by Evie Grace
‘I don’t know where he is,’ George said, shaking his head. ‘He went out last night – I assoomed he was on his way to sit up with Catherine. He didn’t come home, but I reckoned he was …’ He stuttered. ‘Well, you know what young sweethearts get up to.’
‘Not our young lady,’ Pa said sternly.
‘No, of course not. My mistake, Tom. I didn’t mean to—’
‘It’s all right. No offence taken. Now, Matty isn’t a shirker, so what has happened to him? Could he have gone to the cottage? Has he met with some kind of an accident?’
Catherine winced at the thought.
‘I’ve bin to the cottage to look and there’s no sign of him there,’ George said. ‘Have you seen him, John?’
John shrugged.
‘When did you last see him, son?’ Pa asked.
‘I can’t rightly recall.’ John swore. ‘I wish I could remember.’ Anguished, he started to beat his forehead with his fist as though he might be able to force a memory to appear.
‘Steady there.’ Pa took John’s arm. ‘Don’t hurt yourself. Who is watching the sheep now?’
‘I don’t know,’ John said.
‘It would have been better if you’d stayed with the flock and sent one of the boys who’s bird-scaring to deliver a message. George, you go and watch the sheep. John, come indoors and have something to eat. I expect Ma has a cold meat pie.’
‘And boiled eggs? And cake, I hope,’ John said cheerfully.
Pa guided him towards the house and Catherine accompanied them.
‘Do you know where Matty is?’ Pa asked.
‘No,’ Catherine said, feeling somehow inadequate for not knowing. ‘Why should I? I’m not his keeper.’
‘Not yet,’ Pa said. ‘When you’re a married woman, you’ll keep him close.’
‘I’m sure there’s a good explanation.’
‘Is he in some kind of trouble? Is he having second thoughts about the wedding? He wouldn’t be the first. Oh, don’t fret. I was a young man once, although it’s hard to believe. But that’s no excuse for leaving the sheep unattended. John relies on him.’ Pa’s eyes flashed with irritation. ‘Soon, he’ll be family, but I’m telling you, if he neglects his duties again’ – his voice faltered – ‘well, I don’t know what I’ll do. It’s in your interest to make sure he doesn’t disappear again.’
‘I really don’t know where he is.’ Catherine’s forehead tightened. ‘Why do you keep asking me like this?’
‘There are rumours going about. Some of the men around here have been getting themselves caught up with that Courtenay fellow over at Fairbrook.’ Pa gazed at her, his eyes narrowed in question. ‘My opinion of him has altered recently.’
‘Matty would have told me if—’
‘That’s all right then,’ Pa cut in. ‘I believe you.’ He turned back to John. ‘Let’s go inside.’
Catherine tried to slip out once she had finished cleaning the floors, but Ma caught her and forbade her to go anywhere until after supper. It felt like an age before she was free to leave the house. The past few evenings, she’d been patchworking to make a quilt for the bed in the cottage, but tonight it would have to wait. She threw on her cloak to hide her face and walked briskly towards the beerhouse.
She looked inside the door into a small room. It was dark apart from a pair of flickering candles that were spewing pungent black swirls of smoke into the atmosphere. Mrs Clackworthy was sitting on her seat at the serving area, beneath a row of pots hanging from hooks. She was talking to her customers; three fellows dressed in smocks and drinking beer at a table.
Catherine hesitated at the open door, catching snippets of their conversation.
‘Squire Temple is in cahoots with the vicar. He won’t provide beer no more for his men that do an honest day’s labour on the farm. What do you think to that?’
‘I reckon we’ll have to move on come Michaelmas, for to work without beer is certain death.’
‘Come in and sup with us, young lady,’ one of the men said with a leer.
‘No, thank you,’ she said. ‘Have you seen any sign of Matty? He’s one of the Carter lads.’
‘He’s your sweetheart, isn’t he?’ said another, with white hair, side-beards and a bulbous red nose.
‘Gone missing, eh?’
‘Stop with us, dearie. We’ll take care of you.’
