John was beginning to feel overwhelmed by his host’s neighbourliness which, whatever its guise, seemed to him to be directed towards his wife who had already told him she was to keep the key to the herb garden. ‘I accept the privilege on Ann’s behalf for her to have the loan of books from your library when you are here, Mr Esdaile, but otherwise the offer is too generous. I couldn’t put such a responsibility on my wife’s shoulders.’
Hester, who would have voiced the same answer in her own way, saw the disappointment well up in Ann’s eyes and, with that special love she had for her younger daughter, she put a hand on John’s arm. ‘I’ve had such pleasure from the books you have read with me that I know what this chance means to Ann. Let it be uninterrupted. She and I need not come more than once a month into this house. I’m willing to hold the key with the one I already have if you’re prepared to reconsider your decision.’
He put his hand over hers where it still rested on his sleeve as he conceded, swayed by her argument. ‘In that case, the matter is settled.’
It was not only Ann for whom the evening had taken a new turn. Letticia, who was used to plenty of partners wherever she went, had danced untiringly before she suddenly glimpsed Richard’s late arrival. James had gone across to welcome him and they stood together just inside the ballroom door. Excitement, fury and outrage blended to create a turmoil within her. She would ignore him and concentrate on other partners. If he asked her to dance she would refuse. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him making his way slowly around the outskirts of the room, greeting acquaintances and pausing to chat longer with some than with others.
She was dazzling her present partner with her smile, tilting her head prettily and generally playing to Richard who was never quite where she expected him to be whenever she looked, as if by chance, in his direction, his gaze always maddeningly elsewhere. She knew a gripping moment of panic when the dance ended and she could not see him anywhere. Had he left again already? Then, as her partner began to lead her back to where her family had seats, she saw Richard was talking to her parents. He turned as she approached and came to meet her, his eyes full of smiles.
‘Thank heavens I arrived in time to have the supper dance with you. There was trouble with one of the horses. How are you? Business took me out of London but I made a point of getting back for this evening because I was sure you would be here.’
All was well, but she had had a terrible scare. It felt as if her whole body was trembling inside. ‘Why did you suppose that?’
‘Because you mentioned once that your mother and Mr Esdaile were acquainted.’ There was a fractional pause. ‘I have missed seeing you, Letticia.’
She looked into his face and saw all that she had ever wanted to discover there.
For Hester, the special enjoyment of supper was not so much the food as the sight of such a grand amount of the Esdaile’s silver in use. The centre-piece of the long, damask-covered table was of enormous size, standing on scroll feet, its centre oval dish piled high with grapes, its eight circular smaller dishes holding peaches and plums and cherries, the rich colours of the fruit reflected a thousand times over. Then there were salvers, each with the Esdaile crest, on which the glasses were borne; the tureens with domed covers and pineapple finials; the curved sauceboats; the great dishes with engraved patterns that held salmon and pies and game magnificently garnished, beef and suckling pigs and giant hams; embossed stands that supported crystal bowls of syllabub with sugared violets and the delicate sweetmeat baskets. Over it all the candle-glow from some of the finest candelabra she had ever seen touched delicacies and gleaming silver alike with liquid gold.
John, seeing how she took a last backward look at the table as they returned to the dancing, spoke to her teasingly: ‘Come now, Hester. Tell me your thoughts.’
She shot him a laughing glance, looping her hands about his elbow in its grey velvet sleeve. ‘I was thinking that there’ll never be any Esdaile orders trickling through to our work-bench at any time. Our host has more than enough silver for his requirements and doubtless cupboards stacked full elsewhere.’
‘I’m sure you’re right.’
During supper, Joss and Alice had been seated with some young people of their own age and as they remained with them afterwards Hester supposed Ann to be in their company. She gave herself up to enjoying the rest of the evening, not knowing her daughter had gone in search of the library.
