Circle of Pearls

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Circle of Pearls Page 24

by Rosalind Laker


  For some reason the prompting caused Katherine to blink and she spoke in slurred tones as if momentarily she had dozed. ‘Papers? There are none. There was never any need. Neither should there be now. Harry never meant to let anyone turn me out of Sotherleigh.’

  Hope soared again in Julia. ‘You know someone who could help! That’s wonderful! I’ll ride to him at once wherever he is and tell him of our desperate plight. Who is Harry? Where shall I find him?’

  Katherine gave a faint sigh. The tremulousness of her lips had developed into erratic little spasms. ‘At the Hall, of course. The Warrenders have lived there for generations.’

  It had become difficult to understand what she was saying and Julia felt a cold finger of fear run down her spine. ‘Are you speaking of Sir Harry Warrender, Grandmother?’

  There was no reply, but Katherine turned her head and looked at her quite helplessly. Julia smothered a cry of alarm. It was as though those alert hazel eyes had retreated behind opaque glass, seeing her only from a far, unfocused distance. Without letting go of her grandmother’s hand, Julia half rose to lean across and jerk the bell-pull that would summon Sarah.

  ‘I don’t think you’re very well, Grandmother. We’ll sit quietly together.’

  Then something of all that had been said seemed to have penetrated Katherine’s consciousness again, for she struggled to sit forward with a childlike grimace of sorrow contorting her features and her words came in a slurred torrent. ‘Never let anyone make me leave Sotherleigh!’

  ‘Nobody ever shall!’ Julia promised wildly, putting both arms around her and gently easing her back against the cushions.

  At that point Sarah arrived and instantly summed up the situation. ‘What happened?’ she asked, peering anxiously at Katherine, whose eyes were closed. Julia explained and they had a whispered conversation during which Sarah remembered to tell her that the mistress of the house and Mary were back from Chichester. Then together they raised Katherine slowly to her feet and between them they guided her, one slow step at a time, into the bedchamber.

  ‘That’s right, madam,’ Sarah said encouragingly to Katherine. At the bedside she nodded to Julia that no more assistance was needed. Still talking to the old lady, Sarah began helping her to bed.

  Julia ran from the room. She met Anne on her own coming slowly up the stairs. One look at her mother’s stricken face was enough to tell her that the bad news of the threatened sequestration had been received.

  ‘I’ve heard!’ Anne exclaimed, shaking her head as if unable to believe such a catastrophe.

  ‘I’ve something else to tell you. Grandmother has been taken ill! I fear it was the shock. I’m going to send someone for the doctor.’

  Anne gulped with dismay, gathered up her skirts and rushed past her daughter to take the rest of the flight. Reaching Katherine’s apartment, she tossed her straw hat and summer gloves aside and went at once to help Sarah tend to the old lady and get her settled. A groom went galloping off on horseback to Chichester.

  Anne was coming out of the apartment when her daughter returned. ‘I think your grandmother has had a slight stroke. Probably rest is all she needs, but the doctor will determine that.’ She reached for Julia and they hugged each other tightly. ‘Oh, what a sad day this is!’

  ‘How did you hear about Sotherleigh?’ Julia asked as they drew apart again.

  ‘I was petitioned by the gatehouse-keeper’s wife as soon as her husband had driven us into the courtyard where the gardener also met me,’ Anne explained tautly. ‘When I came into the house the rest of the staff were waiting. They all want to come with us when we leave.’

  ‘We’re not going to be dispossessed! There must be a way out of it somehow.’

  ‘Pray God there is. I was on my way to see Mr Walker and I must find him now. Downstairs I was told he was inspecting the Long Gallery, but by now he is probably in the east wing. He asked for the keys when he heard it was shut up. Does he look like a man with any pity in him?’

  ‘No. He’s arrogant and aggressive and, I would say, as hard as nails.’

  ‘That’s what I feared,’ Anne sighed despondently.

  ‘Do you want me to be with you?’

