“It’s for me, Father. I’m getting married.”
She wore her ring when she was alone and now she held it out to show him. He smiled slowly, brought her ring finger close to his eyes and nodded.
“Well done, girl,” he said. “But I don’t know what you’re bothering with making a frock for. Surely His Lordship can afford a proper dressmaker.”
She should have told him then, but she couldn’t force the words to slide past her tongue. He wouldn’t be so interested if he knew she was only marrying the estate manager. In fact, having told everyone who would listen that his daughter was marrying the Earl of Harrisford, he would likely turn her out of the house.
He went to the sink and filled the kettle, lit the stove and put it on to boil. He was making a cup of tea, his own tea. Jessica would never have guessed that he knew how to do that. He didn’t offer her one; that was a step too far.
“I’ll get your dinner,” she said, folding her fabric around the pattern.
“No rush,” he muttered. “I still think you’re wasting your time. Does His Lordship know you’re making your own wedding dress?”
No, and there’s no reason why he should. He wouldn’t care anyway.
She didn’t say it. She wondered if it would be on her wedding day that her father discovered who his son-in-law was to be.
He sat in his armchair and picked up his newspaper.
“You be careful with that ring,” he said. “That’s really old, that is.”
Jessica frowned. Since when did Father know anything about antique jewellery?
“Yes, it’s an antique,” she said. “It belonged to … it belonged to his great grandmother.”
“I think you’ll find tis older than that, girl.”
She had no idea what he was talking about or how he knew anything about her ring, but she couldn’t spend the rest of the evening wondering about it.
“You talk like you’ve seen it before,” she said.
He looked up from his paper for a brief moment, then directed his eyes back to the news article.
“I have,” he said.
“Where? Where could you possibly have seen it?”
He folded up his paper, sighed heavily and looked up at her.
“You know the Earl opens up the Castle to the villagers every year,” he said. “Well, the great hall anyway. He always has lots of jewellery on show. I took your mother there when we was courting and she paid particular attention to that ring; she wanted one like it, but of course I could never have afforded that.”
“But where was it? Where did you see it?”
“In one of them display cases the Earl’s got up there. There’s lots of stuff in there, necklaces, brooches, all sorts. But that ring, I remember, was shown in front of a painting of a woman actually wearing it. It was some ancestor of his, some Countess from Tudor times.”
She studied the ring in silence for a long time, ideas racing through her mind and tumbling over each other. She couldn’t catch hold of any single one of them long enough to scrutinise it.
“It must be a different ring,” she said.
“Nope. It was definitely the one we saw. His Lordship even got it out of the case to show your mother, cos she was so interested in it. I’d know it anywhere.”
Her lip began to quiver but she wasn’t sure why. Could it be that Simon had lied to her, that it wasn’t his great grandmother’s ring after all? But if that were the case, where did he get it? The Earl surely wouldn’t have parted with something so old and valuable. Finally, Jessica settled on the idea that Simon must be some sort of close relative to the de Longuevilles, that Swinburne wasn’t his real name and he had some sort of right to this ring.
“I don’t know what you’re looking so glum about,” said her father. “It’s a real honour for him to be giving you something like that, something that’s been in his family for centuries.”
“I suppose it is,” she muttered.
“Course, it’s a bit penny pinching, too,” he said. “It’s not like he couldn’t afford a new one.”
She decided to say nothing about the ring for a little while, see if Simon made any comment on the subject.
There was a dance at the village hall that evening and she had been looking forward to it for weeks; she had no intention of spoiling it by questioning Simon about the ring. This evening was going to be like an engagement party for them; they’d decided to announce it to everyone there. But that caused its own problems, what with Dad still believing she was going to be a countess. Countess! The very idea!
When they arrived at the village hall, their plans to announce their engagement were thwarted when it became obvious her father had spread the news about the entire village that his daughter was going to be the next Countess of Harrisford.
Simon hadn’t driven the carriage himself this time. He thought it unfair on the horses to leave them standing about for hours and there was no stabling available at the village hall. The Earl had let his own driver bring them and he would pick them up later, when the dance had finished.
The crowd inside the hall were standing expectantly looking at the door. They’d seen the Earl’s carriage draw up, they’d heard Jack Milligan bragging about his daughter’s engagement, and they were all expecting to see His Lordship there that evening. In fact, they had been gossiping for weeks that the Earl would have to have a ball now to celebrate, but nothing had been said. They thought it likely that invitations would be sent out in the very near future.
Their smiles disappeared when Jessica walked in with Simon Swinburne.
“I thought you’d come with His Lordship,” said one woman.
“I suppose this sort of gathering is beneath him,” said another. “But who’s this?”
Simon bowed his head respectfully.
“I am Simon Swinburne, Madam,” he said. “I am His Lordship’s estate manager.”
“I understand,” she said, turning to her friend. “He’s sent him instead, to look after her. That’s likely how things are done in society.”
Jessica clung to the explanation and clung as well to Simon’s hand. How was this ever going to work out? But, if he was a relative of the Earl, why didn’t he introduce himself as such instead of an employee?
