Free Whispers by Rosie Goodwin

had fashioned from an old one that the Mistress had passed on to Grace. There seemed to be a glow about her, and the old lady eyed her suspiciously.
    ‘Just goin’ to the fair you’re lookin’ so pleased about, is it?’ she enquired.
    Martha had the good grace to blush as Grace quickly grabbed her hand.
    ‘Come along, else it’ll be time to come back afore we even get there,’ she urged and so the two sisters set off.
    They were going down the drive when Grace scolded, ‘I hope you haven’t arranged to meet young Jimmy Weeks at the fair, Martha?’
    Martha had met Jimmy, who worked on the neighbouring Leathermill Farm, the week before at the market and he had walked her home and kindly carried her basket for her.
    ‘I haven’t, as it so happens,’ Martha snapped. ‘But what if I had? I’m not a child any more, Grace, and I like Jimmy. He’s kind an’ he’s handsome.’
    ‘That’s as maybe, but you’re a little young to be walking out with anyone just yet.’
    Martha opened her mouth to protest but stopped when she saw the Master galloping towards them on his coal-black stallion.
    They stepped to the side of the drive, but when he drew abreast of them, Master Fenton reined his horse in and looked at Martha approvingly.
    ‘My, my, don’t we look pretty today? Off to the fair, are we?’ He leaned down from his saddle and tilted Martha’s chin up to him.
    She blushed at the compliment, thinking how nice it was of him, but Bertie’s face turned a dull brick-red colour, and when he made to step forward, Grace clung on to his hand as she yanked Martha from his grasp with her other.
    ‘Yes, sir, we are – an’ so if you don’t mind we’ll be on our way else it will hardly be worth goin’.’
    Without another word the young woman dragged Bertie and Martha along as the Master followed Martha with his eyes before slapping his whip sharply against Prince’s flank and galloping away at breakneck speed, his tail-coats flapping wildly behind him.
    ‘Poor bloody ’orse,’ Bertie muttered as he clenched his fists. ‘No doubt the beast will be all of a lather again by the time he gets him back to the stables.’
    ‘Well, that’s not for you to worry about tonight,’ Grace told him sternly and then turning her attention to Martha she said forcefully, ‘Don’t you ever get yerself in a position where you’re alone wi’ him. Do yer hear me?’
    ‘But he only said I looked pretty,’ Martha objected.
    ‘That’s as maybe. But keep yer distance all the same.’
    Totally confused, Martha nodded and they made the rest of their journey in silence.
    Once at the fair, Martha was happy to find that the bear wasn’t there, although she worried about what might have become of him. There was a snake charmer and a bearded lady, however, but Martha was too busy keeping an eye open for a sight of Jimmy Weeks to take much notice. They wandered about the side-shows, but somehow since the encounter with the Master the joy had gone from the day and the trio made their way home in a subdued mood.
    Martha was feeling slightly angry at Grace because of the way she had talked to her, and although she had never kept a secret from her sister before, she decided that if she should see Jimmy again, she wouldn’t tell her about it. She was tired of them all still treating her like a little girl. And what had all that been about, when the Master had told her she looked pretty? Grace and Bertie had looked fit to burst with anger. It was all very confusing.
    Once back at the house, Martha kissed Granny Reid a hasty good-night and went upstairs to the attic. She had no wish to be in their company any more that evening.
    Once in bed, she wrote the happenings of the day in her journal until her candle began to burn low.
    As she came to the end of the page, Jess snapped back to the present with a jolt. The girl’s writing had been so vivid she almost felt as if she had gone back in time and had actually been there. She sighed as she