‘You look lovely, Miss Charlotte. Not to worry that you are in mourning – black quite suits you.’ Mrs Cranston stood back on the pegged rug in the kitchen and admired the daughter she had never had.
Charlotte reeled around and grinned like the cat that got the cream, as she adjusted a small silver hair-slide. ‘How many bedrooms do you think Windfell has? And how many servants will he be taking on? What did you think of him, Mary? Is he not truly handsome? I think I’m going to be lost for words when I speak to him.’ For once Charlotte was acting her age, and already she had plans in her head to be lady of the manor.
‘He was indeed handsome, Miss Charlotte. I’m quite envious. You will have to tell us everything when you come back home.’ Mary giggled at her mistress and clapped her hands as Charlotte pulled on her long velvet gloves, adding the final piece to her apparel.
‘Aye, well, you’d better get a move on, as his carriage is here. And it’ll not wait.’ Wesley Booth entered the kitchen and looked at his only child, noting the flutter she was in. ‘Anybody would think you were wedding him, not just having tea.’ He pulled his hanky out of his pocket and blew his nose, his eyes on the brink of tears at the beauty of his beloved daughter. ‘Now behave yourself, don’t act like an idiot and try to impress him, our Lottie.’
Charlotte kissed her father on the cheek and secured the small lace-frilled bag on her arm. ‘I’ll not let you down, Father.’ She gave a parting grin to the two servants as she picked up her skirts and left the three of them watching her. All of them thought this was the day she had upped her game, for the man of her dreams.
‘I have a funny feeling about this, Lucy. I think I might just have opened a can of worms, introducing Joseph Dawson to my lass. His brass would keep her in a good lifestyle, but as I talked to him the other evening, I don’t know if I liked what I heard. I think he could perhaps be a hard man.’ Wesley looked out of the kitchen window, watching the carriage that was carrying his daughter down the rough farm track.
Lucy caught his arm gently. ‘She’s only going for tea. She’s not eloping with him, and Lottie has a mind of her own. She’ll soon find out if he’s not what he seems.’
‘Aye, you’re right, but that lass is all I’ve got, and I’d rather she stopped at home all her life than be unhappy. She means everything to me.’ Wesley sighed.
‘Come here, sit next to the fire. Mary, put that kettle on and make your master a cup of tea. I don’t know, Miss Charlotte goes for her first proper invite out and the house falls apart. It’s going to be a long year, if she does take his eye, God help us all!’ Lucy puffed. ‘I’ve never known such a precious lass.’
Joseph Dawson stood outside the front doors of Windfell Manor. He gazed up at the fluted columns and cast-iron balcony above the entrance to his latest purchase. He silently admitted to himself that he had come a long way, since being a snotty, ragged kid in the back streets of Accrington, begging for a crust from passers-by just to fill his belly. He’d vowed, on the day that a rich merchant had hit him with the back of his hand, after Joseph put his filthy hands on his plush jacket, that he would not remain poor, and that he would play the rich at their own game.
By luck, cunning and good looks, he had managed it. And now he was starting a new life, comfortable in a wealthy lifestyle in the quiet Yorkshire Dales, where nobody knew of his past and where money talked louder than actions. Windfell was part of his dream, a mansion house built by the brother of a silk merchant. What a house that man had built, and now Joseph owned it, along with Ferndale Mill – thanks to his docile, trusting, dear wife. It had been a good day when he had met May, when she had opened her heart to him on the death of her parents, as he had sipped his coffee in the coffee house on Wellington Street. Fate had smiled at him, as May borrowed his handkerchief to wipe away her tears and then looked into his eyes. He could still see those almond-coloured puppy-dog eyes, the ones that – even now – bore into his soul and would make him wake at night, screaming.
He breathed in deeply. There, that was all in the past. It was time to move on. He had a guest coming, and he must not be seen wallowing in things that were now buried and gone. No sooner had he gathered his thoughts than he heard the sound of his coach approaching, turning its way into the gateway of Windfell to come to a standstill a yard away from him. The horses pounded and snorted as their driver dismounted and opened the carriage door to reveal Charlotte. Her head of blonde hair shone, as she politely thanked the driver for the help of his hand in assisting her.
‘Charlotte, so good to see you. I trust the ride was not too uncomfortable?’ Joseph held out his hand and smiled at his guest as she stood on the pebbled driveway and admired his home.
‘It’s beautiful, Joseph. I’ve always looked at this house from the road, but hadn’t realized it was so large! It must be three times the size of my home, and I thought our farmhouse was large. I’m sorry – I’m forgetting my manners. I didn’t even answer your question and say good afternoon, but I truly am in awe of the grandness of your home. The ride was comfortable; it made a pleasant change from my father’s plodding pair of nags. I must tell him to put his hand in his pocket and get a team of horses with some style, instead of practicality.’ Charlotte turned and looked at Joseph, who appeared even more handsome in the cold light of day and blended in with his surroundings perfectly.
