The Girl in the Scrapbook Carolyn Ruffles (read an ebook week txt) 📖
- Author: Carolyn Ruffles
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Norah went to the ball in a green, silk gown which matched her eyes and was thoroughly miserable. She did receive a flattering amount of male attention but politely and firmly rebuffed all advances. She had no intention of getting married and giving up all her plans of university, although, she realised, these would now need to be postponed to some future date. Meanwhile, she was busy making schemes of her own. When a few friends, who had since moved away, wrote to her offering their condolences, she'd written back and asked if they knew of any suitable employment for her. She struck lucky when an old school friend, Amy Thompson, who had married the baker in the pretty village of Collingworth, ten miles away, had sent her a reply. She'd heard of a vacancy for the position of nanny at Collingworth Hall and urged Norah to apply for the position. Lord and Lady Collingworth had three children under the age of eight and urgently needed someone to take over their care and schooling. Apparently, the last nanny had left under a bit of a cloud, Amy revealed in her letter. The word was that she had behaved indiscreetly with Lord Collingworth and been dismissed.
Norah considered her options, which were, at that point, limited to marriage or employment, and decided to apply. If successful, this would provide her with a chance of independence, live-in accommodation and a modest wage. At least she wouldn't be out on the streets and she could begin to save for her future. Certainly, it would be a come-down from what she was used to but, when she'd discussed it with her friend, Sybil, now six months pregnant with her first child, Sybil had just shrugged. ‘Beggars can’t be choosers.’
Seeing Sybil had only made Norah more determined to seek employment. Her friend’s marriage was not happy; her husband, a large, coarse, much older man, was not averse to hitting her if she didn't complete all her wifely tasks to his satisfaction. Whilst he had provided for her extended family, this generosity was Sybil’s only consolation as she found herself irrevocably committed to a man she detested and of whom she was afraid. Although pregnant, she'd lost weight and her face was pale and drawn, with dark circles under her eyes.
Norah pitied her friend and was determined not to succumb to a similar situation. At least she had no other family to worry about and could make her decision for herself. She penned her letter of application carefully and waited for a reply.
Meanwhile, the farm had been sold for £5 per acre to Cyril Brooke of Chalkham Hall. This had come as something of a relief to the farmworkers who had all been retained to work on the land and to continue the dairy herd. Mr Brooke had promoted Arthur to the position of farm foreman and provided him with a larger cottage on the estate.
Arthur told Norah of his good fortune when he paid a visit to Willow Farm on a warm Sunday afternoon in October. Adele had taken Hope in the pony and trap over to Bury St Edmunds to spend some time with her fiancé in his house. She wished to make some alterations to the furnishings before she moved in and therefore wanted to instruct the servants to take some measurements.
Norah was alone in the garden reading when Elsie announced Arthur’s arrival. She could not help the way her heart skipped a beat as he approached. He had become so tall and fine looking, with his thick, dark hair and intense brown eyes. She rose from her chair and greeted him warmly.
‘Arthur, how nice of you to visit,’ she said, taking his arm and steering him to the chair opposite. ‘Would you like some tea?’
‘That would be most appreciated, Miss Norah.’
Was it her imagination or had his voice deepened? She gave herself a mental shake and smiled at Elsie who was waiting for instruction.
‘Two teas, please Elsie,’ she said and then turned back to Arthur. ‘It seems ages since I’ve seen you. How are things with you? Have you heard yet what is to happen to all the workers?’
He told her his news in his usual self-deprecating manner. ‘To be sure, it’s much more than I deserve but I’m grateful all the same. Mr Brooke seems a good man and a fair employer. I’ve been very lucky. But enough of me. How are you?’
He looked at her intently. She seemed very thin and frail, like a delicate flower. However, her auburn hair still shone like burnished gold and her green eyes, although filled with immeasurable sadness, were as beautiful as ever. She smiled bravely. ‘I’m fine, thank you. I’ve just heard that I have secured a position at Collingworth Hall so I will be leaving Great Chalkham which will be sad but things could be worse.’
Arthur frowned. ‘Collingworth Hall?’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sure I heard some gossip about Lord Collingworth some time ago but I can’t quite remember what it was. I think perhaps it involved one of the servants.’
‘No, it was actually the nanny and it was she who was at fault. She tried to ingratiate herself with him, apparently, but it didn’t work. That’s why they need a new nanny,’ Norah assured him.
‘No,’ he mused thoughtfully. ‘I don’t think it was the nanny - it was one of the maids … and it was some time ago … but anyway,’ he turned to her, suddenly serious, ‘is this what you want? It will be very different from the life you’re used to, always at someone’s beck and call. You’re used to giving orders, not taking them.’
‘Beggars can’t be choosers,’ she recited Sybil’s mantra. ‘It’s either that or find some old man to marry me and I know which option I prefer.’
‘Are you so set against marriage then?’ he asked carefully.
‘Of course not but I will only marry for love. Do
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