer to any one of them.

‘Bear up, young fellow.’ Philip dismounted and tied the reins to a rail. There was no groom scurrying round to take care of the horses, so obviously Scott didn’t keep a stable. He mounted the steps and noted that the paint on the door was faded and peeling in places. So he’s not rich,
unless he puts his money into something other than property. He put his finger on the bell and turned to Ralph who was slowly following him. ‘Come on,’ he encouraged. ‘He’s not going to eat you.’

Chapter Seventeen


MR SCOTT WILL
see you now, Captain Linton.’ The maid, who had answered the door and taken his card, invited them in.

‘So kind,’ Philip murmured and on being taken through to the small library, said to the man standing to greet him, ‘I do hope we are not disturbing you, Mr Scott? May I introduce you to Mr Ralph Hawkins, a relative of my wife, who is visiting us from Australia.’

Scott’s eyes narrowed. ‘Australia! You’re not a convict’s offspring are you? Or a poor farmer’s lad? I hear they went out in their thousands to try and make a living when they couldn’t make one here.’

Ralph bristled. This was an abrupt beginning. He didn’t care for Scott’s attitude towards a stranger, but he replied politely. ‘Yes sir, my parents were convicts. They stayed on in Australia and settled there.’

Scott grunted, but said no more and listened as Philip outlined their business and how they
had come across his name. ‘I understand you have been in the confectionery business for a good many years, Mr Scott, and are therefore experienced in the setting up of small shops.’

‘Yes,’ Scott agreed rather cautiously. ‘I’ve had one or two. There’s not a fortune to be made from them though, so if you are expecting instant riches, young man, then you’d have to look into something else – or get yourself a rich wife,’ he added with a guffaw.

He scanned Ralph up and down and Ralph was pleased that he had dressed in a plain jacket and trousers. I don’t appear as if I’m worth a fortune, he thought, but rather as if I need to make one.

‘Where did you say I’d met this relative of yours, Captain Linton?’ Scott asked Philip suddenly. ‘Albert – ?’

‘Gregory. At the racecourse, I think he said,’ Philip answered vaguely. ‘He seems to conduct most of his business there.’

‘Gregory! Yes, I’ve heard the name. Can’t remember meeting him though.’

‘He remembers you,’ Philip said firmly. ‘Said you had had two or three shops in York at one time – was one of them in your wife’s name?’

Scott’s lips set in a firm line. ‘My first wife, yes. You know how ladies get set about things, you have to pander to them occasionally.’

‘I do beg your pardon,’ Philip apologized. ‘I didn’t mean to intrude into your personal affairs.’

Scott waved his hand in an air of dismissal. ‘It was a long time ago. My wife died rather tragically and I sold the shop and bought another. I don’t talk about it.’

Philip nodded, but Ralph murmured sympathetically, ‘I trust you had the comfort of sons or daughters to sustain you, sir.’

‘No, I didn’t as a matter of fact,’ he grunted. ‘Never wanted any myself. Well, gentlemen.’ He changed the subject. ‘Shall we discuss business?’

As they rode back into York, Ralph asked, ‘What do you think, sir? Do I have a look of him? Could he be my father?’

Philip glanced at him. ‘You want me to say no, don’t you? That you are not in the least like that insufferable man?’

‘I do rather,’ Ralph agreed. ‘I can’t say that I took to him at all, but maybe he’ll improve on a second meeting.’

‘I doubt that very much. But as for you looking like him, I can’t honestly say. His colouring is different from yours, his hair is grey now but he has been dark. Your build is different too. Perhaps you are like your mother’s side. There’s no accounting for family likenesses, just look at my family. May and Roger are like their mother, Amelia is like me and the others are a mixture of the two.’

Yes, Ralph thought. Amelia is her father’s daughter, the same thick dark hair, the same dark eyes and his determined manner. Not soft and gentle like her mother. Yet, he surmised,
Aunt Emily must have had a strong backbone to have survived her former life. Perhaps Amelia is like her after all. We cannot judge by appearances.

He found himself looking at Amelia and her father, analysing their appearance, and then at Phoebe and comparing her with her parents. Phoebe looks so much like her mother, yet has none of her characteristics. I hope, he thought uneasily, that she has none of her father’s. Her brother, Edwin, I had always thought was like Captain Boyle, pretentious and conceited, but he is quieter now that he is older and seems less confident than he was when we were young. What a mixture we are. I’m beginning to wish I had never started this caper. It would have been better to remain in ignorance. I really don’t want Scott to be my father.

The Fielding sisters came to Holderness the following weekend. The weather was cold and blustery with some rain showers, so that they were not able to venture far, but Elizabeth said she was quite happy to stay indoors and enjoy the comfort of the beautiful house. She was pampered by both Amelia and her mother who perceived that she was not well and insisted that she had breakfast in bed each morning and that she had a rest during the afternoon.

‘You are spoiling me, Mrs Linton,’ she said, awaking from a nap by the fire in the sitting room as her hostess had tea brought in to her.

