The Silver Touch (27 page)

‘I should be pleased. I’m Ann Bateman.’

‘Shall you have to come far each time?’

‘Not at all. I live in Bunhill Row at Number 107.’

‘So near.’ He knew the house, having taken his bearings as soon as he arrived. She was an artisan’s daughter, no higher in station than himself, for his beginnings had been humbler than his position nowadays. It was not such a surprise that she was being allowed the use of the library as it would have been in some of the grand houses in which he had worked, for James Esdaile was equally at ease with all ranks of his fellow men, which was one of the reasons for his popularity in the city.

‘What sort of books do you like, Miss Bateman?’ Matthew eyed her speculatively. She was nothing to look at with regard to her features, but her expression sparkled as she threw her glance here and there at the book-crammed shelves. He was appraising her figure. Her narrow waist rose out of her wide skirts like the calyx of a flower and her young breasts were full and round. His stare dissolved back to her face as her radiant gaze returned to him.

‘History books and nature books and tales of faraway places,’ she exclaimed.

‘Then you’ll find all you want here. I’ll show you a few of each now if you have some minutes to spare.’

‘Oh, I have,’ she replied eagerly. ‘I’m not going back to the dancing.’

He compressed his lips as he turned away to the nature section on the shelves. If the choice had been his he would have danced the night away. A quiet life out of the city, whether it be London or any other great town, did not suit him and unfortunately much of his work took him to isolated houses set in rural splendour with nothing in the way of entertainment. With his aesthetic tastes he had no time for servant-girls, except when in dire physical need, and country wenches were no better for he was repulsed by uneducated voices and rough manners. Occasionally there had been a pleasing widow alone in a house or a wife bored in her husband’s absence who had looked in his direction, but these turns of good luck were rare.

There was no chance of such a happening in the present household, although with the age difference between the Esdailes he would take a wager that in another few years their relationship would be less stable. It could be argued that here in Bunhill Row he was near enough to the city to be able to enjoy himself, but he had no transport and at the end of a long day it was a heavy tramp into town and back again. He had resigned himself to hours of work and no play until the cataloguing was finished, able to look forward to nothing more than an occasional mug of ale at the Royal Oak. But now this girl was to be a frequent visitor at the library. He gave her a smile as he took down a large volume from a shelf.

‘This is a book you’ll want to study for hours on end.’

He opened it for her on the library table after pushing his own ledgers aside and together they leaned over it. She gazed in wonder at the exquisite illustrations of a mandarin duck, a quail, a strange eagle and many other exotic birds painted by a Chinese hand, every feature distinctive, each eye as bright as if alive. As she turned the pages he brought her more books, the subjects ranging from Ancient Rome to a history of Columbus’s explorations and some fictional works by Defoe that included
Robinson
Crusoe
. He hesitated about
Moll
Flanders
, weighing it in his hand, and then added it out of devilment. It should open those innocent eyes. As it happened she did not look at it then, having been drawn first to those with illustrations that were new to her, for she had never handled such costly books before.

She exclaimed, admired and asked him many questions. By now they had chairs drawn up side by side at the table and, since like most people he found it enjoyable to impart his own knowledge, he answered her readily and was pleased by her appreciativeness. She had the upper hand when together they went through a large volume of English wild flowers and plants. The Latin names meant nothing to her but she was able to give a country name to each, something entirely beyond his ability.

‘I’ve always known that yellow and orange flower as Cuckoos’ Stockings. Those wild lilies are Lords-and-Ladies and they do look stately, don’t you think? How delicately those Wind-flowers have been drawn and coloured in their pinks and whites, and there’s green-and-white Shepherd’s Purse — it really looks like a little purse, doesn’t it?’ She turned another page. ‘Oh, here is Traveller’s Joy, which is a true name because the blossoms look so pretty in the hedges, and that tiny pansy is one of my favourites. It’s called Jump-Up-And-Kiss-Me.’

He glanced at her quickly then to see if there was any coquettishness in her face, but her whole expression was absorbed in the book. ‘I’m impressed,’ he acknowledged. ‘You know them all. How is that? I heard your family came from London!’

‘So we did, but my mother grew up in the country and since we came to live in Bunhill Row I’ve learned the names from her.’

‘Then they all grow around here?’

‘Every one of those I’ve seen in this book so far, although of course it depends on the time of the season.’

‘Would you show me where to look for those that are blooming now? Being a city fellow I should make the most of being in the country area while I’m here.’

‘Indeed you should.’ She had no shyness with him. In books they talked the same language and his kindness to her, his willingness to assist her in her choice of reading in the weeks ahead, and the peacefulness of the library after the swirl and whirl of the ballroom gave her a sense of security in his presence. ‘I could draw a little map and give you clear directions —’

He interrupted her. ‘No, that isn’t what I meant. I should like you to show me if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.’

She was glad to be able to do something for him in return for his assistance to her. Had she been more used to attention from the opposite sex, less resigned to her own lack of attractiveness beside Letticia’s beauty, she would have realized that his request was not as platonic as she supposed. ‘It would be no trouble at all. We can settle on a fine day when you’re free.’

‘What about tomorrow?’ He loathed the boredom of Sundays. His position in the household was an ambiguous one, for not being staff meant he was free of the commitment of church if he should not wish to attend and yet by the same token he was not expected to work on the Sabbath, which he would willingly have done to alleviate the tedium of time on his hands. To take a walk with a girl of gentle manners and a bright mind would pass several hours pleasurably and he saw no reason to postpone it.

She considered. ‘Yes, tomorrow afternoon then. We dine earlier on Sundays. What about you?’

