The Painter's Apprentice (9 page)

‘I am surprised that your father allowed your uncle to make such a decision.’

Anne hesitated a moment. ‘My uncle is dead now but he was a man of considerable influence.’

They sat in silence again until, in desperation, Beth said, ‘Father always says that if you are miserable the best thing is
to keep busy. ‘Come on, we shall go to the kitchen.’ Ignoring Anne’s startled expression, she took her hand and pulled her
from the room.

The servants were putting away the last pots and pans after dinner.

‘Peg,’ said Beth, ‘Mistress Morley and I are going to make some jumbals, if we won’t be in your way?’

‘You carry on. I intend to put my feet up until it’s time to prepare supper.’

Beth took a small book down from a shelf and opened it. ‘This is my Grandmother Elizabeth’s recipe book,’ she said. ‘And this
is her recipe for jumbals.’

Anne read the recipe. ‘Shall I grind the sugar, while you wash the salt from the butter?’

Beth handed her an apron and fetched the ingredients from the larder. She watched in surprise as Anne carefully weighed the
sugar and set to with a will to pound the lumps out with the pestle and mortar.

Anne cut off a small piece from the cone of sugar and popped it into her mouth. ‘I love all sweet things,’ she said with a
small smile, ‘but I have a terrible weakness for sugar plums.’

Beth reflected that perhaps Anne and Poor Joan were not so very different in seeking consolation for their troubles.

‘I must confess,’ said Beth later on as she bit into one of the still-warm jumbals, ‘I thought you were too fine a lady to
turn your hand to baking but these are delicious.’

‘My governess taught me, along with her own daughters, to be useful in the kitchen,’ said Anne. ‘However many servants you
have, you never know when you may need a housewife’s skills.’

‘In that case, shall we help Phoebe peel the potatoes?’

Anne looked nonplussed as she glanced at the potato mountain waiting on the table but then rolled up her sleeves and set to
work. She glanced up at Beth as she wielded the knife and was overtaken by an unexplained fit of the giggles.

Beth suppressed a yawn. The parson was well known in the village for the length of his sermons and it wasn’t unusual, especially
during warm weather, for a cacophony of snores to reverberate around the church. This Sunday, however, the church was so cold
that you could see the vapour of the parson’s breath rising like hellfire from his mouth as he extolled the virtues of piety
and sobriety.

Anne, sitting beside Beth and warmly wrapped in her fur-lined cloak, seemed not to feel the cold but drank in every one of
the parson’s words, never taking her eyes off him. Since she didn’t own a fur-lined cloak, Beth was sincerely hoping that
Anne, a great deal more devout than herself, wouldn’t want her to go to evensong as well as morning service.

Beth was beginning to find Anne’s company a little claustrophobic. It wasn’t that she was difficult, only that she desired
Beth’s presence at all times. Beth was itching to go back to her painting but, on the occasion she had taken Anne into the
studio with her, it had proved impossible to concentrate on her work while her guest
chattered and exclaimed in delight. Besides, it made Johannes irritable.

‘When will you return to your studies?’ he’d asked fretfully that morning. ‘I need you to tidy the work table and clean the
brushes properly. ‘I can never find anything since you’ve abandoned me.’

She’d promised to come to the studio early every day before Anne had risen from her bed and that had placated him for the
time being.

At last the seemingly interminable sermon ended. The congregation roused itself from its torpor and rustled and coughed in
preparation for the next hymn. There was a slight disturbance at the back of the church and Cecily, sitting on Beth’s other
side, poked her in the ribs and nodded her head meaningfully.

Beth turned just in time to see Noah and Harry de Montford slip into a pew at the back.

Noah and Harry were waiting for them as they left the church. Noah made a deep bow to Anne, who fixed him with her gaze and
shook her head a little. ‘How do you do, Mr Leyton,’ she said, proffering her hand.

‘I see you have already made Mistress Morley’s acquaintance,’ said Susannah. ‘What a pleasant surprise to see you today, Noah.’

‘Mistress Morley? Why yes, indeed. We have met several times at Fulham Palace since we both know the Bishop of London,’ said
Noah. ‘May I introduce Mr de Montford? He accompanied me on the journey to England from Virginia. And Harry, you already know
Miss Ambrose and her sister Cecily.’

Cecily simpered and preened so, that Beth felt obliged to tread sharply on her toe.

‘Ow!’ Cecily glowered angrily at her sister.

