Polly's Story (18 page)

‘Here’s my handkerchief,’ he said, offering it to me. ‘And it happens to be the very same one I leant you twelve months ago! It has been to the laundry since then, you’ll be glad to hear.’

He could always manage to make me laugh, although this time again the tears were not far away. And after I’d swallowed the lump in my throat and wiped my eyes, I did share with him the reason for my sadness - bearing Mrs Henderson’s warning in mind but knowing the confidence would go no further. I felt it was right to tell him what had become of Iris, since he had been so fond of her. I didn’t mention the baby and he didn’t ask about that.

‘It is too bad to think of Iris in the workhouse,’ he said. ‘She was always clean and neat, and never so much as a spoon out of place in the still room. Well, I am very sorry for the poor girl. No wonder you are so sad.’

‘And you will be too,’ I said. ‘I know she was your particular - I mean, I know you thought very highly of her, as she did of you.’

‘Iris didn’t trouble herself over much on my account,’ he said. ‘And she was not my particular, if you want to call it that.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ I stammered, feeling foolish. ‘I thought - Well, it doesn’t matter now what I thought.’

We stared down at the valley for another little while. And then William turned to me and said, ‘I do have a particular, although it was never Iris.’

‘Oh,’ I said, not quite sure what he meant, and why he should be looking at me in that strange, intent way. Since the question was clearly expected, I asked, ‘Who is your particular, then?’

‘Why, it is you, of course,’ he replied, with a smile that would melt stone. ‘Surely you must know that? From the first moment I saw you, marching down the corridor in that extraordinary dress with your eyes spitting fire and your cheeks all rosy and your hair falling out of its pins. That’s the girl for me, I thought, and I have not had reason to change my mind since then. So what do you have to say about that, Miss Perkins?’

I had absolutely no idea. ‘But I’m only fifteen,’ I said. It was the first thing that came into my head.

‘I know. And I’m eighteen. That is not such a great difference.’

‘I don’t want to leave Swallowcliffe - not for a while, at least.’ Oh dear. Surely I could come up with a better remark than that!

‘Neither do I. All I am thinking is that perhaps we might happen to meet up here or in some other quiet place now and then, and pass the time of day. Come the summer, I might even walk over to your village from mine and pay my respects to your family. Do you think that would be all right?’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I think it would be perfectly fine. In fact, I should like it very much.’

‘Good. Then that’s settled.’ If only he would stop smiling at me like that! No wonder I could hardly think straight.

We might have gone on to say all sorts of other things, but suddenly William stared down at the valley. ‘Look!’ he said, taking my arm. ‘That’s very strange.’

A man on horseback was riding towards the house - not in a roundabout, coming-home-tired-from-the-hunting sort of way, but galloping hell for leather. ‘It’s Master Rory, I think,’ William said, narrowing his eyes at the distant figure. ‘I hope nothing’s wrong.’

It was time we were getting back anyway, so I sent William down the hill first, waited five minutes and then ran along the path myself. Please God let Harriet and Miss Brookfield be all right, I prayed - which was dreadful of me, I know. About halfway back to the Hall, I saw Rory galloping back the way he had come on a fresh horse, and the carriage tearing along the drive behind him. That whirling feeling in the pit of my stomach grew stronger.

‘There you are!’ Mary said, as soon as she caught sight of me. ‘Quickly, make up the fire in Master Edward’s room. And take these extra sheets and towels with you. Megan’s already up there.’ She thrust a pile of clean linen into my arms.

‘What is it?’ I asked her. ‘Whatever’s happened?’

‘Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies. Just hurry along and do as I say.’

She might as well have told me straight out what was the matter, since we all found out soon enough anyway, but there you are. It turned out that there had been an accident, and a bad one too: Master Edward’s horse had thrown him off at a hedge and then rolled over on top of him. They brought him back on a stretcher and took him up to his bedroom.

‘How bad is he, do you think?’ Megan whispered to me as we went back downstairs. All we could find out was that he was still unconscious, and it remained to be seen when - or if - he would come round. Luckily the doctor was a keen huntsman and not more than five minutes away on his own horse, which was a blessing. We’d done everything we could to help Master Edward; now God would have to take care of the rest. Lord and Lady Vye were at his bedside, as was his brother Rory. It had been thought too upsetting an experience for Harriet, although I knew she would have wanted to be there, especially with her medical ambitions.

I tapped on Miss Brookfield’s door later that evening to see if she needed anything. Lady Vye had told Mrs Bragg that dinner was not to be served downstairs, but that her guests might like a light supper on a tray in their rooms. There was no reply, so I opened the door a little way. Miss Brookfield was sitting staring into the distance. She didn’t notice me come in, and I had to ask her twice whether she wanted anything to eat before she could think what to reply.

‘Don’t worry, Miss,’ I told her, seeing she was in need of some comfort and apparently no one to give it but me. ‘He will be all right, you’ll see. The Vyes are a tough old breed - that’s why the family’s lasted for all these years.’

‘But what if he isn’t? You don’t understand!’ She buried her face in her hands. ‘This is all my fault! If Edward dies, it is down to me.’

‘How can that be, Miss?’ I asked, thinking she had taken leave of her senses. ‘You couldn’t make an accident happen.’

‘We were riding along together, the three of us,’ she said. ‘Rory jumped the hedge first and I followed. It was high, but my horse wanted to take it and I let him have his head. Why didn’t I think? I should have known the jump was too much for Edward, and that he would have died rather than admit it. Well, now he might - die, that is. If I’d turned back, this would never have happened.’

‘But you said so yourself: it was Master Rory who went over the hedge first, not you. If anyone has to take the blame, it should be him.’

