Page 4
Chapter Four
“ W ell, I have never been so embarrassed in my life.”
Lily wished she had another way to return home, but, unfortunately, she was trapped in the carriage with her parents.
“I wasn’t feeling well.” She shrugged. “It must have been something I ate. And I did make it to the ladies’ room.”
“That is a blessing, at least.” Her mother sighed. “But you left Lord Nathaniel standing alone in the middle of the dance floor halfway through the set. People had much to say about it.”
“Let them say what they want. I will not do it,” Lily said, shaking her head as she looked from her mother to her father. “I will not marry him.”
“I do wish that he had not brought it up to you before I had the chance to speak with you,” her father said, rubbing a hand over his brow. “However?—”
“However, nothing,” Lily said. Her parents stared in surprise at her objections for she was usually agreeable, but if there was ever a time to stand up for herself, this was it.
“He makes me cringe. He even spoke to me about how after we married, he would continue pursuing things ladies should not concern themselves with .”
It was her father’s turn to wince.
“That shouldn’t matter—” her mother began, but her father stopped her by raising his hand.
“But it does, Annabelle. As much as this could be advantageous, I didn’t bring it up for a reason. I was hesitant at the thought of Lily marrying Lord Nathaniel. I have seen how the young man conducts himself. It is not ideal.”
“Perhaps the young man just needed time to get all of his flirtations out of his system.”
Lord Harcourt barked in laughter.
“Somehow, I think this young man’s interests go beyond flirtations.”
Lily swallowed hard, grateful that, as much as her father was absent due to his business interests, he had always had her welfare at heart.
“There was something he said that was actually of interest, however,” she said slowly, wondering if now was the time to raise the subject, but there would never be a good time to bring up something like this.
“Oh?” Her father lifted a brow.
“He told me about how his sister helps their father and the Manchester Athletics Club Committee with the team's finances. I thought perhaps, with my education, I could benefit our club as she does.”
“Oh, Lily, that is laughable!” her mother said, waving a hand in the air while her father only eyed her with some interest.
“That is not a typical role for a young lady.”
“A young lady of title, you mean,” she corrected. “I know of many women who help with bookkeeping.”
“Yes, but you have other pursuits,” her mother interjected. “You are to be finding a husband. That is most important.”
“Perhaps, but this would keep me occupied in the meantime.”
“I do not think—” her mother protested, but her father held up a hand.
“We will discuss it.”
“You will?” Hope bloomed in Lily’s chest. She wasn’t sure why this meant anything to her. She wasn’t passionate about numbers or bookkeeping, although she was competent in such skills.
It was more so that she liked the idea of having a purpose in her life, something besides finding a husband, as her mother was adamant about.
She had seen her mother’s life given over to nothing but the latest gossip and her social standing.
It wasn’t a life that Lily was particularly interested in, and she couldn’t spend all of her time reading – as much as she would like to.
“I said we would discuss it,” her father cautioned, obviously reading her expression. “I am not promising anything.”
“Thank you for considering it,” she said with a smile as the carriage stopped in front of the house, which was not particularly far as they lived in the same small community, Ellesmere Park, just outside of the city.
In one night, Lily had avoided a promise of marriage to Lord Nathaniel and had potentially found herself a role that would mean something.
She considered that a successful night, indeed.
“You are now a foreman at the mill?”
“And a player on the football team?”
Colin fielded the questions from his mother and sisters that evening as they all enjoyed one of the finer meals they’d had in some time. He had decided to celebrate his newfound success with a plump chicken from the butcher before he had continued home.
His mother quickly got to work cooking it while his two sisters were eager to ask questions.
“How was your practice with the team?” Sally asked. She was twelve, and every time Colin saw young women her age working in the mill, he vowed that she would never be one of them, that she could retain her childhood for as long as possible.
His mother had always emphasized education.
As much as she had hoped that Colin would find employment higher than that of a factory worker, when she had lost her job as a cook and had been unable to find another, he had left his education to become a solicitor and had taken work to support his family instead.
He had never admitted to anyone just how devastating it had been for him, but his family was his priority.
“It was… interesting,” he said, telling them first of finding his way on the field, feeling like it took him some time to get into a rhythm again, but playing with men he knew like Tommy and Joey helped it all return.
When he told them about missing the goal and hitting the primary sponsor’s daughter, their jaws dropped.
“Please tell me you are joking,” his sister Diane said, closing her eyes momentarily.
At eighteen, she was hoping to begin work as a teacher.
She had spent the past five years as a pupil-teacher, apprenticing as she furthered her own studies, and hoped to pass the teacher certification exam at the end of the year.
Not only did she enjoy children, but she had the mind and patience for it.
Colin had been working hard to help her find her success.
“I am not,” he said grimly. “Fortunately, she didn’t seem to suffer any ill effects, although Harcourt wasn’t exactly pleased with me. I must have done enough to make up for it, as he still wants to keep me on. And get this – he’ll pay me a pound a week as foreman and a pound for each match.”
“How many matches do you reckon you’ll play?” his mother asked.
“Hard to say, exactly,” he replied with a shrug. “Depends on how many the club committee can put together. But they want us to play in the FA Cup so as long as we win a few rounds, that will add up.”