‘Not at all, my dear. Everyone else is busy doing something. Your sister and Amelia have gone for a walk, the men are riding around the estate, I don’t know where Miss Boyle is, but Mrs Boyle, believe it or not, is talking to Cook and Ginny in the kitchen.’ She laughed. ‘I do believe that she was quite amazed at our behaviour towards our staff, but now that she is used to us she can see that there is respect on both sides.’

‘It is a most unusual situation, Mrs Linton, although of course I have never had the experience of such a quantity of servants as you have, only a girl to help out; but their loyalty towards you is obvious, especially that of your housekeeper.’

‘Ginny. Ah, well, Ginny is very special. She is my friend as well as my housekeeper. We have known each other a long time.’

‘Most unusual though?’ Elizabeth repeated as she drank her tea.

‘Not really,’ said Mrs Linton. ‘You see, we were both servant girls. I haven’t always owned such a grand house. In fact, Miss Fielding, I worked here as a servant. But Ginny helped me such a lot when I was young and in trouble. I can never repay her for that.’

‘I didn’t know.’ Elizabeth put down her cup and saucer. ‘Amelia never said.’ Then she smiled and she seemed to lose her wanness. ‘So it is true,’ she said, ‘that gentlefolk are born and not made, for I would always have taken you for a true lady, Mrs Linton.’

The door opened as she was speaking and Mrs Boyle came in. ‘I can vouch for that,’ she said. ‘For I have met many so-called “ladies” at my brother’s house who have no breeding whatsoever, even though they profess to be high-born. And I have also met convict women in Australia, one in particular, who have the edge on them every time.’

‘Convict women, Mrs Boyle?’ Elizabeth Fielding’s voice was hushed.

‘You speak of Meg?’ Mrs Linton interrupted. ‘My dearest friend Meg whom I miss so much, even after so many years.’

‘And my friend too,’ said Mrs Boyle. ‘Although my husband would disapprove if he knew of our friendship.’

Elizabeth looked from one to another. ‘I don’t understand! How can you possibly have a friendship with a convict woman, Mrs Boyle? Did she not do something terribly wicked to be sent out as a convict?’

‘No more than I,’ Emily Linton replied softly. ‘For I was sent out too.’

Then the two older women looked at each other in concern as Elizabeth Fielding put her pale face in her shaking hands and wept as if her heart would break.

‘She is under a great strain, Harriet,’ Amelia said later after they had sat by her sister’s bedside. Mrs Linton had despatched Elizabeth there and sent for the doctor.

‘It is because we have only one pupil left, Amelia, and her fee won’t pay the bills. That is why I am going to work as a governess; but Elizabeth worries so.’

‘Then I have a suggestion to make,’ Amelia said firmly. ‘Elizabeth can stay here with Mama until she is feeling better, and I will come back to York with you and teach that one pupil.’

‘But you have guests, Amelia! You can’t leave them to their own devices.’

‘Cousin Ralph is going back to York anyway and Mrs Boyle and Phoebe are travelling to Harrogate in a day or so to visit acquaintances, so that just leaves Jack, and he will probably go with Ralph. It will only be for a few days, Harriet, until Elizabeth has recovered.’

She viewed Harriet anxiously. ‘Are you sure there is nothing more that is worrying Elizabeth? Her troubles seem so very deep-seated.’

Harriet shook her head. ‘Have you ever had financial worries, Amelia? Is there anything more worrying than losing the roof over your head?’

‘Perhaps not,’ agreed Amelia who never had had those problems, but she was not wholly convinced and neither, she knew, was her mother. ‘But I am quite sure that there is something more.’

‘Miss Fielding is in some kind of crisis,’ the doctor reported to Emily Linton. ‘Perhaps there is something worrying her that she is not telling us. Keep her in bed for a few days, give her eggs,
milk and cream to build up her stamina, and then bring her downstairs for short periods. Don’t let her be disturbed by loud noises or excitement.’

Elizabeth, however, insisted that there was nothing wrong with her, she had simply become overtired. ‘We have been very short of money all our lives, Mrs Linton,’ she admitted. ‘But we have always managed. Lately, however, it has been more difficult to make ends meet.’ Then she rallied and put on a brave smile. ‘I feel so much better having been here and now that Harriet is to be settled in her new position, things are looking so much brighter.’

‘If you wish to talk anything over, Miss Fielding, do please feel assured that you would have my confidence. I do know so well that sometimes we need to share our problems.’

Elizabeth insisted that she had no further worries. She said that she would stay for a few more days and that perhaps she could make herself useful in helping Lily with her studies. Lily, she had observed, was an intelligent girl with an academic brain. ‘She could go far in any profession, Mrs Linton, if you and Captain Linton would permit it. Please don’t allow her talents to be wasted because she is a female.’

Amelia, Harriet, Ralph and Jack travelled to York by train and Amelia was embarrassed by the scrutiny which Jack was subjected to by the other passengers. How does he bear it? she
wondered. Yet he seems not to notice or else not to care.

‘Will you visit Mr Scott again, Ralph?’ she asked later as the two men escorted her and Harriet to the Fielding house.

‘I must,’ Ralph said. ‘And I shall take Jack with me this time. He is going to assume the role of my servant. I want Scott’s reaction to the possibility of my having wealth.’

‘But why?’ Amelia puzzled. ‘I thought the object was to find out if he is your father.’

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