Stay with Me (27 page)

She read it over and, satisfied, folded and sealed it. Next she wrote:

Sleep did not come easily and when Lena woke she did so in a panic - she was late. She flung back the bedclothes and slid out of bed. It was only then that she realised it was barely light and she had not after all overslept. Nevertheless she hurried with her preparations to be away before anyone else was up.

Finally, she took one last look around her room. Sadness threatened to descend, but she shook it away, picked up her luggage and quietly crept down the stairs. She placed her valises near the front door, went to the dining-room and left the letter for James on the table there. After putting on her cloak and bonnet, she left the house.

She walked briskly to Alistair's home, pushed the letter for him through the letterbox, and resisted any recollections of happier times spent here. At the end of New Buildings she stopped and looked back. A life lived, the past gone. Mother and Father . . . what would they have thought? But had they lived, had that bridge not fallen, what might her present life have been? She shivered. The reaction convinced her she had chosen the right course.

Reaching the Angel, she saw a carriage drawn up outside attended by a stable boy. Inside the inn, she found Peter awaiting her.

‘Lena!' He was by her side at once, his face alight with pleasure.

The landlord signalled to a boy who had been standing by. He came forward, took Lena's luggage and hurried from the inn.

‘Mine's already stowed,' Peter informed her, ‘so we can be on our way.' He turned to the inn-keeper. ‘Thank you, landlord.'

‘Thank you, sir. Have a safe journey.'

Peter took Lena's arm and led her outside to the carriage. He checked the luggage was safely stored, tipped the two boys and climbed in beside her.

‘Are you comfortable?'

She nodded. The moment was upon her; she felt her whole world was turning topsy-turvy and the pressure in her chest became almost overwhelming. She gripped her hands tightly together, trying to draw strength from somewhere.

Peter glanced at her, and when he saw her strained features, fear gripped him. ‘Are you sure about this?' he asked with tender concern.

Lena turned her eyes to him, locked her gaze on his and filled her voice with resolution as she said, ‘I'm sure!'

 

The MacBrides were already sitting at the dining table when James came in for his breakfast.

‘Good morning, James.' Martin MacBride's breezy greeting resounded round the dining-room.

‘Good morning, all,' he said brightly as he went to the sideboard to get a plate.

‘We've beaten Lena,' said his aunt. ‘Still, extra sleep will do her good after yesterday's excitement.'

‘A splendid day, yesterday, splendid,' his uncle went on.

‘It was indeed,' James replied, helping himself to some porridge. He went to his place, saw the letter and recognised his sister's writing. Why had she written to him? Mystified, he broke the seal and unfolded the paper. He read the words quickly and then, having taken in the gist of the message, read it again in utter disbelief.

‘James! What is the matter?' his aunt asked in alarm when she saw his face drain of colour.

‘Lena has left for Hull with Peter Hustwick. They intend to marry.' His hoarse voice was filled with incredulity.

A stunned silence descended on the room.

‘What?' The first word exploded from Doctor MacBride. ‘We must bring her back.' He started to rise but was stopped by his wife. ‘Martin, we don't know how long she's been gone, nor which way they will go.'

‘James, you must have some idea?' urged his uncle.

‘They could have taken any of several routes.'

‘We must be off to Hull at once then and bring her back,' blustered the doctor.

‘Martin, calm yourself,' warned Mary.

‘But we must do something,' he urged.

‘Rushing off in a rage won't do any good. We know they are going to Hull; it's not as if they are trying to hide. James must know how to contact Peter and therefore how he can find Lena.'

Martin's lips tightened with frustration. He wanted action now, but he knew his wife was right. ‘I thought she and Alistair . . . '

‘We all did,' said James.

‘The way's clear for you,' whispered Fiona surreptitiously to her sister.

Avril flushed as, under the table, she dug her sister in the thigh.

‘Forcing her back against her will won't achieve anything,' Mary pointed out. ‘Reasoning with her might, but I doubt it. If Lena has made up her mind, I don't think you will budge her.'

‘I believe you are right, Aunt,' agreed James. ‘I think I may be to blame to some degree for Lena making this decision, though no one can anticipate the dictates of the heart.'

‘How is that?' his uncle demanded. Without waiting for an answer he added, ‘Lena made the decision, not you. You cannot blame yourself for this. And we must do something - make the girl see reason, realise the mistake she is making.'

James gave a shrug of his shoulders. ‘We shall see,' he said quietly.

At that moment all further discussion was interrupted by a loud knocking on the front door.

 

The Nashes were seated around the breakfast table; only Alistair was in introspective mood although outwardly he hid this from the others. His thoughts were fixed on Lena's attitude to his proposal. Why had she wanted more time? Why couldn't she have said yes there and then, and made the day one of double celebration? What exactly had held her back? These thoughts had troubled him all night, especially as he believed she had avoided being alone with him during last night's party.

His thoughts and the gaiety around the table were interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by the appearance of a maid carrying a letter.

‘I found this at the front door, sir,' she said, approaching Alistair.

