For a Father's Pride (26 page)

‘Right, Tuesday it is.’ Clifford let out a sigh of relief.

Outside, in the sharp April sunshine, Clifford looked at the market square of Hawes. He’d not been in town for such a long time. The Crown was thronged with customers. He
put his hand in his pocket, pulling out a handful of silver and copper, perhaps just enough for an odd drink. He looked at his scarred red and twisted hand; he’d not attract many women with
that by his side. Damn that lad – it was his entire fault; everything was the little bastard’s fault. And now the women of the house were protecting him.

‘Middleton – bloody hell, man, you’re back in the land of the living.’ Joshua Oversby slapped him across the back and shouted as Clifford entered the inn. ‘Bad do
about the hand, old chap. Still, you look as if you’re still up for it.’ Oversby screwed up his nose as he looked at Clifford’s hand, making everyone else around him look at his
disfigurement. ‘You’re just the man I want, when I think about it.’

‘Why? Are you after some money? ’Cause if you are, you’re out of luck. I’ve just enough on me to buy an odd drink, and that’s my lot.’ Clifford was mad with
the loud-mouthed soak, for everyone had shied away from him, now they realized how bad his arm looked.

‘Nay, nay, man. Let me buy you a drink, I’ve a proposal for you that’ll get you in the good books of the hunt – you know how much they like their sport.’ Oversby
ordered the serving girl to bring them a gill each, and then he whispered his request in Clifford’s ear.

‘So, we’ve both to go down to the solicitor’s on Tuesday?’ Kitty and Daisy stood around Clifford Middleton as he ate his breakfast.

‘Aye, that’s what he said – he wants you both there, with the death certificate.’ Clifford slurped down his porridge and wiped his chin with his sleeve.
‘Where’s that little bastard at? I’ve a job for him that’s right up his street.’

‘He’s outside; just you let him be, he’s all right where he’s at.’ Daisy jumped to Tobias’s defence.

‘Aye, well, there’s a delivery coming from Oversby, and Bastard’s going to look after it.’

‘He’s not going anywhere near that old letch – I’ll not let him.’ Daisy stared at Clifford.

‘He’ll be nowhere near him. Oversby’s dug out some fox cubs from their den under Winder Fell and, instead of killing them, he wants someone to raise them. They’ll be easy
prey for the young hounds in the hunt this autumn. Some sport for our hunting friends.’ Clifford grinned.

‘You cruel bastards! Tell him to do his own dirty work – he knows he’s not right. That’s why he’s got you rearing them.’ Kitty picked Clifford’s bowl up
from under his nose and slammed it down in the stoneware sink. ‘That’s not sport, and you know it – they’ll be like pets by the time they are released.’

‘Hold your noise, woman! He’s knocked some of what I owe him off my tab. I’ll do owt to get him off my back.’ Clifford scraped his chair back along the stone flags as he
lost his temper. ‘And you keep your mouth shut. I’ll do what I want with the bastard.’ His finger pointed directly at Daisy. ‘You’ve interfered enough, while
I’ve been in my bed, but I’m back now. And don’t think I don’t know about you and that simpering Sam Allen – you’re the talk of Hawes.’

‘It’s nothing to do with you anyway – you don’t own me. I’ve paid my way, and more besides, while you’ve been ill.’ Daisy stood her ground. There was no
way Clifford was going to go back to his bullying ways with her; he owed her his life.

‘Why you . . . ’ Clifford lifted his hand, stopping it an inch from Daisy’s face.

‘Go on then. That’ll look good at the solicitor’s.’ Daisy glared at him without flinching. He was a bully, nothing more, and she was not going to be the dumbstruck,
shaking wreck that he wanted her to be.

‘So your father knows about me?’ Daisy walked by Sam’s side. They’d become close friends over the spring months and she found him easy to talk to.

‘Aye, he tackled me in the shop on Sunday. You could say we had words.’ Sam went quiet.

‘Let me guess: he said I wasn’t good enough for you, that you knew nothing about me and that I was only after your brass?’ Daisy sat down next to the trickling stream, and
picked and smelled a kingcup that was growing next to the bubbling beck.

Sam looked at Daisy. ‘Summat like that.’

‘It’s only what my father would have said to me, if it had been the other way round. Besides, everybody knows everybody’s business; and what they don’t know, they make
up. I’m the selfish sister who left her parents, and only came back when one was dead and the other as near as damn it.’ Daisy dropped the kingcup and wiped her eyes.

