Smiling demurely at the ex-soldier who offered her his arm for the short walk to the inn, Daisy managed to turn her head briefly and looked knowingly at her father. Pitcher raised his eyes heavenward and hoped none of this would be reported to Emma. She would kill him!
Chapter Ten
William Ddole almost ran into the house after dismounting and handing the reins of his horse to David. His face was white and his hair looked unkempt and wild. He said nothing to Annie, who met him at the door, but went at once to the study where he poured himself a brandy with a hand that shook.
Annie hesitated outside the door but was afraid to knock. There was obviously something wrong, but now was not the time to enquire. Instinctively she knew it was wiser to wait until he had calmed down. She went into the kitchen and warned the very subdued Olwen and Dozy Bethan to make as little noise as possible as the master was upset.
There was no need for such a warning, threatened as they both were with the end to their jobs; neither girl showed a tendency to display high spirits. Olwen had seen William arrive home and she was curious to know what had upset him, hoping that it had not been bad news about Penelope. But she said nothing of her fears to Annie. The less that interloper was told the better.
William sent for Annie after a second helping of brandy and she glided silently in and sat in a chair behind the door as she usually did when she expected him to discuss something with her. Today there was no friendly approach.
‘I understand you have told Seranne to leave?’ he said, and his voice was so stern she at once stood up as if preparing to defend herself.
‘I did. She is obviously unfit to work and even when she did feel able to attend, she didn’t give a reasonable day’s work for the money you pay her.’
‘She is to have her job back.’ His eyes were full of something akin to anger, yet she saw distress there as well. ‘I also want you to make sure that, as Florrie always did, you see that she is given any spare food that is left, to take home.’
Surprised, Annie could only nod.
William dismissed her with a wave of his hand. At the door she hesitated, and asked,
‘Master Ddole, about another matter. Do you really wish to continue paying Florrie? Now she has been replaced it seems an unnecessary waste. And,’ she added softly, ‘I’m sure the woman has plenty to do preparing herself for her marriage to the Keeper of the Peace.’
‘I will decide what and whom we can afford,’ William said. ‘Florrie stays and does as little or as much as she wishes. And Seranne is to be given back her place now, today, and I want you to make sure that if she is tired, then she will rest. She will not be made to feel that her money is dependent on the amount of work she does. Neither Seranne nor Florrie will be allowed to feel anything less than useful and needed. Do you understand?’
Annie closed the door behind her and stood in the passageway wondering how best to manage this sudden change of attitude towards her. To her surprise, she heard the sounds of sobs coming from the room she had just left.
William left the house again a while later. He did not use the main door but walked through the kitchen, where he stopped and watched Olwen chopping up vegetables for his meal, and Bethan, nervously looking at him through the edges of her eyes, washing the slate floor.
‘Are you both happy in your work here?’ he surprised them by asking.
Bethan whispered an anxious, ‘Yes, Master William,’ convinced that the moment had arrived and she was going to be told to leave.
Olwen was, as usual, more outspoken.
‘Happy, yes sir. But not so much as when Florrie was in charge of us and that’s for sure. And when there were more to cook and see to,’ she added, looking at him to see if her words were angering him. ‘That was a busier and happier time too, sir.’ She lowered her voice and whispered, ‘I know you miss them, but we miss them too.’
‘Olwen! Get to your work and don’t be impertinent!‘ Annie appeared at the door and her arm was raised in a threatening gesture. ‘I’m sorry, sir, I have been too lax with the management of this one.’
William shook his head. ‘There is no strong servant and master atmosphere in this house. I asked Olwen a question; she would have had to be very dull not to reply with honesty.’
William went out, a strange, absent-minded look on his face, his eyes suspiciously reddened. He went to the stables and set off to see Edwin Prince. He had to tell someone.
Annie waited until the sound of the hooves on the hard surface of the drive had faded then she slapped Olwen in a body-swinging blow across her head.
