"I wish to see his lordship." Antonia was in no mood for polite chit-chat about the weather with his lordship's upper servants.
"I will ascertain whether his lordship is at home, ma'am. Would you care to step into the white salon while you wait? I will send refreshment in." He ushered her into a cool, high-ceilinged chamber and bowed himself out. Antonia was not inclined to admire the charm of the room, a feminine confection of white picked out in gold with ormolu enhancing the delicate French furniture. During the hot walk up to Brightshill, she had decided angrily that not only could she do without the responsibility for three wives, fifteen children and an old man--not to speak of the unfortunate Bethan's predicament--but that Lord Arlington was entirely responsible for the entire sorry 'coil.
By the time his lordship joined her, she had quite forgotten all her embarrassment at meeting him again. He closed the door behind him, and walked slowly towards her, a look of quizzical tenderness softening his face. "Antonia..." he began to say, then must have seen the stormy expression on her face, for he stopped, his brows drawing together into their familiar hard line.
"Don't you Antonia me," she snapped~ "I have come to demand that you release my men immediately."
"Your men?"
"Job, Boaz and Ezekiel Johnson, the men you have had dragged off to prison, leaving their families to starve!" Marcus was regarding her with astonishmenL Antonia stamped her foot in exasperation. "Come, sir, it was only yesterday! Do you sentence so many men that you have forgotten them already?"
"Please sit down, Miss Dane." Antonia sank gratefully onto~ a sofa, her legs suddenly weak with reaction. He appeared about to speak again as he pulled up a chair opposite her, but he was fores tailed by the entrance of a footman with lemonade and orgeat.
By the time the servant had left, Antonia was calmer, but as she sipped the cooling drink her hand was shaking and her bosom rose and fell with emotion.
"Now, Miss Dane, perhaps you can explain to me why it is a matter of concern to you that three violent rogues are about to receive their just desserts?"
Antonia met the hard eyes, remembering with a shiver the day she had been dragged before him as a poacher. "Just because they had a set-to with your keepers--who are all too ready to use violence themselves---does not make them violent criminals! These men have families to support: why can you not relax your implacable opposition to a little local poaching? You do not need all those birds, and this is a time of such agricultural hardship,"
"The law is the law, ma'am, and should be observed. You do no good with your meddling. I am sworn to uphold His Majesty's peace--what would you have me do when it is broken?"
"Meddling! Can you show no mercy? You may uphold the letter of the law, but there are moral laws as well
I hold you entirely responsible for Bethan Johnson' spre-die ~ament.
"
"And what might that be?" he enquired, only the whiteness around his mouth betraying the mounting anger within him.
"She is with child."
"I assure you, ma'am, I am not the father. I have no recollection of the wench, and whatever your opinion of me, I can assure you I always ask their name first before seducing village virgins."
Antonia leapt to her feet, her cheeks burning. "How dare you speak of such things to me!"
Without answering, Marcus strode across to the fireplace and tugged the bell pull sharply. Antonia turned away from him to hide her flushed cheeks and stared out stormily across the tranquil park. Behind her she heard him order, "My curricle, at once, with no delay!"
A furious silence hung. in the room until they heard the crunch of gravel beneath hooves. Marcus took her by the elbow in no gentle grip and marched her out of the door and down the steps to the curricle.
"Where are we going?" Antonia demanded when she found herself seated on the high-perch seat. She had not struggled with him in front of the servants, but she had every intention of demanding he let her down the moment they were out of sight of the house. "How dare you manhandle me so! Stop and let me down at once!"
"No, there is something you should, and will, see." All she could see of Marcus's face was his grim profile.
"If you do not let me down, I will jump," Antonia threatened, gathering her skirts in readiness.
In response, he transferred all the reins and the whip to his right hand, throwing his left arm across her to pinion her to her seat. The horses, unsettled by the sudden shift of balance, plunged in the shafts and broke into a canter. Antonia felt herself thrown back against the seat, his ann like an iron bar across her. "Do not be such a damn fool," he snarled, controlling the horses one-handed: Even in her distressed state, Antoniacould not help but admire his mastery.
It was only a few minutes before he drew up in front of a neat lodge at one of the side gates into the park. Another vehicle, a modest gig, was standing outside; as Marcus handed her. down, Antonia recognised the local doctor emerging from the back door of the lodge.
"My lord, Miss Dane, good day to you. A bad business this, but he is young and strong and will come to no harm in the end. I will Call again tomorrow."
"Thank you, Dr. Rush. Whatever he needs, he must have. You will send your account to me."
The doctor mounted into his gig and drove away with a polite tip of his whip. "Why have you brought me here?" Antonia asked, a strange feeling of apprehension gripping her.
"To see the handiwork of your innocent and starving tenants," he replied tautly, pushing open the door without knocking and ushering her through.
