“Meet my family.” Deborah must have realised his awareness of them and drew her hand from his grasp. They approached, the young girl leaping the steps and reaching them first.
“Welcome, Lord Branford. I’m Ruth, Deb’s sister.”
He bowed and kissed her hand. She giggled at that and blurted out, “You were gazing into each other’s eyes. It was beautiful. Deb must be bending her knees.”
Fortunately Sir Daniel and his lady were there then and the greetings became more formal. He couldn’t see how Deborah took her sister’s remark. The last to greet him was the old lady, obviously Bel, his grandfather’s correspondent. There was a special squeeze of her hand from him and a meaningful look. ‘We are in a conspiracy here but you will not betray me, will you?’ He put all the reassurance he could into his smile.
All he wanted now was time to be alone with Deborah. Was she to be the wife of his bosom for ever more? It was very plain to him at the first meal that expectations buzzed in the air above him. Would he declare himself soon? Of course the subject was well buried beneath inquiries about his grandfather’s health, the state of the roads and coaching inns and the reactions in southern England to the union with their northern neighbour. Ruth had obviously been rebuked and said not a word though she treated him to grins and winks when she thought no one was looking. If he could put Deborah into her sister’s outward shape he would never have had a moment’s hesitation. No doubt he would have fallen in love at the first meeting. But the character was not there. The character he loved was in the long being opposite him with the narrow nose, strong jaw, wide, generous mouth and those searching, liquid eyes with ocean colour and ocean depths that rested on his from time to time, saying what? That she was his for the asking? He couldn’t be sure.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Deborah’s first thought when he grasped her hand in his was ‘He hascome for me! What do I do?’ Ruth she would have liked to
slap hard but he seemed to take no notice. In fact he politely but
firmly kept her at a distance after that for which she applauded
him heartily. For the first two days of settling in he was the perfect
guest, deferential to her father and mother, playfully at ease with
Grandmother Bel and warm and gentle to herself. He admired
everything, the house, his room, the cooking, the grounds, the
kitchen garden, the stables, where Peter soon made himself at
home with the two grooms, and even the hens, which were the
finest birds he had ever seen.
I must break through this, she thought. I know they keep leaving
us alone for a short while in the parlour but I am tongue-tied until
I have time and space to tell him about Ranald and he is tonguetied because he senses there is something holding me back. The third morning dawned with a silken sky in which the sun
floated like a golden flower on a lake. The light woke Deborah
early and she looked out of the window to see Frederick Branford
walking on the grass, his feet casting up tiny showers of dew. She
dressed quickly, leaving off her corset, and ran downstairs. When
he saw her coming to meet him he lifted his hat in delight. “Ah the day has brought you out too. It is such a day as we have
in Hertfordshire but I am ashamed to say I thought the north was
cold, cloud and rain.”
He was chuckling in just the way they had done on their travels.
She must check this light-heartedness. The time had come. She
said, “I will show you our woodland walk.”
Without taking his arm she began to stride off towards the gate
into the wood where Ranald had prepared a bed of leaves and would have had her if she had allowed him. This was the place to tell him. Ranald’s presence was there whenever she passed that spot. She could see him beating his fists on the oak tree because she refused him.
Frederick kept pace with her, a little puzzled, she could tell, by her purposefulness.
They passed through the gate and walked into the cool fresh greenness of the new leaves. Sunbeams lit the floor of burgeoning woodland plants.
“Beautiful,” he said.
“Frederick, the story I am going to tell you is not beautiful.” “Story? You are going to tell me a story?” He was looking up at her and his clear honest eyes were inquiring and a little anxious. “You were so good as to tell me yours the very first time we walked in a garden together. I have held back but now we are together again after a long absence and this is my first chance to tell you mine. No one knows we are here and we cannot be interrupted.” She stood still and faced him. “Ah that is what hesaid on this very spot.”
“He?”