  Anne shook her head. ‘I think it is best that I see him alone.’ Absently she patted her daughter’s cheek. ‘Your temper does get the better of you at times and I intend to use all the tact I possess.’

  ‘I’ve already crossed swords with him.’ Julia was painfully conscious of having committed another folly that had back-lashed against those she loved.

  Anne’s expression did not change. ‘I heard that from the servants. Mr Walker has reduced the time allotted for our moving out from forty-eight hours to twenty-four because of it.’

  ‘He has no right to penalize everyone else because of me!’

  ‘When he has a document of authority signed by the Lord Protector of England he has every right to do whatever he wishes.’ Anne was exceptionally calm. She felt as if she had been thrust to the edge of a precipice and if she panicked there would be no hope of saving a situation that had gone from bad to worse. ‘I shall try to persuade him to reverse that decision. We need all the time he will grant us, especially now that Katherine is ill.’

  ‘Stop talking about our going as if there were no chance at all. Let’s send for Christopher! He would petition Cromwell on our behalf. He managed to gain a pardon for his uncle in the Tower, even though the old man was too proud to accept it. I’ll go myself to fetch him — the groom could escort me and Sarah as well if I have to be chaperoned.’

  ‘I forbid it!’ It was so rare for Anne to put her foot down that she was almost as taken aback as her own daughter. ‘Christopher came to mind immediately when I received the first of several garbled accounts as to what had befallen us. First I’m going to see Mr Walker and hear from his own lips what the situation is. There may be the chance of some reprieve.’

  ‘Mama! That man has his hand on this house and nothing you can say or do will make him relinquish it. Our chance lies elsewhere.’

  ‘I can try.’

  Anne walked back down the corridor along which she had rushed such a short time before. She passed the carved flower screen and entered the Long Gallery. There was no sign of Mr Walker, although the dust-sheets had been pulled away from the furniture and also from some of the paintings as if he had wanted to assess everything. As she advanced to a door at the far end, which led to the east wing, she wondered how many times she had had to put a shield over her timid heart, for she was terrified of this man she had to face. She knew he was in an ugly mood already through her daughter’s behaviour, but in no way did she blame Julia. Youth invariably spoke its mind and it was not in the girl’s bright nature to be submissive to injustice. When she reached the door she hesitated for a minute in order to summon up her strength of will. She had not been into this part of the house since the early days of her widowhood. Then, taking a deep breath, she pulled open the door and went through.

  Makepeace Walker was in the master bedroom. He had seen at once by its good size that it should be his place of sleeping. When he had folded the shutters back at the sides of the windows, which he had then set wide, he had turned to view the room in the sunny afternoon light. A massive four-poster, marvellously carved as was most of the furniture he had seen, stood caparisoned in hangings of heavy green satin with gilt fringe, a coverlet of the same satin, and all embroidered magnificently in the style of the Elizabethan period when it was most surely made. Tudor roses, flowers and foliage gave the general theme, but most marvellous of all was the deep pelmet that hung from the carved canopy, so stiff with stitchery that it could have stood alone. He moved nearer to examine it more closely and then he frowned censoriously at what he saw.

  The pelmet was a frieze depicting every kind of merry pastime. Men and women cavorted in dances, kissed in bowers of roses, followed one another in procession playing musical instruments and rode horses with streaming manes in the chase. Boars and stags and even ex
otic wild animals were to be seen among the trees, every leaf of which was portrayed in the same delicate detail as was everything else. Cleavages and codpieces were much in evidence since this frieze had been made for a marriage bed. The Elizabethans had had a realistic outlook on life, with a bawdy sense of humour to match, and the little jokes in the frieze, which would have made them laugh heartily, offended Makepeace Walker to the depth of his narrow-minded nature. There was even a bathing scene, the nipples picked out in what he believed were called French knots.