Ann had been given directions by James. She had no intention of returning to the ballroom and no one would miss her. As soon as she heard people departing she would fetch her shawl and rejoin her parents. The second half of the evening ahead of her promised to be far more enjoyable than the first. Her satin shoes made no sound along the downstairs corridor that led to the double doors of the library. She paused in front of a pier-glass and, making a grimace at her own reflection, removed the pins that Letticia had used in her hair and combed her fingers briskly through the collapsed curls until her hair hung softly again. With a final smoothing with her palms her appearance was back to normal. Opening one of the library doors she entered and closed it behind her.
The size of the room astounded her. It was in semi-darkness, the only light coming from two candles on a central library table on which a number of ledgers stood in a stack, one spread open where it had been left. She remembered that her benefactor had said that his library was being catalogued and she would be careful not to disturb anything. But, oh! So many books! She had not supposed for one moment that there would be such a number. Not only did they reach on shelves from floor to ceiling, but they spread in and out of deeply shadowed alcoves which by day would offer private corners for reading.
She began to wander along, tracing her fingers along the backs of the volumes and peering at the titles until, becoming impatient when the small letters proved difficult to read in the gloom, she fetched one of the candles from the table to aid her. In an aura of candlelight she proceeded slowly, smiling and catching her lower lip between her teeth in anticipation when she came across a title proclaiming a book she had long wanted to read.
Intent on her exploration, her candle held close to the shelves for the best illumination possible, she moved on into another shadowed alcove and failed to notice a sprawled-out foot in her path. Suddenly she was tripping; a man gave a shout and she sent several volumes tumbling from the shelves to the floor as she scrabbled to save her balance. A hand gripped her elbow, steadying her, and she looked into the face of a young man who had sprung out of the alcove chair. He had been sound asleep to judge by his flushed cheeks and the heavy look of his eyelids.
‘Have you hurt yourself?’ he asked solicitously, able to judge from her gown that she had come from the ball. Any acquaintance of his employer must be treated with respect.
‘No,’ she replied, still startled. ‘I didn’t know anyone was here.’
He released her wrist and stooped to gather up the fallen books and return them to their places. Of average height, slim-built, he had a thick fall of sandy-hued hair that fell across his forehead and shone silkily in the candlelight. His nose was broad in an almost square face that had a brooding quality to it and his mouth wide with a pugnacious jut to the lower lip as if he was less than pleased by her intrusion.
‘Normally there wouldn’t be,’ he said, ‘but I was working late and tiredness overcame me. I just took a nap in the chair.’
‘You must be the librarian who is cataloguing the books.’
‘That’s right.’ He paused in his task to look at her. ‘How did you know that?’
‘Mr Esdaile told me. He has given me permission to come to his library and borrow books whenever I wish. I couldn’t resist the chance to see what was on the shelves.’
He regarded her with a sudden rise of interest. She must be well-favoured by the Esdailes. ‘My name is Matthew Grant. I hope you will allow me to be of service to you.’
‘I should be pleased. I’m Ann Bateman.’
‘Shall you have to
come far each time?’
‘Not at all. I live in Bunhill Row at Number 107.’
‘So near.’ He knew the house, having taken his bearings as soon as he arrived. She was an artisan’s daughter, no higher in station than himself, for his beginnings had been humbler than his position nowadays. It was not such a surprise that she was being allowed the use of the library as it would have been in some of the grand houses in which he had worked, for James Esdaile was equally at ease with all ranks of his fellow men, which was one of the reasons for his popularity in the city.
‘What sort of books do you like, Miss Bateman?’ Matthew eyed her speculatively. She was nothing to look at with regard to her features, but her expression sparkled as she threw her glance here and there at the book-crammed shelves. He was appraising her figure. Her narrow waist rose out of her wide skirts like the calyx of a flower and her young breasts were full and round. His stare dissolved back to her face as her radiant gaze returned to him.
‘History books and nature books and tales of faraway places,’ she exclaimed.
‘Then you’ll find all you want here. I’ll show you a few of each now if you have some minutes to spare.’
