A Lancashire Lass

Libby Ashworth

A LANCASHIRE LASS

Contents

About the Author

Libby Ashworth was born and raised in Lancashire, where she can trace her family back to the Middle Ages. It was while researching her family history that she realised there were so many stories about ordinary working people that she wanted to tell. She has previously written historical novels – The de Lacy Inheritance and By Loyalty Bound – as well as local history books.

Libby currently lives in Lancashire with her son.

Also by Libby Ashworth

The Cotton Spinner

In memory of Susannah Smithson.

Acknowledgements

Thanks to both my editors – Cassandra Di Bello and Jennie Rothwell, for their tireless work on this book and their welcome advice. Thanks also to all the rest of the team at Arrow – my copy editor, for her attention to detail, the cover designer for the beautiful image, and everyone who has worked so hard to make this book a success.

Thanks to my agent, Felicity Trew, and to Caroline Sheldon and everyone at the Caroline Sheldon Literary Agency for all their support.

Thanks once again to Blackburn Library for their Cotton Town website, which is an amazing resource for anyone who wants to study the history of Blackburn. And also to the Tuesday Reading Group for their interest and patience when I talk too much about my books.

Thanks to all my other friends, both readers and writers, who always offer encouragement. I hope you enjoy the story.

Chapter One

‘Gone? Gone where?’ asked Hannah.

Sally, the scullery maid, shrugged her shoulders. ‘I came down to set the fires and get the water on to boil, but Cook never showed up and when I knocked on her door there were nobody there. All the bedrooms are empty. Upstairs and down.’

Mary hurried in, pushing her hair into her cap. ‘What’s to do?’ she asked when she saw their faces.

‘Sal says everyone’s gone.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ said Mary, glancing at the row of bells high on the wall as if she expected them all to start tinkling at any moment. ‘We’d best get started on making some tea and toast before Mrs Slater gives us a telling off. I’ll scramble the eggs.’ She reached for a dish and the bowl of eggs and began to break them one by one, whisking as she went.

‘Sal says the family’s all disappeared as well,’ said Hannah, reaching out to stay Mary’s hand as she picked up another egg.

Mary hesitated and then gave Sally a fierce look. ‘Hast tha been to look?’

‘Aye. I crept in to lay the fires, but their beds weren’t slept in and their drawers were left open and nothing in ’em. And I can’t find Mr Cox or any of the footmen. I thought I were all alone until Hannah came down.’ A sob caught in her throat and she sat down on Cook’s chair and pulled a rag from her sleeve to wipe her nose. ‘I didn’t know what to do.’