Briar Patch (32 page)

‘But your family – your farm?'

‘The house and land still belong to my father, even though Dick and I kept it going for years. If it had been left to Pa he would have lost it years ago, but it is still his legally. I have a small amount of money but no house and no land.'

‘What about your mother and Milly?'

‘Ma will manage somehow. I've seen to it that she has a girl to help in the house and men in the yard. If she wanted she could run the farm herself.'

‘A new life? You would do that for me, Tom?'

‘I should never have married Mary Jane. You were the one I wanted – right from the day you caught your skirt on the briars.'

‘That seems so long ago.'

‘It was another life. I should have swept you up and run off with you then, Roz.'

‘I wish you had.' She looked at him sadly. ‘I may not have Rushden Towers but I have some money. We might start a little business of some kind.'

‘I wouldn't mind running an inn if we could afford it. It would only take a few hundred pounds – and I'll make money for you. I'll give you back every penny.'

‘Hush.' Roz placed her fingers to his lips. ‘The money isn't yours or mine. It's just there while we need it. We'll think of it as the child's.'

‘What if you have a son? Harry's son would inherit.'

‘If I was certain it was his.'

He stared at her, stunned.

‘You think it might be mine?'

‘I'll never be certain. Does it make a difference?' He shook his head in wonder. He'd never thought that he could be the father of Roz's child. ‘I wish I could tell you it is your child but I can't.'

‘You were married to him. We'll know as the child grows because blood will out.'

‘We're going, then?'

‘What about your mother? She has to leave the dower house, doesn't she?'

‘She will live with Julia. Philip's wife inherited her aunt's property. She took Mama with her.'

‘Then we'll go. It's Thursday now. I ought to make sure everything's in place as far as the farm goes. I could be ready by Sunday morning.'

‘You really mean it?'

‘I'm sure if you are?'

‘Yes.' Roz reached up to kiss him. ‘I'll bring the trap and come here on Sunday morning. Where shall we go?'

‘I've always fancied somewhere near the sea,' Tom said and there was a note of excitement in his voice. ‘You won't change your mind?'

‘No, I shan't do that. I love you, Tom Blake. If I'd known that I would never have wed Harry.'

‘I love you, Roz Thornton. I made a mistake when I married Mary Jane but now we have another chance and I intend to make the most of it.'

Roz's heart was racing as she packed her bags ready for the morning. She'd heard nothing from Tom since their meeting at the hay barn but she was confident he would meet her there on Sunday morning. It wasn't too late for them. Tom loved her as she loved him. They were going away and they would put the past behind them.

She smiled as she chose the gowns she would take with her. There was no point in selecting her best things because she would never wear her silk evening gowns. She was going to be an innkeeper's wife and the idea pleased her. Her mother would never speak to her again but Julia would understand.

Roz went across to her dressing table and picked up the box that contained her jewellery. The pain was so sudden and sharp that she gasped and bent over, clutching at her stomach. What was happening to her? Roz stared at herself in the little shield-shaped mirror, her eyes widening as she felt the trickle between her thighs and realized what it was. She was bleeding. Was it a miscarriage? Tom had told her she ought not to be driving the trap but she'd felt so well. She hadn't even thought of the consequences.

She must summon help. Turning towards the door she felt a pain much sharper than the first and her head swirled. She screamed loudly and then collapsed on the floor as she convulsed with pain.

She was losing her baby.

‘I'm so sorry, little one,' she whispered. ‘So very sorry. I didn't take care of you . . .'

The tears were running down her cheeks as the door opened and the housekeeper entered.

‘Mrs Rushden. What happened to you?'

‘I'm having a miscarriage. Please help me to bed and then send for the doctor . . .'

‘You can't leave us,' Ellen said and stared at Tom in dismay. ‘How am I going to manage all the work? Even with the girl you hired I've got as much as I can do here. I can't see to the land and the stock as well.'