‘Oh, I have,’ she replied eagerly. ‘I’m not going back to the dancing.’
He compressed his lips as he turned away to the nature section on the shelves. If the choice had been his he would have danced the night away. A quiet life out of the city, whether it be London or any other great town, did not suit him and unfortunately much of his work took him to isolated houses set in rural splendour with nothing in the way of entertainment. With his aesthetic tastes he had no time for servant-girls, except when in dire physical need, and country wenches were no better for he was repulsed by uneducated voices and rough manners. Occasionally there had been a pleasing widow alone in a house or a wife bored in her husband’s absence who had looked in his direction, but these turns of good luck were rare.
There was no chance of such a happening in the present household, although with the age difference between the Esdailes he would take a wager that in another few years their relationship would be less stable. It could be argued that here in Bunhill Row he was near enough to the city to be able to enjoy himself, but he had no transport and at the end of a long day it was a heavy tramp into town and back again. He had resigned himself to hours of work and no play until the cataloguing was finished, able to look forward to nothing more than an occasional mug of ale at the Royal Oak. But now this girl was to be a frequent visitor at the library. He gave her a smile as he took down a large volume from a shelf.
‘This is a book you’ll want to study for hours on end.’
He opened it for her on the library table after pushing his own ledgers aside and together they leaned over it. She gazed in wonder at the exquisite illustrations of a mandarin duck, a quail, a strange eagle and many other exotic birds painted by a Chinese hand, every feature distinctive, each eye as bright as if alive. As she turned the pages he brought her more books, the subjects ranging from Ancient Rome to a history of Columbus’s explorations and some fictional works by Defoe that included Robinson Crusoe. He hesitated about Moll Flanders, weighing it in his hand, and then added it out of devilment. It should open those innocent eyes. As it happened she did not look at it then, having been drawn first to those with illustrations that were new to her, for she had never handled such costly books before.
She exclaimed, admired and asked him many questions. By now they had chairs drawn up side by side at the table and, since like most people he found it enjoyable to impart his own knowledge, he answered her readily and was pleased by her appreciativeness. She had the upper hand when together they went through a large volume of English wild flowers and plants. The Latin names meant nothing to her but she was able to give a country name to each, something entirely beyond his ability.
‘I’ve always known that yellow and orange flower as Cuckoos’ Stockings. Those wild lilies are Lords-and-Ladies and they do look stately, don’t you think? How delicately those Wind-flowers have been drawn and coloured in their pinks and whites, and there’s green-and-white Shepherd’s Purse — it really looks like a little purse, doesn’t it?’ She turned another page. ‘Oh, here is Traveller’s Joy, which is a true name because the blossoms look so pretty in the hedges, and that tiny pansy is one of my favourites. It’s called Jump-Up-And-Kiss-Me.’
He glanced at her quickly then to see if there was any coquettishness in her face, but her whole expression was absorbed in the book. ‘I’m impressed,’ he acknowledged. ‘You know them all. How is that? I heard your family came from London!’
‘So we did, but my mother grew up in the country and since we came to live in Bunhill Row I’ve learned the names from her.’
‘Then they all grow around here?’
‘Every one of those I’ve seen in this book so far, although of course it depends on the time of the season.’
‘Would you show me where to look for those that are blooming now? Being a city fellow I should make the most of being in the country area while I’m here.’
‘Indeed you should.’ She had no shyness with him. In books they talked the same language and his kindness to her, his willingness to assist her in her choice of reading in the weeks ahead, and the peacefulness of the library after the swirl and whirl of the ballroom gave her a sense of security in his presence. ‘I could draw a little map and give you clear directions —’
He interrupted her. ‘No, that isn’t what I meant. I should like you to show me if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.’
She was glad to be able to do something for him in return for his assistance to her. Had she been more used to attention from the opposite sex, less resigned to her own lack of attractiveness beside Letticia’s beauty, she would have realized that his request was not as platonic as she supposed. ‘It would be no trouble at all. We can settle on a fine day when you’re free.’