‘If the master, in his unhappiness, allows such behaviour, I do not!’ Leaving Olwen holding her head and blinking to recover from the knock that had sent her staggering, she left the room.
‘What’s got into this house!’ Bethan whispered. ‘If I had somewhere to go I’d be off like a shot from Master Ddole’s gun!’
Stunned as she was from the strength of Annie’s punishment, Olwen couldn’t resist a weak smile at the thought of Bethan resembling anything fast!
‘Best we don’t think about it too much, just get on with our work,’ Olwen said, holding her ear to ease the pain.
A few moments later, Annie returned to the kitchen and she was wearing her outdoor clothes.
‘I will be back in a little while, so be sure you don’t relax into idleness,’ she warned. When she did return, both girls were surprised and very pleased to see that she had Seranne with her.
* * *
William found Edwin sitting under a tree in his garden with some papers on his knee. Beside him was Violet, the nurse and the baby Gabriella. The scene was such an attractive one he held his breath and did not reveal his presence for a while, soaking in the atmosphere of contentment. He wished he could reclaim the years when his children were small, wondering with regret why he had not made more of them.
Seeing him, Edwin jumped up and placing the papers on a small table with a stone on them to still their fluttering, hailed him and walked to meet him. Violet whispered a few words to the nurse who went into the house presumably, William guessed, for refreshments. Picking up the baby, Violet followed her husband.
‘William, I hope you aren’t just passing?’ Edwin said.
‘I would like a little of your time if you are free,’ William replied as a boy took charge of his horse. ‘But first, let me look at this baby. How she has grown!’ Talking the expected small talk, they made their way back to the chairs and table under the trees.
Violet guessed it was Edwin that William had called to see. Making the excuse that Gabriella was in need of an extra coat she went into the house. William watched her go with something akin to envy. If Penelope had married John Maddern as I had hoped, I might have been a part of a scene similar to this, he thought regretfully.
When a servant girl had provided them with refreshments, Edwin asked his friend what was troubling him.
‘For I saw in a moment that all is not well with you,’ he explained. When William didn’t speak, he went on, ‘Is it Penelope? She hasn’t chosen to stay in London, has she?’
‘It’s something very different but in its way even more frightening.’ He paused, looking around as if preparing to divulge a dangerous secret. ‘I have seen death on the face of Seranne.’
‘Will you explain?’ Edwin asked, startled.
‘Three times in my life I have seen something on the face of someone and have known instinctively that it portrayed their death. I saw it on my own mother a few weeks before she died, and again when I looked at my dear wife, Dorothy, before she too left me.’
‘They are relations and loved ones. But Seranne?‘ Edwin asked.
‘I know it is inexplicable, but it has happened. It’s like the image of a skull, which intensifies so I can’t see the features at all, then it fades and the person is there, staring and wondering what is wrong with me. Edwin, what can I do?’
‘Have you spoken to the vicar?’
‘I have tried, and to
the doctor. They both agree that it’s an outward show of the love and affection I have for these people, a love which I don’t easily reveal. With my mother and my wife I can see how they might think that, but Seranne?’
‘There is nothing you can do, you have to try and forget it and treat the woman as normally as you can.’
‘Annie had sacked her. I insisted she brought her back. At least I can see she has enough food and money for medicines.
Although Vanora is good with herbal remedies, a visit from the doctor might help.’
‘She is ill then?’
‘Of the morbid lung. Her brothers too, I suspect. Oh, Edwin, I am afraid to meet them in case I see the same early death in them too!’
‘The morbid lung is likely to carry them off to an early grave whether you see it on their faces or not.’
‘I walk with my head down as I pass people I know, this thing is so terrifying, the more so because I know I can do nothing.’
‘Stay a while and play with Gabriella. She is such a cheerful child I’m sure you will not find a better tonic.’
During the afternoon, while the baby alternately slept and chortled happily, William explained to his friends why he continued to pay the wages of Florrie.
