Dreams Can Come True (7 page)

“Can I have time to think about it? I should inform my parents first before I say yes to you.”

“There is not a lot of time, Hannah. I would need your decision before I leave. Do say yes, my darling and you’ll make me the happiest man alive.”

They had the last waltz and he held her as if she was spun sugar, whispering loving endearments into her ear and pleading that she tell him if she had made up her mind.

Hannah was dizzy with his impassioned attention, a little too dizzy if truth was told from the drinks she had consumed. And when Jeremy tapped on the door of the guest room at Causey Hall later, she had made up her befuddled mind that she was going to marry him. So, it was natural, wasn’t it, for a couple who had just agreed to a betrothal between them, to show a little passion? Especially when one of them was going overseas.

“Hannah, darling,” Jeremy wheedled, as he lay beside her on the bed. “Give me something to remember you by, in my lonely moments before I go to sleep. Let me love you. Let me take the memory of your sweet kisses and your tender warm body with me. I’ll know then that you are mine forevermore.”

He slid his pyjama-clad body under the blanket to get even closer.

She was won over by his touching declarations, though only expected him to do a little more in the way of kisses; not begin to probe her in her private place, nor begin to knead her bosoms as if she was going to turn into a loaf of bread. Then her senses began to stir and she began to retaliate, thrusting her body about in a very unladylike fashion, as he caressed her in places that she had never thought about before. Though when she felt his hard member, urgently seeking its way between her parted legs, Hannah felt she had to say something. Her mother had told her that this act that Jeremy was about to carry out could bring an unmarried girl’s name into disrepute.

“Stop, Jeremy,” Hannah slurred her words. Intoxicated she might be, but this thing she was about to partake in could bring on long-lasting consequences. She sat up quickly, causing Jeremy to slither from on top of her.

“What is it Hannah? Can’t you see I’m ready for you? A chap could die of agony if his function isn’t fulfilled, you know.”

“But you might give me a baby and we’re not married. Jeremy, I would be mortified if I found that I was expecting.”

“Oh, do lie back, Hannah. Everyone knows you can’t have a baby the first time. And the next time we do it you’ll be bearing my name!”

She stretched luxuriously under the bedclothes next morning, as the early morning light filtered through the gap in the curtains. A small clock on the bedside table told her it was just after seven. A few minutes more and she would be attended by a maid.

It had always surprised Hannah when she had stayed at the Adshead’s before, that such a wealthy family had not modernised their living quarters. At Selwyn Lodge there was a very pleasant bathroom. Here, they relied on the maid to bring the washing water in a jug. Hannah ran her hands carefully over her body, as her mind relived the passion shared with Jeremy. She was tender in places, sore in another and she looked forward to a deep-filled bath when she returned home later.

But first she must dress and go downstairs to breakfast, there to see her betrothed one, who would probably announce over breakfast that they were to be married the following year.

The maid, who was called Milly, arrived ten minutes later and helped Hannah into the dark blue day dress that she had left in the room the evening before. Her hair was brushed and coaxed into glossy ringlets, which were pinned on top of Hannah’s head and ribbons threaded through.

Milly left and Hannah finished her ablutions, then slowly walked down the rather grand staircase into the morning room.

“Good morning, Mrs. Adshead, Cecelia, Florence. It looks as if we shall be having good weather today.”

“It certainly does, Hannah. It is a pity that Jeremy, Montague and your brother have had to return to their barracks. I’d a mind that they were planning to go shooting, get some practice in before they go. Help yourself to breakfast, you know where everything is. Is your father coming to collect you as usual, as we will be leaving for church at half past ten?”

Hannah felt deflated. She was certain that Jeremy would have made some announcement. It was too important not to have done.

She helped herself to kedgeree; the Adshead’s cook made a delicious one and Hannah usually had to control herself and not return for more. Today though, she played with the fish bits, pushing it with the rice around her plate. Perhaps Jeremy had told his father before he had set out? If he had, again there was no mention, except that Mr. Adshead had left the carriage for the ladies, as he wanted to walk the two miles to church.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night, Hannah?” inquired her hostess. “You seemed to be getting along very well with Jeremy. Pity Lady Lydiate and her daughter Catherine were indisposed at the last moment. We had high hopes of a match between Jeremy and Catherine, but I suppose they will write to each other while Jeremy is overseas. And he’s a little too young for marriage at twenty one.”

