TALES FROM MORTIFER HOUSE - Part Nine - Charles and Emma

 Emma Pettigrew met Charles Mortifer via a mutual friend of the family and there was an instant rapport between the two. Charles could be extremely charming when he chose to be and it seemed he had set his sights on the raven haired girl. 

They exchanged many letters and the more that Emma read,the more she was enchanted by this handsome and engaging young man. He was a little lazy however and did not make as many in person visits as Emma would have liked and sometimes he was a little delayed in replying to her letters too. Despite everything, her heart would flutter at the mere mention of his name and her eyes would have an extra sparkle to them. 

If she knew he was visiting she would pick her prettiest dress to wear and put her hair up just how he liked it. He told her she had beautiful eyes and that would make her blush at the very memory. She would take his arm and parade around the garden perimeter, accompanied of course, usually by one of her friends or an older relative. 

She was never very sure of his intentions and in the periods they spent away from each other, mainly due to the fact they lived some way apart, Emma would fret that he was spending time with other girls. Of course she could not be totally possessive of him, he was not betrothed to her, but she spent their time apart wondering if he ever intended to ask for her hand in marriage especially as time passed. 

He was funny, he was charming, he was attentive, but a little distant at times. He also spent a lot of time asleep. If he wasn't sleeping he was eating, he was very fond of his food and his visits always included a trip to raid the kitchen even though he got shouted at by the housekeeper! 

As time went on Emma became more and more fond of Charles to the point where she confessed to one close friend that she might be in love. She just needed that reassurance of him asking for her hand in marriage. One beautiful summers eve the pair had a picnic on the lawn at Mortifer House when Emma visited with her mother. In the briefest of moments they were left alone and Emma seized her chance to lead Charles towards a conversation about marriage. 

She didn't want to seem forward but the heady summer evening made her feel bold and she confessed her love for him. 

She was met with silence, a deafening silence, she could feel tears prick her eyes. This was not what she had expected as a reaction to her confession. 

Emma moved to get up from the picnic blanket, she was confused and hurt. Charles had continually pursued her and spent time talking to her, laughing with her and flirting, yes, flirting, there could be no mistake! Did he not feel the same way?

As she rose to her feet she felt Charles's hand upon hers, He too had risen to his feet. She immediately retracted her own hand and felt anger and hurt rise inside her.  Her mother was approaching across the lawn, calling her name. She had probably witnessed the touch and no doubt wanted to protect her daughters honour. 

Charles looked down at her 'I need to explain..' he began. But that explanation had to come in the form of a letter once he was back home as Emma's mother thunderous face cut him short. 

Emma did not want to read the letter, she was afraid of its contents. She was shaking as she opened it.

My Dearest Emma, 

Although I was a little shocked at your confession of love I am deeply humbled and in awe that your feelings run so deep. I care about you Emma, care about you so very much. You are such a good and true friend to me. 

The thing that I have to say, and believe me Emma I do not want to hurt you, is that my heart belongs to another. She cannot be mine, although she too has declared her love for me but she is the only one that I can honestly say I truly loved back. 

Oh Emma, you are the sweetest girl, you are kind, you are beautiful but I cannot say the words you want to hear. 

I can only pray that in time you will forgive me and that we can remain close friends. I will visit you on the 4th of next month and will bring with me my cousin Edwin. I feel you two would be completely compatible.

Your friend, I hope, 

Charles Mortifer. 

Emma crumpled the letter and threw it across her bedroom. Then she sobbed for hours. She was humiliated that she had read Charles so wrong. Had she imagined the flirtatious talk? When he looked down at her and tipped her chin upwards so he could look into her eyes had she really misread everything ? 

When she could cry no more and her eyes were swollen almost shut from the tears, she could feel anger rising inside her. How dare he think his cousin Edwin could be a match? She had never been more hurt in her life. 

Sitting alone in the dark that evening she felt unwanted and unappreciated. She would never marry, no one would want her. She was destined to spend her days alone and no one would be able to convince her otherwise.  Worse, she had confessed love only to be rebuffed and rejected.

