by Anna Jacobs
‘Ah. He was for a time. But she wouldn’t marry a poor man, wouldn’t Amy, so she broke it off when he was told to leave the farm. The very next day she sent her father to tell him, the heartless jade. He took it hard, coming on top of everything else.’
She looked sideways at her mistress and added, ‘He’s a good farmer, is Will Pursley, best in the district. And Parson do set a lot of store by him too. Make a good husband, he would!’
‘I’m too tired to gossip,’ declared Sarah, and cut off the conversation by rolling over and closing her eyes. But her thoughts didn’t stop twisting about inside her head. Would he even consider it? Dare she ask him? Oh, no, it was not to be thought of. She would die of humiliation if he turned her down.
No, she didn’t dare risk it. Definitely not.
But if he were to accept . . ?
Chapter 8
‘Mistress! Mistress! Come quick! Someone hev opened up the gates and let in one o’ they cows from the village!’ Mary came rushing into the house, shrieking the news. ‘Jack Boddy's Tinker, it be. Come quick! Will Pursley be chasin’ her now, tryin’ to drive her away.’
She saw with satisfaction that she had an attentive audience and indulged her taste for dramatic gloom still further. ‘Likely all his cows will hev took the cattle sickness from her an’ we’ll lose the whole herd!’
‘Oh, no!’ Sarah slipped her iron pattens on over her house shoes to lift her out of the mud, and limped out with the others to see what she could do to help. Her quarrel of the previous day with Will was completely forgotten, as well as her embarrassment at the thoughts he aroused in her, for she knew how bad this could be for him.
She found the cows milling about on the grass near the yard and a strange animal, a scrawny red-brown beast, tied up in a corner of the yard lowing miserably, while Will stood with hands on hips scowling at it.
He turned towards her. ‘You should be resting today. And don’t try to come over here. It’s slippery.’
‘I heard about the cow and wanted to know if we could do anything to help you.’
He came across to join her, his fists clenched by his sides, anger in every line of his body. ‘It’s a good thing Robin built that inner fence around my cows. Otherwise we might be in trouble. This was done on purpose, you know. I came over to fetch the cows for milking and found the small gate open. I closed it myself last night. I’m always careful about it.’
He drew in a breath rough with anger. ‘This has got to be more of Sewell’s work. His men must have had a hard job persuading that poor beast to walk though the small gate, for she’s always been skittish.’
‘Are you sure? Why should he persist in this vindictiveness? Could it not be just - just an accident?’ Her voice tailed away.
‘I told you. I closed the gate myself last night. And anyway, the padlock was sawn through. This was no accident; it was planned. Sewell told me when he turned me off the farm that he wanted me out of the neighbourhood. I’ll not rest till I’ve got rid of you, he said. I’ve never forgotten his words - or his tone! And he’s driven others away, once he’s set his mind to it.’
She placed her hand on his arm. ‘I’m so sorry! But he won’t be able to drive you away from your home and job because I shan’t listen to anything he says.’
He patted her hand absent-mindedly, clasping it for a moment in his warm hand. ‘Sewell’s trying to get at both of us this way. Don’t mistake it, he’s taken against you as well and he won’t stop till he’s got what he wants - or until he’s dead.’
‘Can’t anyone stop him? There must be something we can do!’
He let out a snort of bitter laughter. ‘Tell me what? We have no proof and no prospect of obtaining any, he’s such a cunning devil. And if I did make a complaint against him, who would listen to me? Sewell turned me off his farm two years ago. They'd say it was spite on my part.’
He let go of her hand and gripped the frame of the back door, his knuckles white with the pressure, as he added in a low voice, ‘And besides, he’s gentry; I’m not. That makes a difference.’
‘Could I not do the complaining, then? This is my land, after all.’
He let out a soft noise, an approving murmur. Smiling at her, he patted her hand once again, staring but saying nothing.
She could only stare back at him, for this touch had sent a warm feeling running through her whole body.