‘Don’t listen to these wastrels,’ Mrs Clackworthy cut in. ‘I haven’t seen hide nor hair of Matty Carter. I thought he was doing the shepherding for your brother?’
‘Oh, he is. They work together on the farm.’
‘So it isn’t a case of the shepherd losing his sheep. It’s more like the sheep losing their shepherd.’ One of the men slammed his pot down and roared with laughter. The others joined in.
‘Don’t let them distress you, ducks. I’m sure there’s a good explanation for your betrothed going missing. You’re about to be married, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, very soon.’
‘He’ll be sowing his wild oats afore coming back to settle down,’ one of the men said.
‘That’s enow, Samuel, or I’ll turf you out on the street.’ Mrs Clackworthy turned to Catherine. ‘Have you tried the White Horse in Boughton? It isn’t far away.’
‘No, but thank you.’
‘He might be at the Red Lion,’ Mrs Clackworthy added. ‘You’ve heard of Sir William, haven’t you? Everyone’s talking about him. There’s many, men and women alike, who’ve gone to hear him speak as he travels around this parish and others.’
‘I’ve seen him when he was staying with Mr Francis at Fairbrook,’ said Samuel. ‘He makes out that he’s a gentleman but he’s a fraud.’
‘I’d heard he’s the genuine article,’ said one of the other men. ‘He’s heir to the Earl of Devon, would you believe?’
‘He speaks a load of nonsense, but if that keeps the poor wretches happy, who am I to argue? He’s harmless enow.’
‘I should welcome him here with open arms and a cask of strong beer,’ said Mrs Clackworthy. ‘I’d rather he spent his shillings here than anywhere else.’
Catherine turned and fled. It was too late to be tramping around the countryside alone. Matty could be anywhere. She returned to the farm, but she couldn’t concentrate on her sewing so she retired to bed.
Much later, the chinking of stones flying up against the window disturbed her. She slid out of bed, pulled her shawl over her shoulders and looked outside to see a familiar shadow moving across the grass towards the house. She slid the sash open.
‘Psst,’ Matty hissed. ‘Is the coast clear?’
‘No, don’t come up.’ Usually, he would come indoors and they would sit up together after Ma and Pa had retired discreetly to bed, but today was different. If Pa found out he was here, he would confront him over abandoning John and the flock. ‘Meet me in the orchard.’ She heard a floorboard creak somewhere in the house. She waved him away and closed the window, lowering it carefully so that it didn’t make a sound. She put her clothes over her gown and tiptoed down the stairs, across the hall to the back door beyond the kitchen, where she put on her boots and slid the bolt open.
She held her breath, listening, but no one stirred so she slipped outside into the fresh air and walked briskly to the orchard where she kept to the lee of the hedge.
Matty stepped out from beneath one of the apple trees.
‘Where have you been?’ Catherine’s heart leapt at the sight of his smile. She threw her arms around his neck. He pulled her close and spun her around, and it felt like they were dancing again in the meadows after the harvest.
‘I’ve missed you,’ he said gruffly, kissing her and burying his face against her neck.
‘I’ve been worried sick.’
‘I’m sorry.’ He grasped her hands and took a small step back.
‘And so you should be. You were supposed to be watching the sheep with John. Pa is furious.’
‘Don’t go on, Catherine. I’m not your henpecked hu
sband yet.’
‘I shan’t be a nagging wife,’ she said, feeling sore at his comment.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say the wrong thing.’ He smiled again. ‘We will always be kind to each other.’
‘It wasn’t very kind of you not to let me know where you were.’
‘I got distracted.’ His eyes flashed in the moonlight. She could hear the excitement in his voice. ‘I went to hear Sir William speak.’
‘Why? What has he got to do with you?’
‘I wanted to hear what he had to say. He’s a wonderful man, good and true. It’s a marvel to me that someone like him, born into riches beyond belief, is concerned with the plight of the wretched labourers.’
‘What about our future, though?’ Catherine said stubbornly. She didn’t like seeing Matty’s revolutionary side come out. It made her uncomfortable. ‘What about looking after your own? We have rent to pay now.’