They enjoyed themselves, danced a lot. He was a divine dancer and they sat in the corner afterward with their drinks. She knew this was the time to ask about the ring, but she couldn’t quite summon the courage.
“Tell me something, Simon,” she said. “Are you related to His Lordship?”
He smiled gently.
“Why do you ask?”
“I just wondered,” she said. “He doesn’t have many servants; he’s almost a recluse and I just thought perhaps, because he has engaged your services, you might be a cousin or something.”
“And why wouldn’t I tell you if I was?”
“Perhaps to prevent a farmer’s daughter getting ideas above her station,” she suggested.
He took her hand, squeezed it gently then brought it to his lips.
“I would really like to kiss you,” he said. “But this is not the place. You are not just a farmer’s daughter to me; you are the love of my life. I cannot wait until I make you my wife. I cannot wait for our wedding night.”
She blushed, ducked her head to look at her twisting fingers. She could not ask him now, could she?
CHAPTER FOUR
Simon’s Confession
The empty cottage at number 3 High Street was occupied just after Christmas. Nobody really noticed until the Christmas morning service when a stranger slipped into a pew at the back of the church.
Jessica was there with her father, who still didn’t know just who his daughter was engaged to. The longer she waited to tell him, the harder it became. Jessica had asked him, begged him even, to stop telling everyone about it, but her wishes meant nothing.
“Why shouldn’t I tell them?” he demanded. “It’s a big thing for us. Soon as you’re wed, I can stop breaking my ba
ck on the farm and settle down to an easy retirement.”
She frowned, puzzled. She had no idea he was having plans like that and her heart sank. Now it was impossible to tell him the truth. An idea flashed into her mind at that moment, the sort of idea that she knew she shouldn’t have but it wasn’t the first time. Supposing her father was to die? Then he wouldn’t have to know the truth and everything would be easier all round. People would be too sympathetic to think about his bragging in the past.
“His Lordship won’t want his father-in-law working the farm for him, will he?” said Jack. “He’ll want the cottage for whoever takes my place, but that’s all right. I expect he’ll give me rooms in that great pile of his.”
She made no reply but now, as she sat in the third pew from the back with her father, she could feel the eyes of the villagers upon her. It was a relief when a stranger sat behind them, in the last pew at the back. Whispers began in earnest, everyone wanting to know who this man was, but nobody had an answer.
He looked to be about forty years old, balding and chubby, but he carried himself with an air of confidence and his clothes looked to be of good quality. Catherine was sitting in front of Jessica and Jack, with her parents, and she turned and raised an enquiring eyebrow. Jessica supposed she thought she might know who he was, if he had moved into the village, as Simon would know all the tenants. But he might not have moved into the village at all; he might be just passing through and wanted to attend a Sunday service.
“You should see the ring he’s given her,” Jack whispered to the woman next to him. “It’s one of them really old ones that’s been in his family for years.” He turned to his daughter. “Jess, show ‘er your ring.”
She flushed.
“Not now, Dad,” she said. “This is not the place.”
She was relieved when the organ started up, then the vicar arrived in his pulpit and announced, ‘Let us pray’. The congregation got down on its collective knees and closed their eyes. Jessica gave the stranger a quick glance to see that he was not on his knees, merely bending forward from his seat. Hmm. Strange and scandalous. But was it scandalous enough to turn the gossips’ interest away from Jessica?
As she was leaving the church, filing past Reverend Mason along with everybody else, the Reverend caught her left hand and she was sure he was hoping to study this ring he had heard so much about. Fortunately, she was wearing gloves, and it wouldn’t have been proper for him to ask her to remove them.
“I’m looking forward to you and His Lordship coming to book the church for the wedding,” he said. “Don’t leave it too long; you don’t want to be disappointed and many couples marry in the spring and summer.”
Jessica stared at him for a moment, then wrenched her hand away and hurried down the path to the lychgate, wishing she could disappear into a hole in the ground.
***
“His name is Frederick,” Catherine told her later that day. “He has moved into number three and doesn’t appear to have any sort of employment.”
“What do you mean?” said Jessica. “Have you spoken to him?”
“Father has. We saw him moving some of his belongings in and, of course, Mother and me couldn’t go and introduce ourselves. So Father did.” Catherine paused and grinned mischievously. “We were listening,” she said.
“Well, where did he come from?” said Catherine. “That cottage has been standing empty since the Earl’s bookkeeper went out one day and never came back. Is that what this Frederick is going to do? Be the Earl’s new bookkeeper?”
“No, I don’t think so,” said Catherine. “I think Mr Swinburne is going to do that.”
First I heard about it, thought Jessica. She felt a bit annoyed that she had heard anything about Simon from someone else, but then this was about his work and he didn’t have to tell her everything, did he?
“What else did you hear?” she persisted.
“Not much,” said Catherine. “I heard him say he had a trust fund, so that must be what he lives on.”
“Bit strange,” said Jessica. “Telling something like that to a complete stranger.”