After a minute or so, he shook his head, like a man waking himself up. ‘They'd not listen to you, either, Mistress Bedham. You’re a newcomer and a lady. What do you know about such things? And what proof have you, either? Sewell’s got a nasty little lawyer in Sawbury, who looks after his interests and would probably sue you for slander if you tried to do anything. He delights in lawsuits, that man does. And in inventing debts.’
‘But - is the justice of the peace on his side too? That’s Lord Tarnly, isn’t it? Surely he’s not a friend of that man?’
‘Lord Tarnly's fair enough and he doesn’t seem to think much of Sewell - well, that’s what folk say. He doesn’t invite the Sewells over to visit, as he does the other gentry. But he’d not take action against him on just your word.’ He spoke factually, not meaning to insult her.
‘But we could at least tell him what we suspect and . . . ’
He shook his head. ‘Mistress Bedham, believe me, it’s no use wasting our time. We can only keep a better watch on the beasts in future. I’ll order another padlock for the side gate this very day.’ He left her and went over to fasten a leading rope round the frightened cow's neck.
She watched him gentling the animal, her heart aching for his helplessness in the face of these attacks.
Will looked across at her. The yard was full of people, but he spoke only to her. ‘I’d better return this poor creature to its owner, I suppose.’
She could see that even in his distress, his hands were careful as he tugged it gently into movement.
‘Mary, you can see to the other cows this morning, can’t you? You’re a good milker. But take care that you wash your hands and the udders properly! My mother has scalded out the pails already.’
Bridling with imperfectly concealed pleasure at this compliment from a man who did not give them lightly, Mary marched across to the cows and slapped the nearest one on the rump. ‘Come on, my little lovie. Come and let Mary milk you.’
It occurred to Sarah, as she watched Will disappear across the meadow, that no one ever disputed Will’s orders - even on her land. She smiled wryly. He was a good master, but a firm one. Would he make a good husband, too?
If only she had some idea of how he might feel about the idea, she might put it to the test? If she could only pluck up the courage.
* * * *
But Mr Sewell had not yet finished making mischief. On the very next day a carriage with a crest on its doors drove up to the Manor and a footman jumped down from his perch at the rear to rap on the front door of the house. Hannah, who answered it, demonstrated how much she had learned from her new mistress in a very short space of time by showing in the three visitors with calm confidence.
Two embarrassed-looking gentlemen hovered in the doorway of Sarah’s parlour, as if they did not wish to enter. The third visitor was Sam Poulter, who stood shuffling his feet in the hallway behind them, looking everywhere but at Sarah. She had expected the visitor to be some lady come to call upon her, but this was obviously an official deputation of some sort.
What now?
She stood up instinctively to face them, wondering what they wanted and not reassured by their demeanour. ‘'Please come in, gentlemen.’
They moved forward and the minute he entered the room, Sam Poulter burst into speech. ‘This weren’t my idea, mistress. I didn’t want to come a-botherin’ of you. Nor I don’t believe what that man says!’
The elder of the two gentlemen gestured to him impatiently. ‘Quiet, fellow! You’re here in your official capacity as Constable of this parish. Introduce us, since you have already met the lady, then l
eave us to conduct this interview.’
Sam muttered something under his breath and looked apologetically at Sarah. ‘This is Lord Tarnly, mistress, and this is Dr Shadderby. They’ve come over from Sawbury to see you.’
Both gentlemen bowed gravely.
Sarah inclined her head. ‘Will you not sit down?’ When they were installed on two armchairs, she waited to see what they wanted.
Lord Tarnly cleared his throat. ‘Er - you claim to be Sarah Bedham, daughter of Elizabeth Mortonby, née Bedham, I believe?’
Sarah stiffened. Claim to be! What did he mean by that? ‘I take exception to that remark, sir! I am Sarah Bedham, and why you are offering me such an insult, I cannot imagine!’ She glared across at them.
Lord Tarnly made a hrumphing noise in his throat. Whatever the rights and wrongs of the case, it was immediately obvious to him that he was dealing with a gentlewoman. And now he, who had always prided himself on his considerate dealings with the weaker sex, must offer this strange lady further insults. He cursed Sewell mentally. The fellow was a trickster and was after something, even if he had dressed this complaint up in legal terms.
