by Anna Jacobs
Fortunately her status saved them from too many prying questions, while Will’s protective stance and the way he kept exchanging glances with his betrothed lent colour to the idea that this was more than just a marriage of convenience.
And it was, for Sarah at least. During the night, as she had lain happily wakeful contemplating the future, she had admitted to herself at last that she loved Will Pursley, and had done for a while. She thought he was getting fond of her, too, and was happy with their bargain, but she couldn’t imagine him loving her as she loved him.
But still, she did wish he loved her, couldn’t help that.
* * * *
On the following Tuesday, the warm sunny weather tempted Sarah to leave her work and drive herself out along the lanes nearby. This was the first time she’d been out on her own, but Will had said she should be safe now handling a gentle horse like Lally, and all she needed was practice. Hannah, too, approved of her going out and had supervised the harnessing of the old horse in person.
Sarah didn’t realise that her servants were in alliance with Will to prevent her working too hard, and wanted to get her out into the good fresh air that was putting more colour in her cheeks and sparkle in her eyes.
She let Lally clop along the lanes at her own slow pace, staying near the Manor and taking the same route as on her other excursions, happy simply to be out of doors. After a while, she followed a small lane which she knew led back to the main Sawbury road, from whence she could easily make her way home. She was feeling very pleased at how well she had coped and even humming under her breath as the horse made its way placidly along under some trees.
Then they turned a bend and Lally slowed down of her own accord because a carriage was blocking the way at a small cross-roads. With a sinking heart, Sarah recognised the Sewell equipage. Hugh and Izzy were standing nearby and as soon as he saw her, Hugh came striding across. She looked round, feeling suddenly nervous, but there was no space to turn the gig.
This time the one called Hugh spoke to her politely enough. ‘Excuse me, mistress, but Mr Sewell would like a word with you.’ He held out a hand to help her down, but she shook her head.
‘If Mr Sewell wishes to speak to me, then let him get out of his carriage to do so. I see no need to leave my vehicle.’
He reached up and grabbed her arm. ‘Mr Sewell told me to fetch you,’ he said, ignoring what she had said and dragging her from her seat.
‘But the horse!’
‘That old bag of bones won’t run away!’ He set her down and, still holding her arm, walked her across to the carriage. She didn’t attempt to struggle any more, because the man was too strong and she had no wish to be dragged before Mr Sewell in an undignified scuffle. Besides, she couldn’t believe that even Sewell would offer her violence in broad daylight so close to her home. Rumour said he left the actual violence to his henchmen, apart from slashing at people with his cane when he was angry.
At the carriage, Izzy opened the door and gestured to her to get in. She hung back.
‘Pray join us for a moment, Mistress Bedham.’ Sewell’s voice came from inside the vehicle.
When Sarah saw that Mistress Sewell was with her husband in the carriage, she sighed in relief. He would definitely not have brought his wife with him if he’d intended to do her any harm.
He sat smiling, clearly enjoying the sight of her discomfort. ‘You haven’t met my wife yet, have you? Not formally, that is?’
‘No. Er - how do you do, Mistress Sewell?’
‘W - Well, I thank you,’ whispered the woman in the corner. She was pale and had the air of a hunted rabbit. Her eyes flickered to and fro from Sarah to her husband, but she said nothing further.
An ungentle hand poked Sarah in the back and she had no choice but to climb into the carriage or engage in a scuffle.
‘There now, isn’t that cosy?’ asked Mr Sewell, in his rather grating voice. ‘A real neighbourly gathering, eh?’
‘What do you want, sir?’ asked Sarah. ‘I am expected at home.’
‘Oh, I’m sure you can spare us a moment or two of your precious time first.’
The carriage door slammed shut and Sarah couldn’t conceal her nervousness.
‘No need to worry, Mistress Bedham. I mean you no harm, but I thought you might not speak to me willingly - or in private - which is why I accosted you here. And I brought Mrs Sewell with me so that you would feel more at ease. But my wife is susceptible to draughts, are you not, my dear Rosemary? We cannot have her catching another cold, can we?’ His smile was almost a snarl and Sarah felt sorry for the poor shrinking woman in the corner. ‘Is that not so, my dear?’ he repeated.
