Harriet recognized one horse and its rider. ‘It’s Matt back already. Do you know who is with him?’
‘That’s Cousin Hesley,’ Olivia said quietly.
Harriet glanced at her. ‘Aren’t you pleased to see him?’
‘No. He pulls my hair and pinches me.’
‘Surely not. He is a young gentleman.’
‘He whips me, too, with his riding crop.’
‘He gives you punishment?’
‘Only when I get in his way. Then he laughs at me.’
Harriet frowned at the idea of such thoughtless behaviour. She reached across for Olivia’s hand and said, ‘We shall show him how grown-up you are now, and then he will treat you as a lady.’
They continued to watch as a cart laden with travelling boxes and sacks trundled a few hundred yards behind the riders. Cousin Hesley had brought provisions with him as well as luggage, but Harriet wondered why he had returned from his shooting and hunting.
‘We had better hurry back,’ she suggested. ‘Mrs Cookson will need our help.’
But Mrs Cookson sent them to the schoolroom with game pie and pickles for their tea, saying,‘The gentlemen are receiving visitors later. If I were you I’d stay out of sight until tomorrow.’
During the evening Harriet saw from her window several riders arrive. They were smartly clothed with fine coats, boots, and tall hats. Before long they were making a lot of noise in the drawing room.
After tea, she taught Olivia the words to more hymns and they sang them together as best they could without any music. This helped to drown the shouting downstairs and soon her pupil was sleepy from their earlier long walk. When Harriet went to fetch hot water from the kitchen, she hurried past the dining room.
Mrs Cookson was nowhere to be found and had left untidy debris from the gentlemen’s cold supper on the table. She put the food in the pantry, took the dirty pots to the scullery and wiped down the tabletop. The fire was low, but the water in the range boiler was still hot. She filled a ewer and hastened upstairs.
After Olivia had gone to bed, Harriet read, as she did on most evenings. She looked forward to this time and had found several books in the master’s library to occupy her. She sat by the window and lit a candle when the light faded. The noise downstairs lessened and she heard horses’ hoofs on the cobbles in the yard as, finally, the gentlemen left. She put down her book to watch them.
Young Hesley was out there, in his shirt sleeves and waistcoat, holding a lantern. When he turned he looked up at her window and Harriet drew back, wishing she had extinguished her candle. A few minutes later he walked into the schoolroom, closing the door behind him.
He was a handsome fellow, she thought, with the tall, straight stance and good features of his grandfather. But he carried a horsewhip in one hand and a silver hip flask in the other. His swagger made her nervous. His dress was dishevelled and she guessed he had been drinking all afternoon and evening.
‘So you’re the governess?’ he said. ‘Miss Trent.’ He spoke her name with a mild scorn that she found disrespectful.
‘Please be quiet, sir. Olivia is sleeping.’
‘Is she now? Just you and me, then?’
‘You will be good enough to leave my schoolroom, sir.’
‘It’s my schoolroom.’
‘Sir, you are intoxicated!’
‘And you are not.’ He offered her the flask.‘Join me, governess.’
‘No, sir.’
He flicked his whip across the table leg.‘I said join me, damn you!’
Harriet jumped, shocked by his language and behaviour. She moved to the door, intending to hold it open for him to leave. But as she neared him he snaked an arm about her waist and pulled her close.
At first she was angry that he gave no thought to his sleeping cousin, but then her fury heightened. He had assumed she would obey him without question. She tried to remove his arm but it was anchored firmly around her body. ‘Not thinking of running, are you?’ He grinned.
She strained her head away from him. Her anger was turning quickly to fear. He was tall and strong, he smelled strongly of spirits, and his grip was tight. She was frightened of what he might do next.
She had never experienced such an attack from a gentleman - or, indeed, from any man - and could only say, ‘Stop this at once, sir.’
