An Inconvenient Trilogy Part 44

"One of my brothers is in the Navy," Martha said with pride. "The youngest boy has been apprenticed as a clerk in Liverpool and my eldest brother manages the family estate, although it is a lot smaller than it used to be." Martha was in touch with Thomas regularly, his letters keeping Martha up to date with local news. He had married a genteel lady, who had a small fortune, not enough to make the financial worries disappear completely, but enough to make him able to relax a little.

"Do you have any sisters?" Laura asked.

"Yes, one younger," Martha said. She was disappointed that her sister had never had the opportunity for a season, at least Martha had the one to look back on with happy memories. She loved to dance and very often imagined herself back in the local a.s.sembly Rooms, taking part in a Cotillion or a Quadrille. "She is a governess to a local family, which is helpful to Thomas, as she can go home on her day off and help care for our mother." Poor Susan had been condemned to a life that had little hope of changing. If she was always caring for others, she would never have the opportunity to meet anyone who would consider marrying a girl without fortune.

"I never had a family," Laura said. "It must be nice to know that if you were ever in trouble, they would be there to help."

"It is," Martha responded. It was true that she loved and cherished her family, but how her life could have been different if only her father had not lived life to excess. "Although families can be a burden as well," she added thoughtfully. "Right, this isn't getting anything done, I shall leave you to your book and send a letter to the nurse, preparing her for our call when the time comes."

Martha stood up and left Laura's room. She returned to her own bed chamber pondering over what Laura had said. Perhaps the baby was a way of creating her own family? Although that brought its own problems in itself. She was thoughtful as she wrote the letter to the local nurse and sought Charles out to ensure it was sent out with the other letters of business.

A sort of truce had developed between Martha and Charles. Martha had wanted to maintain the level of animosity that existed between them when they resided at Dunham House, but she found that she could not in her current location. In Dunham House they were mainly apart, both having full jobs to attend to. In Yorkshire though, neither had as much of a demand on their time and so the contact between them was increased. Martha was not usually an antagonistic person, and she did not have the energy or the inclination to carry on a feud.

Charles had noticed the change in his opponent, but had not overly rejoiced in it. He was so afraid of relations returning to how they had been that he was usually on edge around Martha, in case he said, or did something wrong. He did not understand how he had got into this position, he was usually so competent in every aspect of his life, and admittedly he did not have much experience around women. He thought that the problem was that he had been attracted to Martha when he had first met her and had acted like a youth just out of the schoolroom. Instead of flattering her, like any man with sense would have done, he had insulted her. He had let his own insecurity influence his behaviour. His pleasure in shaking her composure was short lived, especially when the consequences were that she developed a real dislike of him. Inwardly, he kicked himself, every time she glowered at him, as only Martha Fairfield could do.

Although he was on edge being in Martha's company, Charles tried to encourage the contact between them both. He arranged for work to be carried out for which he needed the advice or counsel of Martha, just to have an excuse of spending time with her. He could not push her too far, but he was hoping that in time she would see him as a friend, if not more, rather than the ogre that had tormented her until now.

He asked her to go through the letters of application that he had received as a result of his advertis.e.m.e.nts for a steward. He could have asked Mr Lawson, and he would, but he valued Martha's opinion first.

Martha had been surprised at the request. She still stung when she thought about his interference with regards to the employment of a nanny, something that she had not managed to achieve before her trip. She sat in the study with Charles, reading through the letters carefully.

Charles watched the woman before him. The slight frown of concentration and the chewing of her bottom lip, signs of how deeply she was studying. Martha's absorption gave him time to dwell over the impact she had had on him. He had never presumed that he would find a life partner, working for a gentleman, a single gentleman, would not necessarily put ladies in his path and he had little enough time off to pursue them himself. So, he had resigned himself to the fact that he would remain unmarried. He was not too upset, he enjoyed his employment, liking his master and then his mistress, many men in his position did not have the freedom, or the close relationship that he enjoyed.

Martha Fairfield had disturbed him. She had come into his life, so calm and composed, always the voice of reason. She was handsome, rather than pretty, her features strong and plain, but not unattractive. It was as if her features expressed the inner person, calm, capable and no nonsense. She had rocked his composure and resurrected his insecurities.

So, for the first time in Charles' life, he had been interested in a woman. He had wanted to see what lay underneath that calm exterior and in his inexperienced befuddlement, he had gone about it in completely the wrong way. He had tried to antagonise her, not expecting the response he got. He should have known that the no-nonsense approach meant that she would deal with him in the same way, but he had also underestimated the way she had developed a dislike for him.

The top level of staff in any household usually worked together. They were in the position of being in the middle of the family of the house and the rest of the staff; not quite family, but not quite staff. A bond usually existed that made the in-between state more bearable, but because of Charles's foolishness, he had created a division.

