The house itself was a surprise. The door from the verandah led into a large room, which she guessed to be thirty feet or more long and two thirds of its length wide. To the far right of her a table was set out for a meal, the glass on it glinting in the shaded dimness of the room. To the left of her in the end wall was a stone fireplace, the open area being almost concealed by a huge jug of dried grasses. At right angles to the fireplace was a couch covered with various animal skins lying loosely on it. There were a number of chairs in the room, one large and hide-covered; the others she took to be wooden chairs, but with one noticeable difference from those she had seen beforehand, these were all polished.
There were three doors in the room, one by which she had entered, one almost opposite leading into a passageway, the third at the end of the room where the dining table was. The whole atmosphere gave off a sense of comfort touching on elegance. This last was created by, of all things, a diamond-paned china cabinet standing to the right of the doorway that led into the corridor. There were four windows giving on to the verandah, which shaded the light that would otherwise have penetrated the room.
‘Isn’t it a lovely room?’ Matthew threw his arm out in a wide sweep, and she nodded at him, smiling as she said, ‘Yes, indeed it is.’
‘Never mind about admiring the room. Take your wife to your quarters; I’m sure she needs to freshen up after her little jaunt.’ Laughter accompanied the last words and the sound was high, unexpected coming from the full-lipped wide mouth.
As Matthew led Tilly towards the corridor Katie was about to follow with the child in her arms when for a moment she imagined that the tall man was going to stop her passage for he made a movement with his hand, then checked it. Following this he inclined his head slightly towards her: it was permission that she could cross the room and follow her mistress.
The apartments were two rooms at the end of the corridor. The bedroom was comfortably furnished, the window looking out on to an open space where a number of horses were standing as if asleep. The other room was a kind of dressing-room-cum-study; in it was a wash-hand stand holding a jug and basin, and clean white towels hung from a rack beside it.
As she took off her coat and hat she let out a long sigh which brought Matthew to come and stand in front of her, and there was a note of slight anxiety in his voice as he said, ‘Well, this is it. What do you think?’
She did not return his smile as she answered, ‘I think it’s too early to say.’
‘Oh, Matilda! You’re going to like it, you must, it’s going to be our home.’
‘Always? In this house with . . . with your uncle?’
‘Don’t you like him?’
She turned her head slightly to the side. ‘I’ve hardly met him. I glimpsed a tall, aristocratic man who was delighted to have you back but would have preferred you to have come alone.’
‘Oh now! Now!’ He wagged his finger in her face. ‘If you’ve only glimpsed him for a moment, as you say, how can you make that out? Be fair. I’d wait a little while before you pass judgment on him. He’s a fine man. He has his faults, haven’t we all, but you’ll come to like and respect him. You’ll see.’
‘Where is his daughter?’
‘Oh, she’s likely in the dog run.’
‘The what!’ She screwed up her face at him, and he now said, ‘Oh, that isn’t as bad as it sounds. It was the original house built here years ago, it’s a kind of log hut with an open runway going through it. Anyway, we’ll see it all later on.’
‘But why does she live there?’
‘Oh, it’s a long story and interesting, and I’ll tell you about it later . . . Come now.’
‘Wait.’ She pushed him gently aside. ‘I must see to Katie and the child; I’d forgotten . . . ’
‘Oh yes, yes, of course.’
Tilly opened the door to see Katie, her face straight, standing holding the child, and she took the boy into her arms, saying, ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Katie. We’ll get settled shortly.’ She now turned towards Matthew. ‘What . . . what about Katie and a room for the nursery?’
He stood looking at her for a moment gnawing on his lip, a look of perplexity on his face; then going past them, he said, ‘Just wait a moment, I’ll see Uncle.’
‘Come in and sit down.’ Tilly motioned Katie into the room, and Katie came in but she didn’t sit down. Looking at Tilly, she said, ‘He wasn’t going to let me across the room.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘That man, his uncle, he was for making me go round the back, wherever that is.’