Antonia found herself in a small but neat kitchen. A little girl was rocking a cradle by the hearth. She mined a tear-stained face towards them and Marcus patted her gently on the head. "Are you being a good girl and helping your mother, Jenny?" The child, no more than four, nodded mutely. "We will just go and see your father; the doctor says he will soon be well, so don't you cry now."
In the back room, a woman was spooning water between the lips of the man laying on the bed. When' she saw Marcus, she put down the spoon and laid the man gently back against the bolster. "Oh, my lord..."
"Do not get up, Mrs. Carling. How is he?"
Antonia saw with horror the white face of Nat Carling the under keeper His head was swathed in bandages, his eyes black and blue and his nose askew. He seemed barely conscious, except for a faint groan which escaped his lips every time he breathed.
"In a deal of pain, my lord. The doctor says his~ ribs are broke, but his skull's not cracked, thank the lord.,
"What has happened to him?" Antonia gasped in horror, although with a sinking heart she could guess.
"Twas them Johnsons, the whole pack of them, miss. Set upon him last night as he came home from the alehouse. Three against one, it was," the woman added bitterly. "And them with cudgels. If Vicar hadn't have been coming back from Berkhamsted and disturbed them, my Nat'd be dead now."
"But why?" Antonia asked, appalled, staring down at the bruised face on the pillow, the stubble stark on the deathly face.
"He'd reported them to his lordship for poaching again, ma'am. Setting snares all through his lordship's Home Wood, they were, 'tother night, bold as brass. Ran off when Nat and his old dog disturbed them, but he could see 'em by the moon."
"But to beat him so..."
"And kick him, too," i Marcussaid grimly. "Let me have a look at those ribs, Nat lad," He eased back the coarse sheet with infinite care and Antonia gasped at the sight of the man's ribs, covered in bruises with the clear marks of hobnails on the flesh.
Antonia turned away, her hands pressed to her mouth, nausea rising. She heard Marcus behind her, talking low-voiced to the woman, assuring her the doctor's bills would be met and promising that the housekeeper would send down food and cordials from the house daily. "One of the stable lads will come down and sleep in your shed, Mrs. Carling. He can do the heavy work and help you with-Nat, Now do not fret, he will mend soon."
Outside Antonia gripped the side of the curricle, taking great gulps of the
warm dusty air. Marcus took her arm and began to walk back into the park, leaving the horses standing. "You are not, going to faint," he stated coldly.
Antonia looked up at' him, startled by his frigid tone.
"What has happened to that man is terrible!"
"Indeed it is, and much to your discredit." "Mine! What have I to do with it?"
"You have coddled and encouraged not only the deserving and unfortunate amongst your tenants, but the rogues also. They laugh at you for being so gullible! What did you think you were about?" His voice grew harsher as she turned hurt and bewildered eyes to his face. "But they were starving. I only sought' to feed them." Marcus took her by the shoulders and shook her. "You fool, all you did was to teach them to steal. You have undermined the right of the law. Why did you not employ your own keepers? You could have instructed them to take the birds and distribute them to the deserving and those in genuine need and you would have given the keepers respectable employment besides."
"Why did you not tell me sooner?." Antonia stammered. "I never thought to employ my own keepers. I thought I was doing good, helping my tenants..."
"I did not know myself the lengths to which you had gone. Sparrow only told me today what has been the talk of the alehouses for weeks. I was coming to tell you of it this morning, but you were otherwise engaged."
"Why did not Sparrow speak to you sooner?. I so wish he had ... I have misjudged the man."
There was an uncomfortable pause before Marcus replied, "He felt there was a degree of attachment between us that would make it impossible for him to speak critically of you without offending me."
"How foolish of him," Antonia replied between stiff lips.
"Indeed," Marcus replied, dropping his hands from her shoulders.
She shivered, feeling bereft without his touch. "Can you recommend a suitable man to act as keeper for me? And is there any other foolishness of mine which you should draw to my attention before I do any further damage?" she added, bitterness in her voice.
"I will find someone for you, if that is what you wish. As to your ... foolishness, perhaps you will remember that I recommended you to return to London. It would have been as well for all of us if you had taken that advice."
Antonia turned her head away so he could not see the tears starting in her eyes. He could not have put it more plainly: he wished rid of her, and his instincts from the beginning had been correct. Marcus, having failed to secure her lands, now wanted her out of his sight.
"I must thank you for an instructive al~ernoon, my lord," she said, her head still averted. "I trust you will let me know if there is anything I can do to assist Mrs. Carling and her family. Good day." '~
"Let me drive you home, Antonia." Marcus put a hand on her arm, but she shook it off angrily, "We should not part like this. I spoke harshly in my anger, but we can deal better together than this."
"Sir, I am grateful for your concern, but we are neighbours, nothing more." tWe have been more than that, and could be again. " Heput his fingers under her chin, turning her face to his. Before she could protest he bent his head and kissed her lightly on the lips, then turned and walked away.
Chapter Ten
"I found her a carriage," Donna remarked, leaving a pile of linen unfolded as she hurried to peep discreetly from the bedroom casement.