‘Yes, Matthew.’ But Mistress Sewell’s voice was a mere whisper and she didn’t meet Sarah’s eyes.
‘Well, sir?’ demanded Sarah. ‘What is it you wish to say to me in private?’
He looked at her, not a kindly look, but not a hostile one either - more like a man appraising a new horse. ‘I underestimated you, Mistress Bedham,’ he said at last. ‘I have to admit that I definitely underestimated you.’
‘In what way, sir?’
‘I underestimated your intelligence and shrewdness? When I called upon you, I was completely misled by your appearance. Well, now I see your game more clearly and I salute you for your perspicacity.’
She was puzzled, but tried not to let it show. ‘I am playing no game, sir. I am merely settling into my new home and life.’
‘Oh, come, Mistress Bedham. There’s no need to keep up the pretence any longer! You want more than just a house, I can see that now. You want - shall we call it lifelong security?’
She looked at him in honest puzzlement, but he didn’t notice that, though his wife did and bleated out a ‘Matthew, pray . . . ‘
‘Be quiet, you fool!’
She shuddered and closed her eyes.
‘Well, Mistress Bedham, you shall have your lifelong security. You’ve played your cards well. The cowman was a masterly touch. But we can do better for you than that. I have no objection to a daughter-in-law who has all her wits about her, not when she comes endowed with what I want most as her dowry.’
Sarah was by now convinced that Mr Sewell had run mad, and his wife’s behaviour only lent credence to this idea, for Mistress Sewell had buried her face in her hands.
‘I don’t understand you, sir,’ Sarah said flatly when it became obvious that he was waiting for her to speak.
‘Now you do disappoint me! There are times to keep up a pretence and times to speak openly. I’ve been very frank with you. Pray do me the same courtesy.’
Sarah could only frown at him.
‘My son is, I believe, much more presentable than the cowman, if a little young. He is quite willing to marry you. The estates would match up nicely. You would get the security you want and I would get the land at no cost, or very little, anyway.’
Sarah gazed at him in astonishment as his meaning sank in. ‘Am I to take it . . . Do you mean that you believe my engagement to Mr Pursley to be merely a ploy?’
‘What else could it be? A lady does not marry a cowman!’ But now it was his turn to frown at her, for something in her tone didn’t ring true with the picture he’d painted in his own mind of her character and intentions.
‘It was no ploy,’ Sarah said slowly and clearly, ‘And I wouldn’t marry a son of yours if he was the last man on earth. Nor do I intend to give you my inheritance.’
She made as if to get up and leave, but he pushed her back, ignoring his wife’s bleated, ‘Matthew - please!’
‘You are a fool, after all!’ he spat at Sarah. ‘And will live to regret that decision.’ He opened the door and the same brute who had dragged her from the trap appeared instantly. ‘Get out!’ he snarled at Sarah. ‘Hugh, you’ll have to . . . ‘
A cough from the other side of the road suddenly made Mr Sewell aware that they were not alone. He turned his head and his men spun round, but both froze into stillness as they saw Ted and Joe Haplin
standing there, guns cocked and expressions menacing.
‘Be you all right, Mistress Sarah?’ called Ted, his eyes never leaving the two men and his finger steady on the trigger of his gun.
‘Yes.’ But Sarah was taking no risks. She got out of the carriage as quickly as she could, abandoning dignity in favour of a flurry of petticoats and a rapid departure before Sewell could do anything to detain her.
Ted waved his gun towards one of the men, who had begun to inch forward. ‘Get back, you - ’less you want to have a little accident!’ He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. ‘Some folk can’t stand still for a minute can they, Joe? Want any help there, mistress?’
‘No!’ Sarah climbed up awkwardly into the gig and picked up the reins, as well as the whip she never needed to use on old Lally.
‘I wonder, mistress, if you’d do us the favour of driving us back with you?’ Ted asked. ‘My poor brother’s that tired. Not been well lately, he hasn’t, poor old Joe. Had a lot of disturbed nights.’
Joe grinned broadly, looking the picture of health.
