He had been quite a tall man but was very bowed now and leaning on two sticks. Frederick jumped to his feet and helped him to a seat. Deborah rose too but seeing how hard it was for him to turn his head to peer up at her she crouched before him and took his hand.
“How are you, my lord? I trust you have not risen from your bed because of my coming?”
“No no no.” His voice was faint and husky. “I am trying to get out and about now. How is Bel? She writes me such letters and I am not to call her anything but Bel though we have never met.” He managed a laugh which ended in a cough.
“She sends you her loving greetings, sir.”
“Ay, she would, she would. Full of love she is. My dear friend Nat was fortunate to get her and to have her all his life. I lost mine not so long after this one’s father was killed.” He looked at Frederick. “And we never knew he’d had this boy till so lately.” He shook one of his sticks towards Frederick’s mother. “Her fault you know. All her fault and she’s the light of my life now.” There was more laughter.
Now he studied Deborah closely. “You look well, bright eyes, clear skin and lovely flaxen hair. She thought you were fretting but I don’t see that.”
Deborah stood up and looked at Frederick who had gone bright red. “Who thought?” she asked.
The old man answered, “Why Bel of course. Isn’t she your grandmother?”
Deborah understood it all in an instant. Lady Branford was laughing and shaking her head at Frederick. “We might have known it would come out. He’s forgotten it was to be a secret. But there’s no harm done, is there? Everyone’s happy.”
Frederick had risen, still hot and flushed. “Deborah, she made me promise to say nothing. She didn’t know how much it would hurt me not to be open and honest with you. But I told you no lies in the coach coming here. I waslonging for you. Her letter gave me enough hope to write and beg to be allowed to come.”
Deborah felt a spurt of anger at Grandmother Bel for daring to guess her feelings and at Frederick for not having written till he was prodded, but how could she keep that up in this company and in the face of his obvious shame and sorrow. Now, she resolved, they would never again keep anything from each other.
The old earl was looking about in bewilderment. “What did I say?”
She bent down to him again. “Nothing sir. Yes, Bel is my grandmother and very dear indeed to me. And your friend, my Grandfather Nat, was very special all my life. He taught me Latin and Greek and always had time for my questions.”
He nodded, happy again. “Yes, he was cleverer than I. Many a Greek exercise he helped me through at Cambridge.” He waved a hand at the wall. “I have his papers there that he wrote on Job and other texts. Nay, we’re not in my library are we? Her parlour. Poky little room but she likes it.”
“It’s the size of our parlour at the farmhouse,” Lady Branford said, “biggest room in the place it was and only ever used for best.”
Deborah resumed her seat and muttered to Frederick, “I suppose you think I’ve forgiven you?” He looked alarmed till she gave him a merry smile. Laughter seemed to be the order of the day at Castle Branford. The only stiffness was the meeting with Will Smyth. “Mistress Horden.” A deep bow and that was it.
In the next weeks she was shown at her own insistence every part of the building and supplied with a handsome mount to explore the grounds.
I can grow into this great responsibility, she kept telling herself, but there is so much I need to know. I gather there are properties in neighbouring counties too and Frederick is only beginning to work with the earl’s lawyers to find the whole truth of the Branfords’ position. I can see he wants to take over from them and save the fees they charge. I’m sure he has the ability and I will enjoy helping if I can. They are arranging a marriage settlement now with Father’s lawyers. Letters are going back and forth and I believe I am to take the final document when I go home. It makes me feel like a piece of property but I have to accept this is what happens. A good laugh with Frederick disperses such thoughts. I have to remember too that the earl, fragile as he looks, still has his faculties and understands what he is signing. Frederick defers to him very properly in all decisions.