‘What about tomorrow?’ He loathed the boredom of Sundays. His position in the household was an ambiguous one, for not being staff meant he was free of the commitment of church if he should not wish to attend and yet by the same token he was not expected to work on the Sabbath, which he would willingly have done to alleviate the tedium of time on his hands. To take a walk with a girl of gentle manners and a bright mind would pass several hours pleasurably and he saw no reason to postpone it.
She considered. ‘Yes, tomorrow afternoon then. We dine earlier on Sundays. What about you?’
He thought of the countless meals served to him in solitary state, for his position was too high for the servants’ hall and too lowly for the family dining-room. ‘I can eat more or less when I like. Just say the time and I’ll meet you wherever you wish.’
The arrangements were made. Shortly afterwards there came the sound of carriage wheels beginning to roll in the direction of the mansion’s entrance as the ball drew to its close. She rose to her feet reluctantly, sorry that the evening was over, and looked uncertainly at the books selected for her.
‘I can’t take all those now.’
‘Take this one.’ He gave her Robinson Crusoe. ‘You can fetch the rest in turn when you need them.’
She nodded happily. Each book would mean seeing him again, which was a joyful prospect, and in the meantime there was tomorrow to look forward to. ‘Thank you for showing me those beautiful volumes, Mr Grant.’
He saw her to the library door and opened it for her. She sped away, clutching her book, and fetched her shawl in time to reach her parents and her sister as they bade good night to the Esdailes, and no questions were asked.
Both she and Letticia, with whom she shared a room, were quiet while they prepared for bed. It was not unusual for Ann, but after any social event Letticia always had much to tell of romantic encounters and occasionally the giggling confession of a kiss allowed. Tonight was different. Letticia was dreamily silent and her gaze abstracted. Ann found that it was she herself who wanted to talk, although shyness about voicing d
etails of her new friendship made her wait until the candle was out and they were both in their beds. In the moonlight pouring through the window she could see her sister was lying wide awake.
‘Letticia,’ she said softly, smiling to herself where she lay on her back, ‘something wonderful happened this evening.’
To her astonishment, at her words Letticia bounded out of bed and came to hug her. ‘Darling Ann. I should have known that you above all people would have noticed, sensitive creature that you are! You read my expression, did you? Or was it that you saw how Richard and I danced far more dances together than we should have done? We couldn’t stay away from each other.’ She snatched up Ann’s hand and kissed it in her exuberance. ‘I’ve been in a daze ever since those last few minutes before we all left the mansion. I heard Richard ask Father if he might call on him in the morning on a personal matter. There can only be one reason for that! He wants permission to ask me to marry him. This has been the happiest night of my whole life!’ Her voice throbbed and without warning she burst into tears. ‘I’m in love, Ann. There’s no reason to cry but I’m so much in love. I never knew it could happen like this.’
Ann shifted up on her pillows and wrapped her arms around her sister. The moment was gone when she would have told Letticia about her own new friendship, which could not be compared with the miracle of love. ‘I’m so glad for you. You’re shedding tears of joy. May you always be as happy as you are tonight.’
In the morning Richard arrived shortly before noon. He was received by John in the parlour and after a little while the door opened again. Ann, who happened to be crossing the hall, paused as her father beckoned to her. ‘Ask your mother to come here, Ann. And would you fetch your sister?’
‘At once,’ she said, almost in a whisper in the excitement of the occasion.
Letticia received the summons in the flower garden where she was waiting on a shady seat. She nodded as Ann approached, no word being needed, and automatically touched a curl into place. As she rose from the seat and went indoors she realized that in her calculated way she had never expected the bonus of love in the marriage of her choice and yet it was to be hers. For the first time in her life she felt humble before the good fortune that had come to her. Well, she would not accept it lightly. It should radiate from her to her parents and her sister and her brothers. Nobody should lose through the bond soon to be forged, least of all Richard himself.
The Silver Touch Page 23