‘Forgive me, Cecily,’ she said, smiling sweetly, ‘but Mama and Father are waiting for us and we should set off home. Noah,
you and Mr de Montford will stay for dinner, won’t you?’

‘How kind! Harry is travelling to visit friends later this afternoon but I wondered if I might invite myself to stay tonight
as I have business at Richmond Palace in the morning? Sir Christopher Wren has been asked to update the royal nursery and
he has sent me to make a preliminary survey.’

Anne drew in her breath and clutched at her cloak. ‘So, the King intends his papist brat to be brought up there once it arrives,
does he?’

Beth’s eyes widened at the harsh tone of Anne’s voice but Noah merely said, ‘Why, I believe so.’

‘The local people will not like the thought of a possible Catholic prince being brought up on their doorstep,’ said Beth.
‘
I
don’t like it and if Johannes should hear about it, after all he’s been through at the hands of the papists …’

Noah spread his hands wide. ‘There may be no prince. And my only interest in the royal nursery is not the child within it
but the considerable renovations required to the building. I expect to gain some valuable architectural experience.’

Ill at ease, Beth glanced at Anne, whose lips were set into a tight line but then the squire and his wife, Mistress Fanshawe,
came to shake their hands and make Mistress Morley and Mr de Montford’s acquaintance and she put the matter out of her mind.

‘And you won’t forget to come to the ball at Fanshawe Manor the day after tomorrow?’ said the squire, rubbing his hands together
in a vain attempt to keep warm.

‘How could we possibly forget?’ said Cecily. ‘Nothing
ever
happens in the country and the ball is the most exciting event. Mama is making me a new dress.’

‘I’m sure you will look delightful, Miss Cecily. And perhaps Mistress Morley and Mr Leyton and Mr de Montford would care to
join us? The more the merrier, I say!’

They said their goodbyes and Harry de Montford took Cecily’s arm on the walk back to Merryfields. Beth was too preoccupied
with
watching his flattery reduce Cecily to speechless giggles to listen to any other conversation.

There was a welcoming fire in the great hall and, shivering, Anne and Beth reached out their hands to the flames. They were
soon joined by Harry and Noah with Cecily following close behind.

‘Mr de Montford has promised to play cards with us after dinner,’ said Cecily.

‘You want to watch out for him,’ warned Noah. ‘
Somehow
or other very few people ever beat Harry at cards.’

Harry de Montford raised one eyebrow and his dark eyes gleamed. ‘Are you accusing me of cheating, Noah?’

‘Of
course
he isn’t!’ said Cecily.

‘Perhaps I sometimes encourage Fortune to smile my way,’ said Harry, ‘but I would never cheat a beautiful lady such as yourself.’

Then the servants carried in a roast sucking pig surrounded by glazed apples, followed by a succession of pies and other delicious
dishes and everyone sat down to enjoy them.

‘Isn’t it lucky that we are having such a rich feast since Mistress Morley is here,’ whispered Cecily to Beth. ‘I should have
been mortified if we’d only been able to offer Mr de Montford turnip soup.’

After dinner the young people retired to the solar where they played cribbage and other card games but after a while, Cecily
threw down her hand of cards. ‘Noah was right,’ she pouted. ‘No one can beat you, Mr de Montford. I propose we play something
different. I know, blind man’s buff!’

Kit produced a large handkerchief which Beth tied around Harry’s eyes before she spun him three times.

John and Noah darted at Harry, prodding him on the shoulder while he moved with his hands outstretched as the others formed
a circle around him. Harry lunged forward and caught at John’s coat but it slipped through his fingers.

Cecily squealed in glee and Harry turned towards her. ‘Aha! I am coming to catch you, Miss Cecily!’

Cecily squealed again, dodging his grasping hands, and Harry caught hold of Anne.

‘Who have we here?’ drawled Harry, as he pulled her towards him. ‘Oh, not Miss Cecily, I believe.’ He leaned closer and sniffed.
‘Lavender, if I’m not mistaken.’ Anne stood, frozen, while he ran his fingers over her cheeks. ‘Miss Ambrose!’ declared Harry
triumphantly.

Everyone laughed.

‘Wrong!’ called out Kit as Harry pulled off his blindfold.

Beth took the blindfold and whispered to Anne, ‘You don’t have to play if you prefer not to.’

Anne shook her head. ‘No. I want to.’

Beth spun her three times and pushed her gently into the circle.