‘There have been so many changes in my life and I cannot bear another. Florrie disappearing from the house and Seranne being sent away was more than I could face. That was why I went to see her and ask about her health.’ His face again became troubled. ‘That was when I saw the sign of her impending death.’
‘This Annie Evans, is she satisfactory?’
‘Apart from an overriding determination to save me money, yes. She does her work calmly and with an ease I can only admire.’ There was reservation in his remarks but Edwin did not delve.
The two men discussed the payments to come from the people inland whom they supplied with contraband goods, and when William left, the family stood to wave him off. He looked back at Violet holding her husband’s arm, the baby safely curled against her, and decided that he would forget his pride, and write to tell Penelope she could return.
The house should be filled again. Young Olwen had seen more clearly than he had the problem with Ddole House. It had once been a home for a family and a dozen servants. The death of Dorothy and the departing of Penelope had changed everything, and, since Florrie decided to marry Daniels, the servants had been reduced by Annie so the place rattled about him like the lifeless branches of a dead tree.
When he reached home, Annie served his meal, having sent the others away. She was solicitous of his comfort and he was too tired to think of her attentions as anything but normal.
‘I am writing to my daughter,’ he told her when he pushed away the last plate. ‘I will tell her it is time she came home.’
‘Is that wise, sir?’ Annie asked quietly. ‘She has hardly had time to find her feet in the society of the city. Wouldn’t it be less cruel to see her there and decide whether or not she wants to come back here?’
‘Of course she wants to come back!’ Fear that the woman might be right gave an edge of anger to his voice.
‘Of course you know best, sir,’ Annie said. ‘But perhaps you should give her at least until the end of summer?’
William was confused. Perhaps Annie was right and Penelope would not thank him for taking her away from friends she was just beginning to know? Then he thought of Olwen, whom his daughter had befriended. She thought Penelope should return. Young and inexperienced as she was, she had sensed his loneliness, showing understanding beyond her years. Young, and only a servant, yet he took comfort in her opinion because it was what he wanted to believe.
He took out all Penelope’s letters and read them through, the pleading to be allowed home more apparent than when he had not wanted to see it. He took out his pens and the bottle of black ink Florrie made for him, and began to write.
* * *
Annie never went out, preferring to send one of the servants to collect anything she needed. One Friday she pleased Olwen by telling her to go into town and buy some material for new curtains.
‘The material is chosen,’ Annie explained. ‘The woman came with samples and I explained to her exactly what I needed.’
‘She didn’t explain how I am to carry it!’ Olwen confided to Dozy Bethan. ‘Heavy it will be and me with arms like bits of unravelled wool!’
‘You will be back to help clear after luncheon.’ Annie warned as she handed Olwen the sample of material and the money, together with the measurements for the seller to check.
A morning of freedom was a luxury and Olwen thought carefully about getting full value from it. Then realization came and she was hard put not to shout her delight. It was Friday, the one day on which Barrass was free. He had no deliveries or collections and he must be persuaded to go with her!
She lifted her skirts high and ran down the drive and through the fields towards the village, her bare feet dancing. She was singing aloud her hopes and prayers that he would be at the alehouse with Pitcher. She reached the alehouse breathless, rosy-faced and full of hopeful excitement.
‘Barrass?’ she called. ‘Barrass, are you there?’
Pitcher came to the door and invited her inside.
‘Down in the cellar sorting out the empty barrels for washing. Best you go down and see him. It seems you are in too much of a hurry for him to come to you!’ he laughed.
Olwen ran down the stone steps into the chill, gloomy cellar and, hearing the sound of voices, went into the cavernous room beyond.
‘Barrass,’ she burst out, ‘I have to go into town and carry home a bale of material and it will be a-w-f-u-l heavy. Can you come with me and help?’
Barrass straightened up from the barrel he had been inspecting, his head almost touching the curved ceiling.
