by Leah Fleming
‘It’s my gift to you,’ I whispered. ‘I thought them rightfully yours. They’ve been kept secure as fresh as the day they were made. I hope you like them.’
‘What the blazes do you mean by this?’ he shouted, bringing Aunt Kitty to his side.
‘They’re wedding gloves, Elliot, beautiful ones. Where did you come by these, child?’ She was looking at me for a second with suspicion, fingering them with envy.
‘Don’t touch them!’ The Master snatched them back. ‘Those were Millie’s gloves, given as a gift on our wedding day. What the devil is this girl doing with her gloves?’ he snapped looking up with fury, his hand shaking them in my face.
‘The Mistress, my grandmother, sent them to my father for his bride on her wedding day as a token of reconciliation. I told you of them in the Courthouse.’ I stuttered.
‘She did what?’ His curiosity was fired up now and everyone in the room stood like statues to watch the drama unfolding.
‘I was told they were a gift, a token of her forgiving my parents’ marriage,’ I repeated loudly as if to a deaf man.
‘And you have the affrontery to shove them in my face, young lady?’ he exploded.
‘Remember, sir I brought them to prove that I was indeed your kin.’ I answered, trembling to see his fists crushing the gloves in anger and grief.
‘And she did this behind my back . . . without my consent? How dare the baggage disobey my command! Our son was dead to us the moment he denied his calling,’ he looked up at his audience, seeking for sympathy. ‘Who can find an honest woman?’
‘Now then, Uncle Elliot, don’t take on, ’tis but a misunderstanding. The girl meant no harm,’ said Royston coming to my rescue, seeing the agitation on the Master’s face.
‘I don’t care what the minx meant. I am greatly offended: coming into my house at my expense, taking my charitable hospitality and then throwing these in my face. You chose ill to show me them,’ he shouted, his spittle spraying into my face. He turned away in disgust, staring into the fire.
‘If it eases your mind,’ I offered, shaking my head, ‘my parents never received them.’ I hoped to give him consolation but the gesture was in vain. ‘They were in prison in York Gaol by the time they arrived.’
‘I know where they went,’ he said dismissively..
‘Perhaps she just wanted to be reunited with them. I gather she was ill and not long for this life. It was perhaps her way . . .’ I pleaded. ‘They, too, were not long in following her to the grave. There was no time to show them and my Aunt Margery Windebank put them away for safe keeping as proof.’
‘Proof of what? How do I know you have not stolen them? This is some trick to make me soften towards your cause or disobey my stern command to withhold blessing on my errant son. I have no wish to be reminded of that time. Take them out of my sight!’
‘I only thought to please you, sir,’ I cried.
‘Well you thought wrong. I am much displeased that you should taunt me with them,’ he snapped and shook the gloves in the air. ‘Keep them, they are nothing to me and you are nothing to me now. Trying to weaken my resolve, indeed.’
I was sobbing now. I did not care who saw my tears. ‘But they were given in love and gratitude. I did not mean to harm you,’ I pleaded.
‘They were given in weakness. I want nothing more of them or you, you ungrateful puppy.’
For a second I thought he was going to fling them into the flames and I reached forward to snatch them before they fell into the ashes. I knelt on the floor and clutched them to my chest in panic.
‘As God is my witness I meant no offence,’ I whispered.
‘And this is the wench I thought we could train up from her humble station to be amongst us as an heir. In time she would wed Thomas, over there, to keep the name growing in the district; a comfort to me in old age so that this house would be full of young Moorsides. But what do I get in return? Impudence, betrayal and ingratitude from a girl who knows not her place!’
I could hardly breathe with the shame and injustice of his words and the knowledge that I had almost sworn an oath that was forbidden amongst the Seekers.
‘Enough now, Uncle Elliot, words have been spoken that can’t be undone here. I’m sure the girl meant no harm, just misguided in her innocence. We have to forgive her lowly station. How was she to know your feelings?’ said Royston, edging me away from the hearth. ‘Come, don’t take on, lass. Let him stew awhile in his own juice. It’s the sack talking. His wits are befuddled. Let him sleep off his choleric humour.’