"I wonder who that can be? I do not recognise the barouche."
Antonia joined her, attempting to descry the crest on the carriage doors. "I do believe it is Lady Finch. How very gracious of her to return our call so promptly!"
The ladies abandoned their work and hastened downstairs to greet the visitor. They had called at Rye End Hall two days previously to leave their cards and ~had been gratified to be received by Lady Finch herself. Sir Josiah, she had explained, was not with her because he had been detained in London on business, but was expected daily for he was most eager to establish himself in his new home.
Since their visit to their old home, Donna and Antonia had found much to talk of. Lady Finch had proved welcoming and open, delighted to make their acquaintance and full of praise for Rye End Hall and their preparations. She was obviously very well bred, but years abroad had lent a refreshing informality to her manner that captivated Donna particularly.
Antonia had noticed the ready affection that Lady Finch evinced for her nephew: a pastel sketch of him was one' of the few pictures that had already been hung. "I do hope dear Jeremy has been able to accommodate all your wishes in the arrangements," Lady Finch had said. "He is generally such a thoughtful individual, but you must appraise me immediately if anything has been overlooked." The warmth and pride that tinged her voice when she spoke of Mr. Blake indicated that she regarded him more as a son than a nephew.
"Lady Finch," Anna announced, showing the older woman into the drawing-room.
There was a flurry of greetings and curtsies before the three were seated, tea poured and macaroon biscuits offered, "What a charming old house," Lady Finch enthused. "After so many years in the Indies, it is such a pleasure to see a fine example of the antique English style. Are you comfortable here? It has a welcoming and homely atmosphere,"
Both Donna and Antonia found it easy to talk to Susan Finch and the half-hour visit quite flew by, At length, their guest stood up, drawing on her gloves, and looking out over the garden as she did so.
"What magnificent roses, Miss Dane. I hope you will allow Sir Josiah to visit your garden, for he has lately developed a keen interest in gardening. It is such a struggle to maintain a truly English style in a hot climate: there must be constant irrigation and all one's favourites just wither and die. I confess that, after a few false starts, we simply gave up."
"I would be delighted, for gardening is one of my joys also Antonia began to say when they were interrupted by the sound of carriage wheels on gravel.
"I must bid you farewell, for you have other visitors," Lady Finch was saying when the newcomers came into view, trotting up the drive in a neat curricle. "Why, it is my husband and Mr. Blake!"
The two men were ushered in by Anna, flushed with importance at receiving so many guests in one morning.
"Sir Josiah!" his lady cried. "I had not looked for you until tomorrow." She held out her hands to her husband and Antonia was touched by the unfashionable warmth with which Sir Josiah kissed his wife.
"Miss Dane, I must make my husband known to you." Antonia curtsied liking Sir Josiah on sight. Where his wife was thin, her complexion made sallow by years of heat, he was rotund and still tanned on the top of his bald head. His shrewd eyes twinkled cheerfully in his open face and Antonia knew instinctively that she was meeting an honest man.
The enlarged party settled again, Sir Josiah accepting a dish of Bohea while he explained that his London business had been accomplished with, more expedition than he had expected. He had hastened down, eager to view his new demesne, to be greeted by Mr. Blake with the news that his wife was visiting Miss Dane.
"Naturally, I could not hesitate to make your acquaintance, ladies. My nephew has told me of your gracious assistance in rendering the Hall all that we would wish it to be." The shrewd eyes slid sideways over the top of his tea cup to catch the slight flush on Mr. Blake's cheeks.
Sir Josiah, tragically deprived of heirs of his own, was of a strongly dynastic turn of mind and was deeply fond of his nephew by marriage whom he intended making heir to his considerable fortune. Mr. Blake had been admirably discreet on the subject of Miss Dane, but Sir Josiah knew enough of his nephew to recognise a man with a marked partiality.
Miss Dane was chatting easily to his wife and Mr. Blake, allowing Sir Josiah to observe her whilst exchanging pleasantries with Miss Donaldson. A very handsome and prettily behaved young woman, he concluded. Somewhat tall, perhaps, and not dressed in the first stare of fashion, but unmistakably well bred.
Accustomed to assessing fabrics with the eye of a merchant, he approved of the jonquil muslin gown, but could not help but imagine Miss Dane gowned in one of the more s
triking shot silks his warehouse had recently imported. He must mention it to Susan; perhaps the opportunity for a small gift might arise. :.
His wife rose, catching his wandering attention. "My dear, we must not impose on Miss Dane and Miss Donaldson's time further this morning.
However, I have secured a promise from Miss Dane that she will show you her roses before much longer."
"Capital! A fellow gardener--I could not have wished for ~. Lady Finch, tell me, what is the state of our kitchens? When can we hope to entertain, for I would wish to hold a dinner party for our good neighbours as soon as may be?"
"Thanks to the perfect order in which all was left, I believe we could name' this Saturday that is, if you are free, ladies?"
Francesca Shaw - The Unconventional Miss Dane Page 17