‘Yes, the Redmaynes knew how to build a house alright. But let’s not stand here. Come, let me show you the rest of the building. I’m afraid only one of the rooms is furnished as of yet, but my housekeeper has lit the fire in the parlour and has prepared some tea for us, once you’ve looked around my new home.’
Charlotte walked up the entrance steps into the large hall and gasped as she surveyed the huge, sweeping staircase before her. Her eyes surveyed the grandness of the hallway, the beautiful glittering chandelier that was the centrepiece of the ceiling, and the rich tapestries that hung at the windows. Never had she seen such luxury.
Joseph breathed in deeply. The smell of perfume surrounded him as Charlotte brushed past and stood in the centre of his hall. She looked the perfect picture. Even in her mourning dress, she seemed as if she was in her natural setting.
‘It is marvellous, Joseph. Look at the staircase and this hallway. How many rooms do you actually have?’ Charlotte twirled around, filling the room with the smell of violets, and Joseph smiled as he read on her face her impatience to be shown around.
‘Take my arm and I’ll show you round. I can’t quite believe it myself that this is to be my home. Mrs Dodgson, my housekeeper, is grumbling already, thinking how many servants I’m going to need to keep on top of it, once I’ve got all the rooms prepared. Now tell me, I thought this would make a perfect morning room, where I could write all my correspondence. And perhaps, if I take a wife, she could sit and sew in here. The room catches all the light in the morning.’
Joseph opened one of the doors leading out of the hall and revealed a large, spacious room, with windows overlooking the driveway and an Adams fireplace taking pride of place on the centre wall. Elegant cornicing ran all round the ceiling, surrounding yet another chandelier hanging in the centre.
‘This is one of the smaller rooms, but every one of them has these beautiful decorated ceilings. And you get a good view from every room in the house, apart from the kitchen, but even that isn’t bad. The Redmaynes made sure their kitchen was up-to-date in its fixtures. I thought perhaps a warm flock wallpaper in here? What do you think?’ Joseph stood next to a bedazzled Charlotte.
‘Flock – what’s flock?’ Charlotte turned and looked at her host, waiting for an answer.
‘It’s wallpaper with a velvety pattern on it, rather like your gloves, Charlotte.’ Joseph reached out and touched the softness of one of her gloved arms. His hand lingered on her arm as they looked into one another’s eyes.
‘That would be different. I’ve never seen that before.’ Charlotte looked into Joseph’s eyes and found herself lost for words.
He smiled and placed his hand back down by his side. ‘It’s in all the best homes; it seems to be the latest trend. I’ve also asked Gillow’s of Lancaster to show me their latest catalogue of furniture. They are a good company, and local.’
Charlotte gathered her thoughts; her heart had missed a beat when Joseph placed his hand on her arm. ‘Have you some furniture from your old home, over in Accrington? Would it not fit in anywhere?’
‘I’ve left the past behind, Charlotte. It would only remind me of life back there, if I brought it with me.’ Joseph’s face clouded over.
‘I’m sorry I’ve reminded you of bad times, with the death of your wife. I do apologize.’ She bowed her head; Joseph was obviously still in love with his wife.
‘The only thing coming from Accrington is my housekeeper, Mrs Dodgson. She has known me all my life, and looks after me like my own mother. I couldn’t have done any of this without her. My wife’s gone, and I never discuss her death if I can help it.’ He walked over to the window and leaned against the sill, looking down the drive. ‘Sorry, Charlotte.’ He turned and put a smile back on his face. ‘They were trying times – I hope you understand.’
‘Of course I do. I apologize if I upset you.’ She was more upset at thinking she had blotted her copybook when it came to Joseph.
‘No, forgive me, I’m too sensitive. Come, take my arm and view the rest of the house and then we will have some tea. You can meet Mrs Dodgson. She’s an old dragon really, but her bark is worse than her bite and I’d be lost without her. She’s just who I need to run a house like this, when I’m busy at both mills, and I can trust her.’
‘I’m sure she’s delightful. We’d be lost without Mrs Cranston; she knows our needs and runs the house like clockwork. Father would be heartbroken if anything happened to her.’ Charlotte patted Joseph’s hand gently.
‘Servants, aye, more like family – it just shouldn’t happen. They should know their place and we should remember to keep them in it.’ Joseph squeezed Charlotte’s gloved hand and raised it to kiss it.