No more was said about the newcomer, as Jessica was, as usual, in a rush to meet Simon. They were going to set the date for the wedding this afternoon; he had said so and she couldn’t wait.
Although she had started on her wedding gown, she had made no mention of it to Simon. She thought perhaps he would think it presumptuous, but she’d managed to keep it covered up so it didn’t pick up any dirt. She didn’t have a lot of time for it, so it was going to take a while to finish. Once the date was settled, she could tell Simon all about it, although of course he mustn’t see it until the wedding.
A shadow of doubt descended over her then. Her father still thought she was marrying the Earl; this was getting ridiculous, but what on earth could she do about it now? Perhaps it would better if she and Simon were to elope, tell Jack all about it when it was done with.
She didn’t want that. She had always wanted a proper wedding in church. It might not be a massive affair, but it would be proper.
The gown she was making was going to be gorgeous. It was white satin with sleeves puffed massively at the top and narrowing down to buttons at the wrist. It had a lace panel at the front of the bodice, hand made by the gypsy woman who lived in her vardo in the woods. A lot of people were afraid of her, said she was a witch, but Jessica had always found her friendly enough, if a little strange.
The gown tapered at the waist then billowed out into a huge skirt with a train. She was going to look lovely in it; she was going to look like an Earl’s bride, even if she wasn’t one. And that brought her thoughts back to the problem of her father.
The Earl had bought one of the new tractors, huge great beast it was and nobody really knew how to drive it. Now, if Father were to have an accident with one of those, he would never need to know and what’s more, His Lordship might feel obliged to compensate Jessica for his loss.
She pushed the thoughts away and took one last glance in the living room mirror before she left to meet Simon and set the date for when she was to be his wife. Mrs Swinburne! How grand that sounded.
***
Simon waited at the top of the High Street, but this time, instead of the Earl’s little pony and trap, he was waiting in one of the new motor vehicles. It still had the de Longueville family crest on the side, though, so everyone who saw it believed Jessica’s father when he boasted.
Jessica was a little scared of riding in this vehicle. She had heard about them, but never dreamed she would ever have the chance to ride in one.
“What do you think?” said Simon.
“Is it safe?” she replied.
He laughed.
“Of course it is,” he said. “His Lordship bought it only yesterday and he’s been kind enough to let me use it today. He says he’s still not sure if it was a good buy, not convinced he doesn’t prefer his carriage.”
“I’m not sure I don’t either,” said Jessica.
“Well, this goes faster,” said Simon.
“How do you know how to drive it?”
“It’s easy,” he said. “Come on; jump in and we’ll got for a ride. The big advantage is, we can stop off where we like for as long as we like without worrying about the horses.”
Jessica climbed aboard, then turned to be sure no one was watching. The automobile was loud and she didn’t want anyone to see them.
Catherine was the only person who knew the truth as well as her fiancé, Jessica supposed. Catherine told Michael everything; that was the sort of relationship Jessica was hoping to have with Simon.
And there he was, sitting in the motor car and smiling at her. Oh, my God! He had a smile that could melt her entire body. She could feel everything fluttering just looking at him.
When she got inside, he took her face in his warm hand and kissed her with so much love she wanted to meld with him. It just wasn’t fair that she had to wait any longer before they could wed and she could know wha
t it was to melt into him, to become one with him.
She had no real idea of what that meant, but it didn’t matter. She loved Simon, loved him with all her heart and soul and she knew he would teach her how to love him with her body as well.
She blushed to be thinking like this, then she turned to face him as the car pulled away, looped her arm through his and rested her cheek on his sleeve.
“Where are we going?” she asked him.
She expected that he would have some special venue planned for when they would decide on a date for their wedding and she was right, but his suggestion made her uneasy and excited at the same time.
“We are having tea at the Royal Oak in Newmarket,” he said. “Then I was hoping to speak to you privately.”
“Privately?” she said. “We’re private here.”
“No, not private enough for what I have to tell you.”
Her heart began to beat rapidly, feeling as though it would burst out of her chest and she felt that little throbbing again, deep down inside. What did he have to say to her? He wanted to be private while they set the date. That must be it, of course it must. But he sounded sombre, as though he wanted to tell her something she would not want to hear.
Had he changed his mind? Was he breaking off the engagement? And if he did that, she would be a laughing stock. The only way to preserve her dignity would be to sue him for breach of promise, but she couldn’t do that. She had always thought that girls who did that were desperate.
“What do you want to tell me, Simon?” she asked hoarsely.
“Let’s wait until we’ve had our tea,” he said. “I’ve booked a room; please don’t take it the wrong way. I want only to speak privately, nothing more.”
“You’re scaring me,” she said.
He turned and gave her that irresistible smile, leaned forward and gently touched her lips with his own.
“Don’t be scared, darling,” he said. “I love you so much; I want nothing but your happiness.”
She swallowed the threatening tears and drew a sigh of relief. He loves me! He still loves me, so he isn’t thinking of breaking off the engagement.
Knight's Acre: Till Death Do Us Part Page 5
