A Brighter Tomorrow by Maggie Ford (read with me .txt) 📕

laughing about how lumpy Florrie’s bed was becoming, and Ellie had promised to see if the master could find his way clear to getting his wife to see about a better mattress for her.

Suddenly Florrie’s laughter faded. She grew serious. ‘If the mistress was to find out what you’ve been up to, she’d send you away like a shot, much less get me a decent mattress.’

Ellie too stopped laughing to frown. ‘What do you mean – what I’ve been up to?’

‘You and that tutor.’

As Ellie stared, completely taken aback, she went on, ‘Mrs Jenkins knows about it. It was one evening when she couldn’t sleep, she thought she ’eard a noise in the kitchen. She said she went to investigate and saw you and him outside the back door, him with his arms around you, and you was both kissing. She said she felt she had to tell the master.’

‘What she needs to do is mind her own business!’ Ellie blustered, ‘prying into my affairs. I’m nothing to do with her any more.’ But her heart was racing.

He knew. He must have known for ages then, and had said nothing. It brought sudden goose pimples to her flesh. Surely, if he had been at ease with it he would have mentioned to her what he’d been told, but his having kept it to himself gave a feeling of menace, showing a side to him she had never suspected.

Had he spoken of misgivings about her and Michael’s developing relationship, it would at least have been honest; but concealing what he’d been told… All the attention he had been showering on her, all this kindness, and all the time he’d probably been watching her like a hawk.

She hadn’t truly realized how far he was eaten up with this obsession he had for her. Now she had no idea where she stood and her plans to leave, which had once seemed so simple and easy, suddenly made her wonder.

Seventeen

‘I am thinking, my dear, it may be time to find you another tutor – one who can teach you so much more than you are learning at present.’

His tone was kind, his smile gentle, but Ellie was ready for him. ‘Mr Deel is a very good teacher,’ she said, trying not to sound too anxious.

‘Maybe,’ came the mild reply, ‘as far as his abilities go. What you really need now is professional tutoring. There is many a fine art academy here in London, in Paris, Milan. With your exceptional talent any one of them will accept you. You could be a great artist at the end of it.’

He was warming to his subject. ‘Think of it, my dear: to be considered among today’s great painters. And I shall be there for you, to fund you, so you’ll have no worry on that score. All you have to do is dedicate yourself to art. No, I fear Michael Deel cannot do that for you.’

‘He still has a lot to teach me before then.’ She had to be careful how she chose her words. ‘And he charges you no fees, and he likes coming.’

She stopped. It was the wrong thing to have said. Of course he didn’t charge fees and of course he liked coming here. And why? The answer stood out like a beacon.

‘Any other tutor would be ever so expensive,’ she said hurriedly. ‘And I don’t really warrant all that outlay. If I was really gifted then—’

‘I consider you are.’ His easy smile had vanished. ‘Exceedingly so.’

‘No, I’m not!’ For all her efforts she couldn’t help the sharp outburst. His false concern for her made her angry. ‘I’m just a bit better than some, that’s all. It’s only you who think I’m some sort of genius with a paintbrush. Well I’m not! There’s ’undreds and ’undreds of people can paint like me.’

In fear and anger she forgot for a moment what she’d been taught. She saw him frown and realized that this wasn’t the way to go. ‘I’m just an ordinary person, that’s all I am,’ she ended on a note of entreaty.

Was this his plan – to send her to some college of art, miles away, far enough away to make it impossible for her to see Michael – somewhere like Milan, in Italy? Beneath this mild mien of his there beat a devious heart. He wanted to keep her all for himself, even sacrificing her to a year or two away from him – anything to stop her and Michael seeing each other. But he didn’t realize he was heading the right way to losing her.

It came to her suddenly. This was the time. It had finally arrived. She had enough money saved. She’d have liked more. For all his cunning, he had no idea how independent of him she was becoming. Yet…

In her breast conflict was beginning to rage. What if she did comply, manipulated him just a little longer? Michael would stand by her when he learned what really lay deep in this man’s heart. He would wait for her. And if she did become a great artist – it might open all sorts of doors. She might even become wealthy in her own right. And she would stand over her father, see him a little man before her vast wealth.

Her father – he was never far from her thoughts. After all these months since the episode at King Edward’s opening of Parliament back in February, it still played on her mind.

She’d chided herself so many times for having too vivid an imagination, telling herself that it couldn’t have been her father who had clutched her around the waist from behind, unaware it was his own daughter; that it had to be too much of a coincidence; that it couldn’t have been his voice she’d heard. If he’d been in London, surely he’d have found out by then about her mother’s death? Perhaps he had. Perhaps he didn’t care. Perhaps he was only too glad to be free.

The thought