‘Oh no!’
‘Oh aye, Tilly, I saw it in his face: What is the meaning of this! Wrong door, tradesmen’s entrance. You know what it was like back home.’
Tilly bowed her head for a moment before she said, ‘It’s all going to be so different from back home, Katie; we’ve both got to understand that.’
‘Oh, I understand it, never fear. Don’t worry about me.’ Katie smiled at her now, but it was a tight smile. ‘Only you can’t help noticin’ things, an’ some of them pip you. You know what I mean?’
‘Yes. I know what you mean.’ They looked at each other and nodded, and they both knew that the servant-mistress association was going to be much more difficult in this home than it had been at the Manor . . .
They had taken the child’s dust-covered outer clothes off, washed his hands and face; Tilly had also freshened herself with a wash and told Katie to do the same; following this, they sat waiting for another five minutes before Tilly, rising impatiently to her feet, said, ‘I’ll go and see what’s happening.’
Leaving the room, she went along the corridor and through the open door that led into the main room. There was no-one in the room except a Mexican, who looked very like Diego. He had been attending to the table and he glanced towards her and in stilted English said, ‘Ma’am, I . . . I Emilio.’
‘Hello, Emilio.’ She inclined her head towards him, and he bowed slightly before turning and walking towards the door beyond the table.
Alone, she could now hear voices coming from beyond the fireplace end of the room. There was no door there, just a heavy embroidered curtain hanging on the wall. She had earlier taken it to be a piece of tapestry but now she realised that there must be a room beyond. She was nearing it when she stopped as the old man’s voice came to her, saying, ‘As I said, I’m not against you marrying, my dear boy, but a widow with a child! You say her husband was a gentleman?’
‘Yes.’ The syllable was curt.
‘Landed?’
‘Yes, the owner of an estate, and a mine.’
‘Did he leave her well off?’
‘She has an income.’
‘It must have happened very quickly.’
‘No, not at all, Uncle. I’ve been in love with her for years.’
‘As a married woman?’ There was a shocked note in the question.
‘Yes, as a married woman; and before.’
‘You must have been a mere boy. How long was she married?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, two or three years, five perhaps.’
‘Well, I’m sorry to say it, Matthew, but she doesn’t on first appearance seem to be the type that will settle for this kind of life; she is dressed and certainly looks like a town woman.’
‘You don’t know anything about her as yet, Uncle. She’s had a strange life, a hard life in some ways. She . . . ’
‘Hard? But you said she was married to a gentleman?’
There was a silence now and during it Tilly turned away, but as she did so Matthew’s voice came to her, saying, ‘And he was a gentleman, very much so. I . . . I shall tell you about him some day perhaps. In the meantime, Uncle, as I asked earlier, can you tell me where I can house the child and the maid?’
When she returned to the room at the end of the corridor she paused before opening the door and drew in a long shuddering breath, she mustn’t let Katie see she was upset.
On entering the room, she said, ‘He’s talki
ng to his uncle; they must be arranging something.’
‘What’s the matter?’ Katie got to her feet; ‘you look white.’
‘I feel white; it’s been a long journey.’
‘Aye, you could say that.’
Of a sudden Tilly put out her hands and grabbed those of the dumpy young woman facing her, and her voice had a break in it as she said, ‘Oh! Katie, I’m glad you came with me, and never more than at this minute.’
Within an hour the space with the dormer windows under the roof had been cleared by four negroes, one a man with white hair, another in his middle years, the other two in their early twenties.
While this was being done, Matthew escorted Tilly around the homestead, and she made the acquaintance of Luisa Portes.
They had left the house by the door at the end of the main room, walked across some duckboards and into a room that Tilly took to be a kitchen, for it was fully equipped with all that was needed in a kitchen including a table and a wood oven stove, besides rows of pans and kitchen utensils hanging on one wall and a rough-hewn dresser flanking the opposite one.
