THE TEA PLANTER'S DAUGHTER:A wonderfully moving story of courage and enduring love: First in the India Tea Series by Janet MacLeod Trotter

Author:Janet MacLeod Trotter [Trotter, Janet MacLeod]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: Edwardian sagas, Tea Trade, India and NE England, strong love story, Newcastle tea rooms, tea in Assam, British in India.
Publisher: MacLeod Trotter Books
Published: 2013-11-28T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 21

Autumn 1909

Word of Herbert’s proposal caused a storm among his family and acquaintances. Bertie was furious, Verity hysterical, the Landsdownes coldly disapproving. Only Will sent them a warm letter of congratulations. Fellow churchgoers glanced askance at Herbert and muttered when he insisted on Clarrie and Olive sitting in the forward pew with him instead of behind with the other servants. Even Dolly revolted and handed in her notice.

‘It wouldn’t be right,’ she told Clarrie frostily. ‘One minute you’re one of us, the next I’m bobbin’ and curtseying like you’re some’at special.’

‘It won’t be like that,’ Clarrie insisted. ‘I won’t ask any more of you than I do as housekeeper.’

‘It won’t be the same.’ Dolly sniffed in offence, as if Clarrie had done it as a deliberate slight.

She left a month later. On Clarrie’s advice, Herbert did not replace her immediately.

‘Olive and I will manage the cooking in the meantime. Best wait till we’re wed, so a new cook won’t know me as the housekeeper first.’

Olive, who had been thrilled by her sister’s unexpected news, took Dolly’s leaving badly.

‘She’s the only friend I’ve got,’ she said tearfully. ‘Now I’ve no one to natter with.’

‘You’ve got me,’ Clarrie reminded her. ‘Soon you’ll be leading a different sort of life — a lady of leisure. You can go back to your music and drawing. Won’t that be wonderful?’

Olive appeared to cheer up at her words. But if Clarrie’s attention had not been so taken up with hostility from other quarters, she might have noticed her sister’s growing ambivalence towards her forthcoming marriage.

But Bertie and Verity’s opposition was vocal and relentless. Clarrie knew by the strain on Herbert’s face that his son was making life difficult at the office and Herbert increasingly stayed at home to do his work in the study. Verity refused to bring the grandchildren round to see him and no more invitations came to visit the house in Tankerville.

One day, when Herbert was out, Bertie marched into the house to confront Clarrie. He cornered her alone in the kitchen.

‘I know your game, Belhaven,’ he said with a contemptuous jut of his fleshy chin, ‘you’re after my father’s money. You’re trying to take what’s rightfully mine!’

‘I most certainly am not.’ Clarrie was indignant.

‘Trying to step into my dear mother’s shoes. It disgusts me. Don’t pretend for one minute you love him.’

‘It’s none of your business,’ Clarrie gasped.

‘Oh, but it is.’ In fury he pushed her up against the table and grabbed her chin in a vice-like grip. ‘Don’t play the prim little madam with me,’ he snarled.

Clarrie felt suffocating panic. His hatred of her was palpable.

‘I don’t want what’s yours,’ she cried. ‘I just want to live in peace and dignity with your father.’

He gave a savage laugh. ‘I don’t believe you. How did you wheedle your way into his affections? With some native witchcraft? A love potion?’

Suddenly with his other hand he grabbed her hair and jerked her towards him. Fixing wet lips on hers, he gave her a smothering kiss.

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