“I heard him telling Monty this morning that he was going to call on Catherine at Lydiate Hall before he goes away,” said Florence.

“I did too,” chimed in Cecelia and gave Hannah a surreptitious grin. Hannah went hot with embarrassment. Did Cecelia know what had happened between her and Jeremy? The girls’ bedrooms were on the same floor.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Adshead, I’m not feeling very well this morning. Perhaps it was something I ate last night, but I’ll gather my things up from the bedroom then wait for my father at the Lodge. It will give me time to take advantage of the fresh air.”

“Oh, I do hope it isn’t the same complaint that Catherine seems to have gone down with.”

So do I, thought Hannah, as she walked up the stairs.

What a fool she had been. Carried away with romantic dreams of being married to the son of a wealthy landowner, when all the time there was sweet, simpering Catherine Lydiate being eyed up as a future brood mare to continue the Adshead line. Jeremy was probably at this very moment boasting of his conquest, how he had tumbled the very willing daughter of a jumped-up Irish man. Oh, she had heard the whispers, the giggles behind the hands of some of her so called friends, but she was surprised that Cecelia hadn’t told her of the Adshead’s wish to marry their son off into the landed gentry. She felt betrayed and very hurt as she walked down the long gravel drive.

Hannah dashed away self-pitying tears, as she saw her father driving the carriage up the country lane. He would be mortified if he knew the truth, that his daughter had behaved like a trollop. Though she was surprised, if she was honest with herself. Her mother had behaved just the same. But the difference was, or so she believed, Kitty May had been in love. She had nursed Jack when he’d been very ill, had been willing to leave her homeland and her family for him, then had paid the ultimate price. Hannah had only been attracted to Jeremy for the status it would bring. Mrs. Hannah Adshead. What an important-sounding name it had seemed.

As she settled herself in the carriage, her father whistling happily above, she wondered if Jeremy had lied, or had he been serious in wanting them to marry? Was his proposal just a ruse to gain access to her bed? Her head swam with unhappy thoughts, confusion and bitterness. Now that Jeremy was off to serve in India, she felt she might never know.

The house was quiet when they got back home. Olive and Joan had not started work and Maggie had gone with Alice to church. Jack made them both a coffee to drink in the sun-warmed conservatory. He wanted to know all about her evening and who was there at the ball.

“I’m glad yer mixing with people such as the Adsheads, Hannah. Imagine. A daughter of mine staying in a grand mansion like Causey Hall and being invited to rub shoulders with the gentry. Not that we couldn’t afford to live in a place as splendid as that one, but yer mother loves Selwyn Lodge so there’s not much chance of us ever moving house. Still, one day, who knows, you might receive a proposal from one of those fellows. Do yer like Jeremy or Montague? Which one does yer heart beat the fastest for?”

“Neither, Papa. I thought I had a liking for Jeremy, but he’s a cad. Last night we danced and danced and he said that I meant the world to him, but this morning I heard that he’s virtually betrothed to Lady Lydiate’s daughter, Catherine. He just played with my affections. I’m glad he’s going off to India, because I wouldn’t want to see him anymore.”

Jack looked indignant.

“I hope he didn’t do more than play with your affections, Hannah, because if he has I’ll be over to Chester Barracks and he’ll get the beating he deserves.”

Hannah sat quietly for a moment, sipping her coffee while she wondered if was there any point in telling her father what had happened. He would be very angry, get his shot gun, demand that Hannah’s honour would be paid for in the form of marriage. But did she really want that? Force Jeremy into something that he may regret for the rest of his life? Oh, she’d have the status, and the social life, but he would despise her, scorn her and probably hate her.

And her father, what would he think of her after he knew? Hannah shuddered to think.

“No, Papa. All I have is hurt feelings and tired feet. I think I’ll go and have a bath, then lie down for a while.”

“And I’ll go and look the horses over. Hopefully we’ll have another addition to the stables soon.”

