Garlands of Gold

by Rosalind Laker

  There were steep flights of stairs to reach the top floor. Grinling, bewigged and beaming, came out on to the landing to meet them, his arms spread wide expansively. He had put on a little weight, which suited his broad-shouldered frame, and was well dressed, his coat of fine crimson velvet and his cravat a flow of truly exquisite lace.

  ‘Welcome, my friends! Saskia! How good to see you! Elizabeth is eagerly awaiting you! Come in!’

  As they entered the quite luxurious apartment Elizabeth came tripping forward, white lace dancing back from her sleeves as she reached out her arms to embrace Saskia. ‘How well you look, my dear friend! I was so afraid you would be tired out after selling from your stall, but you are blooming like a rose. Have you had nice customers? I’m looking forward so much to seeing your stall for myself.’

  As Saskia began to slip off her cloak Lucy came forward to take it from her. ‘How nice to see you again, Mistress Saskia,’ she said shyly.

  ‘I’m pleased to see you too, Lucy. Are you still writing entries in your book?’

  ‘Yes, mistress. I watch out for all the latest fashion trends and dress Mistress Gibbons’ hair accordingly.’

  Elizabeth stood smiling. ‘Yes, have no fear, Saskia. Lucy is doing very well.’

  As Lucy went to hang away the cloak Elizabeth whispered to Saskia that the girl had a beau among the ostlers. His name was Ben, an agreeable young man, who aimed to have his own stables one day.

  ‘It’s good that he has ambition,’ Saskia said, pleased for the girl.

  Then Elizabeth, too excited to hold back her news any longer, told what she had been bursting to tell from the moment Saskia had crossed the threshold.

  ‘I’m with child, my dear friend!’ she exclaimed happily. ‘Is it not wonderful?’

  Saskia took Elizabeth’s hands in both her own, thankful for the protective numbness centred around her heart, for she felt neither envy nor jealousy, her only thought being that Elizabeth and Grinling were deserving of all good things that came their way and she was thankful that she could rejoice for them.

  ‘It is an early blessing on your marriage, Elizabeth.’

  ‘Let me show you what I have made for the layette already.’

  Proudly, Elizabeth led the way into what would be the nursery where she showed Saskia several small garments, most of them neatly embroidered. One little gown was trimmed with some very fine lace, which caused Saskia to comment on the beautiful lace of Grinling’s cravat. Elizabeth, putting the garments back in a drawer again, looked up with her eyes twinkling with amusement as if she hugged some secret joke to herself.

  ‘It is very fine indeed,’ she agreed, a laugh in her throat. ‘In fact I doubt there is a finer lace to be found anywhere. You must tell him. He will be so pleased.’

  Together they returned to the drawing room where the two men were talking and Elizabeth immediately announced to Grinling how much their guest admired his cravat.

  ‘I think,’ Elizabeth added merrily, ‘Saskia believes that such exquisite lace should be used for our baby’s garments instead.’

  Saskia protested immediately. ‘I said no such thing!’

  Grinling laughed. ‘If it could be put to such use you should take it from me now, but first of all you need to feel the quality of it. Only then can you decide if it is fine and soft enough for my son and heir. Come now!’ He expanded his chest as if to display the cravat to better advantage.

  ‘Yes, of course it would be,’ Saskia said, smiling at his urging, but keeping her hands at her sides. ‘Remember that I used to see Nurse Bobbins making lace as fine as yours.’

  ‘You will never know if you do not test it for yourself.’

  Robert stepped forward. ‘I’ll be the judge.’ He touched the lace, met Grinling’s eyes for a moment, and then stepped back again, a quiver of amusement at the corners of his lips. ‘It really is up to you to decide, Saskia.’

  She saw that Grinling’s game was not going to end before she had fingered his cravat. To humour him she put up her hand to feel its fineness. Instantly her expression became one of total astonishment and then she dissolved helplessly into laughter, Robert and Elizabeth laughing too. Grinling was grinning widely in delight.