It was as if from the far corners of the room, from the dark recesses and the flickering dimness of the gathering gloom of a December afternoon, a blackness engulfed me, voices receded and an icy blast of past grief and hurt was flooding over me so I could hardly hobble out of his presence, blinded by tears.
What had been given in love had been thrown back in my face. What I assumed would give comfort had only given distress; the burden of my mistake left me helpless under its weight. I stumbled and fell but Thomas rushed to my side and gave me his arm to lean on.
‘Don’t worry, he will come to when he is sober,’ he whispered.
There were no words I could utter now to make everything joyous again. ‘Let me be, I’ll manage,’ I said, shaking my arm away from him. I wanted nothing more to do with any of them.
‘You’re in no fit state to be going upstairs,’ he insisted but his kindness only irritated me further. ‘I can walk unaided,’ I snapped, wanting at least some semblance of dignity. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Please call me Tom, cousin,’ he offered with a smile.
‘Thank you, Thomas, but it appears I am no relative of this house. Our Master has made that plain enough. Please let me be.’
The steps up to my chamber were like climbing the highest peak of Penyghent into a stiff wind. Oh to be free to climb the fells and shout into the wind and blow all this anger and hurt away! Never had I felt so alone or so desolate. How could something seem so right yet come out so wrong? How could I stay in a place where I was no longer welcome?
I had not chosen to come here of my free will. What was to stop me heading out northwards back from whence I came without hindrance? What was all that about marriage to Thomas? Was it the wild fancies of his fevered brain or had that been his plan in his bringing me under his roof to serve his own purposes?
I could no more contemplate wedding that lump of lard, kindly as he was. Was I some pawn piece in the Master’s game, to be shoved hither and thither at his will? If he could reject my gloves so easily then surely I was free now to walk my own way? If only it were easy for a girl to choose her own path in life.
I knew enough of life to see that Mallory would have choices that Diligence would never be offered; parents must have their say in whom their daughters wed. Seekers must wait on the Lord’s will to guide them to a suitable helpmeet. We did not marry worldly men, but one amongst our own meeting. A couple must be vetted for sincerity and convincement. To marry out of the meeting was to be shunned and banished from their fellowship. I was not ready to marry anyone, not even a Moorside relative, not without that spark of recognition that my parents discovered in each other.
I sat in the dusk with no candle lit, enveloped in my dark thoughts, half listening to the thud of feet in the hall and a fiddle playing tunes, laughter and merriment. I held the golden gloves for comfort for there was love and forgiveness and understanding stitched into them. The soothing scent of lavender tinged my senses with hope. I would never be parted from them again. They were my gloves now.
That night I dreamt a strange dream. I was standing by a broad blue river, the like of which I had never seen in this district. It stretched for miles and miles in both directions. There was a green field and wooden house made of boards and huge trees with broad leaves. I was standing with other company whose faces were misted over with a veil of cloud but we were at ease with one another and I was wearing the golden gauntlets. Then I unpeeled them and gave
them to a girl with dark braids but her face was unclear as we embraced and I put them in her hand.
She took them with a cry and hugged me as I stepped on the water. It carried me far from that shore, I think. I woke with wet cheeks, strangely comforted, smiling, wishing I could return into that fair country.
Were they now mine to give as I pleased? Millicent Moorside had meant those gloves for her son and his heirs. They would not be offered to Master Elliot ever again and the matter would lie heavy between us. We would never speak of it.
His spirit was mean and racked with guilt about my father’s death. He was too old to change his ways. Now he was trying to trap me into doing his will, as he had forced my father to make his choice.
Perhaps my future lay not in Scarperton Hall nor in Windebank but somewhere by that big river far away. How I would find such a river was beyond my understanding.
Next morning I was wakened by Aunt Kitty, peering down at me. She had come to my chamber early. Her face was pinched and her brows knitted into a furrow.
