Meridon (Wideacre Trilogy 3) (39 page)

‘Nothing, Lady Clara,’ I said. I was scarlet up to the eyebrows. ‘Nothing happened.’

She took me by the elbow and dragged me over to the window. ‘Sarah! Quick! Tell me what took place,’ she hissed.

‘He grabbed me and tried to kiss me,’ I said. I hesitated. I did not know how to tell her what had happened in genteel language.

‘And then?’ Lady Clara prompted urgently. ‘Sarah! The man is one of the richest gentlemen in England and he is rolling on the sofa in his mama’s house! What the devil has happened?’ She clutched my arm hard and her eyes suddenly widened. ‘Don’t say you hit him!’ she moaned.

‘No,’ I said. ‘I kneed him in the balls. He’ll recover.’

Lady Clara let out a shriek of laughter and clapped her gloved hand over her mouth at once. ‘Never say that again,’ she said through her fingers. ‘We are leaving at once.’

She tucked my hand under her arm and swept me from the room without pausing to say a word to Sir Rupert. She nodded regally to his mama from the other side of the ballroom but did not deign to bid her farewell. A surprised link boy was sent flying for our carriage. Lady Clara would not let me speak until we were in our own house with the door closed behind us, then she sank down into a chair in the hallway and laughed until she gasped for breath. When she lifted her head I saw her eyes were streaming.

‘Oh Sarah!’ she said. ‘I would not have missed tonight for the world! Never do that again Sarah! Scream or faint or have the vapours. But don’t do that,’ she paused. ‘Unless it’s a common man of course. But never attack anyone over the level of a squire.’

‘No, Lady Clara,’ I said obediently.

She looked at me keenly and stripped off her evening gloves and smoothed the skin under her eyes. ‘Did he offer to marry you?’ she asked acutely.

‘Before he grabbed me,’ I said. ‘Yes, he did.’

‘But you are betrothed,’ she said.

‘I didn’t forget it,’ I said. ‘He asked me to break my promise to Perry and I said I would not.’

‘You prefer Perry,’ her ladyship stated.

‘Yes,’ I said truthfully. ‘I do.’

‘Even though Sir Rupert is good-looking and pleasant,’ she said.

I paused. ‘He is,’ I agreed. ‘But I think Perry suits me better.’

I would have said nothing more, but Lady Clara was curious.

‘Why?’ she asked. ‘Why Perry rather than Sir Rupert?’

‘Sir Rupert is passionate,’ I said. ‘He thinks he is in love with me. He would want his passionate love returned. I cannot do that.’

‘And Perry is content with nothing,’ Lady Clara said, her lip curled slightly.

‘Perry and I are friends,’ I said defensively.

‘You have never kissed, he has never touched you?’ Lady Clara asked.

I felt myself blush slightly. ‘We neither of us want that,’ I said. ‘It is our decision.’

She nodded. ‘Does he have a woman?’ she asked. She rose from the chair and slung her fur wrap down and went to the stairs.

‘No!’ I said, surprised. I had thought of Perry for so long as a man quite without desire that I was almost shocked that his mother – whose view of him was so acute – should have thought him capable of having a mistress.

She paused, one delicate satin-shod foot on the lower step. ‘I suppose he can get an heir?’ she asked crudely. ‘He’s not impotent, d’you think, Sarah?’

My face was as hard as hers. ‘He knows his duty,’ I said. ‘He knows he has to.’

Her face softened and she smiled. ‘That’s all right then,’ she said, as if the inheritance were all that mattered. ‘Good-night, my dear.’

I said good-night and watched her as she went lightly up the stairs to her room and shut her door.

I thought of the show and of the women I had seen with Da. Of Zima and of Katie the whore. And I thought that never in my life had I seen a woman as beautiful and as cold-hearted as
the woman who was to be my new mama, when I married her son.

The late nights did not make me weary. I woke every morning when the clatter of the street outside my bedroom started, and the day after the ball was sunny and I was glad to be up early and take Sea out to the park.

The weather was getting colder. I shivered as Sea trotted down the cobbled road towards the park. The groom beside me had a blue muffler around a blue chin and looked as if he would have preferred another hour in his bed.

Sea’s ears were back, as they always were when we were riding in town, but they suddenly went forward and he gave a ringing neigh of welcome as a square figure on a heavy bay horse pulled up as if waiting for us at the end of the road.

‘Will Tyacke!’ I declared, and my heart lifted with delight.