Anne reached out blindly and brushed against Noah but he was too quick for her. John boldly touched her on the arm; she caught
her breath and whirled around. A moment or two later, giggling as the others taunted her and then dodged away, she snatched
hold of Kit’s arm. ‘I have you!’ She ran her hands over his hair. ‘It’s John,’ she said. ‘Or perhaps …’ She fumbled at the
buttons on Kit’s coat. ‘No, it’s Kit.’ She pulled off her blindfold, her eyes sparkling. ‘I can tell because I noticed earlier
that you have a button missing.’

Beth watched Anne with amazement as she joined in the silly game and then, at the end of it, sank on to a chair, breathless
with laughter.

‘It makes me happy to see you laugh, Anne,’ said Beth as they watched Noah and John set up the draughts board.

‘I remembered what you said about imagining Merryfields as an island shelter in my sea of grief and this afternoon I have
put aside my sadness. It is strange how that foolish game has put me in cheerful spirits again.’

Beth squeezed Anne’s hand. ‘There is something magical in the air of Merryfields, I believe.’

Shortly afterwards Harry took his leave to visit his friends and Cecily moped by the fire for the rest of the afternoon.

Joseph came to light the candles as the evening began to draw in. Since Anne was engaged in trouncing John in a game of draughts,
Beth took the opportunity to slip away, intending to see if Johannes was still working in the studio. Treading softly along
the gallery a movement of the air made her candle flicker and she turned, gasping as she spilled wax over her fingers.

‘Here, let me take that!’ Noah appeared out of the gloom and took the candlestick from her while she peeled the hot wax off
her fingers. He took her hand in his and examined it. ‘Are you burned?’

‘Only a little.’

‘I came to find you. I wanted to ask …’ He stopped and looked uncertain for a moment. ‘How much do you know about Mistress
Morley?’

‘She has been unwell and suffered a sad loss.’

‘How do you like her?’ His voice was curious.

‘At first it was a duty to be her companion but the more I come to know her, the more I like her.’ Beth smiled. ‘However,
it’s irksome to be her companion for almost all my waking hours; not because of any defect in her character but simply because
I need time to paint. Anne has had a difficult life, I think. Her father sounds most unsympathetic, always interfering in
her household, even to the extent of choosing her servants.’

Noah nodded. ‘In many ways you’re right that she has had a difficult life. In others she has led a life of supreme privilege.’

‘In what way?’

Noah rubbed a finger against his nose. ‘Clearly she doesn’t want you to know who she is but …’

William came briskly along the gallery, holding aloft a guttering candle.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Beth.

‘Ah, there you are, Noah!’ said William. ‘I’ve been looking for
you. I wanted to show you some books in our library, which may be of interest to you. Excuse us, if you will, Beth.’ William,
tucked his arm firmly through Noah’s as he led him away.

Noah glanced back over his shoulder and Beth thought she caught a hint of relief in his face.

A couple of days later, Cecily woke early for once.

‘What is it?’ groaned Beth as Cecily leaped out of bed and wrenched back the curtains to let in the light. She rubbed the
sleep from her eyes.

‘I wanted to look at my new dress again.’ Cecily picked up the armful of ivory taffeta and lace which was draped over the
coffer and held it against herself. Twirling around as if she was dancing, she curtsied low to Beth. ‘What do you think?’

‘You look as lovely as you did each of the twenty-two occasions you asked me the same question yesterday.’

‘I really, really wanted scarlet silk because it would look wonderful with my black hair but Mama wouldn’t let me.’

‘I should think not indeed! Entirely unsuitable for your first grown-up ball.’

‘Perhaps I could have scarlet ribbons in my hair?’

Beth relented. ‘Maybe one but don’t be surprised if Father makes you remove it.’

‘I’ll tie it into my curls just before we arrive and he’ll never notice. And what are you going to wear, Beth?’

‘I have the green silk that used to be Mama’s.’

‘Mmm.’ Cecily looked doubtful. ‘The colour always suited you but it is rather old fashioned.’

‘I don’t give a fig for that!’

‘Well, I do. I could spend my whole life going to balls and soirées and the theatre. One day I’ll go to London again and drive
around in a golden coach and people will say, “There goes the beautiful Mistress Ambrose!”’

‘You want to be careful what you wish for! Think of your reputation.’

‘Beth, do you always have to be so … so
sensible?
’

After breakfast, Beth went to the little parlour where Anne’s manservant, Forsyth, was stationed outside. He bowed and opened
the door for her.