Jack took himself down to the stable block. The horses whinnied in greeting and he fed them each a handful of hay. They were well looked after by Fergal, a cousin of Paddy Fearon’s who had worked as a blacksmith in Ireland but had wanted to emigrate, for reasons he kept to himself. Since arriving, he had found himself a young widow in the village; a woman who only came up to his elbow, but who loved Fergal with a devotion that he wouldn’t have found anywhere else.

Jack had two carriage horses, black stallions, both fifteen hands high, named Lincoln and Jefferson. There was also Simba who Hannah rode. A bay horse, dark reddish-brown with a black mane and tail.

Secure in a paddock outside Chester was Jack’s pride and joy. A racing horse named Fletcher. Brought over from a stud farm in Wicklow, the animal was being trained by Thomas Butler, with a view to bringing Fletcher up to the standard of Jack’s other horse, Dalton. Dalton, his first ever horse, had already won at Epsom and the Derby and Jack had plans of mixing business with pleasure, visiting a few places in Ireland on the lookout for another likely winner and taking Maggie back to Killala as well.

Maggie needed a rest. With Betty gone, she had a greater share of responsibility, driving herself to make decisions that would be a daunting task for a man. Not content to sit back and let others do her bidding, Maggie made sure that her mind was a match for Mr. Arlington. Her latest plan was to buy up all the land that was being sold by Farmer Briggs.

Jack smiled to himself as he ran his hand over Jefferson’s fetlocks. Maggie never ceased to amaze him; there was always a plan a, b, and c. He had never quite got over coming back from America and seeing how much everything had changed. He had expected her to be taking in sewing or giving his mother a hand, looking after his two babies and never looking at another man. He had been surprised to learn that there had been another man in the background; Eddie’s uncle, Johnny. Though Maggie had assured him that Johnny had been the perfect gentleman, the very idea of another man in his wife’s life had made Jack very jealous. Which brought to his mind his daughter. Adshead’s son had obviously been dallying with Hannah’s affections and Jack could see that the girl was upset when he had picked her up from Causey Hall. Her eyes had looked full of anguish and she had taken to her bed when Jack had left her to come down to the stables. If he ever found out the swine had interfered with his darling daughter, and for some uneasy reason he felt that was the case, Jack vowed to get even, whatever the price.

Maggie and Alice walked down Burton Road together, chatting about the service and Mrs. Fielding’s silly hat. It was a bright sunny day, so Maggie decided to walk to the promenade with her mother in law, rather than head back home just yet. Joan would start the dinner at twelve and Olive wouldn’t serve it until two.

Maggie hadn’t visited Seagull Cottage since Alice had provided Christmas tea for the family. She had been very busy with her Sheldon interests and the charities that involved fundraising as well. Strange how money opened doors to society; she was always being asked to social events and open houses by the leading wives of the community.

When Maggie thought back to when she had first arrived from Killala, it made her smile. No way would she have been accepted into these circles twenty years ago, probably not even as a serving maid. The Irish were a race that had been viewed with rancour and suspicion, but hadn’t she shown them all? Now, half the population of the area had cause to be grateful for her presence. If there wasn’t a company like Sheldon, some of the local families would find it hard to exist.

“So, what do yer think, Maggie, should I tell him “no”?” asked Alice and Maggie realised that the woman was waiting for an answer. The question, Maggie didn’t know.

“Sorry, Alice, me mind was wandering. Should yer tell who “no”?”

“Mr. Arlington of course. He’s asked me to marry him. Now that Jack’s dad has passed over these last twelve months, Mr. Arlington thought it a decent enough space of time to ask me ter marry him.”

Hmm, Maggie thought. Mr. Arlington never did anything unless there was an advantage for him in it. She had learnt that lesson with her dealings with him over many years. He must be after Alice’s money or her property, because he already had her cooking, having been her lodger for twenty one years. Alice was now in a very vulnerable position; a comfortably off widow since Michael, her husband, was carried off by the cholera, the house owned outright and regular money coming in. There had only been one change in the whole time Alice had been a landlady at Seagull Cottage. Mr. Dickinson, one of her first lodgers, had been replaced by a Mr. Andrews instead.