‘So you slept, then? Thomas was quite concerned for you. I told him girls of your age can sleep the clock round if left to their own devices. I just wanted to make plain that Uncle Elliot was talking out of his boots last evening. I hope you understand that he’s an old man disappointed by grief and misfortune. He will mellow given time, when the drink is off him.’
I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, wondering why she looked so agitated. ‘I think I understand better than I did before why he brought me here,’ I said.
‘And that’s another thing, forget all that nonsense about marrying your cousin. Whatever silly notions he has put in your head on that score, they are out of the question. Thomas is spoken for, an arrangement made years ago with the Bellamys of Brimingthorpe Hall. As if we would condone an old man’s fancy of marrying two cousins, indeed! You are hardly a suitable bride for a gentleman: a hill farmer’s dairymaid. It is unthinkable he should make such presumptions.
‘I have a half mind to remove us all from this hall immediately so no further contact can be made. I’m sorry if he has given you a false hope, my dear. Men are so hopeless at these matters. You do understand?’ she said, standing back as I sat up.
‘Oh yes, I understand,’ I smiled, trying not to show my relief.
‘So you see, I think it better all round if you keep out of Elliot’s sight for a few days. I’ve arranged for you to dine with Dame Priscilla at a different time. The children can join you for games but not Thomas. It’s better for his sake to keep you apart, for I fear he has taken a strong fancy to you and that must go no further.
‘The Mummers are coming tonight to give their play and we must all be present, so if you could keep with the servants and help Dame Priscilla, I think that would do the trick. I hope my words don’t spoil your Yule . . .’ she paused, eyeing me carefully.
‘It’s not that you aren’t presentable, but there is still the whiff of the farmyard about your manners and accent. There’s been enough misunderstandings already. If you want me to take the gloves I can try him again at some other time,’ she offered, seeing them on my pillow. ‘They are very beautiful.’
‘No, thank you,’ I was quick to reply. ‘They don’t belong here now.’
She looked at me again. ‘But they belong in this family.’
‘Yes, they’ll stay in my family to be passed on as I see fit,’ I said.
‘I see,’ she snapped, not seeing at all.
‘And fret not about my welfare, Aunt. Yule is not important to me. What I have learned here is how easily our good intentions can be misconstrued, however well meant. The Master owes me an apology, but I do not seek one. He is proud and stubborn, just as I am and in that we are kin indeed. I think my father must have been the same. Did you ever meet him?’ I asked, hoping for some comfort from her recollections.
‘I do remember one meeting but I was very new to the family. He was a great scholar but I recall him jumping a gate like no other rider as if he was flying through the air. He had a good pair of feet at the dancing and he was as handsome as he was wise. No wonder his father has never gotten over the loss of his company,’ she sighed, and made for the door.
‘That’s why I will do everything in my power to see that dear Thomas makes the right choice in harmony with our own desires. No one understood why Matthew gave up all his advantages to join a bunch of penniless preachers. I don’t think Aunt Millicent ever recovered, but she must be obedient to her husband in this matter, irksome as it was and still is. Are you sure I can’t take those gloves for you?’
‘No, thank you,’ I insisted. ‘I had a dream last night that Grandmother came to comfort me. She wants me to hold them for her,’ I smiled.
‘You’re a strange girl, Joy. Thomas is a noble young fellow and not at all suited to your temperament. I hope you’re not too disappointed at this news.’ She made to pat my hand but I withdrew it quickly.
‘Not at all, Aunt, for I’m far too young to be considered for such an elevated position, I’m sure. I must wait on the Lord’s will for my intended. He will appoint my husband in the fullness of time.’
‘No more of this priggish Quaker talk.’ Aunt Kitty raised her hand with alarm. ‘I have heard how the women have a forward manner in decision-making and count themselves equals with their men . . .’
‘Before God, all are equal in His sight, high and low, bond and free, male and female. My parents died for that truth. I will not betray them in plighting my troth with an unbeliever, however elevated his position,’ I replied, not caring how it sounded.
‘So you think my son is not worthy of your hand?’ My aunt looked shocked.