Emma did not reply to Charles's letter. Nor did she stay in the house the day he brought Edwin to visit. She had thought of flirting with Edwin to see if she could make Charles jealous but she guessed it would be most unfair to lead him on in that manner.  So instead she made herself unavailable and visited a friend. She missed Charles terribly, missed his letters, his friendship and their walks arm in arm whilst chatting, it was a huge hole in her life and her heart.

 He was not local to her so there was no possibility of them crossing paths on their every day errands, of this she was glad. The days of no communication lengthened into weeks and then months, summer turned to a stunningly golden autumn and a crisp cold winter. She thought about him every single day and the hurt and humiliation never left her.

Then Emma's whole life changed. Cecil Pettigrew, her father, died suddenly and unbeknown to her mother he had massive debts. Her mother was in poor health and unable to work, they sold what little assets they had and moved to a much smaller terraced house in a poorer part of town. Emma found a job in a tailors, fortunately she was very good at sewing and literate and jobs for bright girls like herself were plentiful. 

Another six months passed, she worked long hours and had little time to think of anything except sewing and nursing her increasingly sick mother who sadly died not too long after. Now Emma was all alone and the pain of missing Charles was dulled by the greater pain of the loss of both parents.

Emma threw herself into her work, barely pausing to eat and only going home when it grew too dark to sew any more. The tiny house she was in was enough for her and her work paid the bills. She could exist if nothing else. A few men who came for their jackets to be fitted or trousers taken up expressed interest in her but she had no desire to strike up a romance. She was content enough with her work, her house and her street cat she fed scraps to and let warm by the fire. 

That was her life in it's entirety until one spring day she glanced up from her sewing, a mouth full of pins and saw Charles standing in front of her. She hadn't heard him enter the shop. She nearly swallowed the pins in shock, she could feel herself colouring up and the familiar butterfly feeling in the pit of her stomach at the sight of his handsome, but puzzled face. 

It was pure chance that he had come to the area seeking a formal jacket having not found one that suited his needs where he lived. After the initial shock at seeing each other they fell into fairly easy conversation with Charles apologising profusely for not knowing her circumstances and about the death of both her parents. 

Conversation dry, she passed Charles to the shop owner Mr Hawkins to try on jackets as that was not really her job She found herself unable to concentrate and watched transfixed from under her lashes, he had a fine physique and once again her cheeks became flushed. 

At the end of the jacket fitting session Charles paid and once again approached where Emma was seated. She pushed a strand of hair back feeling slightly giddy as she looked once more into those eyes, well aware that she must look a sweaty mess to behold. 

She could see his mouth moving but couldn't hear a word he was saying until he repeated her name several times. 'Emma, Emma … Emma ? Can you hear me?' 

Startled she nodded. He wanted to take her to dinner, she couldn't possibly. There was so much work to do, she looked a fright and..and.. 

She looked to Hawkins as if to ask him to say they were far too busy but to her dismay he merely indicated to her to go. In fact he practically shooed her out of the shop into the street with such gusto that she slipped and Charles had to grab her arm to right her. A shock passed through to her very soul at the contact of his hand and she had to blink hard to stop herself crying. 

Dinner was good, she hadn't had the pleasure of a meal with company since the passing of her father. She even had a small drink which led to her dropping her guard and allowing Charles to walk her home where street cat met her with yellow saucer eyes and questioning meow at her late arrival. 

She wouldn't allow Charles into the house, aware that it would seem very small and cramped compared to Mortifer House which, as he told her, was now his. 

A fine misty rain began to fall as they said their goodbyes and Emma shivered. It was not yet summer. Charles apologised for keeping her standing outside and then he was gone, with a smile that instantly warmed her heart. 

She opened the door and street cat darted through the gap seeking food and warmth. Emma glanced down the street but the rain was heavier now and Charles had picked up pace, disappearing from sight. 

Once inside she sat and sobbed uncontrollably into street cats fur until he wriggled free of her grasp with an indignant yowl. 