‘Very nervous, he is, as well - ’specially about people what might make sudden moves. I do hope they drive that carriage gently and slowly out of our way, or Joe might pull the trigger of his gun by mistake. He’s that edgy today! We wouldn’t like any accidents to happen, would we?’
The coachman was quick to take a hint and moved the carriage slowly along the lane to a broader place which would allow the others to pass, leaving Hugh and Izzy standing on their own.
‘There,’ said Ted admiringly. ‘Did that all nice and gentle, didn’t he? Not as stupid as he looks. Not quite. Now, mistress, if you please?’
Sarah edged the gig slowly past the coach and the Haplins swung up into it, one at a time. Ted gave a click of his tongue and Lally began trotting towards her home and stables.
Once they had rounded the bend, Ted took the reins from Sarah’s hands, which had suddenly started to tremble. ‘You’re all right now, Mistress Bedham. We’ll see you safe home.’
She took a deep breath. ‘Thank you, Ted. I’m very grateful. How did you know I needed help?’
He spat and rubbed his nose. ‘Didn’t know it were you, mistress. Thought it were Will when I saw that gig standing near the coach without a driver an’ them two grinning at one another beside it. Will Pursley wouldn’t willingly get into a coach to hobnob with Sewell, so I reckoned someone must ha’ forced him.’
‘Ah,’ put in Joe. ‘Them two bully-boys is headin’ for trouble, one way or another. Folks’ll not stand for much more of Sewell’s nasty ways. And if them timid fools what live in the village is afeared to do somethin’, us folk from the Waste aren’t!’ For him this was a long speech and the implied threat left them all silent and thoughtful.
They drove on for a moment or two, then Ted asked in a more normal tone, ‘You sure you’re all right, mistress? You d’look a mite pale still.’
‘Yes. I’m all right. But Ted . ‘
‘Yes, mistress?’
‘I think I would rather you didn’t mention to Will that I had this encounter with Mr Sewell.’
‘D’you reckon that’s wise, mistress?’
‘I don’t know if it’s wise or not, but it’s what I prefer. He might get angry and do something which would put him at risk.’
Ted spat again. ‘All right. Hear that, our Joe?’
‘Ah. But best not go out driving on your own again, mistress. ’Less you’re just going into the village, that is. Can’t lie in wait for you on that little lane, can they? Not with Will’s farm nearby and Santo ready to snap at them.’
‘I’ll be most careful in future.’ She couldn’t prevent another shudder.
When they got to the Manor gates, the two Haplins saw her through, then melted into the woods, leaving her thoughtful.
* * * *
The following week, when the banns were read for a second time, there was an expectant hush, but not the same fuss. As far as the villagers were concerned, Will Pursley had made a shrewd move, getting himself a wife rich in the thing that mattered most - land - and good luck to him!
When the service was over, there were a few grins at the way Will and Thad had Sarah and Mistress Pursley out of the pew before the Sewells could move. Sewell’s face was ruddy, not only with impotent fury at their taking precedence, but also from years of heavy drinking. However, even he didn’t like to make a scene in church.
The sight of his anger made the villagers dig each other in the ribs on the way out. They chortled over it all afterwards, though not when Sewell or his bully-boys could see them, for he had a nasty way of avenging what he saw as insults to himself, did Mr Sewell. But as the villagers told each other gleefully after church, and at intervals during the next few days, it were as good as a summer fair, all this were!
* * * *
That week, Lady Tarnly came to call on Sarah. She was a white-haired old lady of little height or style, but much self-consequence, and she brought one of her married daughters along with her to lend her support. She wasn’t sure she wished for this acquaintance, but her husband had insisted she pay the visit. Henry seemed to have taken quite a fancy to Mistress Sarah, and his wife knew that once he’d decided upon something, he’d stick to it through thick and thin.
It was always easier in the long run to do as he wished in small matters, she had long ago decided. Besides, she did have some curiosity to meet the woman herself.
There was also the question of Mistress Bedham’s projected marriage to be looked into. Lord Tarnly had had what he called a ‘damned impertinent letter’ from that fellow Sewell, saying the new owner of Broadhurst had contracted to marry a common cowman, and if that didn’t prove that she’d taken leave of her senses, he didn’t know what would!