  ‘It’s not lace at all!’ Saskia exclaimed, brushing a tear of mirth from her eye. ‘It is wood! You have carved it, Grinling! What a delightful joke!’

  ‘Congratulations on creating such a fashionable masterpiece!’ Robert said, still laughing.

  Grinling then demonstrated how the carved lace, which was perfect in every delicate detail, was fastened to a normal cravat around his neck. Saskia guessed it would be a joke played many times on friends and acquaintances in the future, but it was also proof of his marvellous skill in carving minutiae. The four of them were discussing it with amusement as they took their places at table.

  Apart from a manservant, who waited at table and also acted as Grinling’s valet, Elizabeth had a housemaid, a scullery maid and a kitchen boy, there being special accommodation for the servants of residents as well as passing travellers. She also had the services of an excellent cook, who in between duties worked downstairs in the inn’s kitchen. On this Sunday Grinling and Elizabeth with their two guests dined handsomely on asparagus soup, fish cooked with cream followed by a dish of succulent guinea fowl before Grinling stood with a flash of a carving knife and fork to carve a large roast sirloin of beef into perfect slices. This was all accompanied by a selection of vegetables. Then came a delicious custard pudding that was light as air.

  Saskia thought to herself that it was no wonder that Grinling was putting on weight, although Elizabeth assured her that they did not eat so grandly every day. Yet from the conversation it was clear that Grinling was being frequently wined and dined lavishly by important gentlemen at their clubs. Since becoming known to Thomas Betterton he was rising rapidly in the public eye through his growing reputation for beautiful carving. He had no shortage of work and the next day he was to interview several young woodcarvers with a view to taking on one of them as an apprentice to assist him in his workshop on the ground floor.

  It was during the talk at table that Robert mentioned Saskia’s need of a horse. Grinling immediately had the solution.

  ‘The landlord has a couple of horses in his stable, which he took in lieu of payment from a husband and wife, who had imbibed so much during a week’s sojourn that they could not meet their bills.’

  Elizabeth nodded. ‘We can ask Ben – that’s Lucy’s young beau – for his advice as to which would be best for Saskia.’

  Grinling smiled benignly at her in gentle reproof. ‘I think Robert and I are well able to judge which is the better of the two animals and if the one that the woman rode would be right for her.’

  ‘Of course, my dear,’ Elizabeth replied, suspiciously docile.

  Saskia could see that she was making fun of his moment of pomposity, but he did not see it. She hid a smile herself before making a statement to close the discussion. ‘I’m afraid I’m not in a position to afford my own horse yet. Perhaps later—’

  Elizabeth looked sternly at her. ‘You need it now, Saskia. You can’t walk everywhere.’

  ‘If it is a question of cost,’ Grinling said, ‘you could rent one of those two horses by the month. Maybe until you are ready to buy?’

  Saskia nodded. ‘It would be a solution for the time being if I were able to ride.’

  ‘You would soon learn.’

  Robert intervened. ‘I’ve already offered to teach Saskia.’

  Grinling nodded. ‘Then we’ll talk to the innkeeper before you both leave.’

  Then the conversation switched to other topics and the time passed quickly.

  It was getting dusk when eventually the visit was at an end and the four of them went downstairs together to go first into Grinling’s large workshop. He lit some candle-lamps which, combined with the lamplight illumining the courtyard, enabled the visitors to view some of his latest works. His interest no longer lay wholly in re
ligious subjects, for festoons and foliage had presently captured his imagination and there were glorious outpourings as if his workshop were part of a forest blossoming with flowers and laden with fruit. These were surrounds for large portraits and doorways and some to create festoons around all or part of a grand room, much of it in his beloved lime wood. Full daylight was needed to examine the work in detail and Saskia resolved to return one day to see these works at their best.