Charlotte blushed and let her hand linger in his for a brief second. ‘Now, let us look at the rest of the house. I’m getting ready for that tea, and meeting your Mrs Dodgson. She must be quite a character, if she earns your respect.’ Joseph was not letting the grass grow under his feet. Had she read the signs incorrectly or was he totally smitten with her?
‘So, Miss Booth, your father owns Crummock, at Austwick. Is it a large farm?’ Mrs Dodgson poured out the tea in the grand parlour. The room was sparsely furnished, but had a fire blazing in the hearth.
Charlotte looked at the prying housekeeper. She was surprised that Mrs Dodgson didn’t know her place and was so presumptuous, with someone who was obviously above her station. ‘Yes, it is quite large, one of the biggest in the district.’
‘Is it sheep or dairy?’
‘It’s sheep; my father breeds sheep. That’s why he was hoping that Joseph – I mean, Mr Dawson – was going to open a woollen mill, not a cotton mill. As it stands, we will still have to supply the Jacksons at Long Preston with our wool.’ Charlotte felt as if she was being interrogated by the scrawny, tall, dark-haired woman, who had a menacing air about her.
‘That will be all, Mrs Dodgson, thank you.’ Joseph scowled at his servant and shooed her away with his hand.
Mrs Dodgson curtsied sharply, keeping her face plain and without expression. Her chatelaine belt rattled as she walked away, and she stopped briefly at the doorway, before making her way across the hallway.
Joseph leaned over and offered Charlotte a selection of tempting confectionery, which Charlotte found hard to choose from. ‘I do apologize. She can be nosy when she wants to be.’
‘It’s alright; she didn’t ask anything that local folk don’t know. I was just a bit surprised.’ Charlotte bit into a slice of sponge cake, taking care to use the delicate bone-china plate that had also been handed to her.
‘As I say, she is nearly family. Talking about family, have you recovered from losing your grandfather? I did feel for your loss at his funeral. Your father will have inherited Crummock, I presume, along with other assets?’
‘Yes, my father owns Crummock now and has been left quite comfortable. Perhaps not as wealthy as yourself, but he has enough to be happy with. And of course my grandpapa left me a small allowance. I always did love Grandpapa.’ Charlotte bowed her head and stirred her tea, wondering what this actually had to do with Joseph, but she supposed he had to know that her family were not penniless.
‘And who was the young man who rushed to your aid at the funeral?’ Joseph smiled and bit into his slice of sponge while waiting for Charlotte’s reply.
‘Oh! That was Archie – Archie Atkinson. He farms over at Eldroth, at Butterfield Gap. We pretend to wave to each other first thing in the morning, because I can just see his bedroom window across the dale from high out of my window.’ Charlotte laughed.
‘Do you love him? He seemed concerned for your well-being,’ said Joseph.
‘Oh God, no – not in that sense. I’ve just grown up with Archie, and he’s Mrs Cranston’s nephew. My father says Archie couldn’t keep me in shoes. So no, he’s only a friend, and always will be, I hope.’ Charlotte was ashamed to admit that she would have made the Devil her bedfellow, if it led to being asked back to Windfell and the company of Joseph Dawson.
‘Ah, I see. I thought perhaps he was your beau. I didn’t want to come between star-crossed lovers.’ Joseph smiled at the blushing girl. He’d dug deep into her personal life, but he had to be sure of her commitments.
‘Come between us – why would you be doing that, Mr Dawson?’ Charlotte looked teasingly at Joseph. She knew why he’d asked, and she knew where it was leading.
‘Well, I thought afternoon tea together could be a regular thing, Charlotte, if you are in agreement. I think we keep quite good company together.’ He looked across at the blonde beauty and thought that he had chosen well, especially as she had an allowance.
‘That would be more than agreeable, Joseph. I’d look forward to our teas together.’ She could have run around the great parlour, letting out hoots of delight, but instead she remained calm and genteel.
‘Would Friday afternoon suit you? Perhaps we should meet at Mrs Armistead’s on Duke Street in Settle? I’m given to believe she runs a good tea room. Besides, it saves you being cross-examined by Mrs Dodgson, who gets a bit protective of me.’
‘That would be delightful. I’ll look forward to that very much.’ Charlotte couldn’t wait for Friday to come, and going to Mrs Armistead’s was an added bonus. High-tea was such a treat, and Mrs Armistead had the most beautiful fancies; she’d seen them in the window as she walked by.
‘Right, Friday it is. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get Mrs Dodgson to tell my man that you are nearly ready to return home.’ Joseph smiled at his excited guest and walked out of the room.
Charlotte sat back in her chair and looked around the huge parlour. One day this might belong to her; she might be the lady of the manor. Damn it, there was no might about it – she would be the lady of the manor.