Old Sins Long Shadows (6 page)

Today he had joined her on her afternoon walk with Charlie
. He had accidently come across her as she walked along the moor and he had fallen into step beside her. She had asked after his horse, and he had told her of his hopes of buying a new one. He had teased her, flattered her and at one point took her hand to help her over a stile. He was polite and gallant and left her to walk the last part alone so as not to cause gossip that may harm her reputation. Janey felt safe with him, protected and charmed. It felt only natural when their paths crossed in the hall later in the day that he should pick a flower from a vase on the table, kiss its petals and hand it to her as a gift.

Janey wrote his name
, the ink once again sliding across the paper, sweeping elaborately the letters of his name. The action of writing his name brought him closer to her, forming an intimacy that was in fact growing as prolific as poison ivy.

James watched the amber coloured brandy move around the edges of his glass as he gently swirled the contents. He found a perverse pleasure in testing how close he could make the spirit touch the edge without it sloshing over. The pleasure was made the greater knowing his father would hate to see good brandy go to waste should it spill. This was borne out when his father finally snapped.

‘
Stop doing that James, you know it irritates me.’

James breathed in the aroma of his glass, filling his nostrils with vanilla that transformed to a mixture of wood, fruit and spices
. He took a mouthful and let it linger on his tongue before swallowing. If only all irritants could be blocked out with a glass of brandy, he mused. But they couldn’t and wouldn’t. His father was the latest irritant and he had heard this particular lecture before.

‘
Come, Father, I thought we were going to enjoy an after dinner brandy together. You should have warned me you would spend the entire time pacing up and down and preaching a sermon.’

‘
A sermon that has been long overdue,’ Lord Brockenshaw shot back. ‘Today William Menhennit called on me. He told me you owed him a large sum of money from a gambling debt. It was humiliating. Of course I paid him and apologised on your behalf.’ He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, ‘How many more people are going to knock on my door wanting payment for some misdemeanour you are responsible for?’

‘
He is no better. He’s a gambler too.’

‘
He’s a magistrate! He also has the money to throw away if he wants. You, on the other hand, do not. I do not. Your mother and I are to blame. We spoilt you.’  He placed his walking stick against the desk and eased himself down into a chair. ‘We chose not to have more children after her sight deteriorated but it meant you were our only child and was duly spoilt. I cannot keep paying your debts, James. It has got to stop.’

James poured himself another glass,
‘I really think, Father, you are taking this all too seriously. It is not unusual for a gentleman to owe money to someone, just take from one pot to pay the other.’

‘
You mean I take from my pot to pay for yours.’

James raised his glass in mock salute,
‘Yes, after all, what’s yours is mine.’

Lord Brockenshaw looked uncomfortable,
‘Not yet it isn’t. Anyway, what’s mine may not be as much as what you think it is.’

For the first time his father had James’s full
attention, ‘What do you mean?’

‘
I mean, James, that it takes money to run an estate such as this. When I inherited Bosvenna Manor it had thirty indoor staff, a thousand acres made up of numerous farms and moorland, plus money in the bank. Over the years the staff have dwindled, I’ve had to sell off a number of farms and,’ he looked pointedly at James, ‘I have a son who likes to gamble and waste money. You take it for granted that I pay you a large allowance, fund your lavish lifestyle and pay your debts.’

‘
Well, pardon me for breathing,’ mocked James.

His father thumped the desk with his fist
, ‘Damn you!  Do you take life seriously at all?’

‘No, as you do it for me,’ said James getting up to look out the window. ‘Does Mother know that you have sold so much land?’

‘
Our financial situation is not helped by your gambling debts and lavish spending habit,’ said his father. James waited for an answer. ‘No, she does not and I do not plan to tell her. She thinks the world of us and I couldn’t taint that view. Her last vision of you is of a cheeky, loving boy, not the rake you are now. I don’t want to be the one that spoils it for her.’  James nodded.

‘
The thing is, Father,’ he spread his arms out wide, ‘life is for living now. I really can’t see the point in working like a dog to keep an estate going that looses money like water through a sieve. I’m all for selling the place and buying a town house in the city. The country bores me, the people bore me.’

‘
Bosvenna Estate has been in our family for six generations!’ Lord Brockenshaw was incensed, ‘Have you no sense of loyalty, family pride, responsibility?  How are you going to explain to your son you sold his inheritance because you preferred to gamble and speculate in risky ventures?’

‘
As you did, Father, as you did. I know you lost a good deal of money to Philipp’s.’  James poured himself a third glass, ‘Next we hear this new “salt of the earth” business partner has left the country for America with the money and not the manners to say goodbye.’

‘
Don’t you think you’ve had enough?’ snapped his father. James swallowed the brandy and, as a man succumbing to the fog of inebriation has a tendency to do, placed his glass on the table with excessive care.

‘
You’re quite right, Father, I have had enough. Enough of your lecturing. I’m off to bed and, by the way, I’ve brought a new horse. It is being delivered next week and until it is delivered I plan to spend the week with Edward in Falmouth. I’m sure my presence will be appreciated more there than it seems to be here at the moment. Please inform mother that I will be gone in the morning. I fear that if I say goodbye I may be tempted to tell her all that has transpired here this evening.’  He smiled at his father, ‘We wouldn’t want her to learn that her husband is no better handling money than her son is, would we?’  He left the room and swept through the hall, leaving his father alone to contemplate the price of the horse and how he would explain to his wife why their son had left at such short notice.