  Yet he could not take his eyes from the frieze, although he knew it was tempting him to lascivious thoughts, and he was lured to look for a man and woman coupling, but there was nothing of the kind. A husband and wife, their marital state symbolized by looped rings, did lie decorously in a bed, smiling at each other from their pillows, the bed-hangings a cleverly executed representation of the very ones Makepeace Walker was examining. Garlands of flowers led from this embroidered marriage bed to cradles and then to children playing, growing up, and finally skipping hand in hand into the same dance that commenced the frieze. He returned his gaze to the nude female bathers, who were voluptuous in breasts and buttocks. Lost in salacious contemplation, he failed to hear the whisper of lavender taffeta as Anne entered the room.

  ‘Mr Walker, I believe.’

  He started as if he had been caught in some immoral act and turned such a glare on her that she quailed visibly. ‘Yes madam!’

  ‘I am Mrs Pallister,’ She came farther into the room.

  He made a slight bow and with his senses heightened by the frieze took note of her slim yet well-shaped figure, the waist as narrow as a girl’s, the elegant length of neck. As for her face, she had remarkably fine eyes, large and grey with curling lashes as dark as her hair, which had a wing of white at each temple, much as if a feather had been laid there for ornamentation. In all she was a good-looking and attractive woman, who was wasted in widowhood. He had buried two wives himself and loathed the role of widower with its sexual deprivation and lack of a well-managed household, for he had been singularly unlucky with housekeepers, having no mother or sister to manage such domestic appointments for him.

  ‘If you have come to argue your right to retain ownership of this house, Mrs Pallister, you will be wasting your time. His Highness, the Lord Protector of England, has granted Sotherleigh to me for loyal services rendered and even if I should wish it I could not spurn such a gift.’ He took a folded paper from his pocket and held it out to her. ‘Read the document for yourself.’

  She took it from him and read it through carefully. It was all as she had been told. She refolded the paper and returned it. ‘Since I cannot dispute your authority to be here, at least I can appeal at a humanitarian level for an extension of stay for myself and my family. When I returned home about twenty minutes ago I found my mother-in-law had suffered what I believe to be a slight stroke. I have sent for the doctor.’

  ‘Indeed?’ he remarked sarcastically, ‘I suppose you are about to say that she cannot be moved for many weeks. Then your Royalist doctor will connive with you by confirming the nature of this unexpected attack.’

  She flushed. ‘We are honest people in this house, sir! Do you imagine that I should pretend such a dreadful thing as the sickness of my late husband’s mother, for whom I have the deepest affection?’

  He inclined his head, for this was obviously a woman without duplicity, a ring of truth in all her words. ‘Maybe I did speak too hastily, madam, but I was warned to expect every kind of trick to cause delay.’

  ‘You’ll meet none here.’

  ‘Good. However, I can make no decision until I have seen the sick woman for myself and received the doctor’s report. You must remember I was insulted by your wayward daughter when I was barely over the threshold.’

  ‘She loves this house.’

  He noted there was no apology. Anne Pallister had some spirit in her in spite of her acute nervousness, which revealed itself in her voice and in the rotating of the lace handkerchief that she held in her hand. During the war years it had been his experience that often on the battlefield the mildest and seemingly meekest of men would perform the bravest deeds. No doubt facing up to him was the equivalent for her.

  ‘Who keeps the accounts here?’ he asked, turning to more practical matters.

  ‘I keep both the household and the estate accounts. You will wish to see them. I will set them out in the library, which is downstairs.’

  ‘I have already been in there. After I have been through them I shall want you to be on hand in case of any query.’

  ‘Am I allowed the furniture and the trappings of Sotherleigh?’

  ‘No, madam. Only personal effects. If there is any stored furniture in the attics or cellars surplus to the house’s requirements, you may take that. However, should there be something of special sentimental value that does not come into either of these two categories, I would be prepared to consider whether it could be spared.’ He expected thanks, but none came. She merely cast a distraught glance about the room as if at a loss to find anything that was not treasured by her. It reminded him of the decision he had made about his sleeping quarters, ‘I shall take this room and its attendant facilities for my use. Send maidservants to make up the bed and change these hangings for something plainer.’

  Her gaze lingered on them. ‘Then I will ask to keep possession of them.’

