Chapters (73)
- Cover
- Dedication
- PART ONE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- PART TWO
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- PART THREE
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- PART FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- PART FIVE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- Keep Reading …
- About the Author
- Also by Barbara Taylor Bradford
- About the Publisher
And yet Emma was unique and, in many ways, she had captivated him. Her beauty seemed to become more vivid and vital every day. Certainly, her emerald eyes were stamped on his brain. He knew he would never forget that look of pure hatred in them when she spoke of the Fairleys, or the laughter sparkling there when she was happy, and the genuine sorrow when she spoke of her mother. Once, a long time ago, Aunt Eileen had told him that the eyes were the mirror of the soul, and he believed that. And most especially, it was true of Emma’s eyes, because they were so expressive, so large and so green. Like the sea around Ireland, he thought, as he blew out the candle on the small table near the bed.
He pulled the blankets up around his shoulders, settling down for the night. He was wondering how he could be so drawn to two women at the same time. He had no answer, and within minutes, he had fallen asleep, tired out from a hard day’s work.
PART FIVE
Other People’s Lives
Yorkshire
1905–6
FIFTY-FOUR
‘Here we are then, lass,’ the tinker said, bringing his horse and cart to a stop. ‘There it is, The Mucky Duck.’
Emma looked at the sign hanging outside the public house, and said, ‘But it says The Black Swan.’
The tinker and his wife laughed, and he said, ‘It’s a local joke, luv. Don’t yer get it? Just another play on’t name.’
‘Oh, yes, I see,’ Emma replied. ‘Thank you both for giving me a lift to Leeds. It was so very kind of you.’ She enunciated her words carefully, copying the way Olivia Wainright spoke. She had been practising for months, wanting to improve her speech.
After carefully getting down from the cart, she took hold of her suitcase, which the tinker had lowered to the ground. Smiling up at them, she said again, ‘Thank you very much,’ and waved her hand.
The tinker’s wife gave a little wave back and said, ‘A beautiful young lady like yer will find Leeds a good place ter be.’
The tinker nodded, grinned and flicked the reins, and the two horses started to move away from the pub, their hooves clattering against the cobblestones.
Emma stepped onto the pavement and went into the pub, and hesitated. One door said Saloon Bar; another Tap Room; and the third said The Snug. Deciding the right one must be the bar, she pushed the door open and went inside.
It was bright inside, and she could hear someone humming, yet obviously out of sight, because the bar was empty. Then she noticed a blonde head reflected in the mirror behind the bar.
As she walked closer, she called out, ‘Hello! Hello! Is there anyone here?’