He was beaming, his face bright with joy at seeing me, and I reached out my hand to shake his. If we had not been on horseback I would have flung my arms around his neck and hugged him.

‘How are you?’ he said at once. ‘How are they treating you here? You look pale, are you happy here?’

I laughed and put my hand on his shoulder. ‘Stop!’ I said. ‘I am quite well. I was out late last night so perhaps I do look tired, but I am happy enough. Is everything all right on Wideacre?’

‘Aye,’ he said. ‘Well enough. We’ve ploughed and planted winter crops. The apples did well, and the plums. We’ve enough feed and wheat to get through the winter. Things are well at home.’

I swallowed a lump in my throat. Will seemed like a messenger from another world, I could almost smell the cold autumn air of Wideacre on him. I thought of the house nestling in the parkland and the trees turning yellow and gold. I thought of the beech trees going purple and dark and the animals coming down from the higher fields.

‘Does the land look nice?’ I asked. It was a foolish question but I did not have the right words.

Will’s smile was understanding. ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘The roses at the Hall are still flowering though it’s getting late in the year. The Fenny is high, you’d hardly recognize it. The trees are turning colour and all the swallows are gone. The owls call very loud at nights. The moon has been very bright and yellow. I miss you.’

I drew my breath in with a little hiss and froze. Will’s gaze dropped from my face to his horse’s mane. ‘I’ve come to town on business of my own,’ he said. ‘But I promised myself I could come and find you and tell you this. I understand that you wanted your Season, that you wanted to see what the Quality life was like.’

He paused and then went on softly, persuasively. ‘You’ve seen it now, you’ve seen it all. You’ve been to balls and danced with lords. Now you should come home. I’m come to tell you that, and I’ll escort you home if you’ve had enough of being here. Your bedroom is ready at the Hall. You could be home by nightfall. We’d all be glad to see you back.’

A cart loaded with milk churns came noisily down the street and Sea flinched and I had to steady him. ‘Come to the park with me,’ I said. ‘Sea needs exercise.’

Will nodded at the groom. ‘I’ll take her,’ he said. ‘Away and get yourself something to eat. You look half clemmed.’

‘I am that,’ the man said gratefully and pulled his dirty cap in my direction. ‘Shall I come round to the house for the horse when you’ve finished your ride, Miss Lacey?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I’ll bring him back.’

He wheeled his horse and trotted down the street back to the stables, and Will and I turned towards the park, riding abreast.

Will told me other news of Wideacre, a baby had been born and was to be called ‘Sarah’, the vicar had been away for a week and was greatly put out on his return to find no one had attended church for the curate he had installed in his absence. A vagrant had come through the village begging and had stolen all the linen off the washing lines. The gypsies were back on the Common where they always camped. They were early which was the sign of a hard winter.

‘Everything the same as ever,’ Will said with a smile.

We rode side by side in a sedate canter. Sea remembered the races on Downland and Common and threw up his head and wanted to gallop but I held him back.

‘And you?’ Will asked. ‘Is it how you expected?’

I shrugged. ‘It passes the time,’ I said. I shot a sideways look at him and then I told him how it was in truth. I told him about the pleasures of the new life: the dresses, the hats, the morning rides. I told him about the extraordinary people who were accepted as normal in this odd new world. I told him about the young men, and I made him laugh until he had to cling to his horse’s mane when I told him about Sir Rupert left gasping on the sofa clutching his balls.

‘And Lady Havering? And Lord Peregrine?’ Will asked. ‘Are they good to you?’

I hesitated. ‘As much as they can be,’ I said. ‘Lady Clara is as cold as ice. I’ve met kindlier women laying-out paupers. She cares for nothing but the Havering estate and the succession.’

Will nodded. ‘I heard she cared for her oldest son well enough,’ he said. ‘The one that died.’

‘Aye,’ I said crudely. ‘Men are always more lovable when they’re dead!’

Will laughed at that. ‘But Lord Peregrine,’ he said and his voice was carefully bright. ‘Do you see much of him now? Is the engagement still on?’

I nodded. I did not look at him. ‘The contracts are with the lawyers,’ I said. ‘I will marry him, you know.’

Will was looking straight ahead, down a little avenue where the pale yellow fronds of the chestnut trees made an archway over our heads. We were quite alone and the clatter of the town in the early morning seemed far away.

‘I thought you might meet someone you fancied better,’ he said. ‘I thought you were using him to get yourself comfortable in London – that you’d throw him over when you were settled.’

I smiled a little wry smile. ‘You think highly of me, don’t you?’ I asked.