There was a fallen log in the sunshine. She walked over to it and sat down. He followed. Their eyes were more on a level. She sensed fear in his as to what was coming next.
“It begins with John as a boy of twelve, willingly kidnapped you might say by an older boy, Alexander Gordon, who loved him. John went with him into Scotland and was caught up in the rising led by the man who became known as Bonnie Dundee.” Frederick nodded to show he had heard of this and she guessed he would connect it with le Vent’s inquiries but she didn’t want to pause. She pressed on.
“Alexander had an older brother, Ranald.” She brought out the name with difficulty. “Between them they trained John to use a shield and weapons and he took part in the Battle of Killiecrankie. He was hurt and the wound festered. The brothers quarrelled over him because Ranald said he must be taken home but Alexander didn’t want him to go. Ranald prevailed. Ranald brought John home to us at great peril of his own life.” She paused. This was a hard thing to tell. “Frederick, he was a giant of a man, taller than my father and broad. I was seventeen but he had never seen a woman so tall. The first thing he said to me was ‘Ye’re a fine specimen of womanhood.’ No man had ever been attracted to me before and I was certain no man ever would. No, let me speak. I loved him for that. I loved him because I was dressed up for a country ball which I missed because of John’s homecoming and he made me dance with him on the grass. He could lift and twirl me and I felt as light as a feather. I was riding on air. I was intoxicated with his admiration. He stayed two days and I showed him this wood. On that piece of ground there he made a bed of leaves and wanted to lie with me. I told him no. He was angry and passionate but came away subdued. Then he had word that his brother had been killed in the battle for Dunkeld. He said he must go and find what they had done with his body. He loved his brother. I was desolate when he went. He told me I was the only woman for him. He said ‘You’re mine! You’re mine!’ and rode away.”
Frederick murmured, “You were so young.”
She held up her hand. She wanted no interruption or she would never be able to tell the rest. “Two weeks later he wrote a letter to my father that he was a prisoner in Edinburgh Castle and due to be hanged as a rebel. He had been betrayed by his brother before his death. That must have cut him sorely for he believed in loyalty above all things. My father wrote a letter to the keeper of the prisoners pleading that Ranald had fallen into their hands only because he had nobly brought John home to us. I saw the letter lying on the dish in the hall and I couldn’t bear that it should wait till the morning to go by the carrier. I got Matt, then our new young groom, to saddle my mare, Bud, and I rode through the night, arriving at the gates of Edinburgh Castle late the next day.” She heard a grunt of amazement from Frederick. “Oh, I had a change of mount, a few minutes’ rest, and a drink and a little food or I would have fainted on the way. Inside the castle I was told the governor was out for the evening. I wouldn’t give the letter to anyone but him. They said Ranald was to hang the next day. I begged to be allowed to see him. A group of drunken officers made a game of it. They would take Gordon his woman and watch him enjoy her.”
“Dear God, you poor girl!” Frederick buried his face in his ha
nds
“They took me down to the vaults where the prisoners were chained. Ranald was wild with joy at seeing me. He threw together some straw mattresses and blustered it out. Let them have their fun, he would give me a child to live after him. I refused. I told him I couldn’t unless we were married in the sight of God. So he told their captain to fetch the prison chaplain. Oh you cannot begin to know what I felt like at the thought that I would become a wife, something I was so sure would never happen to me. And I loved him because he wanted me so much. They fetched a priest and there in the dungeon he married us. I was Ranald’s wife. I loved him and he was to die tomorrow unless my father’s letter and my own pleading could save him. Frederick, I spent the night with him.”
She couldn’t help glancing at his face. He had to meet her eyes. There was a listening intensity in his look. His lips were slightly parted. She hurried on.