It was inadequate, she knew, for he was not listening to her. But in her increasing panic she could not think what else to do. Mrs Cookson could not help her. She was in the stables, probably drunk by now. And she dared not call for the master for he was sure to blame her for the incident. It was always the servant’s fault.
‘Comely armful, aren’t you? What was your name? Ah, yes. Miss Trent. The comely Miss Trent. The governess.’ His speech was slurred and he spoke with an exaggerated slowness as if he wanted to be sure that he articulated the words correctly.
Her heart was pounding with dread and she tried to steady it by breathing slowly. She knew she was no match for his strength. He tossed aside the whip and took the flask from his other hand, draining it into his open mouth. Then he threw it across the room. Dread turned to horror as his hand fell on the swell of her breasts and he dug his fingers roughly into her flesh. She squealed and tears sprang to her eyes. ‘No, sir. No,’ she begged. ‘Please let me go.’
‘Over here,’ he growled, and dragged her towards the schoolroom table, pushing her backwards and pressing his body to hers. ‘C’m’on, governess’ he slurred. He grasped her chin. His florid face and open lips had made contact with hers before she knew what was happening.
She screamed in her throat and struggled to break free of him. As she did so the schoolroom door banged against the wall and, over his shoulder, she saw the master standing in the doorway with a lighted candle in a brass holder. ‘Oh, no!’ she cried.
Hesley’s grip slackened and he slumped over the table. She scrambled away from him to stand alone in the centre of the room. The master would dismiss her for this. And without a testimonial. Oh, Lord, no! Where would she go and what would become of Olivia?
‘Stand up straight, Hesley, and get yourself off to bed,’ the master barked.
Hesley turned his head slowly and gave his grandfather a look of contempt. The master took him by the scruff of his shirt, hauled him across the room and flung him out of the door. Harriet heard the younger man stagger along the landing as the older one turned to face her with a questioning look.
‘Sir, please believe me, he came here uninvited . . .’ Harriet began anxiously.
‘I know my grandson, MissTrent.’ He sniffed audibly and looked her over in the candlelight. ‘And your gown becomes you.’
She was relieved that he had sent away his grandson but she had the same uncomfortable feeling she’d experienced with him before: humiliation, as though she were a beast being sized up for market. She remembered Mrs Cookson’s warnings about the Mextons, and although she was grateful for the master’s intervention, she wished he would not stare at her so.
Harriet swallowed. ‘What will you do, sir?’ she asked.
‘Do?
‘Am I dismissed, sir?’
He guffawed. ‘Why should I want to dismiss you? You are an excellent servant, and mine until you are one-and-twenty at the very least. As I said, I know who is at fault here.’
She breathed an audible sigh of relief. ‘You will be kind enough to ask your grandson not to visit the schoolroom.’
‘He will keep away from you. I shall see that he does.’
‘Thank you, sir. Goodnight, sir.’
He stood looking at her for what seemed a long time, then turned away. She closed the door quietly after him and went through to her bedchamber. She hoped Olivia had not woken and heard any of the unfortunate incident.
‘You must do something with your time, Hesley.’
‘What do you mean? Am I not a gentleman?’
‘You must use your education.’
‘Why, for heaven’s sake?’
‘Bec
ause it cost me a great deal of money.’
Grandfather and grandson had had a good day out in the fields with their guns.There were not many birds in these parts but hare was plentiful and Matt’s cousin had been over with his dogs. They had deposited their bag on a stone slab in the outside larder.
The master of Hill Top House had glanced into the kitchen window and noticed the womenfolk eating their tea.‘We’ll talk in my study. I’ve taken delivery of a case of sherry wine. Adam Harvey says it’s better for my health than spirits. Try a glass with me.’
As they stretched out their feet to the fire the mud on their boots began to dry and crack in the heat.
‘What do you want to do, Hesley?’
He sipped his wine appreciatively. ‘This is rather pleasant. A case, did you say?’
‘Well?’ Old Hesley was not to be distracted.
‘Travel. Do the Grand Tour. Italy is the country to visit, these days.’