Only once had she turned to him. When she had thought Lady Dunham was in danger, she had kept control until she had seen him and then had burst into tears. Charles had been shaken, her behaviour had been so out of the ordinary. He had asked her to trust in him and she had told him that she did, she had clung to him as if only he could rescue her. It had made him feel that he could achieve anything.

That had been the day, when everything was over, that he had realised that he was in love with Martha Fairfield. It was also the day that he realised how foolish he had been and how hopeless his case was. He had decided to try and help her, but the reality was that no matter how he tried, Martha misinterpreted his actions and the tension remained.

Martha stirred herself. "You obviously have your own opinions on these letters," she said a little stiffly, always wary that she would receive criticism from her comments. "But there doesn't appear to be anyone who would be suitable."

Charles smiled in encouragement, "That is what I thought, they are either applying for the job to gain a little experience and be off, or want it because they think it will be an easy role. I don't want to encourage someone who will ultimately neglect the estate."

"No, although Elizabeth will rarely visit now, this estate is very close to her heart, particularly because it was her first real home after her father's death," Martha agreed.

"I know, but that doesn't make these letters any more appealing," Charles said with a groan. "I suppose I need to widen the search, but that will take time."

"Are you looking to return to Lord Dunham soon?" Martha asked, surprised of the feeling that she did not want him to leave.

"I shall write to him. He did not specify how long he expected me to stay here, but it would be unreasonable to presume I could stay here indefinitely. We both will be needed at home at some point." He was careful not to sound as if he was making himself out to be more important.

"I know, Laura has said that she is to be confined in around six weeks, I wasn't expecting to be away for so long," Martha admitted.

"I suppose if I write and ask his Lordship for his advice, we can be guided by his response," Charles said with a shrug.

They were interrupted by Smithson, bringing in the post. Charles sorted through it and handed Martha a letter. "One for you," he said, leaning across to her.

Martha smiled, "It will be from Thomas, although he did write earlier in the week," she responded. Her letters from her brother were as regular as the sun rose every morning, the brother and sister may be hundreds of miles apart, but they were as close as ever.

She opened the letter and began to read, while Charles continued to open the other letters. Charles felt, rather than heard the change in Martha, her posture went stiff and the colour drained from her face.

"Martha?" he asked quietly.

It took Martha a few seconds before she realised that Charles had spoken. She looked at him, but did not really see him, or the concern on his face. She stood on shaky legs and turned to the door. "Please excuse me Charles, I need to attend to something in my bed chamber."

"Martha, is anything wrong? Can I help?" Charles asked, knowing full well that there was something very wrong.

"Oh no, no, just a letter," Martha said quietly, not turning to meet his gaze. "Please excuse me."

Chapter 13.

Charles sat at the desk for some time, pondering about what to do. Martha had obviously received some news from home which had shaken her, but it was none of his business. He had offered to help and she had turned from him, he should just forget it and get on with his work, he argued with himself. He needed to send the letter to Lord Dunham after all.

He took out a piece of parchment and started to write. The introduction had barely been written, before he placed his quill on the ink stand and pushed back his chair with a sigh. She was upset, he could not leave her alone.

Martha heard the gentle knocking and knew who it was. She had sat at her dressing table with her money box set before her. It travelled everywhere with her, making her feel secure. Wherever she was, she had her retirement fund with her, no disaster would separate the two. Not until today, anyway.

She moved to the sofa placed at the bottom of the bed and sat on it, pretending to read the letter, but in her upset state, not realising that she still had some of the money grasped in her hand. The knock came again.

"Come in," she said, but her voice seemed unlike her own, detached almost.

Charles opened the door and walked into her bed chamber. A unique occurrence and not one that either would want becoming known by any other member of staff. Once Charles had stepped into the room he closed the door firmly behind him.

"Forgive my intruding Martha, but you were upset," he said walking across to her and sitting next to her without waiting for an invitation. "Something is amiss at your home? Are your family well?"

Martha looked at Charles, his brow was furrowed with nothing but concern, why would he be concerned when he did not like her? Her thoughts seemed to jumble as she tried to adjust herself to the change she was facing. "I..." she started, but then faltered.

Charles reached out and took her hand, then looked down in surprise at the money that she was gripping as if her life depended on it. He was certain that the money had not arrived in the letter, no money had fallen out when she had opened it. "Martha, tell me," he urged.

"Thomas writes, my brother....," she faltered again, before taking a steadying breath. "My youngest brother, has left his apprenticeship and joined a ship. He is currently somewhere between Liverpool and China. That is what Thomas thinks at any rate, he has made some enquiries at the dockside, but he cannot be totally sure. Young boys tend to look alike don't they?" Martha looked down at her hands. How long had it been since she had seen her brother, the baby of the family? In her memory he was still a little boy who was so sweet and obliging, how could he do something so foolish?