“The drunken officers went away after a while. In the morning I was told the governor wanted to see me. I took him the letter but first he wanted to apologise for the behaviour of the officers. I pleaded for Ranald’s life on the grounds of our recent union and I think he was minded to reprieve him. He read my father’s letter but then Father arrived in person and of course he was appalled when I said I was married to Ranald. The governor gave him permission to see Ranald and said he would make his decision on his fate afterwards. We went down. I knew my father was already mad with anger against Ranald but then the corporal of the guard came in and told us that the priest wasn’t a priest at all but a barber. He had been bribed of course but he had a Missal and cap and gown from when he had been an altar boy. He spoke it all beautifully in a soft Irish voice. So now I knew I was not a wife but I was sure Ranald was as much the victim of the drunken captain’s trick as I.” She took a deep breath. “He wasn’t. He’d suggested they find anyone to impersonate a priest so he could enjoy me. That was when my father let rip his anger and Ranald, though chained up, managed to fall on top of him and nearly throttled him. The guards couldn’t fire their muskets. The corporal drew his dagger. I told him to kill Ranald. My father would have died. He stabbed Ranald in the neck and there was blood everywhere. He died, looking at me with reproach in his eyes.”
She stopped. Her breath was coming fast. She sucked in her lips with her teeth and stared unseeing at a primrose next to her foot. She couldn’t look at Frederick. He had said nothing. “That’s the story I had to tell you.” She heard a gulping sound and gave a quick glance at his face. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.
The sight of them released hers. The telling had been agony. Every picture had come back and with them all the hurt. He found his handkerchief and wiped his eyes. His hand sought hers, pressed it and held onto it. He offered her the handkerchief. It was moist from his own tears and she suddenly thought, we can mingle ours, and she used it all over her face and managed to smile at him.
He found a husky voice. “Did you – was there – a child?” She shook her head. “Thank God, no. I imagined a great rough boy and Ruth was a tiny baby at the time. I thought of them growing up together and mine a bastard like his father. But it didn’t happen.”
He had been sitting hunched on the log but now he straightened up and drew a long slow breath. When he had let it out again he said quickly, “Deborah, why did you have to tell me all this – to give yourself so much pain at the memories?” She looked him very straight in the eye. “Oh Frederick, I think you know.”
He got up and paced about a little. The sun had moved off them. He’s cold, she thought. “Are you cold, Frederick?” He came back and stood in front of her. “It makes no difference to me. Your story – except to fill me near to bursting with compassion and admiration – and love. But how can you – how can you – even think – after a man like that roused your love
– how can you – beginto look –”
“I am looking. I’m looking up at you.” She remained seated so that she could do so in truth. “I respect what I see. I am not a giddy girl any more and I thank God I was never married to Ranald and that he did not live to be a husband to me. God knows the good points he had and He will judge him but I believe I would have had no peace as his wife.”
He held out his hands to her. She put hers in his but did not rise.
“Can Igive you peace?” he said. “Will you trust yourself to me?” Everything it meant rushed before her, leaving family, leaving Horden, especially leaving Father, a strange great house in Hertfordshire where she had never been, a mother-in-law she had never met, his aged grandfather, a whole household of servants, a society of snobbish southern grandees, presentation at court perhaps, keeping up being Countess of Branford, terrifying thought. Could it be done for this little man standing before her, his clear gaze pleading for her answer? He had spoken the word love. Yes it was truly happening, a man wanted her again, despite her long lanky body. It was possible for that word wife to apply again to her, even perhaps mother. It would be spoken over her and she would after all this time have the thing that she believed would never ever again happen, a man’s love.
It was the height of folly but she had to do it. She stood up straight. Would he not change his mind? She looked down at him. “Are you still sure you want to ask me this question?”
He nodded. “I want you to be my wife. I will be most honoured if you will be my wife. I do not deserve you but I will go to your father and ask for your hand in the proper way. Only I would like to be assured that you will say yes.”
“Then I will say yes.” She drew an excited breath and gazed about in amazement. She was surrounded by the dazzle of green and gold in this spot which had only had autumn memories. She gave a skip of glee. The burden of the past had gone. She was a new young girl setting out on an adventure. She caught his arm in hers and walked him out of the wood.
