Rebekah Davidson

Chapter 1

"Mama, may I go to Adelaide's today?" Rebekah smoothed over her cotton dress, pressing the layers of bouncy material down to fit under the breakfast table. She had been taken quite ill for a number of days; her mother, caring in her own strange, alienating way, had forced her to be bed bound all the week. Of course, this had much frustrated Rebekah's short temper, as she was, as her grandfather described her (may he rest in peace), "born for country air, scrambling over hills and wading through rivers."

"From the pale look about your complexion, my dear girl, I do not think you are quite restored to your full health yet." The quick reply came, in the way that would irritate Rebekah to the bone - her mother had a tendency towards not listening to others, an amazing ability at stirring frustration and annoyance in one up, and being able to win arguments even if clearly wrong.

Rebekah swallowed her momentary resentment, and buttered her toast rather harshly.
"Let me assure you mama, I am quite in good health after my rest, and I do believe a breath of fresh air and short chat with dear Adelaide would be most beneficial to make me feel even more better."
Mrs Davidson looked up sharply. Mr Davidson, Rebekah's good but often sour tempered father, dropped his spoon promptly on his saucer, seeing an argument brewing.
"Rebekah may go, on the terms that," he looked heavily upon Rebekah, "that she returns in the carriage. I am going myself past the Goodchild's estate, so I will bring her back with me on my return at luncheon. Are we clear?"
Rebekah beamed, her (before hand slightly pale) countenance filled with colour at the prospect of leaving the house for a morning and visiting her good friend.
Mrs Davidson however, scowled at her toast, and buttered it crossly (just as her daughter did) and a good deal of sighing was heard from her side of the table.

Toward the end of the rather quiet meal, Mr Davidson produced a letter.
"Charles has sent a letter. I had thought it would be better if I left it, and opened it when I would be in your company."
And this declaration, all feelings of angst disappeared. Mrs Davidson burst into excited conversation, turning all of a sudden into a bubbly, happy woman, not expecting any reply to her joyful comments. A smile grew on Rebekah's face; she adored Charles, her dear brother, who had moved away six months ago to Oxford to start his own tailoring business.

"The letter reads: Dear Sir, Ma'am and my dearest sister Rebekah;
I write to you to tell you, all is well! The past month has seen such a large increase rate in our customers, and we had one fine gentleman visiting from Bristol on Monday last. I have hired a young fellow named James, who cannot be much older than Rebekah, but works like a shire horse (if possible in the tailoring trade) and always has a pleasant disposition. I plan to rent out the building for six months in advance while we still have a decent income - so that there will be no debt or money troubles later on if things do become a little unsteady.

I hope you are all well, I miss you all very much. I am planning to visit in August with James, as he is my house mate also and does so much for me. I do believe he needs some real Northern Country air, none of this Southern Fields nonsense. Do not get me wrong, dear Father, it is very picturesque and calm here, just as you said; but I must admit I much prefer the wilds of the outdoors at home.

I have strayed from the original subject. I am writing mainly to inform you we will be visiting apon the first week of August and staying for one week, not a day more. If you would, it would be lovely to stay at home; but if it is inconvenient, we will stay with Aunt Margaret. Please write soon.
Dearest regards,
Charles."