‘Olwen!’ He looked pleased to see her, his smile revealing even teeth, his eyes crinkling with delight. ‘I thought it was a storm coming up the Channel to engulf us all, you sounded so driven!’ he teased. ‘But a welcome sight you are and no mistake.’
‘But can you come?’ she asked.
‘Come? I was so startled at your flurried appearance I didn’t listen to what you asked,’ he grinned.
‘Oh Barrass.’ She put her small hands on her hips and bent slightly into a scolding position to say, ‘You are a-w-f-u-l irritating sometimes.’
‘All right, I’ll have a word with Pitcher and if he can spare me for a few hours I’ll go with you to carry your heavy load.’
Olwen’s eyes glowed as she preceded him back up the steps to find Pitcher.
* * *
Barrass’s horse, Jethro, was stabled behind the alehouse and he was unaffected by the extra weight as the two people mounted him. The luxury of the ride instead of the long, six-mile walk was an added bonus, although Olwen hoped it did not mean she had Barrass’s company for less time.
‘Could we eat at the inn?’ she asked.
Barrass nodded and she hugged his arm. Being seated in front of him she feared to fall off if she tried to hug his body. She leaned back against him and decided that this unexpected morning out was the most wonderful thing that had happened in many a day. She looked up at Barrass and hoped it was the same for him.
It was one of those days when everything seemed right. The inn was busy, but without the usual crowd who waited three times a week for the letters to arrive with Ben Gammon. So although many knew Barrass, they did not at once surround him and involve him in their questions and general chatter.
Having left Jethro at the stables, they walked to the shop, paid for the material and arranged to collect it after they had eaten. On the way back to the inn, they walked through the busy market surrounding Island House. In a corner, half hidden by carts and wooden, wheeled stalls, they saw Madoc Morgan. He was standing beside two full sacks, the contents of which were almost completely hidden. Occasionally he would touch the opening of the sack with his foot so someone passing close to him could see what he surreptitiousl
y offered for sale, then the foot would reach out and close it again when a stall holder attempted to look.
‘He has no permission to sell,’ Olwen whispered.
‘And what he sells is probably not his anyway!’ Barrass added grimly. ‘Best we keep away. To be seen talking to him should he be caught, might bring us trouble.’
There was a young girl selling flowers, and Barrass bought a large bunch and handed them to Olwen. She stretched up and kissed his cheek and hugged him.
‘Thank you, Barrass! Mam loves to see flowers in the house.’
‘There’s no flower lovelier than you, Olwen-the-fish,’ he replied.
They ate roast pork in sorrel sauce for their lunch, with chunks of freshly baked bread. Olwen thought she had never tasted anything so good. She was so light-hearted with the pleasure of the unexpected treat that her mood imparted itself to everyone they met. Laughter followed them and was reborn at every encounter.
The old woman selling sweetmeats encouraged them to stay at her stall, seeing that their presence brought a cheerfulness and an inclination to buy to those who stood near. A man selling medicines begged her to take a bottle so he could use her as an example of how others would look once they had drunk his elixir. Barrass pulled her away with a laugh.
‘They could drink a thousand bottles and not look as fresh and young and beautiful as my Olwen,’ he told the man proudly.
When they went to collect the material for Annie, they saw that the sacks at the feet of Madoc Morgan were almost empty. Madoc smiled at them and nodded, touching the sack with a foot to conceal the feathers that showed. Olwen thought he looked tired and was reminded how fortunate she was not to have to face the long walk home.
On impulse she begged a coin from Barrass and bought Jethro a bunch of small new carrots. Hardly bigger than quills, she knew they were only the thinnings from the crop, a mere mouthful for the animal, but one he would relish.
When she slid off Jethro at the end of Ddole House drive, Annie came out to scold her for being so long. Whatever time she had arrived, Olwen knew she would have complained. The fact she had ridden and saved more than the time they had wasted in town was not relevant. She didn’t bother to make an excuse, but was glad when Annie’s tirade was shortened by the appearance of William, with a letter.
The Posthorn Inn Page 17
