‘Put these on quickly now,’ she instructed, ‘I’m going to get you into the house among the mourners and make it appear that you are a relative come for the funeral. Then you’ll stay on.’
Mary, supposing Sarah had been sent by Anne, obeyed. Michael had had another plan that involved smuggling her out of the grounds and then, since by that time he was bonded to keep to his own land, she was to return riding pillion behind Joe on horseback, supposedly collected from a stage-coach that had brought her to Chichester. With his and Joe’s hasty departure this plan had been shelved indefinitely and Mary could see that Sarah’s was a good one, even though the means of bringing it about were the last she would ever have wanted. The black gown fitted her well enough, but she realized as soon as she had it on that the neckline would not take any of her fancy collars that covered her neck support. Sarah, busily packing Mary’s clothes and other possessions into a piece of baggage she had brought with her, saw the girl’s dilemma.
‘There’s no help for it but you will have to remove your neck collar.’
When Mary made a show of vehement protest, Sarah lost patience. ‘Do you want to help the family who have been so good to you, or don’t you? This scheme will save putting them into extra danger on your behalf, because it’s simple and straightforward.’
Let me wear a shawl, Mary mouthed, miming at the same time.
‘You don’t have a black one and neither have I. You’ll have to do as I say.’ Sarah took pride in being nearer to her mistress in the hierarchy of the household than any other servant, there being no housekeeper or butler as there had been before the outbreak of war, and so felt entitled to order Mary about in these special circumstances. ‘There can’t be anything wrong with your neck now. It’s almost seven weeks since Mr Michael saved you, and bruising and swelling doesn’t last for ever. Hurry! There’s no time to be lost!’
There was less need for urgency than she made out, but she could see that Mary would have to be rushed into discarding the collar or panic would take over and the girl would not budge. As soon as Mary’s trembling fingers had unfastened it, Sarah whisked the collar away.
‘There! You have a pretty neck! Not a mark on it. The gown’s falling collar suits you well.’ She took Mary’s hand firmly into hers to save any drawing back at the last moment. ‘Come along. Pick up that candle to light the way. We have to be quick!’
Carrying the baggage in her other hand, she led Mary up the steps and through the Queen’s Door into the section of the room presently closed off by the false wall. She opened it to let them both slip through and Mary blew out the candle, setting it down on the small dining table. From behind the double doors leading into the Great Hall there came a muted buzz of voices from those who had come back from church and the interment and were about to sit down to the dinner prepared for them. Sarah gave Mary final instructions.
‘Go in there. Nobody will notice you. They’ll all be busy finding seats. Meanwhile I’ll take your baggage up to one of the guestrooms.’ She gave Mary a little push. ‘Now!’
Mary, shaking with nervousness and feeling naked and unprotected without her collar, made an inconspicuous entry into the Great Hall. It was as Sarah had said it would be. She blended in, just another mourner going to the table. When she sat down by Julia not even those close at hand observed the child’s start of surprise.
‘Your neck, Mary! Is it well now?’
For a while afterwards Mary did continue to wear her support collar within the privacy of her room until her confidence increased as her condition continued to improve. Although she was always to have some discomfort at certain angles of her head and neck, her collar, once thrown away, was never needed again.
All the servants assumed, without even discussing the matter, that Mary Twyat had arrived when the other mourners poured into the house. When it became known that she would be living at Sotherleigh permanently, having been bereaved herself quite recently with no other family to care for her, she did become a topic of conversation in the kitchen, especially since the fact that she was dumb was of exceptional interest. Cook assured them all authoritatively that it would have been an affliction since birth.
‘That’s when it ’appens. I’ve ’eard of other cases.’
‘She walks a bit stiff, don’t she?’ one maidservant remarked.
‘Proud, most likely.’
Another maidservant sniffed. ‘She better not come any fancy ways with me.’
‘Where’s she been put?’
‘In the bedchamber next to Miss Julia’s.’
‘That’s a nice room. She’ll be comfortable there. But no chest or any travelling boxes came with her. I think Sarah had only one piece of baggage to unpack.’
Again Cook supplied the explanation, ‘I wager she’s a poor relation. All the best families ’ave ’em. Trust the mistress to take ’er in.’
Anne, although thankful that the problem of getting Mary absorbed into the household had been solved, was too distressed to be more than vaguely aware of what was going on around her as daily routine took over again. She spent more time than ever at her embroidery, not making mourning ribbons, as would have been expected, but designs in the brightest flowers of all. Poppies and tulips, cornflowers and buttercups were among those that predominated. Katherine approved of this emotional outlet in the lovely work, not censoring the choice of colours, for Anne’s face was calm whenever she had a needle in her hand. It was easy to guess that with the most brilliant of silks her mind was full of contented memories, the agony of bereavement thrust away.
Julia’s grief was very deep and private. She could not allow herself to cry in the presence of either her mother or her grandmother, fearful of starting their tears afresh, and when she was alone the sorrow clamped painfully in her chest, leaving her anguished and dry-eyed. It was not something she could share with Mary either, for although they were friends it was not a relationship of long standing. There was only one person who would understand her feelings.