Emilio was in the kitchen. He was grinding meat through an iron sieve bolted to the corner of the table, and he stopped his work and smiled at them, but waited for Matthew to speak. ‘Good to see you again, Emilio,’ Matthew said.
‘And you, young boss.’
‘How are the children?’
‘Very well, thrivin’ . . . that is right? thrivin’?’
‘Yes’ – Matthew laughed now – ‘that is right, thriving . . . Where is Miss Luisa?’
‘In quarter.’ The man jerked his head backwards.
‘Thank you.’ Matthew took her arm now and led her out of another door where there was another set of duckboards leading to a door opposite, but he didn’t take her through this door; instead, stepping off the boards on to the rough ground, he guided her to the front of the house and on to yet another layer of duckboards. These fronted a doorless space, through which she could see to the far end and out to where a tree was growing.
When she glanced at him enquiringly he said, speaking under his breath now, ‘This is called a dog run. It was at one time used for sheltering the animals; it also serves another purpose, it forms an air tunnel in high summer, and you need it, I can tell you.’
Tilly followed him into the open space which had two doors on either side and when he tapped on one of them it was opened almost immediately and Tilly found herself looking down on a woman whose age puzzled her at the moment. The woman was small and sturdily built; she was wearing a long faded serge skirt and a striped blouse over which was a fine fur-skin waistcoat. Her hair was drawn tightly back from her forehead; it was black without a trace of grey in it. Her face appeared square owing to the width of her jaw, her skin had a warm olive tint and her eyes lying in deep hollows appeared black, but a fiery black.
‘Hello, Luisa.’
The woman looked from Matthew to Tilly and into her eyes for some seconds before answering Matthew’s greeting, saying simply, ‘Hello.’ Then standing aside, she allowed them to enter the room.
Tilly had no time to take in more than a fleeting impression of the room but that was enough to tell her that the place looked comfortless, even stark in its furnishing, which was so utterly in contrast to that in the big room across the yard.
When Matthew said, ‘My wife, Luisa,’ Tilly held out her hand, saying, ‘I’m very pleased to meet you.’
It was with some hesitation that Tilly’s hand was taken. She was surprised at the hard firmness of the grip; then she was more surprised, even startled when the woman gave a laugh and, looking her up and down, she said, ‘You’d be anything but a welcome surprise to him.’
‘Come, come, Luisa.’ Matthew caught hold of her arm. ‘Don’t tell me things haven’t improved; you promised you would try.’
‘I promised no such thing.’ Luisa withdrew her arm with a jerk from Matthew’s hold. ‘And as for improving, you know that’s an impossibility; things don’t improve with him, they only get worse. Oh . . . oh’ – she now shook her head from side to side – ‘this isn’t done I know.’ She was looking at Tilly now. ‘One should be polite and greet the guests, but as you’re going to live here you might as well know how things stand from the start. So I can tell you I hate that man across there and always will. I cook for him, and that’s as far as it goes. I don’t enter his house, but you’ – there was a suspicion, just a suspicion of a smile on her face now as she added, ‘you’re in a different position, you’ll be living under his roof and you’ll make up your mind for yourself. And I can tell you this right away, if he decides to put on a good face for you now that he has partly lost his adopted son to you’ – she jerked her head towards Matthew – ‘you’ll find me in the wrong. My attitude you’ll put down to that of a crabbed old maid. Well, so be it, time will tell. Anyway, I’m glad to see you. It’s good to see another woman’s face about the place, a white woman’s, and if things get too hot for you over in the . . . palace, then you’ll always be welcome to use this’ – she made a flicking movement with her hand – ‘as a fort.’
‘Thank you.’ Tilly smiled at the woman and she knew immediately that she was going to like her, she did like her, whereas she doubted if she would like her father.
‘I’ll take you at your word,’ she said; and with her next words she didn’t consider if she was vexing or pleasing Matthew, but she added, ‘And I’ll bring the baby and my friend too.’ She made a ‘Huh!’ sound in her throat now as she ended, ‘She’s supposed to be nursemaid to the child but we’ve been friends for many years.’