‘I’m sorry about your father – it must be hard.’ Sam squeezed her hand.

‘You know, I thought I wouldn’t be bothered, but the more I think about him, the more I realize how much I loved him. With my mother it was different, for she always favoured my
sister. But until I got older, I was always my father’s favourite.’

‘You did right to leave, Daisy. It wasn’t your fault that you fell out, I’m sure he realized in the end.’ Sam put his arm around her and held her tight. He wiped away the
tear that ran down her cheek and looked into her hazel eyes. Dare he kiss her? He’d never tried to kiss her before. He reached down, closed his eyes and kissed her firmly on the lips, and
then kissed her again and again. Daisy pushed him back gently, smiling. ‘Sam, are you sure? This is beginning to be more than a friendship.’ She had never felt this way before. Yes,
there had been Jim; but this love was being returned, and this love had to be solid.

‘I’m sure. I knew the moment you walked into the shop and stood your ground with the local gossips.’ Sam twisted her fine brown hair around his fingers while she looked at
him.

‘All right, but we make it right with your father. I don’t want to come between you two.’ Daisy thought of her own family and felt guilty for not telling Sam the whole reason
for her eviction from the family home. He must never know about Clifford and the dead baby. If he did find out, he might think her a loose woman and believe that the gossips in Hawes were right in
their assumptions about her.

‘That’s an easy ’un, lass. Make him a pot of your lemon cheese – convince him that you worked for Mattinson’s. He’s never shut up about it since I told him;
he’s seeing pound signs in front of his eyes.’ Sam lay back and laughed.

‘Here I go again. Men only want me for my cooking skills,’ laughed Daisy.

‘Nay, I want more than that, lass.’ Sam laughed and pulled her down beside him.

‘Sam Allen, what would your father say?’ Daisy smiled.

‘
Remember to ask her for the bloody recipe
. That’s what he’d say.’

‘Firstly, may I give you my condolences on behalf of Winterskill & Winterskill. Your father was always an honourable, proud man, and we were glad to be of service to
him when his days of health were better.’ Henry Winterskill looked at the two sisters and at that rogue, Clifford.

‘Here is the death certificate. He was buried in the Moor’s cemetery on Friday.’ Kitty passed across the certificate to Henry with a shaky hand.

‘Mmm, yes – it all looks in order.’ Henry opened the deceased man’s files. ‘Now, you must understand that your father was not a wealthy man. I believe he’d
given you a healthy dowry before he was taken ill, Kitty, and then he had the expense of your mother’s funeral just before he himself was admitted to the asylum. Then there was his
expense—’

‘How much did the old bugger leave?’ Clifford could wait no longer.

Henry Winterskill coughed. ‘Along with his house at Grisedale and his possessions, he left ten guineas, two shillings and tenpence in hard cash, which will just about cover my
expenses.’

‘Who gets the bloody house? At least we can sell it!’ Clifford was desperate for money – he needed it.

‘Mr Middleton, if you will keep interrupting, I shall have to ask you to leave. This is your wife’s family affairs, not yours.’ Henry leaned over the desk. ‘The property
at Grisedale is left to . . .’

The whole group held their breath as he double-checked the papers.

‘The property is left to Daisy, on the understanding that she gives the grandfather clock and the oak dresser and its contents to her sister, Kitty, if Daisy is in agreement.’ Henry
smiled at the ashen-faced woman.

‘Nooo! The bloody old bastard! What’s he done that for, when he knew I needed the bloody money? It’s me who’s looked after his bloody daughter all these years.’
Clifford lashed out with his walking stick, knocking the small side-table over in the immaculate office. ‘The bastard!’ He swore and stamped around the office, his stick hitting the
side of his leg in anger.

‘Sir, I don’t like your manner. This is a will-reading and your temper does not befit the event.’ Henry spoke sternly to the fuming Clifford, before giving his attention to
Daisy.

‘Congratulations, Daisy! I can give you the keys to the property.’ He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a bunch of keys that Daisy recognized from her childhood, and passed
them to her.

She took them with a shaking hand, speechless that her father had left the old home to her. He did love her after all. Her eyes filled with tears as she handled the keys of her family home, with
visions of her father in all his moods playing in her mind.

