Barbara Bradford - A Woman of Substance

Sometimes Emma had gone up to the Top of the World and sat alone on her flat rock under the shadow of Ramsden Crags, daydreaming, lost in a multitude of thoughts. She never went into the cave without Edwin. Before he had departed for his holidays he had instructed her firmly never to attempt to move the rock without him, for it would be dangerous and she might easily hurt herself.

But now he was back and her loneliness had already been dispelled. Earlier that morning, when they had bumped into each other in the upstairs corridor, they had whisperingly arranged to meet in the rose garden for a few minutes before he went riding. She could hardly bear the agony of waiting for him. She fervently wished he would hurry. Her basket was filled to overflowing; also, Cook would be wondering where she was. A few moments later Emma heard his footsteps crunching on the gravel and looked up expectantly. She felt a quickening of her heart, unreasonably so, and a rush of happiness surged through her, bringing that vibrant light into her eyes, a smile to her face.

Edwin strode swiftly down the path with a nonchalant and carefree air, blithely swinging his crop in his hand. He was wearing a white shirt with a yellow silk ascot at his throat, buff breeches, and highly polished brown riding boots that glinted in the sunlight. He looked taller, broader, more grown-up than ever. How handsome he is, thought Emma, and her throat tightened. She felt a sharp stab of pain, and she recognized it fully as the bittersweet pain of love.

Edwin’s face lit up when he saw her and he increased his pace. Then he was standing over her, smiling widely, his greyish-blue eyes reflecting his own obvious delight at being back again. Emma thought her heart would burst. He stretched out his hand and helped her up, walking her to a corner out of view of the house. He seized her in his arms and kissed her passionately, running a suntanned hand down her back caressingly. Then he stood away, his strong fingers gripping her shoulders, and he gazed deeply into her face as if seeing it for the first time. By God, she is a beauty, he thought, excitement trickling through him.

‘I’ve missed you, Emma,’ he said vehemently, his ardour apparent on his face. ‘I couldn’t wait to get back. Did you miss me?’

‘Oh, yes, Edwin, I did. It was lonely with yer gone.’ She smiled. ‘Did yer enjoy yer holidays, then?’

He laughed and made a face. ‘Well, yes, in some ways. But it was all a little too social for my liking. Aunt Olivia had tons of other guests coming and going interminably. She also gave two dances, which I could well have done without. Those silly debutante daughters of her friends do so get on my nerves.’

Emma held herself very still under his hands gripping her so tightly. Jealousy flicked into her mind at the thought of Edwin holding other girls in his arms, if only to dance with them. She found herself quite unable to speak.

Observing the pained look which crossed her face, he chided himself for his thoughtlessness, and then he grinned engagingly. ‘I much prefer to be with you, Emma, my sweet one. Surely you know that.’ He relaxed his hold. ‘Let’s go and sit over there,’ he suggested, nodding to the old rustic seat made of knotted branches resting under a shady tree in a dim far corner of the garden.

He carried the flower basket for her, and when they were settled on the seat he said, ‘Can we meet at the Top of the World on Sunday for a picnic? It is your weekend off, is it not?’

‘Yes, it’s me weekend off,’ said Emma.

‘You will meet me then, won’t you?’

Emma looked at him, her eyes serious as they searched his face, now so dear to her and rarely out of her mind’s eye, day or night.

Edwin smiled lovingly. ‘You look very pensive all of a sudden. Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind about our trysts? It can’t be that you don’t love me any more.’

‘Of course I love yer,’ she exclaimed. ‘Edwin-’ Emma hesitated and swallowed. The words she knew must be said were lodged in her throat.

Edwin touched her shoulder fondly. ‘Well then, why are you hesitating about meeting me?’

‘Edwin, I’m going ter have a baby!’ she blurted out harshly, not knowing how to tell him more gently, no longer able to carry this worrisome burden alone.

As Emma spoke her eyes did not leave his face, and she clasped her hands together to stop them trembling. In that tortuous moment of silence that hung between them like a lead curtain Emma’s heart dropped. She was acutely aware of the stiffening of Edwin’s body, the imperceptible drawing away from her, the look of disbelief that wiped the smile off his face, the dawning horror that followed swiftly and settled there, a frozen mask that bespoke his shock.

‘Oh, my God!’ he cried, slumping back against the bench. He gaped at her, his face now pale and twitching. Edwin felt as if he had been dealt a violent and crippling blow in his stomach. He was utterly devastated. He vainly endeavoured to still the shaking sensation that seized him, but with little success. At last he managed to speak. ‘Emma, are you absolutely certain of this?’

She bit her lip, eyeing him, trying to assess his attitude. ‘Yes, Edwin, I am.’

‘Jesus bloody Christ!’ he cried, forgetting his manners in his anxiety. He gazed into space, a spasm working on his face. A smothering feeling enveloped him. He thought he couldn’t breathe. Eventually he turned and stared at her, his eyes wide with apprehension. ‘My father will kill me,’ he gasped, envisioning his father’s towering wrath.

Emma threw him a swift and knowing glance. ‘If yours doesn’t, mine will,’ she informed him bluntly, her voice low and hoarse.

‘What in God’s name are you going to do?’ he asked.

‘Don’t yer mean what are we going ter do, Edwin?’ This was asked mildly enough, but Emma was conscious of the alarm rising up into her already constricted throat. Not for one moment in the past few weeks had she anticipated such a reaction from him. She had known he would be disturbed and upset and worried at her news, just as she was herself. But she had not thought he would act as if this was her responsibility, and hers alone. It frightened her.

‘Yes, of course I mean we, ’ he answered hastily. ‘Emma, are you really and truly certain? Couldn’t you just be-be-late?’

‘No, Edwin. I’m positive.’

Edwin was silent, his mind floundering, a thousand thoughts pounding in his head. He had never contemplated this eventuality in his entrancement with her beauty, and the flaring passion she aroused in him. What an imbecile he had been not to have considered such an inevitability, the most obvious natural consequence of their lovemaking.

Emma broke the silence. ‘ Please , Edwin, talk ter me! Help me! I’ve been ever so worried while yer’ve been away, knowing about the baby, not knowing what ter do. I couldn’t tell anybody else. It’s been summat terrible for me, it really has, waiting for yer ter get back ter Fairley.’

Edwin racked his brains. Eventually he cleared his throat, somewhat nervously. His voice was shaky. ‘Look, Emma, I’ve heard there are doctors-doctors who take care of such matters, in the early stages of pregnancy, for a goodly sum of money. Maybe there would be one willing to do it. In Leeds or Bradford. Perhaps we can find one. I could sell my watch.’

Emma was flabbergasted. His words were like daggers plunging into her flesh. Their very cold-bloodedness was so shocking and repugnant to her she went cold all over. ‘Go ter some quack!’ she cried angrily and with increasing amazement, her eyes widening. ‘Some charlatan who’ll butcher me up with a knife and maybe kill me! Is that what yer suggesting, Edwin?’ Her eyes were now immensely cold and darkly green and watchful. She could hardly believe he had uttered those dreadful words.