‘Let Pa fend for himself more,' Tom said. ‘As for the land – sell it. Sell the stock and just keep a few pigs and some chickens. The money the land brings in will keep you going for a few years.'

‘And that's all you care about?'

‘It isn't that I don't care, Ma. You know how people talk. I can't ask Roz to come and live here – and I want to be with her.'

‘So we don't matter? What happens to your father and Carrie's girl – you can just forget about them, is that it?'

‘It has to be this way, Ma. You know I can't ask her here. You told me you'd walk out if I did . . .'

‘I didn't mean it, Tom. You know I didn't.' She caught hold of his arm. ‘Please don't leave us.'

‘It's all arranged, Ma. I'm meeting Roz at the hay barn. We're going off together this morning.'

‘Tom, think what you'll be giving up. Everything you've worked so hard for – the land and all the plans you had.'

‘It means nothing to me without her.'

‘Bring her here. Let people talk. What does it matter?'

‘I suppose I could ask.' Tom felt the justice of his mother's plea. ‘I'm not promising anything so don't set your hopes too high.'

They heard John Blake calling from upstairs. Ellen threw him another pleading look. ‘Please think about it. I must see to your father . . .' They heard the loud thump and looked at each other. ‘What's happened now?'

‘I'll take a look. It sounds as if he's had a fall.'

Running up the stairs, Tom entered his father's bedroom closely followed by his mother. John Blake was lying on the floor in a heap, his face hidden. Bending over him, Tom looked at his face and made a sound of disbelief.

‘I think he's gone. He must have had another stroke or something. By the look of him he choked to death on his own vomit.'

Ellen's face was white as she knelt over her husband's body and checked for signs of life.

‘You'd best send someone for the doctor to make sure – and then get off to meet your girl. This makes no difference, Tom. We've known it could happen and you've your own life to think of now.'

Tom was torn two ways. He ought to feel grief for his father but he couldn't. John Blake had been a hard man and he'd killed any love his wife and son might have had for him, but his death made it hard to leave right now.

‘I'll speak to Roz. We'll wait for a bit. If I sell the land and give you money you'll be able to move into the village and have neighbours to look out for you.'

‘I'll stay here with a couple of pigs and a few hens if it's all the same to you. Fetch that doctor, Tom – and tell your girl she's welcome here if she wants to come.'

Tom nodded and went out. If he didn't get off Roz would already be waiting.

It was as he was about to leave the farm that he saw the young lad waiting by the gate. If his memory served him right, he worked for Roz up at the Towers. He frowned. Had Roz sent to tell him she wasn't coming?

‘Tom . . .' Roz's head turned on the pillow. ‘I want to see Tom . . . please, I must see him. I must . . .'

‘What's that, madam?' The housekeeper touched a cool cloth to her brow. ‘If you mean Mr Blake, the lad took your note to him yesterday.'

‘Why doesn't he come? I feel so ill. Why doesn't anyone come?'

‘Mr Rushden sent a letter to your sister-in-law,' Mrs Martin soothed. ‘Lady Julia will come soon. You should rest now, madam.'

‘I want Tom. Why doesn't he come?'

Mrs Martin left the bedroom and went downstairs to the front parlour where a gentleman was standing before the fire. He had been staring into the flames but turned to look at her as she entered.

‘How is she, Mrs Martin?'

‘She is feverish, sir,' the housekeeper replied. ‘She keeps asking for Tom Blake.'

‘That fellow.' Keith Rushden looked displeased. ‘You have my instructions. He is not to be allowed to see her – and she is not to know he called here on Sunday.'

‘Are you sure that's the right thing to do, sir? She was crying and begging me to fetch him to her. Would it not be kinder to let him see her just for a while?'

‘Her life is in the balance. That man is not a suitable person for her to see. You will please obey me, Mrs Martin – if you wish to keep your position here?'

‘Yes, sir. I know you're the master here now that the mistress has lost the baby.'