Sarah waited to be enlightened, tapping her foot impatiently. The doctor avoided everyone’s eyes and gazed alternately out of the window then back at his feet, as if dissociating himself from the whole business, whilst poor Sam continued to shuffle his feet by the door and mutter under his breath.
‘I am - ahem - I am here in my capacity as Justice of the Peace,’ stated Lord Tarnly, taking refuge in formality, ‘to - er - to investigate certain complaints that have - er - been laid against you.’
Sarah felt icily calm, having no doubt in her mind as to who had laid the complaints, though on what grounds she could not imagine. She stared at his lordship unwinkingly, leaving him to flounder on through his explanation.
‘The - ahem - the complainant alleges that you are - er - well, an impostor, and that you have - er - fraudulently taken possession of this house and land, which he had an agreement to purchase. We are here to make preliminary enquiries into the matter, to see whether there is a case to be answered.’
She said nothing, for she did not trust herself to speak, but anger churned inside her. Will was right! Sewell was trying to find other ways to harm her!
‘And,’ Lord Henry continued, doggedly doing his duty, but finding it even more distasteful than he had expected, ‘the complainant further alleges that you are - ahem - not in full possession of your mental faculties. The - er - the doctor is here to testify as to your - your rationality.’ His face was scarlet with embarrassment by now, for he had never had to offer such an insult to a lady in his entire life.
Sarah felt quite sick with fury, but this was not the time to lose control of herself. ‘I begin, sir, to weary of Mr Sewell’s interference in my life. I shall furnish you with the name and address of Mr Jamieson, my family’s lawyer in London. He is quite satisfied as to my identity. And if you will excuse me for a moment, I can show you a copy of the deposition made by Mr Peabody, my mother's lawyer in London, who has known me all my life.’
She limped from the room, returning with Hannah in tow, to give her moral support. ‘I should prefer, gentleman,’ Sarah stated, with icy calm, ‘to have my housekeeper present as witness to this . . . impertinence.’
Hannah, not subservient and overawed by her company like Sam, was furious that anyone should dare lay a complaint against her mistress. She stationed herself behind Sarah’s chair, folded her arms and stared accusingly at these people who had come on the Devil's business.
Sarah handed the deposition to Hannah. ‘Pray give this to Lord Tarnly.’
Hannah marched across the room and slapped it into his hand, with no respect for his status.
Scarlet-faced, he studied it, then stood up to pass it to the doctor.
‘Ahem!’ said his lordship, trying a more cunning approach, just to be certain, for he did not wish to have to return on a similar errand if that damned weasly lawyer of Sewell’s complained about how they had done this. ‘I was - er - acquainted with your mother. Tall woman with fair hair, a bit like yours.’
Was that the best he could do? thought Sarah scornfully. ‘My mother, sir - as you must be well aware, since you were her godfather - was a short woman, with dark hair. I have here her locket, which you gave to her on her sixteenth birthday.’ She unfastened it from her neck and held it out.
Hannah took it from her and passed it to his lordship in disapproving silence.
He took it in his hands, recognising it at once. His expression grew sad as he studied the face inside it. To think that pretty little Elizabeth, whom he had known from birth, was dead before him!
‘Hrrumph. That’s certainly the locket I gave my god-daughter. No doubt at all about that.’
Sarah decided it would be wise to supply him with further proof. ‘Moreover, I remember my mother telling me many things about you. You were Master of Hounds and you used to ride a big grey called Captain, which would dance for a piece of sugar loaf.’
He could only gape at her and finger the locket again.
‘My mother, sir, often used to reminisce about her youth and I believe I have heard tales about most of the people she knew. Am I correct so far?’
‘Well - er - ahem - yes.’
‘Pray question me further. We don’t wish to leave any doubt in Mr Sewell’s mind, do we?’
‘No need for that, ma’am. I am convinced of your identity.’ He produced a large handkerchief and mopped his brow. 'Fully convinced.’
