find her giving suck to the infant while Toby slept soundly.
‘Our mother sent this,’ said William quietly, delivering the final message in the shape of a leather bag full of silver and gold coins. ‘It was to be Betty Ackroyd’s gift to you, upon your wedding day. It is Betty’s savings.’
He wanted to say more and felt he could not, but Charlotte said it for him. One hand moved protectively over the little mound of earned money.
‘It shall not be lightly spent,’ she whispered. ‘I shall keep it safe until I need it. Tell my mother I thank her and thank Betty.’
She lifted up her face to be kissed, and he marvelled at the change in her, weak though she still was from the delivery. Her eyes were calm, her face had lost its childish aspect, her mouth was firm and yet tender. She was no longer the victim of her impetuosity, or of the circumstances which had followed upon her choice. She was a survivor. The family might regret her difficulties, rail at them, be sorry for them, but they need not fear for her. Charlotte’s weakness for self-sacrifice had been channelled by this dependent creature at her breast. Though her problems were manifold she would not yield to them lest her child suffer.
‘Tell my mother,’ she whispered, ‘that we shall call him Ambrose, which was her father’s name, and — though I have not been to church of late — he shall be christened.’
‘She will be glad of that.’
‘And tell her that all is pretty well with us, now.’
‘I shall describe Mrs Coates and Polly Slack to her complete satisfaction.’
‘And — though Toby cannot leave his business — in the summer, when London is unhealthy, I shall come home and bring the baby to see them all.’
‘That will please her most.’
‘And — oh, speak well of Toby for me.’
He kissed her cheek again in solemn promise, and she caught his hand, saying, ‘And I am glad you came, Willie. And, Willie, was it not strange when Mrs Coates walked in to save us all? As though Betty had come back when she was needed!’
‘I shall tell Mamma that, too. And now Lottie, dearest Lottie, I must go. For the Mail waits for no man!’
‘Oh, I forgot to ask you, did you get your business done? The business that brought you here?’
Was there a teasing gleam in those velvet eyes? He could not be sure, and Charlotte was not stupid.
The purpose of my visit is accomplished,’ said William with dry humour, ‘and Toby has promised to keep me informed of all future developments in the iron industry, both gossip and fact. He has already given me information about Mr Cort’s puddling process.’
‘I shall remember that, if he forgets!’ Then her eyes filled with tears, her lips trembled, and she held out her infant, crying, ‘Oh, kiss the baby, too, for he is your nephew — and, who knows, he may help you at the forge when he is older, as you helped Aaron Helm. And my father shall teach him to ride. And tell my mother he shall be as learned in Latin and Greek as any scholar … ’
‘God bless and keep you, love,’ said William, giving her a final resolute embrace, then turned to the door so that he should not be riven by her weeping.
Polly Slack made tea and toast for him, and he slipped a shilling into her unexpectant palm and bade her look after her new mistress, and left her staring astonished at the little coin.
He was troubled until he reached St Martin’s-le-Grand, where an insolent fop wearing a sword called him ‘Johnnie Bumpkin’ and bade him step off the pavement to let his betters pass ! William’s gorge rose. Heedless of rank or sword or consequence, he set down his bags, dealt the fellow a blow like a sledge-hammer and left him lying in the mud with a little crowd about him.
‘Pox on ‘em all!’ said William to himself, stepping victoriously aboard the Royal Mail.
He found a curious satisfaction in using this London oath against the Londoners, and settled back in his seat like a seasoned
‘Our mother sent this,’ said William quietly, delivering the final message in the shape of a leather bag full of silver and gold coins. ‘It was to be Betty Ackroyd’s gift to you, upon your wedding day. It is Betty’s savings.’
He wanted to say more and felt he could not, but Charlotte said it for him. One hand moved protectively over the little mound of earned money.
‘It shall not be lightly spent,’ she whispered. ‘I shall keep it safe until I need it. Tell my mother I thank her and thank Betty.’
She lifted up her face to be kissed, and he marvelled at the change in her, weak though she still was from the delivery. Her eyes were calm, her face had lost its childish aspect, her mouth was firm and yet tender. She was no longer the victim of her impetuosity, or of the circumstances which had followed upon her choice. She was a survivor. The family might regret her difficulties, rail at them, be sorry for them, but they need not fear for her. Charlotte’s weakness for self-sacrifice had been channelled by this dependent creature at her breast. Though her problems were manifold she would not yield to them lest her child suffer.
‘Tell my mother,’ she whispered, ‘that we shall call him Ambrose, which was her father’s name, and — though I have not been to church of late — he shall be christened.’
‘She will be glad of that.’
‘And tell her that all is pretty well with us, now.’
‘I shall describe Mrs Coates and Polly Slack to her complete satisfaction.’
‘And — though Toby cannot leave his business — in the summer, when London is unhealthy, I shall come home and bring the baby to see them all.’
‘That will please her most.’
‘And — oh, speak well of Toby for me.’
He kissed her cheek again in solemn promise, and she caught his hand, saying, ‘And I am glad you came, Willie. And, Willie, was it not strange when Mrs Coates walked in to save us all? As though Betty had come back when she was needed!’
‘I shall tell Mamma that, too. And now Lottie, dearest Lottie, I must go. For the Mail waits for no man!’
‘Oh, I forgot to ask you, did you get your business done? The business that brought you here?’
Was there a teasing gleam in those velvet eyes? He could not be sure, and Charlotte was not stupid.
The purpose of my visit is accomplished,’ said William with dry humour, ‘and Toby has promised to keep me informed of all future developments in the iron industry, both gossip and fact. He has already given me information about Mr Cort’s puddling process.’
‘I shall remember that, if he forgets!’ Then her eyes filled with tears, her lips trembled, and she held out her infant, crying, ‘Oh, kiss the baby, too, for he is your nephew — and, who knows, he may help you at the forge when he is older, as you helped Aaron Helm. And my father shall teach him to ride. And tell my mother he shall be as learned in Latin and Greek as any scholar … ’
‘God bless and keep you, love,’ said William, giving her a final resolute embrace, then turned to the door so that he should not be riven by her weeping.
Polly Slack made tea and toast for him, and he slipped a shilling into her unexpectant palm and bade her look after her new mistress, and left her staring astonished at the little coin.
He was troubled until he reached St Martin’s-le-Grand, where an insolent fop wearing a sword called him ‘Johnnie Bumpkin’ and bade him step off the pavement to let his betters pass ! William’s gorge rose. Heedless of rank or sword or consequence, he set down his bags, dealt the fellow a blow like a sledge-hammer and left him lying in the mud with a little crowd about him.
‘Pox on ‘em all!’ said William to himself, stepping victoriously aboard the Royal Mail.
He found a curious satisfaction in using this London oath against the Londoners, and settled back in his seat like a seasoned
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