Each night she went to bed and lay awake marvelling at the new room she was becoming accustomed to, the new people with whom she already felt intimate and the uncanny distance that now seemed to lie between her and Horden Hall. She would go back for a few weeks before her marriage but nothing now, it seemed, could come between her and her new life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Deborah was home at Horden Hall a few days before the arrival of John and Jeanetta with the children. She threw herself at once into helping her mother with the last minute preparations at Nether Horden Grange and was only a little hurt that this was in the forefront of everyone’s minds.
She had one intimate moment with Grandmother Bel who was eager for her to describe Frederick’s mother and the old earl.
“Frederick’s mother talks much and laughs even more,” Deborah told her. “She was prepared to love me before we even met. The old earl is a poor bent stick but quite alive to what is going on. Only his memory lapses occasionally. He forgot that a certain letter was supposed to be a secret.”
Grandmother Bel hid her face in her hands, then peeped out between them. “Oh sweet Deb, you are not going to be angry with me I hope?”
There were hugs and tears and Deborah took her chance to share some of the myriad new impressions that had crowded upon her over the past month.
“They were so good in notinviting their neighbours, but that is to come after our wedding when I must be shown to Hertfordshire society. It took me all the time just to find my way around and learn the names of their household. Oh, Grandmother Bel, it is daunting but I believe I canlive this new life and find it most exciting.”
“And, my Deb, you look ten years younger, your eyes are brighter, your skin glows and you carry yourself joyfully. I thank God I’ve lived to see this. Now I only want to welcome those sweet babes and see John and Jeanetta as wise, loving parents and I will go to my Maker any time with great contentment.”
Contentment was not what John’s family brought with them. Jeanetta was cross. The journey with the children had been most trying and both were fretful. John seemed very much on edge.
Deborah was disappointed but her mother surprised her by her tolerance.
“They will take time to settle in. Having two babies close together is exhausting. Nathaniel is a vigorous little boy. He wants to be exploring everywhere and Nurse Forêt is too old and fat to be running after him. When little Diana is weaned Nurse Capot should have Nathaniel.”
“And why is Jeanetta not caring for them herself?” Deborah demanded. “I suppose we have to accept it is the way of French grandes dames.”
She was not very pleased with John either. He had not greeted her with the brotherly congratulations she had expected.
“Well, so you caught your earl, eh Deb? That’ll set you even further above your humble family. Taller, cleverer and now grander.”
“Oh John-Jo, how can you say such a thing?”
“Don’t John-Jo me. You made me feel a baby all my childhood. At least I’m a father before you’re a mother and when I’m master of Horden Hall I may not stay a mere baronet. You’ll see.”
Deborah was shocked at this display of envy but his outburst made her look back at their youth and realise she had resented her mother’s tenderness for John from the moment he was born. That’s why I made him feel stupid, she reproached herself, and teased him into thinking he was a Catholic when he was only three. ‘Caflick’ he used to say and I must have driven the word into his little soul. If the Lord does give me any children I must strive to keep them free of jealousy. Jealousy corrodes.
Ruth, she was pleased to find, was genuinely happy for her. Perhaps that was because she was in love herself and all the world was sunny for her. The handsome Simon Stephenson had come to Upper Horden Ma
nor to stay with his cousins for the summer vacation and was very attentive to Ruth.
“I wager we’ll have another wedding in a year or so,” their father predicted. “He’s to go into his father’s business in York and Ruth is likely to turn out richer than all of us.”
Jeanetta was fretting, it was obvious, because Nether Horden Grange was so small after Château Rombeau. She wanted more servants to live in the wing Daniel had allocated for Frederick to occupy before the wedding.
“When you can afford more you can have more,” he told John. “At present you have what I can allow you and it is plenty for your needs. I expect you to manage with one nursery maid when the babes are a little older, and I hope an English one.”
John said in a portentous tone, “Well sir, whether we stay here or go back to France may depend on what happens in the next sixth months.”