‘Don’t fret, my love. Whatever happens, we’ll be all right. Sir William toasts good health to the poor and promises to fill everybody’s bellies with victuals. He is Christ come down from the cross.’
‘How can that be?’ Catherine said, her tone scathing. She didn’t want Matty to get carried away as she could imagine Jervis would over a man like Sir William. But here he was talking about Christ.
Matty grasped her by the shoulders, looked her in the eyes and said earnestly, ‘He has shown me the nail marks on his hands. You see, there’s nothing you can say against that. He styles his beard and hair in the image of Christ. What’s more, he can hear everything anyone says from a mile around.’ He delivered his final proof of Sir William’s immortality. ‘Last night, I saw him take out his pistol and shoot at the stars. They broke up and sparkled in the sky. I wish you could have seen it.’
Catherine wished she could have seen it too, to banish the doubt she felt at Matty’s words. She wanted to believe him.
‘Sir William is calling for people to follow him, to gather an army to rise up against the rich.’
‘You aren’t planning to join him?’
‘I would see the wealth of the county shared equally.’
‘But not all men are equal.’
‘I don’t see why they shouldn’t be, though. Why should the squire have two hundred acres of land while my father struggles to survive on his wages?’
‘At least your pa has money.’ It was thanks to her father, who continued to employ George Carter even though he was too old and decrepit to do much more than gather wood and feed the pigs. There had always been this idealistic side to Matty, but Catherine had never seen it so alive before. She feared what it would mean for her and the future of her family. ‘Matty, I’m scared.’
‘Scared? Why?’
‘I’m afraid that you’re going against my father.’
‘I look up to your father like my own. He’s been good to the Carters, but I want to help the cause for all my brothers, not just those of my blood. Don’t worry, my love.’
‘You can’t tell me not to fret and expect that to be the end of it. I don’t want you getting hurt.’
‘I won’t get involved in any fighting – Sir William is a peaceable man who will achieve his aims through words, not blows.’
‘Don’t risk everything for some madman’s promises.’
‘You must come and hear him speak. That way you can make up your own mind.’
‘I will do, if I can get away from the farm.’ She stared at him.
‘Oh, don’t look at me like that. I won’t let your pa down again. I promise I’ll turn up on time in future.’ He touched her cheek. ‘There’s no reason for me to skip a day’s work again.’
She softened a little. ‘We shouldn’t argue.’
‘We’ll be married soon, then we’ll argue every day and enjoy making up afterwards.’ Catherine smiled and Matty continued, ‘I’ll never let you down. I promise I’ll be the best husband anyone could have.’
She kissed him full on the lips.
‘Let’s go to the cottage for a while,’ he suggested. ‘We can be alone there.’
Catherine bit her lip. She was sorely tempted.
‘There’d be no harm in it,’ Matty said.
She couldn’t see the harm either, even though they hadn’t set the date quite yet.
‘I’ll walk you back – no one will know you’ve been away.’ His voice caught in his throat.
Catherine glanced down at the ring on her finger, their locks of hair intertwined. She wanted him. She needed to be close to him. They were meant for each other. Why should they wait any longer?
‘No, you’re right,’ he began again. ‘We shouldn’t—’
‘Let’s go,’ she interrupted, casting any remaining doubt aside. If she should by any mischance end up with child before their wedding day, it would be too early for it to show.
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m sure. Our home is ready. There’s nothing stopping us getting married.’
‘We will walk down the aisle after the last of the lambs has been born,’ he said. ‘I promise.’
He took her hand and they made their way to the cottage.
The March winds turned to April showers and then May rolled in, bringing longer days and bright sunshine. As the lambs gambolled in the meadow, Catherine found herself afflicted by sickness that began from the moment she woke up until she fell into bed exhausted at night. At first, she dismissed it as nothing, but eventually she had to face facts. She was in a dreadful pickle.
Matty called at the farm one evening when day began to turn to dusk. She let him in to the kitchen.
‘I thought we’d go out for a walk,’ he said, placing a daisy chain around her neck. ‘I made this for you.’