He came. When Anne’s letter finally reached Oxford, Christopher closed his books and left his studies, shut the door on his experiments and took horse the same day. After staying overnight at an inn on the way, he reached Sotherleigh the following morning. Julia was alone in the library, packing up her books after her lessons with her tutor, when the door opened and Christopher stood there.
She flew to him, bursting into a torrent of noisy sobs. In silence he guided her across to a carved bench-seat, sat her down and took the place beside her, ready with words of comfort when he had a chance to speak. She flung her arms about his neck and soaked a dark patch on his velvet coat with her tears. Patiently he waited until her sobbing eased and then he took a blue silk handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.
‘I thank you.’ She sat up straight, looked into his good kind face full of concern for her and knew she had in him her best friend in all the world. Surely nobody else had ever had such a special friendship as she shared with Christopher. Vigorously she dried her eyes until not a trace of her tears was left, except for the swollen state of her eyelids. ‘I haven’t been able to cry before.’
‘I guessed that. Do you feel better now?’
‘Yes, but I’m still sad.’
‘It would be unnatural if you weren’t. But now your grief should begin to heal, which is what your father would have wanted above all else.’
‘Have you seen Mama yet?’
He gave a nod. ‘I went to her first with my condolences. She told me the bad news of Michael having to leave. I hope most sincerely that he won’t have to be away long, but at the present time not even the best lawyer in England could get him acquitted of the charges against him. Parliament has decreed that it is treason to give aid to the King or to help those who have assisted him. When I went upstairs to see Mistress Katherine the young woman in the case was with her.’
‘We’re afraid that Mary will never be able to talk again.’
‘Surely she should by now?’
<
br /> ‘Michael said her vocal cords must have been damaged.’
Christopher looked sceptical. ‘I doubt it from what I was told of her fortunate escape from the noose. A temporary swelling of the throat would make it difficult for anyone to speak, but on a permanent basis that is most unlikely. There was a similar case in Oxford not all that long ago when a poor, half-demented woman was hanged for supposedly smothering her illegitimate baby. It did not affect her vocal cords, for she cried out her gratefulness to the medical students who had brought life back into her, saying her innocence had been proved.’
‘What happened to her?’
‘Fortunately for her, the authorities took the same view. There was a complication with the hospital, which had already paid for her body in advance, but the money was refunded.’
‘Maybe Mary could be pardoned too?’
‘Hers is an entirely different case, not only for being a political one, but because from what she has been able to make known to you there was definite proof of her involvement with those seeking to mislead the authorities who were hunting the King.’
‘They’re still looking everywhere for him, you know.’
‘So I have heard. There was a recent report that he was dead. At least now I’ve spoken with your mother I can be sure he is safely abroad, no matter what rumours fly about.’
‘I think Mary is pretty, don’t you?’
‘Yes — and talented too. She was playing the lute when I arrived at your grandmother’s apartment.’
‘The lute?’ Julia was astounded.
‘That is right. Your grandmother said that you had left it there and this morning the young woman picked it up and began to play. From what I could hear before I knocked on the door she plays well. Naturally she stopped as soon as I entered.’
‘She has never played before.’
‘Perhaps the opportunity had never arisen.’
Later Mary managed to make it clear that her aunt had been musical and had taught her. That same evening she played again in Katherine’s parlour, her audience increased by the presence of Anne, Julia and Christopher. Her repertoire included the tunes of old folk songs and Christopher, a tenor, sang the words, encouraging the others to join in the choruses. A maidservant, who had come upstairs to prepare the bedchambers, paused in astonishment at hearing such singing in a house of mourning. Then she thought it was as well, for life had to go on and Mrs Pallister looked almost incapable of doing anything at the present time and needed cheering up. As for the old lady, it was clear she would never get downstairs again, for the loss of her son coming hard on the departure of her grandson had reduced her to physical frailty while her mind remained seemingly as alert as ever. A little singing would be good for her too.
Never had Anne been more grateful for Christopher’s presence than when, two days later, she received an official document. Previously when wishing to discuss financial matters she had been handicapped by being unable to grasp anything the lawyer had tried to explain, but with Christopher she could rely on a sympathetic attitude. He would have none of the impatience with her that the lawyer, a turncoat to Parliament after the King’s defeat at Worcester, had so thinly veiled. She knew only that everything to do with Sotherleigh was left to Michael and his heirs or, if he died childless, to Julia. She herself was allowed to draw an income from the estate until Michael came of age. After that a sum was to be set aside annually for her.
‘Christopher,’ she said shakily, holding out the document to him, ‘the Government is demanding the payment of a large fine because of Robert’s and Michael’s involvement with the Royalist cause. What am I to do?’
He studied the paper slowly and thoughtfully. ‘Yes,’ he said finally, ‘it is heavy indeed, but if possible it must be paid or you will risk Sotherleigh being sequestered. Can you raise the monies?’