Sarah turned to the doctor. ‘Have you no questions to ask me, sir? If you are here to question my sanity, then pray proceed! For I have better things to do with the rest of my day, I promise you, and would prefer to settle this ridiculous business quickly.’
It was the doctor's turn to display extreme embarrassment. ‘Been observing you, madam - er - Mistress Bedham, I should say, from the moment we arrived.’
‘And, have you come to any conclusions about my mental capacities, sir?’
‘I have no doubts about either your sanity or your breeding, Mistress Bedham. You seem a remarkably lucid young woman and have coped admirably with a difficult situation.’
‘Thank you.’
He bowed slightly. ‘My name's Shadderby. Surgeon and physician. At your service any time. Teeth pulled, draughts concocted, only the best leeches used.’ He bowed again, ignoring his lordship, and walked out of the room. He had no intention of further antagonising a potential client.
He was followed with alacrity by Sam Poulter, who had already been made aware of his Prue's displeasure about this attack on Mistress Elizabeth's daughter. Not that he’d had any choice about coming, he thought aggrievedly. He was the village Constable, after all. But Prue wouldn’t take that into account, would she? When something upset her, she just let fly. He was in for an uncomfortable evening, he had no doubt.
Left alone with his icily polite hostess, Lord Henry begged Mistress Bedham to accept his apologies and to believe that he had only been doing his duty, however distasteful. ‘Thought it best to inquire informally into the matter, before allowin’ anyone to take official steps. Save us all a dashed lot of trouble. But regret the inconvenience. Deeply regret it. Trust you'll accept my apologies and take no offence. Pray believe that you have my very best wishes for your future here.’
Sarah bowed her head slightly and requested Hannah to show the gentlemen out.
* * * *
‘By Jove,’ Lord Henry told his wife that same evening over supper, ‘damme if I didn’t know her for a Bedham almost from the first - without that damned deposition or the locket! Cool as ice, she was, and had a look of her great-grandfather. Remember him well. She could have been his sister today - well, I know he didn’t have one, but if he had had - What's that? Oh, she’s a great tall maypole of a woman. Not pretty, though not ugly, either - no style at all in her dress, and lame into the bargain. Had to admire her courage, though. Didn’t flinch, didn’t weep an
d wail. Set us in our places good and proper. What?’
He blew out an angry puff of air. ‘No, of course she’s a gentlewoman. Saw that at a glance. Her behaviour throughout showed excellent breeding. She made me feel dashed uncomfortable, I can tell you! By George, she certainly did that!’ He shuddered at the memory and paused for a moment to wipe his brow.
‘That Sewell fellow ranted and raved like a madman when he came to lay the complaint before me. Shouting and threatening me. Never did take to him. Common fellow! Ugly customer, too. Treats his dependants harshly. No sense of duty. Well, this is one trick he didn’t win, as I was pleased to inform him. What? Oh yes, I visited him after I’d left her. Thought it needed doing at once before he took the law into his own hands.’
As he was getting into bed, he burst out laughing. ‘Damned if Mistress Bedham didn’t rout us, horse and foot,’ he told his wife. ‘Shouldn't object to you calling on her sometime, my dear. In fact, be grateful if you would. Owe her a bit of recognition by way of an apology.’
‘She is Elizabeth Bedham's daughter, then?’
‘Not a doubt of it!’
‘Then of course I shall call! I don’t expect to enjoy the visit, but you have never found me lacking in the common courtesies, I trust, Henry?’
‘Certainly not, my love! Besides, her mother was my god-daughter. Feel a bit guilty that I never tried to find out what happened to Elizabeth. Make it up to the daughter a bit, eh?’
* * * *
When Will heard about Lord Tarnly’s visit, he hurried to the Manor to see how Sarah was, angry that she should have been treated like that and expecting to find her upset. She should not have had to face them alone. He realised in mild surprise that he had started to think of her by her first name. Well, it suited her better than the stiffness of ‘Mistress Bedham’ and she wasn’t one to stand on ceremony.
However, when he arrived he found her triumphant, eager to share both her anger at being questioned like that and her pride in how she had dealt with the situation.
