Esther was considered the prettiest girl of her generation, in a village well known for the comeliness of its womenfolk. She was slender, golden-haired and possessed of a pair of eyes the colour of bluebells in spring.
All of which should have meant she was, at the very least, aware of her good fortune, at worst, off-puttingly arrogant, but she wasn’t. Indeed, Esther didn’t seem to notice her own attractions, and far from being swollen-headed, or flirtatious and giggly, she was quiet and a little bit bookish.
She worked, as did most of the village women and girls, in the paper mill on the outskirts of the village that stood beside a rushing stream. Her father John was a Master Paper Maker and his earnings were such that her mother Mary was able to remain in the home caring for an ever-increasing brood of children, and overseeing the welfare of the apprentices who learned paper making under her father’s firm hand. Boys who came from neighbouring villages were boarded with an elderly widow who needed the few shillings she was paid for their bed and food. Mary kept a friendly eye on them all, making sure their living conditions were clean and their meals were wholesome and sufficient. Some, after time and many months of hard work, even became honorary family members. One such boy was the gentle giant called Will Thornsby, whose monumental patience with the little ones endeared him greatly to Esther’s mother, while his unflinching work ethic earned her father’s staunch approval.
This story is from the November 2020 edition of Womans Weekly Fiction Special.
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This story is from the November 2020 edition of Womans Weekly Fiction Special.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
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