  ‘I regret that cannot be permitted. They shall go from here into a bonfire.’

  She was aghast. ‘Those hangings were embroidered as a marriage gift for my mother-in-law by Queen Elizabeth’s ladies. Mistress Katherine never slept in that bed, because she was widowed before the house was finished, but that frieze, together with the carved flower screen, are the two most revered works of art in the house.’

  ‘That frieze, madam, is only fit to ornament a brothel.’

  In bewilderment she stared from him to the frieze and back again. ‘I see nothing but the joy of life in it.’

  ‘Then you must be as innocent as a babe not to realize that it was designed to raise lust in those that study its theme. Had I not known that you have two grown children I would have believed you to be a virgin still.’

  He saw he had embarrassed her with his straight talk as much as if he had torn open the front of her gown. High colour soared into her cheeks and receded again. It made him want to fondle her nakedness and watch the expression on her face struggle between anguished modesty and pleasure.

  ‘I will send maidservants to replace the hangings and everything shall be as you wish,’ she said with dignity. ‘There are a few of my gowns left in the closet and they shall be removed at the same time. After I have put the account books in the library, I shall return to my mother-in-law’s bedside. She and my daughter as well as a cousin of the family and myself all have rooms in the west wing. When you have spoken to the doctor I will conduct you through them myself. In the meantime I should appreciate it if you would leave that part of the house uninspected.’

  ‘I have no objection to that.’

  He watched her leave. The top-knot at the back of her head was encased in a little net of plaited silken threads. It was a frivolous fashion and not to be approved any more than the excess of ribbons that had adorned her daughter’s gown. He recalled that she had mentioned some garments of hers in the closet. He crossed the floor and found the closet in the anteroom. When he opened it he saw three gowns on wicker frames. When he lifted the lid of a chest he saw more. Almost of its own volition his hand reached into the chest and snatched up the top gown. He buried his nose in the soft satin and his nostrils were filled with the sweet fragrance of verbena. It was to him the bouquet of Anne Pallister herself.

  9

  It was owing to Julia that the treasured embroidery was not burned. Upon hearing from Anne what had occurred she instructed the maidservants as to what was to be done. Although they put the frieze and the bed-hangings into linen bags for the bonfire, Julia switched these for others co
ntaining rags, to which she added her sampler for good measure. When Makepeace went to check that his instructions had been carried out the charred remains of the sampler with its glint of silver thread and fancy stitches convinced him that Anne had been prompt in obeying him and the frieze was no more. She went up in his estimation as a result. Obviously she recognized a master’s hand when she saw it. No doubt her late husband had been a man to stand no nonsense, as he was himself, and had taught her early on how obedient and submissive a wife should be.

  He went to see Katherine before the doctor left her apartment, but she was too ill to know he was there. Anne invited him to hear the doctor’s diagnosis and as she had expected it was confirmation of a slight stroke.

  ‘This is not her first,’ the doctor said, taking Anne by surprise. ‘She has suffered several little flutterings of the heart that have caused dizziness and momentary black-outs, but she made me give my word not to tell you until such time as she might be more seriously afflicted.’ His amiable face, set like a rosy cherry within his grey, shoulder-length wig, was unusually grave, not so much for his patient’s condition, for he fully expected the tough old lady to rally to a degree, but because he had been told why this Puritan stranger was at Sotherleigh. ‘This is the worst attack so far and each one has weakened her, but she should pull through with good nursing and a lack of anything to worry her.’

  ‘How long should that take?’ Makepeace enquired cynically.

  ‘I cannot say, Mr Walker, but it would be benevolent of you to allow four weeks at least for her recuperation. Even then I cannot guarantee that she will be fit to move.’

  ‘I thought as much.’ There was a sarcastic edge to Makepeace’s voice.

  The doctor’s face darkened angrily, ‘I do not like your attitude, sir. Although I have the welfare of this family at heart, I would give the same advice had Mistress Katherine been a Parliamentarian in this household that is now yours.’

 

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