Circle of Pearls

by Rosalind Laker

  ‘I don’t want a gap left along the edge when it’s mounted,’ she explained.

  ‘Has Ridley finished the frame yet?’

  ‘No. He said it wouldn’t be ready until the end of next week.’

  ‘Then if I were you I should wait until you can try it against the frame before you decide.’

  ‘I’ll do that.’

  Ridley had expected to deliver the frame to the house when it was polished, already guessing the Pallister ladies would want to see it first before committing the girl’s work to it, but Julia forestalled him. He was having an afternoon nap in the chair he kept in his workshop, his feet up on the bench, when the door of the workshop crashed open, flooding him with sunshine, and she came bounding in.

  ‘Did I wake you? Oh, I’m sorry,’ she exclaimed.

  He dropped his feet with a thud to the floor and stood up quickly. ‘Wake me? No, Miss Julia. I was thinking with my eyes shut for a few moments. Did you come for your frame?’

  ‘Yes. Is it ready?’ Her wide smile was eager.

  It struck him as he reached for the frame on a shelf that she was turning into a real beauty, this downright girl with a mind of her own. With her creamy, unblemished skin, those sparkling dark blue eyes and the glorious sheen of her hair she was transformed from the moderately pretty child she had once been. There was still the same unconscious, haughty poise of the head, which was so much like the old lady’s that he grinned to himself at the resemblance.

  ‘Here it is, Miss Julia,’ he said, handing the frame to her. ‘Its door is still separate. Do you want to take that too?’

  ‘Yes, please. This frame looks splendid. How clever you are!’

  She left as spectacularly as she had come, darting out and away, holding the frame and the little door above her head as she danced in wide circles away from the workshop. It might have been a May Day garland that she held and he could hear her singing when he began work again, his rest over.

  Skipping, dancing and twirling, she continued on her way, her saffron skirt and petticoats swooshing up and out to reveal her white-stockinged calves, her garter ribbons engaged in a dance of their own. Her exuberance was due to everything being particularly wonderful that day from the weather to a happier atmosphere at Sotherleigh, as her mother had at last turned the corner of sorrow and become more herself again. If there had been a slight setback some days ago it had gone away.

  To add to this joy there was another. Christopher, whom she had not seen for a long while, had had a great honour bestowed on him by Gresham College in the City of London. He had been offered and had accepted the greatly esteemed chair of astronomy there. That it should have been given to such a young man was proof of the high regard in which he was held. Julia could not help wondering how he could tear himself away from his beloved Oxford until she remembered he had once said that London was the most exciting city in which to live. What was most important to her personally was his written promise that as soon as he had organized his routine in London he would visit his good friends at Sotherleigh.

  On and on she danced, taking a short cut across a lawn to return to the house by way of the drive. Carefree, she sprang through a gap in the elms and bushes to land, bright as a butterfly, in the cool green shade and right in the path of a spirited horse scarcely a foot away.

  The stranger in the saddle reined in instantly with a jingle of bridle and a rattling of gravel under hooves. Alarmed, she had darted back to a safe distance, clutching the frame and its door to her chest like a shield. For a matter of seconds she and the horseman stared at each other as if mutually transfixed by the danger that had only just been averted, his eyes dark and piercing. He was clothed in creamy velvet with a wide-brimmed plumed hat as black as his hair and his splendid thoroughbred, which stood sixteen hands high with a tetchy flare of its snorting nostrils and a gleaming eye. She thought it as fierce-looking as its rider, but for the moment she could not place him. Who was this young man with the handsome and yet daunting countenance, the forceful nose, the clear tanned skin and the bold chin? Whoever he was, she judged he would not be easy to cross.

  ‘Allow me to present myself, Miss Julia.’ His voice was deep, his speech that of a gentleman. He had swept off his hat and held it against his chest, ‘I am Adam Warrender of Warrender Hall.’