Deborah who was present saw her father flush with anger at what sounded like a threat. She herself had an uneasy feeling that it might relate rather to the political situation than the amount of John’s allowance. Everyone in the north of England was aware of the Scottish discontent with the Union. Was it possible that a rising was imminent and John was involved? She had tried to forget her suspicions when he had appeared to have dealings with the Vicomte de Neury. Playing chess? Was that credible? Nothing, she prayed fervently, must upset her joy in her coming wedding.
But an upset of a different kind appeared in a letter from Frederick just eight weeks before the wedding date.
‘My dearest One,
I sendsadnews. Lastweek Grandfather wouldgo outhimselfto inspect the stables. He was determined to approve themount you rode when you were here, intending to send for a better if he thought Snowdrop not tall enough for you. I assured him you had beenveryhappywithherbuthewentoutonhisownandnot surprisingly had a fall before he even reached the stables. The concussion he suffered rendered him insensible for two days before he quietly passed away fromtheshock, the doctor said, to his heart. For him it is a joyful release from a body that had become a painful burden, but to us all agreat sorrow which I know you will share.
There are some, Will Smyth is one, who think anything less than a year’s mourning would be disrespectful. Mother and I do not agree but feel that under the circumstances we should postpone ourwedding till the spring. Itgives me greatheartache to say so but there is much to attend to consequent on his death which will keep me busy over the winter.
It is impossible for you tobe at the funeral, the distance being so great but you will never be out of my thoughts. You were so lovingtohimwhileyouwereherethathesaidmychoiceofbride gave him the utmost joy.
I would wish the funeral to be a quiet affair but Will Smyth believes all should be done with greatand solemn pomp and in this I will not oppose him.’
He finished with his loving greetings to all the family and his longing for her which he would bear with what patience he could.
“It is my fault then,” Deborah exclaimed when she had read it to the family. “If he had not been worrying about my horse he would not have gone out.”
“Nonsense,” said Grandmother Bel. “It would have been something else. No one’s fault. Not his either. We old folk are blamed for our obstinacy but the truth is we forget that we are old and our still young minds urge us to do what our bodies are not capable of. He thought he could stride out to his stables as he used to do and his poor legs let him down. God rest his soul.”
Deborah was sad because she had taken a genuine liking to the earl but she was uneasy too. Marriage had leapt before her eyes in so short a time but was now receding. Would it truly happen? There was a long winter to get through and she missed Frederick’s reassuring presence.
John’s temper was soured by frustration. There had been no word from le Vent. The weather which had been hot in the earlier summer was cold and wet in August and though Jeanetta heard from her family that it was even worse in France and was impeding Marlborough’s movements there was no sign of an end to the war. He balked at his father’s efforts to interest him in Deborah’s work on the estate books.
“You see how it is,” he said to Jeanetta one evening when the babies were in bed and the nurses dozing by them, “Deb’s wedding will fall just when Louis’s forces are ready to move. I will not shirk my duty if I am called to march to meet the king but it will be deuced awkward if it happens at the same time. And it won’t do me any good to be brother-in-law to an English earl who supports the Protestant succession.”
She crept onto his knee and twined herself round him. “Could we not go back to France before then and pretend one of the children is ill so we don’t have to come to the wedding?”
He gave her a perfunctory kiss. “Silly goose. My duty is here James will be king hereand it is here that he will raise me to Baron Horden or even higher for my service to him.” She pouted. “But Netta,” he urged, “you like being here better than with the family in the Hall?”
“I suppose so but it’s so dull. There are no parties and festivities. The English court is so far away and no one cares about fashions here.”
“There’ll be a Harvest Ball as soon as the weather clears.” “A lot of peasants prancing about on the lawns.”
“Well, come to bed. You enjoy that anywhere and any time of
the year.”
“I’m not in the mood,” she said.
Of the family only Ruth enjoyed the Harvest Ball although the day was one of sudden crisp autumn sunshine after grey clouds. It was done for the sake of the village though the family were not in a festive frame of mind. Deborah was not pleased to be accosted by Bill Warner, stouter than ever and with streaks of grey in his beard.