‘I like loyal people about me, Mrs Martin. If you do as I ask there will be a bonus for you when this is over. Remember, I'm only doing what is best for your mistress. I may own this house and the estate but I have no intention of turning Mrs Rushden out, I assure you.'

‘Very well, sir. I just want what is best for her.'

‘I've heard that Mr Blake's father has just died. I'm sure he doesn't have the time to dance attendance on Mrs Rushden's whims.'

‘No, sir.'

‘I have business to attend for the moment. I shall return later to see what the doctor has to say when he visits.'

‘Yes, sir, of course.'

Mrs Martin stared after him as he went out. She stood for a moment and wondered what to do. He might think he held the whip hand but she wasn't so easily beaten – and she didn't wish to work for a master who thought his word was law no matter what. Mrs Rushden would give her a reference if she needed it and she liked the young woman too much to see her fretting.

Sitting down at her mistress's desk, she took out a sheet of paper and picked up a pen. Her writing wasn't perfect but Tom Blake would get the message and then it was up to him.

Tom looked at the note and frowned. He'd been denied access to Roz on Sunday when he'd gone in answer to her own message. He hadn't been sure why she didn't want to see him and had been on the verge of riding over and forcing his way into the house if he had to. Now he understood why he'd been turned away the last time.

He would have to make sure that he asked for Mrs Martin and that Keith Rushden was not in the house. The man would be gloating now that he had it all, but not satisfied with the money and the house, he wanted Roz too.

‘You look as if you've lost a shilling and found a farthing,' Ellen said as she entered the kitchen bearing a basket of clean linen. ‘Changed her mind, has she?'

‘No, Ma, she hasn't. I told you she'd lost the child. She's ill and wants to see me but Keith Rushden is trying to stop me visiting her.'

‘Why would he do that, then?'

‘Perhaps he doesn't think I'm good enough for her.'

‘What's it to do with him? You're good enough for anyone, Tom. Just because he's richer than you are it doesn't make him a better man.'

‘No, it doesn't. I'm going over there now, Ma. If she's well enough I might bring her back here.'

‘I'll put fresh sheets on Carrie's bed.' Ellen hesitated, then: ‘I'm sorry, Tom. Sorry for the things I've said and done. You've got a perfect right to sell your father's land and go off where you want.'

He nodded, a faint smile on his lips. ‘It depends on Roz. I shall do whatever she wants.'

Roz opened her eyes and looked at the man sitting on the edge of her bed. She blinked but when she looked again he was still there.

‘I thought you were a dream. I was feeling so ill and I wanted you but you didn't come.'

‘They wouldn't let me see you on Sunday. I came yesterday and I've been here all night. Your husband's cousin didn't like it much. I knocked him down and he went off in a huff. Told me this was his house and he'd thank me to get out, but I told him to make me and he couldn't.'

‘Oh, Tom . . .' Roz shook her head wearily. ‘I must've slept for hours. I was so tired. I feel as if I've been beaten all over.'

‘It isn't an easy thing to lose a child, Roz. I'm so very sorry, my love.'

‘The doctor told me not to worry because I would have more children,' Roz said, her throat caught with tears. ‘He didn't understand. A lost child hurts so terribly, Tom.'

‘I know, dearest. I know I can't do or say anything to make it better for you, but I'll be here when you want me.'

‘Keith will tell us to leave as soon as I'm able to leave my bed.'

‘He won't put you out until you're ready.'

‘As soon as I'm well enough to go out I want to leave here.' Roz reached for his hand. ‘Mrs Martin told me your father had died?'

‘He died on Sunday a short time before we were due to meet. I was going to ask you to wait until we buried him. The funeral is tomorrow morning.'

‘You must go, Tom. I'm so very sorry.'

‘He was frustrated at being confined to bed. We sometimes thought he was playing us up, but he had another seizure and this one killed him.'

‘What will you do now?'

‘The farm belongs to me, Roz. I can sell the land and let Ma live in the house until she decides she's had enough and moves into the village. It doesn't have to change what we planned.'