  The blood drained from her face with a speed that was painful, making her skin tingle. The last time he had spoken to her was eight years ago from the saddle of his pearl-white pony. She knew him now, although she had scarcely seen him since that day in Chichester. He had been almost permanently away at school during his late father’s military activities and, from what she had heard, was presently studying at Cambridge, which all along had been as staunchly for Cromwell as Oxford had been for the King. Shock, fury, hatred and terror exploded in her simultaneously like a gigantic firework. Crimson gushed into her face and her eyes glittered. That he should come here after all that had happened was unsupportable. She wanted only that he should be gone.

  ‘We’ll not receive you here at Sotherleigh, Adam Warrender! I speak for my brother in his absence!’

  He redonned his hat with a frown. ‘I’m not prepared to accept your dismissal. It is Mrs Robert Pallister whom I wish to see.’

  Her mother! He dared to hurt the one person she would die to protect! Something seemed to snap in her. ‘You’ll not go near her!’ she cried out. ‘You and yours have caused enough misery in her life. I’ll not let you insult her with your company. Turn back! Go away! Now!’

  Seized by panic that he might ride past her, she hurled the frame she held at him. But it was not an easy object to aim and to her horror one corner of it drove like an arrow-head deep into the horse’s shoulder, hanging for a matter of seconds before it dropped. She heard herself scream as if suffering the horse’s pain herself. The spirited animal, maddened by the unexpected onslaught, had reared up with a loud whinny of pain, hooves plunging and eyes rolling while its rider, livid with rage, fought grimly to stay in the saddle. She would have rushed forward to help soothe the animal, but Adam Warrender bawled at her to stay clear.

  ‘Use your wits! Do you want to risk injury a second time?’

  She glowered, blaming his pride on his refusal to let her do what she could. Nothing would please her more than to see him fall from the saddle and she guessed that he knew it. Taking better aim, she flung the frame-door directly at him, making sure that she would avoid the horse this time. It went spinning through the air and would have struck him harmlessly on the arm if his mount had not careened at that precise moment. The edge of the frame-door caught him across the cheekbone. Blood spurted.

  ‘You wild cat!’ he roared at her furiously.

  The horse had glimpsed the skimming object and its haunches swung towards her as it gathered muscles as if to bolt. Adam Warrender was using all his strength to master the situation and it was unlucky chance for him that a bird should swoop across the drive with a flash of wing. With a snort the horse took a great leap forward and was off at a gallop down the drive, bearing its irate owner out through the gates and away from Sotherleigh.

  In the silence that followed Julia remained standing where she was, her arms at her side and breathing deeply. It was the first time she had ever tasted vengeance, but it was overshadowed by the torment she felt over the horse. She had never harmed an animal before in all her life. Admittedly she did not think any permanent damage had been done, but that did not change how she felt. She was less sure about Adam Warrender’s cheek, for it had looked a gaping cut, but firmly she told herself that it should serve as a reminder for a long time to come that Sotherleigh would always be barred to him.

  The frame lay in splinters on the drive where the frantic hooves had trampled on it. She retrieved the little door, which had fallen free. In a sober mood she retraced her steps at a slow pace back to Ridley’s workshop. She found him working with a plane, curls of wood floating everywhere. He paused in surprise at seeing her again so soon.

 
She spoke quietly. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to make me another frame, Mr Ridley. The other one is broken.’

  ‘What! Did you fall over with it in your larking about?’

  ‘No. I threw it at the new Master of Warrender Hall and made his horse bolt.’

  Ridley’s mouth dropped open and he looked aghast. She had dreaded that he would laugh, but his expression was one of complete dismay.

  ‘Miss Julia! What have you done?’

  ‘More than just that. I clipped his cheek with the frame-door and it bled.’

  Ridley groaned loudly and shook his head. ‘The late Colonel Warrender was the most powerful Parliamentarian in this country. He had friends in high places. All that power and all that goodwill will be with his son now. If the Colonel was a bitter enemy of Sotherleigh, just think how much worse the son might prove to be in view of what you did today.’ His dismal words set a terrible qualm churning in the pit of her stomach, but she stood her ground. ‘I admit I mismanaged everything, but as a Pallister I had to deny entrance to a Warrender.’