‘Can’t be done, I’m afraid. The pit is still losing money. You need a profession. What about Parliament?’
‘Good God, no! I’d rather run the mine for you.’
‘Would you, by heaven? Do you think you’d make a better job of it than I can?’
‘It can’t be that hard.You don’t spend much time there.’
‘No, but I can do the manager’s job if I have to!’ he snapped. ‘Besides, I have other interests to deal with. The plantation, for example.’
‘Olivia’s trust, you mean? When does she inherit?’
‘Not until she is five-and-twenty.’
‘But the revenue comes to you until then. It’s safe, isn’t it?’
‘It’s dwindling, Hesley. I cannot have you wasting your time.’
‘I can occupy myself well enough.’ Young Hesley grinned and refilled his glass.
‘Not on my doorstep with my servant. I will not have it.’
‘Very well. I’ll find my women in the town.’
‘As long as you stay clear of Mexton.You will not be welcome there.’ Old Hesley became impatient. ‘Don’t you understand? The plantation is our future and now that the slave trade has stopped, emancipation will follow, mark my words.Then I shall have to pay the slaves as free men.What do you think that will do to our income?’
‘I heard that freeing the slaves will benefit the plantation owners. The government is to give compensation.’
‘So they say. But with such upheavals and uncertainties I need a man out there I can trust.’
‘Out there? I hope you’re not thinking of me!’
‘Of course I am. You are one-and-twenty and you need occupation.’
‘Good God, Grandfather! Not the West Indies. I will not go there.’
‘You will do as I say.’
There was a silence as both men reflected on this difference. Then the elder spoke again. ‘Where’s your sense of adventure, Hesley? Your father would have welcomed the chance to leave Hill Top.’
‘My father died because he did as you demanded of him.’ The younger man choked into his sherry.
Again there was a short silence.
‘You forget that he was also my son. His death was an accident and his loss to me is as great as it is to you.You were just a babe in arms at the time and I have kept what is left of this family going since then. You have not wanted for anything, Hesley. It is time to repay.’
‘There must be someone else more suited than I.’
‘Who? Where? You and Olivia are the only family left.’
‘There’s your half-sister,’ his grandson added, and was silenced by his glare.
‘You are our future, Hesley, and I have made my decision. You’ll sail in the spring and we shall speak of it no further until after the Christmas feast.’
Young Hesley grimaced, but was cheered by the thought of festivities. ‘Are we invited to Swinborough Hall this year?’
‘No. We shall stay here for a family party.’
‘What family?’ he demanded petulantly.
‘Aunt Caroline’s.’
‘God, no! We haven’t seen them for years.’
‘Tyler’s lawyer talks to mine. His forge is one of the few that have survived this banking catastrophe. I need some of his capital.’
‘But do we have to put up with all of them?’
‘Apparently your aunt Caroline heard rumours about Olivia’s wild ways and consulted the lawyers.’
‘What for?’
‘She wanted to help. Tyler’s a family man and shares her concern. One day and one night, Hesley, is all it will take to bring them both to my side and stop them meddling. I am Olivia’s guardian and I have plans for her.’
‘So that was why you employed a governess. A good choice, Grandfather.’
‘I have warned you to keep away from her, Hesley. Surely there are enough women in the town to satisfy you?’
Young Hesley contemplated the idea.The hunting had excited him and the sherry wine was warming his blood.An innkeeper’s daughter had caught his eye . . . His loins stirred. He stood up quickly and the caked mud on his boots fell to the floor. ‘I shall go out, Grandfather. Take one of the hunters for a gallop. Don’t expect me back for supper.’
His grandfather smiled indulgently. They were cast in the same mould. His son, Hesley’s father, had not been. By tradition Mexton men should be strong and vigorous, with the means to indulge their capacity for drinking, gambling and women.Where his son had failed his grandson would succeed. He was a Mexton, through and through.