Anne drooped on the window seat; Beth’s heart sank as she noticed that her eyes were red and swollen.

‘Anne? Have you been weeping again?’

Anne’s fingers twisted endlessly at the handkerchief in her lap. She took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘I dreamed last night
of my two little girls playing with their kittens in the sunshine. I gathered them up on to my knee and could feel their silky
hair against my face. And then I woke up and remembered that I’ll never hold them in my arms again.’

Beth took Anne’s hands. ‘It is a hard thing to bear but I promise you that time will lessen your sorrow.’

‘Why is it so difficult for me to have a child?’ Anne sobbed. ‘Is God punishing me? I have made every effort to walk in God’s
ways, to follow His true doctrines in a church that is pious and sincere. My closest friend, Mistress Freeman, is to have
yet another child next
month and I try,’ she swallowed another sob, ‘and I do try to be happy for her but it breaks my heart.’

Beth clasped Anne’s hands. ‘Father often says you must simply keep putting one foot in front of the other until one day you
will find the sun is shining again. If you keep healthy and cheerful, maybe the next baby will stay well.’

Anne’s chin quivered but she mastered her emotions and squeezed Beth’s hand. ‘Each month I count the days, hoping and praying
to the good Lord that my courses will not come.’

‘You must try not to dwell on it. Time enough for unhappiness if what you fear comes to pass.’

Anne took a deep breath. ‘I count myself fortunate to have you for a friend. You are my friend, aren’t you?’

Beth smiled. ‘Of course. And I want to see you in happy spirits again. Yesterday it was wonderful to see you laugh while we
played those silly games.’

‘There is the ball tonight. But I’m not sure if …’

‘Do come, Anne! I’m sure it won’t be as smart as the balls you are used to but it’s the pinnacle of all the social events
here. Why, Cecily is almost bursting with delight and can talk of nothing else but her new dress.’

‘I used to like to dance. What will you wear?’

‘Mama has given me her green silk with the gold underskirt that she wore when she was young.’

Anne looked at her curiously. ‘Don’t you have ball dresses of your own?’

Beth shook her head.

‘But you cannot wear a dress that is decades old. Come with me at once!’

Anne led Beth away upstairs. ‘My maid will dress your hair and powder your face and make you fit for the smartest ball.’ She
pushed open the door to her bedchamber and began to pull dresses out of her travelling trunk.

Anne’s maid, a middle-aged woman dressed all in black with a sour expression to match, came forward to restrain her. ‘Madam,
please sit down and tell me what you are looking for.’

‘The pink silk … No, perhaps not with strawberry blonde hair. I want to lend Miss Ambrose a dress for the ball tonight, Edith.
The blue watered silk?’

Edith took hold of Beth’s arm and turned her around, looking her up and down until Beth turned hot with embarrassment.

‘Well?’ said Anne.

Edith began to rummage in the trunk. ‘This one.’ She pulled out a froth of aqua silk which she held up against Beth.

‘It’s not really a ball dress,’ said Anne doubtfully.

‘Madam, we are in the
country
. She is young and does not need anything too formal.’

‘Yes. Of course.’ Anne smiled. ‘And that colour is perfect for you, Beth. Go on, put it on!’

Beth fingered the silky fabric, marvelling at the quantities of fine lace and the seed pearls sewn all over the puffed and
gathered sleeves.

‘Undress!’ commanded Edith.

Beth began to tug behind her back at the laces of her bodice but Edith deftly untied them herself. Before she knew it, Beth
stood shivering in only her chemise.

Edith held out the damask underskirt and shook it impatiently.

After Beth stepped into it the overskirt was wrapped around her, buttoned at the waist and pinned back to show the embroidered
satin lining. The maid loosened the ties at the neck of Beth’s chemise, exposing a great deal more naked skin than she was
used to showing to the world. She opened her mouth to protest but closed it again at the fierce look she received. Then came
the low-necked body, with a stiffly boned busk and gossamer thin sleeves gathered on to the armholes. Edith pulled tightly
on the laces and Beth felt her breasts being pushed up so high that if she dropped her chin it would rest in the valley between
them.

‘I can’t breathe!’ she protested. She wriggled her fingers under the point of the busk, which extended downwards from her
waist as far as her honour.

‘It’s the latest fashion,’ said Anne. ‘The shape elongates the silhouette. Most elegant.’