  He heaved a heavy sigh and took the frame-door from her. ‘I can see this is scratched, but it’s easily polished up again. I’ll start on the replacement frame tomorrow.’

  She followed the same route as before away from the workshop and back to the house. The drive was deserted and the gates closed.

  8

  As always Julia went first to Katherine, full of distress about what she had done to the horse. After she had calmed down she gave her grandmother a full account of all that had happened, including Ridley’s warning.

  ‘The horse was not seriously harmed and take no notice of Ridley,’ Katherine said confidently. Out of perverse curiosity she would have liked the opportunity to see Harry’s grandson. Since he appeared to share the same insensitive ways of his father, it would have given her pleasure to have dismissed him in her most freezing manner, for she would have insisted that she and Anne receive him together. She could not reprove Julia for her impulsive behaviour, for in all honesty she knew she would have reacted in the same way at her granddaughter’s age, given such circumstances. ‘However, say nothing to your mother. We do not want to worry her unnecessarily.’

  In spite of Julia’s conviction that Adam Warrender would not return after his ignominious departure, Katherine sent her with instructions to the gatehouse keeper that he should not open the gates again to that enemy of Sotherleigh. The gatehouse keeper took his orders literally. When a letter addressed to Anne came from Warrender Hall he refused the servant admission and would not accept the missive through the bars of the gate. The servant rode away with his mission unfulfilled and no further attempt at delivery took place.

  This second insult coming hard on the first was not overlooked by the Master of Warrender Hall. Full of anger, he penned his bold signature to a letter destined for Westminster. Then he finished settling his late father’s affairs and made ready to return to Cambridge and complete his studies. Changes lay in wait for Sotherleigh. When he was home again he would view them at his leisure. There should be no-one to bar his entrance next time, least of all the girl with passionate beauty in her face and hair that blazed like the Slindon woods in autumn.

  Ridley finished a new frame for Julia and mounted her stump work. No mirrors were entirely true, not even the Venetian one that Ned had once brought home from a voyage for Katherine, and hers, which had been cut from a large looking-glass that had been broken, gave a good reflection only when she stood close. Yet that did not detract from her pleasure in it and when its door was shut it became a colourful picture on her panelled wall. The figure of Elizabeth in the ivory gown stood proud, tiny beads twinkling like the diamonds they represented, and tiny seed pearls trimmed the front of the square neckline to portray the precious drop-pearls. Much painstaking work had gone into the embroidery on the sleeves and skirt.

  When Christopher sent word that he would be paying a visit the mirror’s door was never closed for a week before his arrival. Julia studied her appearance constantly, trying new ways with her hair and deciding which ear-bobs to wear. It was a long time since she had seen him and she wanted her good friend to see that she was a grown woman now.

  The day before he was due she went riding for the whole morning and arrived home late for dinner, dishevelled from a final gallop. She ran into the house to go skidding through the Great Hall and enter the adjoining room where she knew her mother and Mary would be at table. She intended a swift apology for her tardiness and then a flying trip to her room to make herself ready to eat with them.

  ‘Forgive me for being late! I — ’

  Her voice trailed away. Christopher was there with them, rising from his chair with a smile to greet her, and for a timeless moment they saw each other with new eyes. Everything registered. He had not been prepared for the change in her, never supposing that she would have left childhood so completely behind to become this lovely girl with the flushed open-air look to her and the glorious mass of hair that had grown more luxuriant and richer in colour, full of reddish-gold tints that set off her creamy skin.

  ‘I found I had time to visit Sotherleigh before my London lecture and thought I would give all here a surprise.’ He had reached her and kissed her hand and then her cheek.