He thought of the countless meals served to him in solitary state, for his position was too high for the servants’ hall and too lowly for the family dining-room. ‘I can eat more or less when I like. Just say the time and I’ll meet you wherever you wish.’

The arrangements were made. Shortly afterwards there came the sound of carriage wheels beginning to roll in the direction of the mansion’s entrance as the ball drew to its close. She rose to her feet reluctantly, sorry that the evening was over, and looked uncertainly at the books selected for her.

‘I can’t take all those now.’

‘Take this one.’ He gave her
Robinson
Crusoe
. ‘You can fetch the rest in turn when you need them.’

She nodded happily. Each book would mean seeing him again, which was a joyful prospect, and in the meantime there was tomorrow to look forward to. ‘Thank you for showing me those beautiful volumes, Mr Grant.’

He saw her to the library door and opened it for her. She sped away, clutching her book, and fetched her shawl in time to reach her parents and her sister as they bade good night to the Esdailes, and no questions were asked.

Both she and Letticia, with whom she shared a room, were quiet while they prepared for bed. It was not unusual for Ann, but after any social event Letticia always had much to tell of romantic encounters and occasionally the giggling confession of a kiss allowed. Tonight was different. Letticia was dreamily silent and her gaze abstracted. Ann found that it was she herself who wanted to talk, although shyness about voicing details of her new friendship made her wait until the candle was out and they were both in their beds. In the moonlight pouring through the window she could see her sister was lying wide awake.

‘Letticia,’ she said softly, smiling to herself where she lay on her back, ‘something wonderful happened this evening.’

To her astonishment, at her words Letticia bounded out of bed and came to hug her. ‘Darling Ann. I should have known that you above all people would have noticed, sensitive creature that you are! You read my expression, did you? Or was it that you saw how Richard and I danced far more dances together than we should have done? We couldn’t stay away from each other.’ She snatched up Ann’s hand and kissed it in her exuberance. ‘I’ve been in a daze ever since those last few minutes before we all left the mansion. I heard Richard ask Father if he might call on him in the morning on a personal matter. There can only be one reason for that! He wants permission to ask me to marry him. This has been the happiest night of my whole life!’ Her voice throbbed and without warning she burst into tears. ‘I’m in love, Ann. There’s no reason to cry but I’m so much in love. I never knew it could happen like this.’

Ann shifted up on her pillows and wrapped her arms around her sister. The moment was gone when she would have told Letticia about her own new friendship, which could not be compared with the miracle of love. ‘I’m so glad for you. You’re shedding tears of joy. May you always be as happy as you are tonight.’

In the morning Richard arrived shortly before noon. He was received by John in the parlour and after a little while the door opened again. Ann, who happened to be crossing the hall, paused as her father beckoned to her. ‘Ask your mother to come here, Ann. And would you fetch your sister?’

‘At once,’ she said, almost in a whisper in the excitement of the occasion.

Letticia received the summons in the flower garden where she was waiting on a shady seat. She nodded as Ann approached, no word being needed, and automatically touched a curl into place. As she rose from the seat and went indoors she realized that in her calculated way she had never expected the bonus of love in the marriage of her choice and yet it was to be hers. For the first time in her life she felt humble before the good fortune that had come to her. Well, she would not accept it lightly. It should radiate from her to her parents and her sister and her brothers. Nobody should lose through the bond soon to be forged, least of all Richard himself.

*

Hester accepted Mary Esdaile’s invitation to call and went one Saturday afternoon when the workshop was closed, taking the three boys with her. Mary, with the baby tucked under her arm like a parcel and the two toddlers clinging to her skirts, abandoned the tea that had been set formally for her and her guest in the drawing-room and had a nursery tea laid on a table on the terrace where she and Hester could join the children and sit with them. It was a happy afternoon, enjoyed by all, particularly William who thought there was no animal in the world to compare with the horse. Mary said he could ride the pony at any time under the supervision of a groom. It was the start of William’s association with the Esdaile stables, a privilege he was to use to the full. The climax of the afternoon for all three boys was a choice from the basket of puppies.

In the weeks that followed Hester thought often how right John had been in foreseeing constant involvement with the Esdailes. It was not only with Ann having the use of the library and William forever at the stables, but she and John were invited time and time again to supper parties and musical evenings and amateur theatricals, Richard and Letticia being included on many occasions after their betrothal had been officially announced. The events were informal in comparison with the elaborate festivities that were a major part of the Esdailes’ social life in London and made a welcome change for them both. Sometimes, if a gathering were small, the evening would end in James’s own parlour in the tavern with punch for the ladies and ale for the men, often the local fiddler coming in from the taproom to play well-loved country melodies.

As the relationship developed between the Esdailes and the Batemans, John and James sometimes met on their own in the tavern parlour to play a game of chess or enjoy a strong political discussion over a pint of ale. There was no class barrier between them, for John had the natural ease of the well-bred in any company, rich or poor, and although he never thought about his antecedents they were probably a match in every way for the D’Estailes. In any case, he and James were both in trade, and although James was now in a higher world of banking he made no secret of having retained his financial interests in military accoutrements, which had continued to be a profitable business since England was rarely free of war in one foreign field or another.

Hester’s acquaintanceship with Mary remained as from the first meeting. There was pleasure in each other’s company, a mutual liking and respect, but an invisible barrier prevented a true friendship evolving, not of Hester’s making but of Mary’s. Hester could guess that its origins lay in Mary’s awareness of James’s open affection for her, but since she herself knew that no harm would ever come of it, she simply regretted that she and Mary would never know each other better. Yet nothing seemed to please the Esdailes more than to be invited in their turn to 107, Bunhill Row where there was always good food, games of cards and plenty of lively conversation.