A week later she came home to a letter, it seemed Charles was keen to communicate with her again. He would be returning to pick up the now altered jacket and wished to take Emma to dinner again.  

She didn't reply but on the day he was due to return she wore her nicest dress to work and made sure she looked her absolute best. This time she was prepared. 

He never showed up. The anger and bitter disappointment was hard to conceal from Hawkins who watched as she whirl-winded around the shop opening drawers and banging about.  He decided she was clearly not in a good mood and let her go early. 

She sat beside the fire in her house, watching the smoke rise up the chimney. There were no tears, only anger and rage that she had once again allowed herself to be taken in by this monster of a man. Even street cat slinked to the far end of the room sensing her mood. 

She threw lump after lump of coal onto the fire with her bare hands, feeling satisfaction as they cracked and broke with the force of her throw. A single tear slipped down her cheek stopped by the back of her hand in its tracks. No more tears for this man, ever.

A series of urgent knocks at the door got her to her feet and she pulled the door open violently. Emma felt she had been punched in the stomach and her knees buckled slightly. 

Charles caught her and gently led her back through the door. He looked down at her, she looked small and vulnerable at that moment, but angry. He noticed a streak of coal dust on her face and he reached for his handkerchief to rub it away. She reacted angrily and slapped his hand away. His answer was to kiss her and this time she didn't resist. 

Finally she was calm enough and she made tea while he explained that his carriage had lost a wheel on the journey down. Thankfully he was fine despite the carriage rolling into a ditch. As he was more than half way into the trip and didn't feel it was worth turning back. So with fresh horses and a new carriage he had continued, too late for the shop and too late for dinner. He would find somewhere to stay and collect his clothes in the morning. 

Against her better judgement Emma let him stay the night on her sofa protesting that it was too late to find a room. She barely slept a wink knowing he was in the room below her, her head was in a complete muddle. The morning came, they walked to the shop and Charles's departure came all too swiftly leaving her feeling empty, but that kiss was on her mind too. 

He did however promise her dinner to make up for the night before and true to his word he returned a few weeks later. By then it was early summer and they started to spend more time together, reminiscent of when things had been good between them before. This time Charles kissed her each time they met. Never again did she mention the word love though. 

Between visits they exchanged letters and Charles always addressed her as his dearest Emma and signed off as 'your true friend' until one day he wrote that he needed to see her urgently. Her heart sank she could not deal with this again. Part of her wanted to not meet him, he had asked her to come to Mortifer, she went through every excuse under the sun but decided to go and end things with him for once and for all. 

It was a nervy and arduous journey to Mortifer and as the carriage swung onto the drive way  she saw, with great dread, that Charles was waiting for her. Once she was rested and changed they walked together on the lawn of the house. She wished he would just speak his mind so she could sideswipe him by leaving and never looking back. 

They stopped walking and Charles waved his hand at the house. 'Such a big house but so empty with just myself and the housekeeper.' 

Emma looked at him questioningly and then gasped as he dropped to one knee and asked her for her hand in marriage. Of course she said yes and of course they kissed, but love was never mentioned. Still her heart sang and she was so happy. 

With no real family to invite the wedding arrangements were simple and swift. Within weeks Emma left her old life behind and settled with Charles at Mortifer. She did however bring street cat. She wanted him to roam free and keep the mice down for them. He seemed to appreciate the life she afforded him and often presented them with (unwanted) gifts of mice and shrews and occasionally rats much to their disgust. 

Her personal happiness was compounded with the arrival of first Angus and then Jane but Charles was a very absent father and husband. Rumours would reach her often that he was seen around town with other women but with the children to focus on she was less concerned about her own heart being crushed. But still she mourned the loss of companionship that she had once shared with him. She also wished that he could be a better father figure for Angus and Jane, someone steadfast and strong to look up to, however that was not to be. There were however flashes of normality and fun, Charles loved to throw lavish parties and Stitchy was a friend who regularly attended, he was a kind of  travelling illusionist and entertainer with an air of mystery the children grew very fond of him. 

It was about this time that Charles began his coded journal and he clearly had a lot to hide...

Sarah Russell 2022