Evie’s Choice

‘Will!’

He raised his head and looked at me, dazed, and I saw he was moments away from being crushed. He saw it too, and scrambled to his feet, and I grabbed his hand and pulled him away a bare second before the van crashed onto its side. We stood there, both of us staring at the van, and then at each other. Will opened his mouth to say something, but instead turned back to the van that had chuntered into silence. We were both breathing hard and I realised, at the same moment Will did, that we were still holding hands. He didn’t let go.

Instead he said in an awed voice, ‘I think you might have just saved my life.’

It gave me a strange feeling to realise he was right. On the other hand …‘Well, it was my fault you crashed. Will Mr Markham fire you for this?’

‘No, I’m too good at my job.’

I was about to tease him about his lack of modesty, but such was his confidence I was certain he was justified in it. ‘What will you do now?’

‘Walk.’

I stared at him, and he stared back, and then, out of nowhere we both erupted into laughter. It sounded wonderful in the summer air, free from hysteria, and unforced, and Will was still smiling as he stood back and let go of my hand.

He walked around to the back of the van and grimaced, then glanced at me curiously before bending to pick up one of the empty boxes that had fallen out. ‘Why are you walking alone, anyway?’

‘Mother was getting a headache.’

He blinked. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘I was driving her to distraction, as usual, pacing up and down.’ I went to help him and, with an odd mixture of pique and amusement I realised he wasn’t going to say, “No, Miss Evangeline, you mustn’t.” I hid my own smile as I dragged an empty box out of the ditch and placed it on top of the one he had laid beside him.

‘What prompted all the pacing?’ he asked.

It did sound silly, and petulant, even to my own ears, and I sighed; ‘It’s my birthday in two days. I’m expected to take a maid, although I don’t want one.’

‘It certainly looks as though you don’t need one,’ he observed, as I helped him lift another box.

I gave him a wry look. ‘Apparently it has little to do with ability, and everything to do with tradition. Besides, Mother says I won’t have Alice to help out any more, since we’re going to be having a lot more house guests from now on.’

‘Finding you a husband?’

‘Don’t, please!’

He leaned on the underneath of the van. ‘So you’ll be eighteen then,’ he said, and the way his eyes locked onto mine was both unnerving and deeply, viscerally, exciting.

‘Yes. Mother wanted me to have Ruth Wilkins.’ He winced, and I couldn’t help laughing. ‘Do you know her?’

‘Not as well as Frank Markham does,’ he said. ‘The two of them have been carrying on at least for as long as I’ve known him, probably much longer.’

Clearly none of the other staff were aware of this or Ruth would have had her marching orders, good worker or not. But I was trying to appear a woman of the world, and so I tried not to let my surprise and distaste show. ‘Well, I don’t like her,’ I said.

‘You’re a good judge of character then. I don’t think even Mr Markham likes her, particularly.’

I didn’t want to think about Ruth; the more I heard the more I realised I’d had a lucky escape. ‘I’ve made my choice anyway,’ I said, still pleased with it, ‘and it’s most certainly not Ruth. It’s the new scullery maid.’

‘Lizzy Parker?’

‘Just Lizzy.’ He looked puzzled, and I grinned. ‘It doesn’t matter. Yes, Lizzy Parker. She seems a lively sort, and I’m sure we’ll get on famously.’

‘She’s an angel,’ he agreed, and I was ashamed to feel a tingle of jealousy at his warm familiarity, but when I glanced at him he was looking back at me with an odd look on his face and I didn’t think Lizzy was on his mind at all at that moment.

Something about that look made me ask, ‘How old are you, Will?’

‘Older than you think, probably,’ he said. ‘Most people think I’m about twenty.’

‘I thought that.’

‘I was twenty-five last January.’

I studied him closely, noting, for the first time, the way he held himself; there was none of the gawky awkwardness of a young man just growing into his body, he was comfortable and at ease with his own strength. He was having an increasingly unsettling effect on me and I sought refuge in teasing.

‘That seems a little older that I’d have expected for a butcher’s boy,’ I observed, hoping the flush did not show as vividly as it felt.

Will moved a step closer. ‘I’m no boy, Evie.’ He brushed his hand over my wrist, and we both watched as my fingers and his twined together, capturing each other in wordless acceptance of the attraction between us. Once again we each sought something to say, our eyes still on our linked hands as if they might say it for us. Will took a deep breath, and his free hand rose to my face, but before he could speak again we heard an alarmed, childlike voice from the other side of the van.