Charles squeezed her hands gently. "Surely it is not too bad? He is still in employment, he may make some money on the journey." Very often a portion of the ship's goods would be given to the sailors who had contributed to a safe, successful voyage, if he was lucky the boy may come back with a reasonable bounty.

"I-it's not that," Martha responded, regretting that she had opened the letter in front of Charles. She could not hide the real cause of her distress.

"Go on," Charles urged.

"The man who had agreed to the apprenticeship had not insisted on the payment up front, but is now demanding it, in addition to the money he has spent on my brother over the time he has been in his service. He is saying that it will cost him dearly because he has to start looking all over again for a replacement," she said, hanging her head with embarra.s.sment at the poor behaviour of one of her relations.

Charles was well aware of the money that families had to pay in order that an apprenticeship take place, it was common practice. "Your elder brother must have known that he would have to pay at some point in the future," he said, still not understanding why Martha was so upset.

"Yes, but he has not got the money now. He says that although things are steady with the estate, what is left of it, mother has needed the apothecary many times recently and his reserves are depleted. He has no money to settle the account," Martha said.

"How much is he asking for from you?" Charles asked, realisation dawning on the request that the letter must contain.

"Two hundred pounds, or as near as I can give him," Martha said with a sob, saying the words out loud, making the reality of the request sink in and reducing her ability to hold back her emotions.

"Two hundred pounds!" Charles gasped. "Where on earth does he think that you could get that sort of money from?" That would be years of wages, even if she had spent nothing in the interim.

A laugh escaped Martha's lips, but it was a bitter one. "I had a legacy left me a few years ago and I saved half of it and I have been saving for my retirement since I started working. I had a.s.sured Thomas that I would not be a burden on him or on any of the others when I could no longer work. Thomas knows I have some money set aside."

"How much have you saved?" Charles asked, his heart sinking.

"Almost a hundred and fifty pounds," Martha acknowledged. "I am over thirty now, I was hoping that when the time came for me to leave Elizabeth I would not need to work for anyone else and could rent a cottage on the estate. Now it seems I will be working until my dying day. I will never save enough now. I would not have saved so much only for the legacy." The last words were finished with a sob and the tears that she had been fighting, finally came.

Charles reacted as he had the last time he had seen her cry and enveloped her in his arms. He cursed her brother for asking her to give up her legacy and savings. How could he ask a single woman to give away the only security she had?

Charles held Martha close and let her cry. He understood she was crying for more than her brother running away to sea and he did not condemn her for it. An unmarried woman had limited opportunities, a poor and aging one had even less.

As her sobs subsided, he gently rubbed her back, trying in his own way to soothe her. Eventually she stopped crying, but Charles continued to hold her. His feeling had gone from wanting to comfort her to something else, he was enjoying holding Martha in his arms and appreciating the feeling it gave him, as if she fitted perfectly.

Martha pulled away slightly, her cheeks were pink from crying and the fact that she had been leaning on Charles' chest, and although her cheek had been resting on his frock coat, she could still feel the movement of his body as he breathed. She had felt supported, comfort and security while being held, but it could not last, so she forced herself to move.

"I must send the money, there is no point in delaying," she said, her practical nature coming to the fore.

"Lord and Lady Dunham are not going to cast you off," Charles rea.s.sured her. "Look at the trouble they are taking for Mr Lawson."

"You are right, but I just wanted not to have to rely on someone else when the time came. Do you understand what I mean?" Martha asked.

"Yes, I do, but there are people who care about you and will want to help," Charles said, his arms had moved from her back to the top of her arms and he applied gentle pressure in rea.s.surance. "Let me help."

"You?" Martha asked in surprise, pulling further away. "Why would you want to help?"

Charles panicked a little at Martha's movement. He was not ready to let her go just yet, he had no idea if he would ever hold her again. So he acted out of instinct rather than rational thought, and leaned in and kissed her.

Martha did not respond immediately, she was stunned, but Charles wrapped his arms around her once more and instead of resisting, as she should have done, she leant into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Charles had only needed a little encouragement to know that he had not made a mistake, Martha's reaction was beyond what he had hoped for and he groaned and pulled her closer. He could tell that she was unused to being kissed, but his was gentle and encouraging, pushing her a little every time she responded to him.

Martha's head was swimming. Only a few moments ago she had been crying, feeling desolate at her future, and now her heart was pounding as her mouth was being, teased and explored by Charles. She pulled at his hair, not caring if she was too rough and grasped his collar, dragging him closer, if it was possible. She became bolder when she realised that her actions caused him to moan and the kiss to increase in its intensity.