As she ended she cast a glance at Matthew. He was looking at her quizzically but he said nothing.
‘Sit down and have a drink. What is it for you, the same as usual?’
‘Yes, Luisa, the same as usual.’
‘And you? By the way, what must I call you?’
‘Ti . . . Matilda.’
‘Matilda. Well, Matilda, what’s your drink? I can offer you one of three, Spanish wine, brandy or whisky.’
‘I’ll have the wine, please.’ Tilly watched the small woman go to a cupboard in the wall and take out two bottles and three glasses, and when she had poured out the drinks she handed Tilly the wine, and as she gave Matthew the glass of brandy she said briefly, ‘Bear hunt next week. Far better if they joined the rangers; ten bears ain’t half as troublesome as one Indian. Mack’s out you know.’
‘Where?’
‘Waco, beyond the falls, bloody Comanches. It’s been quiet for too long. More families have settled up there now and that’s drawing the bloody barbarians out again.’
‘Which group is he riding with?’
‘O’Toole’s.’
‘O’Toole’s? When did they leave?’
‘The day before yesterday. And—’ she nodded now, a sneer on her face and in her voice as she said, ‘You won’t believe it, you know what that Jefferson Davis has gone and done?’ She waited while Matthew stared at her. ‘Supplied the army with camels. Huh! Huh! did you ever hear anything like it? Camels! If he spent the money on reinforcing the rangers instead on humpty-backed camels we’d likely get somewhere. They make me bloody mad these politicians.’ On this she lifted the glass to her mouth and threw her drink off in one gulp; then banging the glass down on a rough wooden table to her side, she said, ‘Forts, forts, forts! They’ll soon have as many bloody forts as they have buffalo; they’re springing up all over the damn place.’
‘Well, as I see it, Luisa, that isn’t a bad thing.’
‘New one up river, near the Brazos Reservation, Fort Belknap. But they opened that before you left, didn’t they? Then the fellows tell me there’s another one below Brazos Reservation, Phantom Hill they call that one. Oh my God! we won’t see the wood for the trees shortly. Another drink?’ She looked from one to the other, and Matthew, getting to his feet, said, ‘No thanks, not at the moment, Luisa; we’re just going round the rest of the standing.’
At the d
oor, Luisa looked up into Tilly’s face as she said quietly, ‘If you’re going to stay, make him’ – she now thumbed towards Matthew – ‘build you a house outside.’
‘I’ll . . . I’ll see he does that.’
‘Don’t wait too long.’
‘I won’t.’
‘Come on. Come on.’ Matthew gave her arm a sharp tug that caused her almost to jump off the step on to the duck board and to reprimand him, not actually in the words but in the tone that she gave to them as she said, ‘Please, Matthew, careful.’
He was walking a little ahead of her as he remarked coolly now, ‘You won’t have to listen . . . at least you won’t have to believe all that Luisa says.’
‘Then I shouldn’t insist on us having a home of our own?’
‘Not yet at any rate.’
‘And this talk of Indians and raids, you haven’t told me any of this, Matthew; you indicated all this happened miles away.’
He slowed up and walked by her side now, his head slightly bent, and his voice was low but had a forced patient note to it as he said, ‘This is a new country, there’s always skirmishes. Most of the Indians have become friendly but there are some who won’t toe the line. They’ve got to be made to fall into place, the place allotted to them by the state. So’ – he turned and looked at her – ‘there’ll always be skirmishes but, as I’ve already told you, they take place hundreds of miles away.’
‘Well, why does everyone seem to carry a gun? I noticed guns on each side of the fireplace in your uncle’s room and one standing near the door. There was that little boy we passed, he had a gun while he was working in the fields.’
‘It was at one time a necessary form of protection, now it has become a habit. That’s all.’
Tilly Trotter Wed (The Tilly Trotter Trilogy) Page 22