‘Mr Markham? Are you all right?’

We froze, staring at each other. My mind raced; Lawrence was decent enough, for a brother, but if he saw Will and me together by the stricken van he might easily let something slip during his inevitable telling of the story later.

Will leaned in close, and his breath brushed warm on my cheek as he whispered, ‘I’ll tell you more about my life one day, and how I came to be working for Markham. If you’d like that?’

‘I would.’ We both took a step back, and I smoothed down my skirt with hands that shook and still felt Will’s warmth. Lawrence was still on the other side of the van and hadn’t seen us, so I moved away, stepping over a patch of mud. My foot came down short of my intended spot, and I slipped. Quick as lightning Will’s hand was at my waist, steadying me, and I caught my breath, hoping he would keep it there. But with Lawrence so close it would have been foolish to risk him seeing us, and Will let go of me as soon as my footing was secure once more. I wondered if he felt the same twinge of disappointment as I did.

There was no possible way to avoid being seen; Lawrence was having a good look around the van and it mustn’t seem as if we were hiding. Ignoring Will’s horrified look I stepped out into the road, in full view.

‘Lawrence! Thank goodness.’ His face, open and honest and very young for fifteen years old, went blank with astonishment at seeing me there. ‘I’m afraid I’ve caused a terrible accident,’ I went on. ‘Luckily no one was hurt, but it’s entirely my fault Mr Davies crashed the van.’

‘Yours? How?’

‘I wasn’t paying attention, and walked right out in front of him. If he hadn’t been so quick he might have run me over.’

Lawrence looked awestruck. He was a sweet boy and I felt bad for deceiving him, but this was an event he would be telling everyone about for some time, and I couldn’t risk asking him to keep quiet about my being here, he was too excited.

‘It wasn’t entirely your fault, Miss,’ Will said, emerging from behind the van to stand behind me. I couldn’t see his face, but he had managed to inject a note of annoyance into his voice and it was hard not to smile.

‘Oh, you’re too kind, Mr Davies, but it was.’ I turned to him. Sure enough he was scowling, but I was close enough to see the flicker of amusement in his eyes, and the dimple came and went quickly. ‘You must be very shaken. Come back to the house, Mrs Hannah will be pleased to make you a warm drink.’

‘Thank you, Miss. Sir.’ Will nodded at Lawrence, who smiled at the address. He would have to get used to it; he was heir to Oaklands after all, and people would soon be accepting him as more than just “the little boy at the Manor”.

Will and I were careful to keep our distance as we walked back up the long driveway, allowing Lawrence to walk between us and ask Will all kinds of questions, about the van, and about driving in particular. Remembering Will’s fierce concentration as he drove, I was sure I could have answered those questions with more detail, and certainly more enthusiasm, but I let them chatter, and instead concentrated on the way my feelings towards Will had intensified during my time away. It was impossible to ignore the way he’d looked at me just before Lawrence had arrived and, while it might be socially unacceptable, there was no longer any doubt in my mind that Will and myself had a path to travel together at some point.

I reluctantly let Lawrence take charge of directing Will to the kitchens, and found Mother in the hall saying goodbye to Uncle Jack. Because of his government work he was often away for long stretches of time, and he didn’t even live with us, but it was difficult to remember that and always a wrench when he left. This time though, I knew he would be back in time for my party on Saturday, which made it easier to see him off cheerfully. I wished I was going too, and that we could both stay away until after Saturday; as excited as I was, part of me still dreaded this party and the way my life would change after it.

Although my birthday was on Friday, the Saturday-to-Monday that followed would be when I was presented with my birthright, the Kalteng Star. Most thought it a thing of beauty: a blue diamond mined by the first of the wealthy Creswells at the turn of the last century, and upon which all future family wealth was built. But all it represented to me was discord and upset. Our family, and our distant cousins, the Wingfields, had been at loggerheads for years over that stone, and on Saturday I would become its sole custodian. I wouldn’t even own it, it was simply mine to use, to create more wealth, until the last Creswell heir died, taking the family name with him. Beautiful, yes, set as it was into a plain gold band and worn on a fine chain, but still it was destined to bring nothing but pain, until it passed out of our lives forever. That day could not come soon enough.

Putting it out of my mind for now, I followed Mother and Uncle Jack out to the front door again and tried not to look around for Will – it was strange knowing he was in the house talking to other people, and I felt a new twinge of envy for those who ensnared his attention now.