“Well, Mistress Horden, I know now why you wouldn’t look kindly on my proposal last Harvest Ball. You had an earl up your sleeve. Ay, when I heard about that I says to myself, no wonder she looked down on me. But I reckon with the way coals are in demand that I’ll have more to my name and more in my coffers than many an earl has before I’m much older.”
“I congratulate you, Mr Warner.” She turned on her heel and left him standing.
Ruth came afterwards to Deborah’s bedroom, a thing she rarely did. She curled on the bed and pulled Deborah down beside her.
“I’ll only tell youbecause I trust you to keep a secret. Simon declared himself in the middle of a dance. He said, ‘I’m going to make you mine, Ruth Horden. No one can stop me.’ Wasn’t that masterful!”
Deborah hugged her. To her Simon and Ruth seemed absurdly, delightfully young. All the same she had never felt so close to her sister in her whole life.
“Of course we can’t be betrothed properly,” Ruth babbled on, still in her arms, “till he’s graduated and asked Father properly and all that but everybody likes him and it’s wonderful that I won’t have to wait for a husband all the years you’ve had to wait and then have it put off just ‘cos an old man dies who was hardly alive at all.”
Deborah had to laugh or she would have wept. Life had not begun to buffet Ruth in any way and now she was looking to be a wife. I think I am glad to be older, she told herself. Imagine if I were facing being Countess of Branford at Ruth’s age!
The new closeness to Ruth helped her to endure the long winter without Frederick. In these extra months she had been given she also set herself the task of rousing John to his responsibilities at Horden. She positively orderedhim to sit in on business talks with their father and despite Jeanetta grumbling at being left alone he complied. She guessed he had realised it was politic to please their father. He even alluded to his efforts the previous summer to find out more about husbandry.
“You know I did try, sir, and I’ve come to the conclusion that we should have more milking cows on our flat meadows. Sheep are fine on the moors but we are so near Newcastle and the population is growing so fast with the coal mines bringing people in, that I reckon we should increase our milk production.”
“Have you really thought that out for yourself, son?”
Deborah loved to see her father innocently delighted. She had noticed one of the tenant farmers talking to John at the Harvest Ball. John had looked bored but had luckily remembered something of the conversation.
Her father went on, “It is what Deborah and I have in mind for this summer – an enlargement of the herd on Turner’s farm and an extension of his dairy.”
“There you are then,” John said. “We are all agreed.” And he grinned hopefully at their father for the first time since he and Jeanetta had come home.
At last the winter snows melted into the grass and a wedding date was fixed for Deborah and Frederick towards the end of March. Frederick would come north and bring his mother to meet the family two weeks before. They would travel in the Branford carriage with Will Smyth, who refused to be left behind, and Peter and Joseph to share driving and guard duties.
“So May Branford is not bringing a lady’s maid,” Eunice exclaimed. “I applaud her heartily. She can share Suzette and Jane with us.”
Deborah found her mother’s refusal to say ‘the countess’ delightfully consistent. She was confident that the farmer’s daughter and the street preacher’s daughter would get on well. May was light-hearted and Eunice puritanical but neither had any pride to disrupt harmony.
“They can all be accommodated in the wing of Nether Horden Manor,” Eunice told Daniel, “but apart from breakfast they could take their meals in the Hall with us. Do you agree?”
“I think the countess should have our best guest bedroom – John and Jeanetta’s old room. If she’s at the Manor she would have to share Jeanetta’s maid, Maria, and that would please no one.”
“Very well, though why we so called ladies can’t manage ourselves, as maids have to, I can’t imagine.”
Deborah and Ruth giggled at each other. “Because we have to wear the most impossible clothes, Mother dear,” Deborah said. “And where does it say thatin the scriptures?” Eunice said and joined in the general laughter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Prue Phillipson - Hordens of Horden Hall Page 23