He shrugged. ‘It won’t be the first time a girl’s jilted a
milksop,’ he said. ‘I thought when you had a chance to look around you’d see someone you fancied more.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever have a fancy for a man.’

‘Hard luck on the man who loves you,’ Will offered neutrally.

‘Very,’ I said. I shot a sideways look at him. ‘A disaster for the man who loves me,’ I repeated. ‘If he married me he would find me always cold. If he did not he could waste his life in loving me and I would never return it.’

‘Because you loved her, and now she is dead?’ he asked very quietly.

I flinched as soon as he even neared the pain that was as sharp and fresh inside me as the evening she died.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Perhaps because of that. But even before, long before that, I think it was already spoiled for me.’

‘Lord Peregrine gets short measure then,’ Will said.

I smiled. ‘He gets what he wants,’ I said. ‘He’s cold. He doesn’t like women much. He’s mortal feared of his ma, he likes me because I don’t fuss him and want petting.’

‘He’s an odd one,’ Will suggested.

I frowned. ‘He’s a drunkard, I think,’ I said. ‘And I think he’s a gambler. He was well enough in the country, but now he is out every night and I think gambling has a hold on him.’

I paused, thinking of men I had seen at fairgrounds losing everything they owned on the turn of a card. ‘I am afraid it might get to him,’ I said. ‘I should like to take him away.’

There was an open stretch of grass before us. We let the horses’ stride lengthen and then Sea threw his head up. I caught his wildness in a moment and in my mind, my gypsy-brat voice said, ‘Damn the rules,’ and I let Sea go. The ground seemed to leap from under us, and I heard Will yell with pleasure behind us as his horse gave chase. We were in the lead, and Sea was going as if he wanted to gallop all the way to Sussex. I had to steady him, I had to pull him up. We were nearly by the road which intersects the park. It would have caused talk if I had been seen galloping, and that with a working man.

Sea blew out softly, but he was not winded. He could have
gone on for hours. I could tell by the feel of him that he was puzzled that we had stopped so soon.

Will’s big bay thundered up to us and spattered us with mud as Will pulled him up.

‘That’s better!’ Will said. ‘That’s the first real smile I’ve seen on your face since I’ve been here! You should gallop more often, Sarah.’

I shook my head, still smiling. ‘I’m not allowed,’ I said.

Will said something under his breath which sounded like an oath. ‘Not allowed!’ he said. ‘You’re the squire of Wideacre. Why take these damned rules? Why take this hopeless man? You say yourself he’s a drunkard and a gambler. Haven’t you had enough sorrow and trouble without taking on a fool as well?’

I turned Sea’s head homeward, and I bit back a quick and angry reply.

‘I need to run my own land,’ I said carefully. ‘I need a husband so I can live as I please without Mr Fortescue’s old chaperone, or anyone bothering me.’

Will nodded, but looked like he wanted to interrupt.

‘I can’t marry an ordinary man,’ I said. ‘You know why. I’d drive an ordinary man mad within a week. I’ve no love to give, and I want none. I can manage Perry. I can keep him from gambling and from the drink when we live in the country. It doesn’t matter that he is a weak fool. He’s kind-hearted enough, he’s gentle with me. I can manage him. He is the only husband I could deal with.’

Will looked at me carefully. ‘He might like lads,’ he said bluntly. ‘Had you thought of that?’

‘What?’ I asked. I pulled Sea up and stared blankly at Will. ‘Lads?’

Will cleared his throat in embarrassment. ‘Don’t be so daft, Sarah, for the Lord’s sake,’ he begged me. ‘I just thought you should think about it. He might like lads. You know. He might be a gentleman of the back door. You know!’

I exploded in a shout of laughter. ‘A what? A gentleman of the what?’

Will was scarlet with embarrassment. ‘Now have done, Sarah,’
he said. ‘You should think about this. You’re going to marry him and you won’t always have his ma there to keep him in order. If he gets drunk he might ill-treat you. If he likes lads he could fill the house with them and there’s no one to say him nay. He could get the pox and give it to you. Think about it, for God’s sake!’

I sobered then, and nodded. ‘Thank you,’ I said frankly. ‘Thank you for thinking of me. I had not thought that Perry might like lads. I will consider it. But for me it is no great disadvantage. I don’t want a normal husband, I want one that will leave me alone. He’s told me we have to get an heir and then we will not bed together again. That’s a bargain for me in return for a gentry husband and an estate next door to Wideacre.’