  When Grinling had extinguished the lamps and locked the door again they went to view the two horses. Both Grinling and Robert looked at both of them carefully. Then, in spite of what Grinling had said earlier, he did question Ben, a tousle-haired, freckle-faced young man, as to whether either of two mounts was suitable for a beginner to ride. Elizabeth promptly nudged Saskia with her elbow.

  ‘Men!’ she whispered derisively, rolling up her eyes. They giggled together.

  Ben indicated the darker of the two mounts with a white blaze, and he did not hesitate in his reply. ‘This mare is old, but she is as gentle as a doe and would suit Queen Catherine herself, master.’

  ‘What is her name?’ Saskia asked. She had gone forward to pat the mare, already loving her for her beautiful eyes.

  ‘Her previous owner called her Acorn after the oak tree that hid the King when he was in flight from old wart-on-the-nose Cromwell.’

  Saskia smiled. ‘In that case she was well named.’

  ‘So is it agreed?’ Robert asked her. ‘You will let me teach you how to ride?’

  Elizabeth answered for her. ‘Indeed she will. It is very kind of you, Robert.’

  Saskia felt as if everything had been taken out of her hands, but Acorn had won her over more than the persuasion of her friends. It only remained for an agreement with the innkeeper. Saskia went with Grinling back into the inn and the procedure was soon settled. Acorn was to be collected as soon as Saskia had had the stable on her land repaired.

  Although it was dark when she and Robert arrived back at her cottage she went indoors to light a lantern and then he went with her to see what repairs were needed in the stable. There he took the lantern from her and held it high as he looked around, the glow highlighting the planes of his face as he gave his judgement.

  ‘There’s nothing seriously wrong here. A few new planks, some hinges and a serious sweeping out is all that’s required. I’ll do it for you myself.’

  ‘No, that’s too much,’ she said sternly. ‘You’ve already offered to give up time to teach me to ride.’

  He lowered the lantern and set it on a ledge as he looked fiercely down into her face. ‘When are you going to realize that anything I do for you is a pleasure to me?’

  She drew back a step, causing some old straw to rustle underfoot. ‘It should not be. I don’t want to be under an obligation to you or any other man.’

  He groaned in exasperation and seized her by the shoulders, pulling her to him. ‘Wake up, Saskia!’ he exclaimed angrily. ‘I can’t wait for you for ever!’

  Then he clamped his mouth down on hers in a kiss that set up such a whirlwind in her mind that she trembled violently in every limb. She believed afterwards she would have fallen to the ground if he had not been holding her within the circle of his arm while his other hand caressed her. When the kiss ended his lips continued to hover caressingly over hers as if he would kiss her again, but he put her abruptly from him and went striding out of the stable, taking the lantern with him. She followed quickly to avoid being left in the dark. He deposited the lantern on her doorstep and went to his waiting coach. She thought that he was going to leave without saying anything more, but as he entered the equipage he spoke over his shoulder to her.

  ‘You shall have your first riding lesson at six o’clock after you have closed the stall. These May evenings are light enough for at least two hours in the saddle.’

  The coach door was shut after him and he was driven away.

  She did not go indoors at once, the violent trembling having failed to leave her and her heart was still beating a race of its own. Robert had shown that he wanted her with a passionate ferocity that she had first glimpsed in his eyes without understanding when she had been standing on a staircase far away in Rotterdam. Now she forced herself to accept the fact that completely against her will and by its own volition her traitor body would have welcomed his passion, her breasts left aching for further caresses from his demanding hands. Yet he was a man she did not want and could never love. She stood quietly, breathing in the soft night air until calmed by it, all the while looking up at the star-filled sky.

  Then a shiver passed through her and she rubbed her arms before picking up the lantern and going into the cottage. She bolted the door firmly as if she feared he might return and could not keep her thoughts from his kissing as she went upstairs to bed.

  Twelve

  In the early morning Saskia was awakened by a hammering. She left her bed to see from the window overlooking the road that a horse and cart was parked on the grass verge. Then, turning, she hurried across to the rear window, and saw a workman on a ladder repairing the stable roof. Opening the window, she called to him.