They were late for breakfast.
Grandmother Bel took one look at their faces and exclaimed, “Daniel, Eunice, I believe they have something to tell us.” Frederick stepped forward. “Not tell. Askfor. Sir Daniel, I do apologise for not appearing at the correct hour but if I may have a private word with you afterwards I would be most grateful.” Deborah saw the smile on her father’s face and the pain in his eyes as he looked up at her.
“Lord Branford” – he wasn’t looking at him but still at her – “I have nothing more precious that I am free to give you than what I am looking at now. If she is willing then she is yours. We can speak privately about it afterwards but I think the family are too much on tenterhooks for us to keep them waiting.”
She too looked at him with a loving smile and a spasm of sorrow. “I am willing, Father.”
Ruth set up a cheer and clapped her hands. “I shall be a bridesmaid again!”
Her mother frowned her down. “Wait till you’re invited.” Then she looked up at Lord Branford. “There are many things I would like to ask you so I would wish to be present at this private meeting.”
He bowed, a little nervously, Deborah thought. Then he held out his hand to her father who had risen to his feet. “Sir Daniel, I cannot begin to tell you how happy you have made me.” They grasped hands and Deborah, looking from one to the other, thought, it is the men who are struggling with emotion. Mother is calm and I am just amazed that I have reached this point at thirtyfive when I believed life held nothing more for me at all. They sat down and the cook-maid and her girl were summoned to bring in fresh breakfasts.
Afterwards Deborah demanded to be present too in her father’s study. “I am not a parcel to be bargained for but I must be there for our official betrothal.”
Her mother looked doubtful but her father said, “Yes, you are entitled for no one knows our affairs better than you.”
It was soon obvious why her mother didn’t want her there. She put Frederick through what amounted to an examination of his spiritual life before she could feel happy to entrust her daughter to him. Deborah, watching his face and listening to his answers, given with complete openness and no resentment, w
as bursting with love and admiration. Did I take him just to get a man? Well, I have achieved a paragon among men. Her mother too was more than satisfied. She stood up so he immediately rose too.
“I welcome you as my future son.” She took his hands and was then moved to embrace him. “Frederick.” Deborah recalled she had not addressed him as ‘My lord’ since his arrival. “I have only one Lord,” she would say.
He was moved too. “Lady Horden, I am honoured to have your favour.”
“And if you can’t bring yourself to call me Eunice,” she laughed, “I will be happy with Mother-in-law when you two are married. Now I will leave you to do business for that is not the sphere in which I am greatly interested.” She smiled round at them all and left the room.
As he sat down again Deborah took Frederick’s hand and pressed it. “You have flownover the hardest hurdle there.” She mouthed it and her father, gathering papers together, didn’t hear. “Lord Branford,” he began, “our daughter is to be elevated to a life she is not accustomed to with the wealth and grandeur that accompanies it.”
Frederick held up his hand. “Please pause there a moment, Sir Daniel. As you know I was in much humbler circumstances for most of my life, but since my ‘elevation’, if you like to call it that, I have realised that far from grandeur or wealth the house of Branford is teetering along. Now that I have seen the excellent state of Horden Hall I realise more strongly than ever how shabby and ill-cared for our place appears. My mother has done what she can with little touches to her rooms but my grandfather’s age and recent illness have meant that she could not pester him for improvements and alterations that are necessary. Now I wish to go back and see what can be done to make the place fit for my bride. If Deborah were to come to me with nothing I would be rich indeed but any dowry however small would be used wisely for her comfort and happiness.” They were still holding hands and he squeezed hers. “If it is necessary I would happily resume my profession as a lawyer but any advice she can give me about the management of an estate I will be most grateful for. I believe she has been helping you, sir, in the absence of your son.”
Prue Phillipson - Hordens of Horden Hall Page 21
