had brought a bottle of sherry. ‘To toast your health, dear ladies, and your good fortune.’
They each drank a glass of sherry before luncheon and afterwards, as Harriet and Thomas, who had offered his help, cleared away and washed the dishes, Elizabeth and Mr Thacker sat by the fire and drank another.
‘You are looking a little peaky, my dear. You could do with a brisk walk to bring some roses to your cheeks. I would offer,’ he said with a fleeting smile, ‘but I fear I cannot walk far.’
‘Harriet and I have said we will take a walk by the river tomorrow. We like to do that on Boxing Day. But for the moment I am quite content to sit by the fire and enjoy your company.’
She paused. He was a good friend to her and Harriet, they had known him a long time. ‘We had a visitor on Christmas Eve,’ she told him. ‘Edward Scott. He brought bad news, as he so often does when he visits.’
Mr Thacker looked across at her and his eyes were suddenly wary. ‘What news?’
‘Of his wife, the last Mrs Scott. It seems she drowned in the River Ouse.’
‘He is very careless with his wives,’ he murmured. ‘That makes three who have not lived to a ripe old age.’
A look of anguish crossed Elizabeth’s face and he added quickly, ‘You will not find peace, Elizabeth, if you do not accept that your mother is dead.’
‘I can’t,’ she whispered. ‘Not until there is proof.’
‘She would have contacted you, or me, or someone she could trust if she were still alive. She would not have deliberately left you not knowing.’ He sighed. ‘I blame myself constantly, even after all these years. I was the one who introduced her to Scott.’
‘You were not to know.’ She reached out and touched his hand. ‘It’s Christmas,’ she said, trying to smile. ‘We must not be unhappy, Mama would not want that. We must look forward to another, better year.’
In the tiny kitchen as Harriet and Thomas washed and dried the dishes, she told him of Edward Scott’s visit. ‘He has upset Elizabeth,’she said. ‘I think sometimes that he comes purposely to remind us of what happened, so that we can never forget or put it behind us.’
Thomas, who was very tall and thin, bent low and kissed her cheek. ‘If only we could marry, Harriet, I would help you forget. But then you hardly remember, do you?’
She put down her drying cloth. ‘I remember nothing of what happened, only what Elizabeth has told me,’ she said quietly. ‘But I remember the scent of my mother and the softness of her face when she bent over my cot.’
‘Father says she was the kindest, sweetest woman he has ever met, after my own mother. He also said that he would have asked her to marry him except that he was penniless, and she had a legacy left to her from your father. My father was too proud to ask her because of that,’ he said. ‘But Scott wasn’t and he got it all in the end.’
‘Poor Mama,’ she said softly. ‘Poor, poor Mama.’
Chapter Eleven
‘ BRR, IT’S SO cold!’ Jack turned up his coat collar against the rain and shivered. He and Ralph were watching the progress of their ship into Portsmouth harbour. On the quayside they could see knots of people, seamen, porters and others waiting to greet the passengers as the ship eased its way in.
Ralph agreed. ‘It’s supposed to be spring,’ he said. ‘But it’s so grey. Where’s the sun?’
‘Mr Hawkins. Mr Hawkins! Oh, isn’t it so exciting?’ Mrs Boyle joined them. ‘We’re all packed. Phoebe is just fastening up our trunks.’
‘It’s so cold, Mrs Boyle,’ Ralph complained. ‘I hope you won’t catch a chill.’
Mrs Boyle was dressed in a plain grey fitted gown with long sleeves and short train, and over it a matching wool jacket. ‘Indeed I won’t,’ she smiled. ‘I have my old mantle which I took out with me to Australia. I never wore it there, but I shall wear it now. My daughter laughs at me because it is so old-fashioned, but I shallbe glad of it on
They each drank a glass of sherry before luncheon and afterwards, as Harriet and Thomas, who had offered his help, cleared away and washed the dishes, Elizabeth and Mr Thacker sat by the fire and drank another.
‘You are looking a little peaky, my dear. You could do with a brisk walk to bring some roses to your cheeks. I would offer,’ he said with a fleeting smile, ‘but I fear I cannot walk far.’
‘Harriet and I have said we will take a walk by the river tomorrow. We like to do that on Boxing Day. But for the moment I am quite content to sit by the fire and enjoy your company.’
She paused. He was a good friend to her and Harriet, they had known him a long time. ‘We had a visitor on Christmas Eve,’ she told him. ‘Edward Scott. He brought bad news, as he so often does when he visits.’
Mr Thacker looked across at her and his eyes were suddenly wary. ‘What news?’
‘Of his wife, the last Mrs Scott. It seems she drowned in the River Ouse.’
‘He is very careless with his wives,’ he murmured. ‘That makes three who have not lived to a ripe old age.’
A look of anguish crossed Elizabeth’s face and he added quickly, ‘You will not find peace, Elizabeth, if you do not accept that your mother is dead.’
‘I can’t,’ she whispered. ‘Not until there is proof.’
‘She would have contacted you, or me, or someone she could trust if she were still alive. She would not have deliberately left you not knowing.’ He sighed. ‘I blame myself constantly, even after all these years. I was the one who introduced her to Scott.’
‘You were not to know.’ She reached out and touched his hand. ‘It’s Christmas,’ she said, trying to smile. ‘We must not be unhappy, Mama would not want that. We must look forward to another, better year.’
In the tiny kitchen as Harriet and Thomas washed and dried the dishes, she told him of Edward Scott’s visit. ‘He has upset Elizabeth,’she said. ‘I think sometimes that he comes purposely to remind us of what happened, so that we can never forget or put it behind us.’
Thomas, who was very tall and thin, bent low and kissed her cheek. ‘If only we could marry, Harriet, I would help you forget. But then you hardly remember, do you?’
She put down her drying cloth. ‘I remember nothing of what happened, only what Elizabeth has told me,’ she said quietly. ‘But I remember the scent of my mother and the softness of her face when she bent over my cot.’
‘Father says she was the kindest, sweetest woman he has ever met, after my own mother. He also said that he would have asked her to marry him except that he was penniless, and she had a legacy left to her from your father. My father was too proud to ask her because of that,’ he said. ‘But Scott wasn’t and he got it all in the end.’
‘Poor Mama,’ she said softly. ‘Poor, poor Mama.’
Chapter Eleven
‘ BRR, IT’S SO cold!’ Jack turned up his coat collar against the rain and shivered. He and Ralph were watching the progress of their ship into Portsmouth harbour. On the quayside they could see knots of people, seamen, porters and others waiting to greet the passengers as the ship eased its way in.
Ralph agreed. ‘It’s supposed to be spring,’ he said. ‘But it’s so grey. Where’s the sun?’
‘Mr Hawkins. Mr Hawkins! Oh, isn’t it so exciting?’ Mrs Boyle joined them. ‘We’re all packed. Phoebe is just fastening up our trunks.’
‘It’s so cold, Mrs Boyle,’ Ralph complained. ‘I hope you won’t catch a chill.’
Mrs Boyle was dressed in a plain grey fitted gown with long sleeves and short train, and over it a matching wool jacket. ‘Indeed I won’t,’ she smiled. ‘I have my old mantle which I took out with me to Australia. I never wore it there, but I shall wear it now. My daughter laughs at me because it is so old-fashioned, but I shallbe glad of it on
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