While the master ordered his grandson’s future, Olivia’s mind had been on more domestic affairs. From the kitchen window she had seen the hunting party tramp across the yard. ‘They’re back,’ she exclaimed.
‘Looks like a good bag. They’ll be ready for Sunday dinner,’ Mrs Cookson commented.
‘I don’t like hare,’ Olivia moaned. ‘Do you, Miss Trent?’
‘Yes, with redcurrant.’
‘I’ve a few jars of jelly in the pantry. And I expect they’ve a rabbit or two for you, Miss Olivia.’
‘Perhaps you would care to taste roast hare this Sunday,’ Miss Trent suggested. ‘You are a young woman now and you should try all the dishes.’
‘I don’t see why,’ Olivia replied rebelliously.
‘One day you will be mistress of a large house like this one and you must learn when hare and other game are at their best.A good mistress should know more than her servants about domestic affairs.’
Olivia wrinkled her nose. ‘Do you mean that, one day, I would give orders?’
‘Yes, indeed.’
Olivia considered the notion of being grown-up and running the household at Hill Top. She liked the idea and wondered how she would learn to be a good mistress.
‘Can you teach me?’ she asked.
‘Of course.There are books in the library and I shall ask the master to take out a journal subscription for you.’
Mrs Cookson looked up from her faggots and gravy. ‘She can help me in the kitchen. The master’s so much more work now he doesn’t go into town. And young Hesley will keep having card parties, needing supper for his friends.’
‘We shall both help you, Mrs Cookson.’ Miss Trent reached out for Olivia’s hand. ‘I learned much about prudent domestic management at Blackstone.’
‘Aye, well, the master won’t be wanting too many of those economical ways. We have two barrels of ale in the scullery and the carter delivered sherry and brandy with the provisions.’
‘Cousin Hesley has a new saddle for his horse, too,’ Olivia said, ‘and a new gun. I saw him cleaning it in the gun room.’
‘The master must have paid his suppliers, then,’ Miss Trent observed. ‘Finish your tea, Olivia, then go to the schoolroom for paper and ink. With your permission, Mrs Cookson, we shall make an inventory of all the household linen and china this very day.’
Olivia mopped up the last of her gravy with a crust of bread. This was different, she thought. Miss Trent was always thinking of new tasks for her to tackl
e. At first she had resisted such intrusion into her days. But not the nights: when she woke from her nightmare, cold and alone, her governess always stayed with her until she went back to sleep. And many of her schoolroom exercises interested her. Although she missed the freedom to roam on the moor or hide in the old garden, she liked her hair and clothes to be clean and pretty and she loved reading. On the whole, she was pleased that Miss Trent had come to Hill Top House.
Mrs Cookson stood up.‘Well, the gentlemen will be wanting their supper after all that hunting.’
Olivia sniffed the air. ‘It’s duck.’
‘Aye, I’m doing it slow in the bake oven. That’s your first lesson, Miss. Don’t put duck on the spit because the fat splatters in the fire.’
‘I’ll clear the tea things,’ Miss Trent volunteered.
Olivia went upstairs for writing paper, and Miss Trent drew hot water to wash the pots. When she returned, Olivia helped her governess by drying the plates. They were stacking clean china on the kitchen dresser when she saw Cousin Hesley cross the yard to the stables and later gallop away towards the track down to the town.
Minutes later Uncle Hesley came into the kitchen.‘Cookson, a word.’
Mrs Cookson was checking the duck. She turned smartly. ‘Yes, sir?’
‘We are having house guests for Christmas this year. See to it.’
Olivia inhaled quickly. House guests! She wondered who they might be.
‘And help Matt to clean the carriage,’ Uncle Hesley went on. ‘We shall be using it for our visitors.’
Olivia put down a plate, unable to contain her excitement at this news. ‘The carriage! Oh, Uncle Hesley, please may I ride in it?’
He frowned, first at her and then at her governess, who had stopped what she was doing as soon as he had entered the kitchen. Now she urged Olivia to be quiet.
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