“I’m proud of you, Colin,” his mother said, patting his hand. She had been a beauty in her day, but years of hard work had taken its toll on her. Colin considered she was probably near to the same age as Lady Harcourt, but one would think that there were twenty years between them.
“Thank you, Mother.”
“Between your new roles, Diane finishing her pupil-teacher training, and Sally doing so well in school, I must have done something right.”
“Of course you did, Mother,” Colin said warmly.
She had done everything she could – of that he knew.
His and Diane’s father had passed when he was ten, and then she’d had Sally with another man, one whose identity she had never shared.
It had left Colin to try to provide for the family while making his own way in the world. Eventually, he’d had to make a choice.
“When is your first game?” Sally asked eagerly.
“In a couple of weeks,” he said. “We’ll play an exhibition match or two before we begin the FA Cup series.
It starts off with the first round. We win, we go to the next round.
Lose, we are done. The first round will take place in October and November.
From my understanding, the final will be in March. ”
He didn’t tell them about what would happen if he won the FA Cup. It seemed rather far-fetched. Last season, seventeen clubs had vied for the title. The odds weren’t great.
But he was determined.
“How will you have time for football when you work such long hours?” Diane asked, always practical.
“Lord Harcourt said I could have the time off.”
“Paid?”
“Didn’t say otherwise.”
“Well, that’s about as good a situation as any,” his mother said, passing the rest of the chicken around, not leaving any for a second helping for herself. “The only thing better would be if you could play football for pay and not have to do anything else.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice,” he said with a laugh. “A dream.”
“Perhaps someday,” she said.
“Someday,” he agreed. It was always the mantra, but then, if they didn’t have “someday” to hold onto, what else was there?
Lily walked down the stairs, preparing to join her parents in the drawing room before dinner, but stopped when she heard her name on her mother’s lips.
It wasn’t often that her parents conversed alone, both so wrapped up in their own ventures, so she knew that she must be the topic of discussion, as their one commonality.
“I cannot believe you are considering this,” her mother said incredulously. “You not only told her she didn’t need to marry the man of our choosing?—”
“Your choosing.”
“—but you might actually allow her to sully herself with bookkeeping? I can hardly believe she even brought it up. Maybe her head was scrambled after the accident yesterday.”
“That didn’t just come from yesterday, and you know it, Annabelle. The girl seems a bit lost. She walks around all day with her head in her fictional books. At least if she is doing something for the club, she will be interacting with other people.”
“She can do that just fine at social gatherings.”
“But does she?”
His question was met with silence, and Lily’s stomach churned.
It was not that she didn’t like being in situations with other people.
She just didn’t see the point in having mindless conversations.
She would rather find people she truly bonded with.
Unfortunately, most people in her social circles were not so inclined.
It was what she enjoyed so much about Emmaline.
“What if she never marries?” Her mother’s voice was so quiet that Lily had to strain to hear it, pressing her ear against the door.
“Then she doesn’t marry.” Her father sighed. “I will leave her a sizeable inheritance, either way.”
“But what would she do with her life?”
“I suppose that would be up to her to decide.”
“You know what, Percy? Maybe you’re right.”
“About what?”
“About her taking on this role.”
There was a rustle of skirts that must have been her mother walking about the room.
“Perhaps if she begins to work, she will realize that this is what she would be relegated to if she does not marry,” her mother continued.
Her father tried to interject that was not exactly what he had meant, but her mother could no longer be stopped.
“She will likely find bookkeeping so boring, so tasking, that she will realize she would be better off to marry and be the lady of the house. Oh, Percy, this is it.”
“I’m not sure Lily will see it that way.”
“You do not know women. Of course she will.”
Her father was right, but Lily would take whatever reason would cause her mother to agree. She decided she best walk into the room about now, and her parents pasted smiles to their faces when they saw her.
“Well, shall I tell her the good news?” her mother asked, her eyebrows raised in expectation and her lips curled in the corners.
“What is it?” Lily asked, feigning curiosity.
“Your father has agreed to allow you to take on bookkeeping for the club.”
“Oh, how wonderful,” she said, clasping her hands together and hoping her surprise was believable. Her father did not seem convinced, but it appeared enough for her mother, who beamed back at her. “When do I start?”
“Tomorrow,” her father said. “My manager at the mill has been keeping most of the books as well, and he can show you what will be required.”
“I will go to the mill office?” she asked, thrilled.
It wasn’t often that she spent time at the mill.
It was not the nicest place in the world, no, but she would still welcome the opportunity to learn more about her father’s business.
He spent more time there than most aristocrats, although he still hired a man to run the day-to-day business.
“To start, yes,” her father said. “You can come once a week.”
“Once a week!” her mother said, beginning to stand. “I?—”
“Had such a wonderful idea, did you not, Annabelle?” he said with a forced smile, and Lily had to choke back her laugh at her mother’s returning one.
“Yes,” she said in a strained voice. “Of course.”
Lily wondered if she would have the opportunity to watch the team practice. She had no idea how often they did, nor did she know when they played, but she couldn’t help wanting to see the brown-eyed man again.
Even if doing so was likely dangerous – in more ways than one.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4 (Reading here)
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38