They stayed entwined until Charles leaned back further, he needed to feel her body against his. He pulled her across him as he lay back on the sofa, her skirts falling over his legs in a muslin curtain.

The action stirred Martha's senses, she was lying across a man, like some sort of wanton woman, she pulled away from him. "No," she said, hoa.r.s.ely, breathing in large gasps of air to try and steady herself.

"Yes," Charles responded, his voice gruff, pulling her back towards him.

Martha put her hands against his chest and pushed him away, "No, this is wrong," she said firmly.

"It doesn't have to be," Charles said, sitting up, so he was closer to her. "Martha marry me, let me be the one to take care of you now and in the future. Marry me."

Martha stilled and looked at Charles, he looked as flushed as she felt and was breathing as deeply and erratically. "What did you say?" she asked, but her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Charles saw the change and once again panicked. "I asked you to marry me, it would solve everything, I could look after you, you wouldn't need to worry about your future, I would take care of you," the ever calm Charles babbled like an idiot.

"But we dislike each other," Martha said, matter of fact.

Charles flopped back against the sofa, half in exasperation, half in defeat. "That wasn't a show of dislike," he said, referring to what had just happened.

"That was a heat of the moment lapse," Martha said standing. "I think it would be best if you leave now and we forget what has happened here today."

Charles stood, trying to keep his own emotions in place. He pulled down his waistcoat and frock coat and looked Martha fully in the face. "I meant every word and action that has happened today and I won't be forgetting it in a hurry. I am presuming this is a refusal, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

The door closed behind Charles before Martha could think of a suitable retort. She walked over to the desk and leaned on it for support, while she tried to calm her breathing. How had the day turned from being asked to give up her future and then offered an alternative, one that she had never allowed herself to dream of?

Married to Charles Anderton. Martha Anderton. The names suited one another. She shook herself, it was obviously said in the heat of the moment. He could never have seriously considered marriage to her, he disliked her, she disliked him. She closed her eyes in frustration, if she disliked him so much, why had she felt bereft once the feel of his lips on hers had faded? Why would the memory of that kiss haunt her every thought? She was a romantic fool and should know better.

Martha Fairfield looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head. She had come here to do a job and that is what she would do, the events of the morning would never be mentioned, or referred to, or thought of, again.

Chapter 14.

Charles kept out of the way of Martha as much as was possible over the coming days, although he could not avoid her as much as he would have liked to have done. It stung. Her rejection had hurt him more than he would have ever predicted.

He prided himself on being sensible, calm, collected, and yet, whenever Martha Fairfield was in his presence, he seemed to turn into a gabbling fool. He had asked her to marry him. The problem was, rather than descending into panic when the realisation of what he had done had sunk in, and being relieved that she had all but laughed in his face, he was hurt. She was the only woman he had ever asked to marry him, or was likely to, and he had received a categorical rejection.

He was absolutely convinced that she liked him though. No one could respond to a kiss in such a pa.s.sionate way and feel indifferent. The memory of her pulling his hair and tugging him towards her, he would not forget in a hurry. She had been inexperienced, but eager in the way she responded to his kiss. Somehow the fact that she was untouched by anyone, made him feel even more for her than he already did.

She obviously had some feelings for him, but she was so controlled, she had stopped things just when they were about to get interesting. He could still almost feel the material of her dress along his leg. If only he had not hurried her, of course she would pull away at that point. She was a genteel lady and he had moved things too fast. He had forgotten that she was of a higher cla.s.s than him and he cursed himself. Of course she was better than him and he had tried to lower her to his level by dragging her onto the seat.

To be told that she disliked him after they had kissed, had stung his pride. How she could say something so cutting, when he had been barely able to breathe, never mind think, but she had brought him down to size. It was clear that although she was facing a future that was bleak, his proposal was repugnant to her. She obviously felt that he was no good for her. He would just have to be a man and treat her as coolly as she treated him, and if he could forget that kiss, he would be able to.

Martha was determined that there would be no opportunity for any more foolishness, but as time went on, she did start to feel guilty about her actions. Charles had treated her with nothing but concern and kindness, and she had been offensive. She inwardly cringed at the very thought of the way she had reacted. She had been brought up to behave with more consideration and respect for others, and was secretly ashamed of her behaviour.

Always the practical one, she decided that things had to be cleared between them and so waited until the bad weather had eased and Alfred and Laura had returned to their excursions outside. She did not want anyone to interrupt when she was begging forgiveness.

Charles looked surprised when Martha entered the study and closed the door. He did not have time to utter any sarcastic comment, as she approached the desk and stood before it, like a naughty school girl.

"I need to speak to you Charles, about last week," Martha started, not quite meeting his gaze.

"Which part of last week?" Charles asked, suppressing a smile, when his words caused a panicked glance, and then a flush in Martha's cheeks.