  ‘Good day! Who sent you here?’

  ‘Master Harting.’

  ‘I thought from the way he spoke to me yesterday that he was coming himself.’

  ‘I know nothing of that, mistress. I received my instructions late last night. Do you have a drop of beer? This is thirsty work.’

  She had no beer, but took him a cup of tea instead. He had never tasted tea before and put it to his lips suspiciously. He had no idea what a treat it was, for tea was extremely expensive and Saskia rationed herself.

  During the day there was a delivery of straw and a sack of feed, which was properly stowed away with the amount she had already ordered. It seemed as if Robert had thought of everything. Later, when the carpenter had finished his task, he showed Saskia what he had done and she was pleased with the result, for now the mare would have a roomy stall under a watertight roof. The repaired stable-door would enable Acorn to look out at the world.

  When Saskia would have paid the carpenter he waved the money aside.

  ‘No, mistress. I’m getting paid from Master Harting’s office.’

  ‘But I want to pay you myself.’

  ‘Begging your pardon, mistress, but I have my orders.’

  She bit her lip, prepared to remonstrate with Robert that evening, but he was not the rider who came cantering up, bringing Acorn with him. Instead it was a well-spoken young man with dark curls to his shoulders, not handsome, but with a pleasant face. He dismounted to introduce himself as Allan Willowby.

  ‘Was Master Harting not able to come?’ she inquired on what she hoped was a casual note.

  ‘I was unaware that he had any intention of coming,’ he replied. ‘Today I was engaged by him to make you a competent horsewoman and I’m sure that can be achieved without any problems.’

  She was stroking Acorn’s white blaze. ‘I shall do my best.’

  He helped her up into the side saddle and as soon as he saw that she was comfortable and he had given her some basic instruction he remounted himself and together they set off. It was from those first few minutes that she was to enjoy riding for the rest of her life and as her instructor had anticipated she was to prove quick to learn.

  That night when she went to bed she pondered over Robert’s failure to appear on two separate occasions in the same day and finally decided with a feeling of relief that he had accepted at last that he had no place in her life. There remained the problem of levelling out in some way his generous gift of the repairs and now of these riding lessons. She decided that she would present him with a selection of the very best products that she made for men, including a new fragrance for the male chin after shaving, which was superior to anything offered by a barber.

  Elizabeth came to visit as had been arranged when Saskia was at her stall. She admired the layout of the pots and flasks.

  ‘It all looks so pretty!’
she declared, clasping her hands together in her enthusiasm.

  There were no customers and they sat in the chairs by the stall to exchange news. Elizabeth was eager to tell that Grinling had plenty of work coming in all the time and that his first apprentice was skilful, quick and eager to learn.

  ‘But Grinling still has not received any orders for his carving from Master Wren,’ she said, a puzzled frown drawing her fine brows together, ‘and the prestige of that gentleman’s patronage almost outshines that of the King himself. It is so maddening when Grinling is being recognized by everybody else as a true artist in wood. It is not as though Master Wren was barring him for the same reason that he will not have Robert involved in his rebuilding.’

  ‘Robert barred?’ Saskia asked in surprise. ‘Whatever is the reason for that?’

  Elizabeth lowered her voice even though there was nobody in sight. ‘When Robert was first in London after coming from Rotterdam with Grinling he soon gained a reputation as a rake and a ravisher. Being of an aristocratic background he had an entrée to St Luke’s club and other such elite gentlemen’s clubs where he drank heavily and played intensely, often risking everything on the turn of a card. Then whenever he was at a ball or any other grand social occasion women would not leave him alone and people gossiped about that too. He had a very beautiful mistress for a while, although his good manners prevented him from bringing her into my company at any time. That’s why Master Wren has told him to gain a more respectable reputation before allowing him to work on hallowed ground.’