Anne looked distracted. ‘I think … I’m not sure … It’s hard to say … but there is money which might suffice. You see when Robert left the sea he kept a financial interest in three of the ships in his company and the share accruing to him was handled by a merchant friend in London. But when war was seen to be inevitable, Robert collected these monies in gold coins and brought them here to be hidden in a secret place and drawn upon only when necessary. I brought the bags out of hiding when Michael was leaving and they are still concealed in my room, but if all that money has to go I don’t know how I shall manage.’
They fetched the bags from Anne’s room and then sat opposite each other at the library table while he counted the gold coins and then went through all the papers and documents in the deed-box she had brought there for his perusal. Afterwards he jotted down figures at a lightning speed and made some calculations while she sat watching him, grateful for all he was doing. Finally he put down the quill pen, glanced over what he had set down and then turned the paper about on the table to push it towards her.
‘Put your mind at rest about the fine. It can be paid. As you will see, I have worked out your financial affairs, allowing for a small income that the new Master of Sotherleigh may expect to draw from the estate to keep him from starvation abroad. There are means by which money can be conveyed to exiles, although it’s often a costly business. Sooner or later you will receive an address from him.’
‘We sent a bag of gold with him when he left and my mother-in-law turned out some jewels I had known nothing about, saying they had been meant for his bride, but he could sell them if he found himself in dire straits.’
‘Then he should be all right for quite a while.’
‘Perhaps indefinitely. He was hoping to find some employment, being fluent in French.’
‘That’s all to the good. It will put less of a burden on you.’
‘If ever he should be in need I can always sell a piece of land to help him, or even to help ourselves if it should prove necessary. Robert did that once or twice.’
‘But that was wartime and he had no choice but to raise capital where he could without resorting to money-lenders. At least you have been left free of debt, unlike many wives whose husbands have gone into exile. I’ve heard of some sad cases.’ Then he returned to the subject of Sotherleigh land. ‘I advise you most strongly not to sell any part of the estate. Once you have paid this fine the land will be virtually your only asset. At the moment the price per acre is at rock-bottom and likely to stay that way with so many Royalist estates being bankrupt and on the market. More important still is to remember that you have a duty to keep Sotherleigh intact for Michael.’
‘I’ll do anything you say.’
‘With regard to the farmland and its tenant-farmers, leave everything as it is. Your bailiff has proved himself to be a reliable and competent man and I know from what Michael has told me that he is also trustworthy and won’t try to cheat you in your widowhood. However, you should rent out to your Royalist neighbours all the rest of the Sotherleigh land that is lying fallow as far as bringing in money is concerned. Even the park itself could be rented out as grazing land. It would be easy enough to draw a line along the wall that runs south of the maze and divides off the lawns and the flower gardens from the greater part of the park.’
‘What you suggest is impossible,’ she cried distractedly. ‘You don’t realize how much things have changed in this district. My neighbours are all Parliamentarians now. Every one of the old Royalist families had to move elsewhere when their property and estates were sequestered.’
He wondered why Sotherleigh was the exception and thought it had probably been overlooked or, more likely, that it was too small for the grandiose tastes of some Parliamentarians who were less committed to Puritan ideals than others. ‘The war is over now,’ he reminded her, not wanting to hurt her sensitive feelings, but knowing that for her good he had to be firm. ‘As I remember, the boundaries of two estates, other than those of Warrender Hall, border Sotherleigh to the east and to the south. I will go myself to negotiate with the two new owners, playing one against the other to get you the highest rent
possible. I’ll take your lawyer with me and also the necessary papers drawn up in readiness for signature. Is that agreed?’
He was giving her no option and she knew it was from the best of motives. ‘I agree,’ she said faintly, twisting her hands on the table before her.
He leaned over to still them with his own sympathetic clasp. ‘It’s only a temporary arrangement and can be cancelled when times change for the better. In my reading of history I have learned that no reign or regime lasts for ever, although no doubt Attila the Hun and the Romans once thought that nothing could ever gainsay them. Take heart! Nobody can fill the gap that the loss of your husband has left in your life, but you have Julia and I predict that in mellower times Michael will be here at Sotherleigh again.’
She inclined her head. ‘You give me comfort, Christopher. It shames me that I’m such a weak creature.’
‘You have more courage in you than you realize, madam. That is why now you are going to cope with the necessary economies I have mapped out for you.’ He then went on to advise her how to keep secure the money she had and also gave advice on other minor matters. When he suggested she should shut up part of the house and reduce the staff drastically, she was aghast.
‘I can’t do that,’ she cried out in protest. ‘They’ve all been so loyal! Every one of them.’ She straightened her back. ‘In fact, I will not do it!’
He was pleased to see her speaking out. Before his arrival he had feared to find her collapsed completely in the face of her tragic bereavement, for in the past he had seen her bewildered by trouble and quite distrait. Yet somehow she was struggling against herself to keep going and he admired her immensely for it.
‘Very well,’ he said, ‘I’ll speak to the staff myself and explain the situation. If they should all be willing to take a reduction in their wages until such time as they find other employment, they may stay on here indefinitely. And now, one other matter. I think you should tell Mistress Katherine of all that has befallen this household, or would you prefer that I should see her?’
Circle of Pearls Page 18