Lady Tarnly had been instructed by her husband to inquire into the matter as soon as possible, to see if there were any truth in it. She sighed as the coach stopped in front of the manor. What Henry thought she could do about it, even if what Sewell said were true, she didn’t know!
In the event, her ladyship was pleasantly surprised by Mistress Bedham, and even her daughter, now Lady Wiltherton, allowed afterwards that the new owner was ‘passable well bred’.
Lady Tarnly left Broadhurst quite in charity with Sarah. A sensible woman. Perfectly frank about her marriage and the reasons for it. No foolish airs and graces. Her ladyship considered that, given the very obvious problems at the Manor, the proposed marriage was an eminently practical solution and therefore to be commended.
If more people cut their coats according to their cloth, there would be a lot less unhappiness in the world, her ladyship often declared, and did not scruple to tell her tenants as much when she caught them being wasteful or extravagant. In fact, it was one of her most cherished beliefs that one should live within one’s means. She herself had never spent a farthing above her husband’s income, never gambled more than she could afford, however fashionable gaming might be, and always paid her trademen’s bills within the sixmonth.
And what’s more, the man wasn’t a cowman at all, but a farmer whom Henry knew, for she remembered him helping Mr Pursley after Sewell threw him off his farm.
If she and her husband did not disdain the company of those who worked the land, then why should this Sewell fellow? Besides, it was quite fashionable to take an interest in agricultural improvement. Lord Tarnly held annual open days for the tenants of his farms, who were encouraged to visit the home farm, which his youngest son, who acted as their land agent, was managing in the most modern way.
Lady Tarnly couldn’t say that she was fascinated by the breeding lines of cattle and sheep, but it was common sense to get the best out of your land, and it was the duty of the nobility to set an example to the lower orders.
When his wife returned and admitted that he was right about Mistress Bedham, who had clearly been raised as a lady, and who was doing a very sensible thing for one with such a sadly limited inheritance, Lord Tarnly slapped his thigh a
nd let out a great roar of laughter.
‘Didn’t I tell you? Didn’t I, by Jove? Knew you’d like poor Elizabeth’s daughter? Breeding will out, whether it’s man or beast! Breeding will always out! And what about this marriage, then?’
‘Mr Sewell has, as usual, twisted the truth. The man in question is a yeoman farmer, not a cowman. You know him. His name is William Pursley.’
‘Pursley, eh? Of course I know him. He’s not a cowman! Knew the father, too. Comes from good farming stock. Family’s been in the district as long as we have. Fallen on hard times lately, thanks to Sewell. Father hung himself when he got into debt with Sewell, then Sewell turned this young fellow off the farm and knocked it down. Damn shame, that!’ He brooded for a moment, then recovered and guffawed again, ‘No wonder Sewell’s hoppin’ mad!’
‘That man’s opinions are a matter of the utmost indifference to me. He is ill bred and I would never agree to receive him here, even for you, Henry.’
‘Knew a Bedham wouldn’t marry a common cowman!’ he crowed again, only half listening to her. ‘One in the eye for Sewell, that!’
‘Yes, dear. Now . . . ’
He wasn’t listening. ‘I believe we should attend the weddin’ ourselves, m’dear. What d’ye say, eh? Give the couple our open support and approval, what?’
Now it was Lady Tarnly’s turn to frown. ‘No one has invited us to attend, Henry. And we don’t even know that there’ll be any festivities to attend. It might be a very simple affair.’
‘Nonsense! People always celebrate a weddin’. And pish to invitations! I’ll drop Mistress Sarah a line myself, or ride over there one day, if you’re too nice to do it.’
‘Do you not think she might be offended?’
‘Not she! Sensible sort of woman. I’ll tell her I’ve heard of the match and approve of it. Offer to give her away, for her mother’s sake. That’ll make Sewell look sick as a horse. And if I drop her a hint that our support will help Pursley to get accepted by the county gentry, I dare say she’ll jump at my offer. She’ll know what it’s worth to be accepted by the Tarnlys, even if Pursley don’t.’