‘It is necessary to suffer in the pursuit of beauty,’ said Edith.

‘You’ll become used to it,’ said Anne. ‘Just remember not to bend forwards.’ She turned to the maid. ‘What do you think?’

Edith studied Beth, tweaking the skirt into shape and pulling at the neckline to expose even more of Beth’s breasts. ‘She
will do. But we must dress her hair. Bring her to me this evening.’ Without more ado she swiftly unlaced the body and Beth
could breathe again.

That evening the women assembled in the hall and waited as Anne Morley’s coach was brought from the stables. The womenfolk
were to travel to the ball in the coach, while the men walked behind with Joseph carrying a lamp to light their way.

Beth, self-conscious in her borrowed finery, stood up very straight, unable to slouch even if she had wanted to, since the
murderously hard busk prevented it. Her hair had been dressed in a complicated and sophisticated style with artless curls
draped over one, very nearly bare, shoulder. She had caught her breath when she’d seen herself in the mirror in Anne’s bedchamber.
A beautiful stranger looked back at her. When she had taken a few careful steps the yards of fine blue-green silk embellished
with seed pearls whispered around her ankles as if she were floating on a cushion of air.

Anne, resplendent in butter-yellow satin, had smiled and offered her a fan and shown her how to flirt behind it. ‘You will
have all the young gentlemen clamouring after you!’ she said.

Beth wasn’t sure how she felt about that but there
was
something special about wearing such fine clothes.

Cecily’s eyes widened when she saw her sister. ‘Beth! You look like a princess.’ She pouted. ‘And I thought I was going to
be the prettiest tonight.’

‘You look beautiful and much older than sixteen.’

Mollified, Cecily smoothed her skirts. ‘I’m going to tie red ribbons in my hair once we’re in the coach,’ she whispered.

‘I thought it was always the ladies who kept the gentlemen waiting,’ said Susannah to Mistress Morley.

With a clattering of shoes Kit, John and Noah jostled their way down the stairs, all dressed in their Sunday best and full
of self-conscious good humour.

‘Well, don’t we all look fancy?’ said Noah, elegantly dressed in bronze-coloured velvet that matched his eyes.

‘You look splendid,’ said Beth, thinking how handsome he was.

‘I m-m-may not have the most m-m-modish coat but I have scraped the mud from under my fingernails,’ said John, laughing as
he held out his hands for inspection.

Kit adjusted the lace at his cuffs and buttoned and unbuttoned the indigo jacquard coat he’d borrowed from his father for
the occasion. ‘I’m not used to dressing up,’ he said.

Noah clapped him on the arm. ‘You look very fine and I can see you’ll be setting my sisters’ hearts aflutter when you arrive
in Jamestown, Kit. I’ve written to them and told them to expect you so they’ll be in a flurry of visits to the dressmakers,
all competing for your attention upon your arrival.’ He turned to Beth and took her hand. ‘But none of them could possibly
outshine you,’ he said quietly. ‘You look radiant tonight.’

Beth flushed at his compliment before realising she was holding his hand for far too long to be polite. Flustered, she murmured
something inconsequential and turned away.

William, austere in black, took Susannah’s arm. ‘You look as lovely as ever, my dear,’ he said, his face softening into one
of his rare but dazzling smiles.

Cecily, jiggling about in excitement, called out, ‘Time to go!’

After a deal of careful manoeuvring, the ladies climbed into the coach with their skirts arranged to crease as little as possible.

Fanshawe Manor had never looked better. The carriage drive was lined with flaming torches and crowded with coaches. Servants
in new livery took the guests’ cloaks. The hall was lit by a thousand candles and decorated with garlands of greenery entwined
with swathes of white silk. A small group of musicians played to amuse the guests while they waited to be announced.

‘It’s as bright as day!’ said Cecily, her jaw dropping at the magnificence of it all. ‘I’ve never seen anything so wondrous.’

‘Imagine the bill for the candles!’ whispered Susannah. ‘Why, there are enough to light Merryfields for ten years.’

William took Cecily’s arm and turned her to face him. ‘I see a scarlet ribbon has appeared in your hair on the journey here.’

Cecily’s cheeks flushed to match the offending ribbon.

‘And it looks delightful,’ continued William. ‘I am blessed with my womenfolk; you paint a vision of loveliness.’

Squealing with delight, Cecily stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ‘I wonder if Harry de Montford is here yet,’ she said, glancing
around the crowd.