Lady Brockenshaw received the news of James’s sudden departure with surprise but hid her hurt well that he had not told her himself. She hid it so well that on relaying the news to others it was with an air of matter of fact, as if it was inconsequential. So it was something of a shock to Janey to learn from Lady Brockenshaw the following morning that James had left and she did not know when he would be returning.   Janey had been putting away some gowns when there was a knock on Lady Brockenshaw’s door and the housekeeper entered.

‘
Today’s menu, ma’am. May I read it to you?’ said Miss Petherbridge as she approached her mistress. Lady Brockenshaw waved her hand to stop her.

‘
My son has left. Inform cook we shall not need the quantity as originally thought and perhaps something a little lighter.’ 

Janey hesitated over what she was doing but quickly
regained her composure. She was able to hide her surprise from her mistress but Miss Petherbridge had noticed and took a perverse pleasure at seeing her pain.

‘
May I be as bold as to ask when he will be returning, so his quarters can be prepared accordingly?’ she asked, watching Janey all the time. She noted her hands shaking and her ineffectual attempt at hanging a dress. She made a mental note that the Carhart girl seemed particularly affected by the news of his departure.

‘
A week - no more. I will inform you when I know the exact day, Miss Petherbridge. Now on a lighter note…the church roof is in need of repair and Reverend Smith is raising funds by having a dance in the village hall a day after the harvest festival service. The more people who attend, the more money they will raise. I have therefore decided to grant all the staff, who wish to attend, an evening off. That includes you Miss Petherbridge.’

Miss P
etherbridge visibly bristled, ‘I don’t think a dance is my cup of tea, ma’am, but I thank you for the generous offer.’ She looked anything but grateful. Lady Brockenshaw held out her hand and called for Janey who came to her and touched her hand to let her know she was there. Miss Petherbridge looked away with disgust.

‘
Janey, I insist you go, and all the other staff who wish to. We can manage for one evening with skeleton staff. I will go to bed early so Janey can go.’ Janey opened her mouth to speak but her mistress cut her off, ‘I insist as I want you to tell me all about it the following day. So it is settled. Now if you will leave, Miss Petherbridge, I can continue to get ready.’ 

Miss Petherbridge left the room, annoyance etched on her face
. She would inform the staff of Lady Brockenshaw’s offer after the main meal this evening. She had no doubt the younger members of staff would be thrilled, but she would not be attending the dance. She found the whole shenanigans unpalatable. She saw no good from allowing staff time off to attend dances, no matter the cause. It would breed insolence and laziness and standards would drop if Miss Petherbridge did not keep an eye on things.

Chapter 4

It was the evening of the harvest festival dance and the servants were gathered in the servant’s hall. A buzz of excitement simmered amongst them as they waited for Miss Petherbridge to arrive and give her consent for them to leave the estate. Eventually, after what seemed like an age, she entered the room with Mr Tallock, the butler.

‘
Here are the officers ready to inspect their troops,’ whispered Mary.

Janey suppressed a smile as she watched Miss Petherb
ridge stand before them and looked over the staff with distaste. It was plain on her face she did not agree with the arrangement. She paced slowly across the room, backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards.

‘
Here we go,’ sighed Mary and indeed it began.

‘
It is very considerate of Lord and Lady Brockenshaw to allow this unprecedented favour and allow you time - additional time,’ she emphasised, ‘to attend the dance.’ She stopped and turned to the group, her hands clasped before her, ‘May I remind you all,’ she looked pointedly at Mary, ‘that you are representing Bosvenna Estate and I therefore expect you to act accordingly. There must be no drunkenness, no gossiping and no followers. The doors will be locked at eleven thirty.’ A groan could be heard from somewhere at the back so Miss Petherbridge repeated herself to ensure there was no confusion, ‘Eleven thirty. If you wish to stay out later you must make alternative arrangements. There will be no excuse if those of you who are working tomorrow are not at your posts prompt, sober, clean and tidy. Do I make myself clear?’  The group responded that they had. ‘Then there is no more to be said. You may go.’  The group were about to move when, with a lift of her hand, she stopped them. Looking straight at Janey, she added, ‘I understand, Carhart, Lady Brockenshaw instructed you to attend so she can receive a report on the dance from you. I wish you a successful evening.’ 

A heavy silence fell on the room
. Miss Petherbridge had cunningly alienated Janey from the group with a few choice words. Janey was stunned. A physical divide opened up between her and the rest of the staff as they moved away from her, leaving Janey to follow on behind.

Last to leave the room, Janey turned to the hous
ekeeper and asked, ‘Why? Why did you do that?’  Miss Petherbridge ignored her and turned away but not before Janey saw the smile on her lips.

‘
I’m sorry,’ mouthed Mr Tallock, who had been standing quietly by her side. He appeared uneasy and could not look her in the eye.

‘
So am I,’ replied Janey, ‘so am I.’

The September evening was warm and a thousand stars, sparkling like precious diamonds, littered the clear black sky. Only in the depths of the countryside was the night sky so beautiful and vast, displaying infinite galaxies like fine jewellery. The wooden patten shoes the girls wore on their soles to protect their best boots, made a rhythmical beat on the road surface. The footfalls of the servants echoed down the country road as they walked on mass to the neighbouring village. Janey followed behind feeling isolated from the group. The mature servants had chosen not to attend as they felt the dance was for the younger generation.