Read Online Pauper's Gold by Margaret Dickinson - Free Book Online

walked with a graceful ease and held his head in a proud manner. Expensively
dressed in a maroon frock coat, fawn trousers and matching waistcoat, he had high cheekbones above a firm, square chin and thick, black eyebrows that shadowed his dark brown eyes. He had neatly cut
side-whiskers but, though his mouth was well shaped, there was a discontented downturn to his lips.
    For a brief moment their eyes met, and Hannah saw his eyebrows draw together in a frown. He strode towards her, his face thunderous.
    ‘What’s all the noise? Concentrate on your work, girl.’
    Ernest was beside her at once. ‘She’s new, Mr Edmund. Only arrived yesterday.’
    ‘That’s no excuse. She should know her place, and her place is attending to her work, not singing.’
    ‘I’ll see to it, Mr Edmund.’
    ‘Mind you do, Scarsfield.’ He was about to turn away when his glance rested on some of the raw cotton that Millie had been working on. He picked up a handful. ‘And what’s
this? Supposed to be finished is it?’ He flung it at Hannah. ‘You’d better learn to do your work a lot better than this, else you’ll be back to the workhouse. And Goodbody
will not be pleased to see you. Scarsfield, you’re to stop her a shilling from her pay—’
    Hannah’s blue eyes flashed. ‘How can he stop money out of my pay? I don’t get paid.’ She pointed her finger at the older man. ‘Mr Critchlow said so.’
    There was a breathless silence whilst everyone in the room stared at her.
    The tall man stepped close to her, glaring down at her from his superior height. He grasped her chin with strong fingers, forcing her head backwards. He held her like that for several moments,
gazing into her eyes, his glance roaming over the whole of her face.
    ‘Answer me back would you, girl? We’ll see what a night on the floor of the punishment room will do for you.’
    He released her suddenly so that she staggered backwards. He turned away. ‘See to it, Scarsfield. No supper and you can take a shilling from the money she brought with her.’
    Hannah opened her mouth to protest, but she caught Ernest’s warning shake of his head. The angry stranger brushed imaginary fluff from his jacket and strode into the room next door,
followed by Mr Critchlow.
    ‘I’ll see you later, Francis,’ Ernest said before he hurried after them.
    Spreading out the cleaned cotton fibres into a flat sheet, Millie smiled triumphantly. ‘Serves you right. You should know better than to cheek Mr Edmund.’
    So, Hannah thought as she picked up the cotton he had flung at her, that was Mr Edmund Critchlow. The man she had been warned about.
    A little later, Ernest Scarsfield came back alone. He stood with his arms akimbo, glancing between the two girls. ‘Now, which of you two was supposed to have scutched that piece of cotton
the young master found? Come on, I want the truth.’
    Hannah met his gaze fearlessly, but she said nothing.
    ‘It weren’t me, mester,’ Millie whined. ‘I’ve put ’er on the scutching. I’m doing the blending and the spreading now.’ She cocked her head on one
side and smiled winningly at the overlooker. ‘If that’s all right with you, Mr Scarsfield. See, you ’ave to know what you’re doing with the blending, don’t you, Mr
Scarsfield? We don’t want all different qualities mixed up together do we, sir?’
    Shocked, Hannah gaped at the girl. Millie was lying quite blatantly. She pressed her lips together and shot the girl a vitriolic glance, but still she said not a word.
    ‘Hmm,’ Ernest said thoughtfully, stroking his moustache. ‘Very well then, but you’d better both mind what you’re doing. I don’t want any slacking else
I’ll have to fine the pair of you.’
    With a stern glance at each of them in turn, Ernest Scarsfield left the room, banging the door behind him.
    Once she was sure he was out of earshot, Hannah turned on the girl. She grasped her arm and swung her round to face her. ‘Don’t you dare tell