‘Thank you,' he said, taking the paper. A glance at the inscription told him it was from Lena. But why had she written? Why not call and see him if she wanted to apologise - or to give him her answer? He broke the seal and sent his gaze eagerly over the words, hoping to find the ones he wanted.

‘No!' The half-whispered word drew everybody's attention. ‘Oh, no!'

‘What is it?' asked Georgina tentatively.

He did not speak but pushed the letter to her. She picked it up and read it, her expression becoming more incredulous with every second. Her bewilderment was so intense she could not speak. Albert picked up the paper, and by the time he'd finished reading his face was wreathed in disbelief. Olivia stared from one to the other of her parents and then at her brother.

‘What is it?'

‘Lena has left for Hull with Peter Hustwick, intending to marry him.'

‘I don't believe it!'

‘It is there in black and white.' He indicated the letter and she read it quickly.

‘But you were . . .'

Alistair pushed his chair back and got to his feet, interrupting her. ‘I want to hear if James knew about this.' The anger in his voice did not bode well for his friend if he found the answer to be yes.

As he headed for the door Olivia jumped to her feet.

‘Stay here,' warned her mother.

‘I want to know if James knew too,' she said, and was gone before more could be said.

‘Mr James?' Alistair asked when the Carnforths' maid opened the front door.

‘The dining-room, sir,' she replied, and was almost swept aside as he and Olivia stormed past her.

‘Did you know about this?' demanded Alistair as he flung his letter down in front of James.

‘I got one too,' he replied, holding up the paper.

Alistair's anger subsided and Olivia felt relief sweep over her. If James had known of Lena's betrayal . . .

‘What are we going to do?' Alistair asked.

Dr MacBride was about to voice his own strong opinion but caught his wife's eye. In her expression and almost imperceptible shake of the head he read disapproval of any intervention on his part.

‘You know Lena almost as well as I do. You know she can be headstrong, but no doubt you'll want to try to persuade her to come back?' James asked his friend.

‘I do, even though in her letter she says she is not cut out to be a doctor's wife.'

‘And she tells me how disappointed she is at being excluded by father's Will from taking any prominent role in the firm,' said James. ‘I think she has seen in Peter Hustwick her chance to enter the mercantile world again.'

‘But that's no place for a lady,' stormed Martin.

‘Lena won't see it that way,' replied James. ‘Whether she is truly in love with Peter, infatuated by him, or is merely using him to attain the life she wants, I do not know. Whatever the answer, I don't think we will be able to persuade her to return, but we must try. If you are in agreement, we will leave for Hull tomorrow morning.'

Though he would have preferred to leave immediately, Alistair agreed; he knew his friend was right. He would have to inform Dr Jollif of his intended absence and ask him to take over his partner's scheduled visits.

‘I think we should go now and hire two horses from the Angel,' James suggested.

Arrangements were made so that they could be in the saddle by eight the following morning.

By the time they reached the outskirts of Hull in the late-afternoon, Lena was convinced she was stepping back into her rightful place - the world of ships, trading and far horizons. This was what she had expected and should have had in Whitby. As much as she loved her father and was grateful for the introduction he had given her to that world, could she ever forgive him for passing the running of the business solely to James who, after all, was only his step-son? And though her love for James was strong, could she ever excuse him for carrying out to the letter their father's last unfair decision? She had soon realised that James loved to be in charge and revelled in his power. Well, she would see if he could cope with her rivalry in business, whether he could hang on to something she regarded as rightfully hers.

Even as she was visualising a bright future for herself she was reminded of the present necessity when Peter said, ‘We'll go straight to my cousin's,' and added with a chuckle, ‘she will be surprised.'

‘As no doubt will many people today,' said Lena.

‘I was surprised there was no pursuit,' commented Peter.

‘What? An irate James and Alistair, dragging me off the carriage and forcing me back to Whitby?' Lena laughed as she pictured the scene. ‘No need, Peter, they knew where I was bound.'

‘You wrote that in your letters?'

‘I saw no reason to lie.'

‘Then we can soon expect a visit?'

‘Certainly.'

‘You aren't having any doubts about what you have done, I trust?'

Lena's comforting smile was accompanied by a shake of her head. ‘None, Peter, don't ever think that.'

‘My cousin purchased a house in Anlaby Road, a new area being developed to accommodate Hull's merchants, ship-owners, traders and so on. It is a fine house and came up for sale at just the right moment for Greta, who always moves swiftly once she has made up her mind.'

When he'd halted the horse Peter was quickly out of his seat to help Lena to the ground. He escorted her along the short curving path to a small portico where three steps led up to the front door. Two Tuscan columns supported a simple architrave, frieze and decorated cornice. Apart from providing a covered porch, the whole design lent elegance to the front entrance of an otherwise plain brick villa.

Peter gave a sharp tug on the metal bell-pull and a few moments later the front door swung open.

‘Mr Hustwick,' said a girl of about fifteen, neatly dressed in a maid's black uniform.