‘But what about us? The old bugger’s left us nothing, except some worm-eaten furniture.’ Clifford was furious, while Kitty just wept. She knew she had never been the favourite
– her father had been quite blunt about that.

‘You may not even receive that, if Daisy is not in agreement, may I remind you.’ Henry reached yet again into Tom Fraser’s file. ‘I was also instructed to give you this,
Daisy, on your father’s death – to be opened when you felt the time was right.’ He passed over a folded note, sealed to keep it private.

Daisy held it in her hand, looking at her father’s handwriting on the letter. Her eyes filled with tears. She’d got her home back, and yet she’d never dreamed of having
anything left to her by him.

‘Go on – what are you waiting for? Open the letter. Perhaps he tells you where there’s some money.’ It was Kitty this time, still not believing that she had been left
nothing but some furniture.

Clifford, on the other hand, said nothing. The contents of the letter could bring his life crashing down around him, if he’d been named and shamed.

Daisy looked at the letter and then at the solicitor. ‘Don’t feel pressured, my dear,’ he said. ‘Open it in your own time.’

She sniffed and then, with shaking hands, broke the seal and read the message:

She held it in her shaking hands, her heart breaking. Her father had said he was sorry. That was all she had ever wanted to hear from her parents. All the years of heartache
flooded out of her, as the realization that she possessed her own property and had gained her father’s forgiveness sank in.

The letter dropped to the ground and Clifford snatched it up. He read it quickly and then passed it to Kitty, shaking his head as he handed it to her.

‘Sorry! He’s not half as bloody sorry as we are.’ Clifford grabbed hold of Kitty’s arm and pulled her out of the door and out of the building, leaving Daisy alone in the
solicitor’s room.

Henry smacked his lips together. ‘Your father loved you, Daisy. He wanted to do right by you, for a past wrong. Leave Grouse Hall – your brother-in-law will never change his ways;
even his own father was ashamed at the end of his days of the son he had bred. And, Daisy, think about what your father has left Kitty: the oak dresser and its contents. He was sure you’d
remember what he was referring to.’

Daisy sniffed and rose from her chair. She felt uncomfortable, for she’d obviously been discussed and she was still ashamed of her past.

‘Good luck, and if I can ever be of service, you know where I am. These, by the way, are yours. They are the deeds to your family home, which I believe is called Mill Race.’ He
handed her a square walnut box that had always been kept in her father’s oak desk. Until then, Daisy had always admired the precious box in her father’s desk, but had never known what
was locked inside it.

‘Thank you. I don’t know what to say.’ Daisy smiled a weak smile and clutched the box to her.

‘Go and be happy. That was what your father wanted.’ Henry Winterskill shook her hand and showed her to the door. He felt warm inside – sometimes his job was worth doing.

Daisy lay in her bed. She listened to Tobias sleeping soundly on the mattress she’d placed for him in her room. He’d slept in her room ever since the barn had
caught fire. She knew he was safe there, out of the clutches of Oversby, if not the insults of Clifford throughout the day. If she was to move into Mill Race, what would become of Tobias?
He’d probably be treated like a dog again. But she couldn’t take the lad with her, for he belonged with his father, no matter how badly Tobias would be treated by him.

The silence between Clifford and Kitty as she had climbed into the cart had been unbearable. She knew they had expected to receive money. In fact, the more she thought about the money her father
had left, the more confused she was. He had always had a good head for figures and was never short of money, so leaving just ten guineas to his name made no sense. She tossed and turned, pulling
the covers over her one way and then the other. Why had her father left her a house and her sister nothing, except the dresser and the clock? She remembered Henry Winterskill looking at her as he
talked about the dresser and its contents, making sure she was aware of the contents in particular. But the dresser only held flour and spices – she’d seen her father at it nearly every
day of his life, for it was an essential part of the family home. The furniture would be worthless now, with the length of time the house had been empty, and would be no good to anyone.

After breakfast she’d walk to Mill Race, confront her demons and visit the apple tree beneath which her child lay. That, she presumed, was why her father had left her the family home.
While her mother and father had had Christian burials, her son lay unchristened and unwelcome in heaven, under the apple tree at Grisedale. It was over now – she had to forget it all. It was
time to make a fresh start. She had a home, a good man on her arm, and perhaps she could make a living by supplying Luke Allen with preserves and baking, if she talked to Sam about it. But what
would she do about Tobias? She’d grown fond of the boy, and he of her. It would break his heart to see her leave.