The Girl in the Scrapbook Carolyn Ruffles (read an ebook week txt) 📖

Norah looked up in shock and dismay. ‘Not Trojan! I’d willingly forego any number of new dresses but not my horse.’ She turned to her father. ‘Daddy, please don’t say I have to lose Trojan. I’ll make sure that no one else has to look after him from now on so we would only be saving the cost of his feed. Please, Daddy!’

‘Don’t fret, Nolly,’ her father replied. ‘Of course, you can keep him. I know how much he means to you. And I would appreciate you looking after him and perhaps my horse too. Arthur really doesn't have the time for it these days. I need him on the farm – he’s excellent with the plough horses.’

Norah was flooded with relief. ‘Thanks Daddy. I really will try to be more of a help to you. And I mean it about the dresses.’

Adele snorted with disapproval. ‘I think you’re missing the whole point of sacrifice, Norah. It means being prepared to give up something you want to keep, not giving up essential items like dresses which you have no time for anyway. I don’t know how we’re ever going to find you a husband at this rate.’

Wisely, Norah bit back the retort which had sprung to her lips. She had no intention of getting married, at least not until she had been to university and perhaps pursued a career but, as yet, she had not shared this radical notion with her stepmother.

The rest of the mealtime passed uneventfully. After the plates had been cleared away, Adele and Hope withdrew to their sitting room and Norah was afforded a rare moment alone with her father. He had picked up the newspaper and she watched him reading, his face creased in a frown. She really wanted to question him further about his money worries but at the same time she didn't want to trouble him further. In the end, she settled for a topical item of conversation.

‘Did you hear that Amelia Hodge has won a place at Cambridge? Do you remember her? She’s Herbert Hodges’ daughter, just three years older than me. She hopes to become a surgeon, just like Lydia Turner. Isn’t that marvellous?’

‘It certainly is.’ George lifted his head from the newspaper and smiled at her. ‘I’m all for clever women carving out a career for themselves. Ever since they won the vote, more and more are making a name for themselves in their own right, just like you will, my dear. The world is changing and I’m all for giving power to women of good sense.’ Then he sighed. ‘Talking of women of good sense, I realise now Norah that I may have rushed into things a bit too hastily with your stepmother. I think she has a good heart but she certainly doesn’t seem to have much sense, especially where that simpleton daughter of hers is concerned. I thought I was doing the right thing for both of us in marrying her. You had been lacking female companionship but I’m sorry it hasn’t worked out as I’d hoped.’

Norah privately disagreed with her father about Adele’s good heart but, as she always did, sought to reassure him. ‘Don’t apologise, Daddy,’ she said. ‘I know you’ve always done what you thought best for me. Things have been difficult for us both since Mummy died and at least now I have another woman to turn to when I need help with female matters.’ This last comment was not actually true as she had no intention of ever consulting her stepmother on anything. Instead, she'd always turned to Mrs Morris when she needed advice of a feminine nature. ‘And at least I’ve still got you.’ She walked over to him and gave him a hug. ‘The best daddy in the world.’

He squeezed her in return. ‘If only …’ he replied. ‘Now I need to go out and haven’t you some embroidery which requires your urgent attention?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Absolutely. Apparently, my stitching is nowhere near neat enough at the moment and I lack concentration. I can’t think why.’

‘Well, you’d best get on with it then.’

George watched his daughter give him a mock salute and leave the room. With her strong, confident stride and hair tumbling down her back, he realised how lovely she had become and his heart ached. Her mother would have been so proud of her and he felt desperately sad that she had missed their daughter’s transition from a gangly child to a beautiful woman.  For himself, he felt he had failed her as a father by saddling her with a narrow-minded, unloving stepmother. Already he knew that his recent marriage had been a big mistake and wished he knew how to resolve the situation. After just a few weeks of marriage, Adele had turfed him out of the marital bed, claiming that his snoring kept her awake, and she'd instructed the servants to move his things into the one remaining bedroom. It was a small, dark room facing east and the single bed was uncomfortable for his large frame but he'd borne it without complaint. At least now he could return from the pub without the fear of waking her and receiving a sharp rebuke.

His new wife and stepdaughter, however, were the least of his worries. Earlier in the year, he'd been forced to take out a loan to keep the farm afloat and pay the wages. He'd hoped corn prices would recover sufficiently to enable him to make good the loan once he had sold this year’s crop but that hadn't been the case. Instead, he was going to have to ask the bank to increase his debt to tide things over and the future looked bleak.

Pushing such thoughts aside, he reached for his coat and headed out of the door. The temporary respite afforded by a few pints of beer and several whiskies had become a daily necessity and tonight was certainly no different

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