  ‘How long have you been here?’ She felt she was absorbing the sight of him into her whole body. Never before had such a feeling come upon her. He was twenty-four now, no longer the youth she had known, his cheeks less hollowed, his nose appearing larger with the long, straight nostrils more pronounced. For the first time she realized that his mouth was the most handsome she had ever seen, with a sensitivity of movement and those amiable, curling corners that were so quick to smile. And the way he was looking at her! Drinking her in!

  ‘A couple of hours, I suppose,’ he answered her.

  Anne spoke from where she sat at the head of the table. ‘More like three, I should say.’ She was in excellent spirits, gladdened by the presence of a surrogate son.

  Julia could scarcely bear the thought of having missed even a minute with him. For the first time in her life she considered that her morning ride had been time thrown away. ‘Then I’ll be extra quick in changing to join you at dinner.’

  ‘Don’t let the remainder of your soup get cold, Christopher,’ Anne urged mundanely, missing the instinctive, coquettish glance Julia threw over her shoulder at him as she whirled from the room. But Mary noticed it and saw how his gaze lingered after her for a matter of seconds before he returned to the table.

  When Julia appeared a quarter of an hour later, she attracted even her mother’s attention. She had donned one of her best gowns, a cornflower blue silk, and during the time she had been upstairs had restored to it the rose-embroidered ribbons that had been removed in keeping with the austere rules that governed present-day dress. Around her neck was the blue bead necklace that had been her father’s last gift to her and narrower ribbons had been plaited into the top-knot of her hair with streamers left floating down her back.

  Christopher, observing the astonishment of both the older woman and the younger at the table, rose to hold Julia’s chair for her. ‘What a pleasure to see a young lady attired fit for the King’s Court — as once it was.’

  A deep blush ran over Julia’s cheekbones at the compliment as she seated herself. Her mother took up the subject of the King and his small, impoverished Court, who had been jostled from pillar to post on the Continent, politically unwelcome wherever they went. He was presently in Bruges where, according to what Christopher had heard recently, the Flemings had shown him more kindness than he had received anywhere else.

  ‘He has formed the Royal Regiment of Guards, raised from our fellow countrymen who have followed him into exile,’ Christopher said. ‘It is only the nucleus of the vast force he will need to make any attempt at a return, but hope is stirring.’ That afternoon Anne wished to discuss her financial position with Christopher. As he was only staying overnight and would be away soon after midday
on the morrow, they went without delay into the library. Julia waited impatiently, bewildered by the excitement she was experiencing at his presence in the house. It had never been like this before. When eventually he emerged with her mother again, she felt her heart turn over with joy at the sight of him once more.

  ‘We’re going for a stroll,’ Anne informed her. ‘Christopher wants to take a look at our neighbour Hannington’s herd, which is grazing on our rented-out parkland. Come with us.’ Julia had every intention of accompanying them, although she could have wept with frustration at not having him to herself. Yet it was bliss that he took her hand as the three of them left the house and held it all the way. At the same time realization dawned on her that she had fallen in love with him.

  That evening she sat beside him when, with Anne and Mary, they played cards with her grandmother, who was still a skilful player. Katherine had noticed the change in her granddaughter from the moment she entered the room. There was a new radiance in the girl’s face and those sparkling glances directed at Christopher could have only one interpretation. He seemed equally fascinated by her, but whether it was because of her newly blossomed beauty or anything more was impossible to judge.

  When it was nine o’clock, which had become Katherine’s hour for retiring, they left her in Sarah’s care and went downstairs to the Queen’s Parlour. Mary picked up her lute and began to play a country dance. Christopher, noticing Anne’s toe tapping, took her by the hand and led her into the lively steps, dancing her out into the hall where there was more room. Julia, following with Mary, was pleased to see her mother enjoying herself. The dance ended with the laughter of the two dancers and the thrumming of the strings, Julia applauding.

  ‘Play again, Mary,’ Christopher urged.

  Anne shook her head merrily, ‘I’m too out of breath after that romp for any more exercise. Take another partner now.’