‘I shouldn’t have followed Rory,’ she whispered. ‘Edward was bound to come after us. I knew those boys had some silly competition over me and I should have put a stop to it well before now.’

‘Master Edward and Master Rory have been rivals from the moment Rory was born,’ I told her, repeating something I’d heard Mrs Henderson say. ‘They are always fighting over something, and perhaps this time it was you. But that makes this accident no more your fault than it was the fault of the fat brown trout that Rory fell in the lake, trying to land him before Edward could.’

She laughed. ‘I’ll tell you something else,’ I said, ‘if you’ll forgive my impertinence. Be careful of Rory Vye, Miss. He will break your heart and not think twice about it.’

She stared at me for a long moment. ‘Whatever makes you say that?’

‘Because I’ve seen the damage he can cause,’ I said. ‘He destroyed somebody who was very dear to me, and I couldn’t bear to let him hurt you too. Follow your head this time, Miss Brookfield.’

There, I had done it now. But if I had not told her what I thought of Master Rory, I should never have forgiven myself.

Six months have passed since Edward’s accident. It’s a warm day in June, and we are gathered in a semi-circle around the front entrance at Swallowcliffe. ‘Lovely day for a wedding,’ somebody mutters for the hundredth time, gazing up at the bright blue sky. We are waiting for the bride to come out and climb into the barouche that will take her to the village church, where her groom and guests are waiting. The carriage has been garlanded with roses and orange blossom, and the four grey horses have their manes plaited and tied with white ribbons. There are flowers in every room of the Hall, because the wedding breakfast will take place here after the service. At first they wanted to hold the ceremony in our little chapel, but it was nowhere near big enough for so many guests. We shall be more than twenty in the house over the next few days, and a noisy lot those Americans are too.

‘Here she is,’ Megan whispers, clutching my arm. ‘Oh, there’s beautiful!’

I hadn’t been able to help Miss Brookfield dress this morning; now she’s almost a grand married lady, a proper maid has been found for her from Paris. ‘She is rather hoity toity,’ Miss Brookfield whispered to me when I brought up her hot water last night, ‘but maybe we shall get used to each other in time. If only you were a few years older, Polly! But Lady Vye said I couldn’t possibly go on having a maid of fifteen.’

‘Sixteen now, Miss,’ I said, as if that made any difference.

‘To think this is the last night I shall go to bed as Kate Brookfield,’ she said, sighing. ‘Well, I hope I’m doing the right thing.’

I can just make out her face through the cloudy veil as she walks past on her father’s arm, looking very solemn and serious. William opens the door of the barouche and up she climbs, the French maid holding the long train of her dress so that it won’t tear and then arranging it carefully around her feet. She waves to us and we all wave back, and then somebody cheers, which Mr Goddard looks a bit cross about at first, but before long everyone is cheering and clapping and he’s joined in just as heartily as the rest. There can’t be a single person here who isn’t delighted Miss Brookfield is marrying our Master Edward, especially after everything he has been through, and what could be wrong with showing it?

It took him a long time to get over that accident. For two weeks we didn’t know which way the dice would fall. Apparently the horse had done a great deal of damage when it rolled on top of him - which stands to reason, I suppose, a great heavy animal like that. And then slowly, he began to get better. There had to be a nurse with him most of the time and the family took turns sitting at his bedside too, Miss Brookfield included. She wouldn’t go back to America until she knew he was on the mend, and somehow the date for her return kept slipping further and further back. At last her mother went home without her, and we had a good idea then how the land lay. She and Master Edward had spent a great deal of time together, and Master Rory had eventually been told to rejoin his regiment so he wasn’t around to complicate matters. I am sure he didn’t want to go and leave Miss Brookfield alone with his brother, but there was nothing much he could do. Serve him right! That’s what I thought. Let him see for once what it’s like to want something and not have it, just like the rest of us. He’s the only one not to look happy this morning, but I can’t find it in my heart to feel any sympathy at the sight of his miserable face. I’m glad to think of him in pain, after all the suffering he has caused others.

William and Thomas climb up beside the coachman and the carriage pulls away. I know William would dearly like to wink at me but of course he can’t in front of all these people. How fine he looks this morning! I don’t know why he should be so fond of me, but I’m very glad he is. We’re better friends than ever and, although we have to be careful about being seen together at the Hall, he is to come and visit me when I am home at Little Rising for my week’s holiday later in the summer. I plan to call in at the Rectory and see how young Ralph is doing. My mother wrote to tell me that the Chadwicks had taken in a foundling baby, and you never saw such a beautiful child. He is the apple of their eye, apparently, and not yet been heard to cry.

Iris would be so proud of her son; I hope somewhere she’s looking down on him and knows he is happy. I’m saving up to have a headstone made for her grave. That is all I can do for my friend now, but I’ll watch over Ralph for the rest of my life. I’ll help him in any way I can, for her sake - and maybe one day I shall shame his wretched father into providing for the boy.

I will never forgive Rory Vye for what he has done.

Swallowcliffe Hall

2

Grace’s Story

Find out what happens when the fortunes of Swallowcliffe Hall and the Vye family are turned upside down by the coming of World War One in 1914. Polly’s daughter Grace is working as a kitchenmaid but, unlike her mother, she doesn’t enjoy life inside the house; she’d much rather be working in the stables with the horses. Cricket teas and shooting-party luncheons will soon become a distant memory, however. Tragedy comes to the Hall as Lord and Lady Vye make their way home from America aboard the
Lusitania,
and life for everybody changes as trainloads of wounded soldiers also arrive to convalesce. In these heady times, Grace finds herself falling in love – with the wrong person. Can she break through the class system to find happiness, or is the old order still as strong as ever?