She caught the soft stems between her fingers and leaned forward to receive his kiss.
‘Where do you think you’re off to?’ Ma said, entering the room.
‘Out,’ Catherine said.
‘You’ll get yourself into trouble – if you haven’t already. Matty, make sure you have her home by midnight.’
‘Yes, Mrs Rook,’ he said. ‘She’s a tyrant,’ he added as they left the house. ‘It’s no wonder you can’t wait to move out.’
‘How about you?’ Catherine asked.
‘It will be hard leaving the littl’uns, even though the youngest is eight years old and well able to look after herself with a little help. I feel as though I’ve done my fair share of caring for everyone at Toad’s Bottom.’ He slipped his arm around her waist as they strolled out into the orchard. ‘It’s time that I looked after you.’
She glanced up at the sky where pinpricks of starlight began to pierce the navy sky.
‘And our child,’ she went on gently. She stopped and placed his hand on her belly.
‘That’s …’ he paused. ‘Are you sure?’
She nodded.
‘That’s a wonder,’ he said, his eyes soft and dark with awe.
‘It takes only one time,’ she ventured.
He grinned. ‘I know, but well, I didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Does anyone else know?’
‘You’re the first, but I reckon Ma has her suspicions. I’ve been terribly sick of a morning.’
‘Is there anything I can do? How can I help?’
‘Just hold me in your arms and never let me go.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘No, we must set the date for the wedding so we can be married before I start to show.’
‘Of course. How about around Oak Apple Day?’
That was less than a month away, she thought.
‘I’ll speak to the vicar.’
‘I’ll get Pa to have a word. You aren’t the Reverend Browning’s favourite person. You’ve hardly been to church since he got rid of the choir.’
‘Why should I go? I can pray to God just as easily when I’m out digging Ma’s garden, or—’
‘Tickling trout and picking up firewood where you shouldn’t be.’
‘You’re making me out to be a scoundrel,’ he ch
uckled. ‘I admit I can be enterprising. I have to be. I miss the wages in kind that I had from the vestry.’
‘So I will speak to Pa?’
‘Yes.’ He smiled again. ‘I can’t wait to be a family – you, me and the littl’un.’
Within a week, her father arranged for the vicar to read the banns.
When he was reading them for the third time, Catherine stood side by side with Matty in the pew. George Carter was absent and the younger Carters were at the back of the church with Jane Browning, having attended her Sunday school. The gallery remained empty, the choir’s music a distant memory.
At the end of the service, Jane came over to congratulate Catherine on her good fortune.
‘It’s lamentable that we’ll never be able to call each other sister, but you wouldn’t have found happiness with Hector, as your mother wished. He is a cold fish.’
‘It is a pity,’ Catherine murmured, unsure what to say. Jane was exaggerating – she wouldn’t find it ernful not to be able to call her sister.
‘He’s to be married to Squire Temple’s youngest daughter. It will be a long engagement, so she’ll have the chance to experience some joy before they settle down together in the miserable state of matrimony.’
‘Jane, how can you say such a thing?’ Catherine exclaimed.
‘Because it’s true. When I see the sorrow that marriage has wrought on my sisters in the parish, I despair. You are the chattel of your husband, all your worldly possessions will belong to him and he can dispose of them as he wishes.’
‘I have very little in the first place, and it doesn’t matter because I’m marrying for love.’
Jane smiled. There was a bitterness behind her eyes, Catherine thought.
‘Good day, Miss Browning.’ She hastened along the street to catch up with Matty, who was loitering outside one of the cottages, waiting for her. She slipped her arm through his.
‘Shall we spend the rest of the afternoon together?’
‘I’ll call for you a little later,’ he said.
He met her at the farm at about three, and they strolled through the fields and orchards and into the valley where the stream had dried out to a mere trickle. She took off her shoes and paddled in a shallow pool that had collected in a dip in the ground, letting the water cool her toes before Matty helped her up the slope of a grassy bank where they sat side by side. Catherine leaned against him and rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