‘That decision is in the hands of the Lord. “Be ye not yoked to unbelievers”, the Bible reads. I’ll not marry to please my grandfather’s will or to assuage his guilt and loss of heirs. I came here with nothing and I will go with nothing. If he wants his name to live on it will live on in your offspring well enough. He will have to be content with that honour. Everything has its price, I’m thinking. He wants things to be as they were but that can never be so and he knows it in his heart.’
‘You are very certain in your judgements, young lady, and as harsh as he is. I’d watch your step,’ she said, wagging her finger in my direction. ‘There’s many a lesson to learn in life before anyone can be so sure . . . You’re two of a stubborn kind. Elliot’s met his match in you and no mistake. But don’t be so above yourself in these matters. Youth has little wisdom. I can quote too and in my book, “Pride cometh before a fall”. I bid you good morning.’ She slammed the door, unused to being thwarted. Good riddance, I thought with all the arrogance my youth could muster.
I was in no mood for the St Stephen’s day Mummerings and antics but I would not be hidden away just to please the Master’s sensitivities. I brushed out my hair and left the back to fall to my waist, I dressed with care and pinched my cheeks. I threw off the splints for I had no need of them now and made my way down to join the revels, hovering in the candlelight, uncertain what was going on. I had never seen theatricals before and was a little afraid.
Yule has its own fragrance of spices and ale, the scents of the garlands of leaves, the smoke from the great block of wood in the hearth, roasting meats and tobacco pipes, the freshly strewed rushes on the floor.
Through the door tumbled a rush of dancing men with blackened faces and strange robes, tattered like the feathers of an old crow. ‘We bid thee greetings. It is our delight to dance and sing and tell an ancient tale.’ They waved to everyone, being but local men dressed in disguise. Everyone was laughing and cheering as they swirled around in their black rags, banging drums and frightening the children.
They say that people in these parts have danced these jigs since before Christ walked upon this earth, when darkness reigned over us all. I was greatly afeared by the look of them, stepping back from the noise only to tread hard on the foot of Miles Foxup standing close behind me.
‘Hey up, little Miss Qua
ker! This is no place for a Puritan maid,’ he teased. ‘Not so Puritan, I see by the toss of those golden locks and the colour of your low cut gown. What have we here but a pretty peach ripe for the plucking.’
I ignored him but the heat rose to my cheeks and my heart beat a little faster. How dare he make such suggestions! What Bess had said was true enough, then. No gentleman in the making would talk to me like that. Yet a part of me was flattered that my change of dress and hair was noticed, that the blue shimmered in the candlelight.
His mother was staring from her perch by the door. I made to walk away with head held high whilst Mary and Bess with their gaggle of girls skittered across the room to drag him under the kissing ring. He was their willing prisoner and kissed them all in turn to much cheering and guffawing which I thought demeaning. I turned from the scene to find Thomas hovering in the shadows, beckoning me to his side.
‘Will you be my partner for the dancing?’ he smiled, his cheeks pink with hope and eagerness.
‘Thank you, no,’ I replied. ‘Your mother would be displeased and I have caused enough offence. I don’t think my ankle is up to the strain,’ I lied, not wanting to hurt his feelings. The thought of his big feet crushing my toes made me wince. ‘I will sit with you awhile,’ I said, smiling sweetly, knowing how that would aggravate Aunt Kitty.
There was a bit of me feeling mean and mischievous tonight. Perhaps this festive season did make you forget sorrows and disappointments for a few hours. No harm could come of that, surely?
We sat together watching the Mummer’s play unfolding before us; how the dragon was slain by good Saint George; the antics of the doctor and the Turkey man, the battles and sword fights, the cheers when it was all over. Even grandfather was enjoying the spectacle from his throne by the fire. I did not dare venture into his presence, wanting no repeat of yesterday’s humiliation.
The servants feasted from the big table in the kitchen hall, slices of cold pie and meats, trenchers of bread, fruit and curd and raisin tarts, a great dish of frumenty and bowl of wassail punch which warmed my throat and loosened my limbs so the ache in my leg no longer throbbed and the ache in my heart was forgotten.
