'Oh, Benny, thank you, thank you so very much.'
'But I cannot tell you here. Martha will be about her work, and will most likely overhear. Come with me to the garden beyond the cottage, and you can feast yourself on the gooseberries while I tell you.'
With Caroline's help, he raised himself from the stool, and picking up the stick without which he could not walk, he hobbled round the cottage. Caroline picked up the stool and followed him. When they were at the farthest part of the garden, he told her to put down the stool, then he seated himself facing the house, so that he could see anyone approaching. He indicated the gooseberry bushes to Caroline, but she was too excited to eat more than the first she had automatically picked.
Thus it was that she heard about her parents, about the loss of their estates, their wanderings with the army, her own early life with them, and the final tragic days of Naseby where her father had been killed in battle, and her mother had been killed by Cromwell's soldiers afterwards. When he had finished, they remained silent for several minutes. Then Caroline looked up at the old man, and her eyes were shining.
'They both died for King Charles,' she whispered. 'I am so proud of them. I pray for the return of the King – the new King. I wish I could do something to help him.'
'One day he will come,' said Benny with conviction. 'This present state of affairs is not what the ordinary people want. The English have always been a merry race, and have enjoyed their drink and their sports. This solemn Puritan rule cannot last. I beg God to spare me till a happier time returns, with the King, bless him.'
'Thank you, Benny. I am so glad to know. And I will never tell Uncle John you have told me, so he cannot punish you.'
She bent down and swiftly kissed him on the top of his bald head, and was amazed to see tears rolling down his cheeks.
'I loved your father,' he said, 'and your brave and gentle lady mother. I was proud to be in their service. When you were taken in by your uncle, I was afeared they would make you a bigoted Puritan like themselves. I thank God you have not become one. Now you must go home. You have been away long, and they might miss you. First will you help me back to the porch?'
Caroline did so, and as they reached the door of the cottage, Martha appeared, to enquire how Mistress Prudence did.
'Well, thank you, Martha. And you?'
'I was giving the lass a taste of the gooseberries,' Benny interrupted. 'They are a fine crop this year.'
'They were delicious,' said Caroline, who had eaten only a few.
She bade them farewell, and made her way home. There was no one to see her as she climbed back into her room, and she sighed with relief when it was certain she had not been missed.
*
When she was finally commanded to appear downstairs again at the end of the week, it was to find her aunt had already been laid to rest. Her uncle was busy with preparations for a journey to London.
The second Protectorate Parliament had been summoned, and though Uncle John was not a member, he knew many who were, and was influential to some degree.
Caroline was relieved to find him so preoccupied with his preparations he paid scant attention to her, and in a few days had departed. Her first violent grief had subsided, and she was, though still subdued, regaining much of her previous vivacity and spirit. This process was aided considerably by her uncle's departure, and the entire household became more relaxed.
Caroline was still under the charge of Mistress Williams, and still irked by the tediousness of the subjects she was supposed to be studying. But she was learning to be diplomatic instead of rebellious. She had discovered that by a minimum of attentiveness and compliance she could learn enough to delight her governess, and then charm her into allowing extra freedom, which could be enjoyed to the full, without the fear of discovery and punishment that had to a certain extent marred her previous escapades.
This freedom she employed in walking and riding in the lush green meadows and leafy woods of the neighbourhood, or for longer expeditions to the vast open stretches of the Royal Chase near by. Most of the time she dispensed with the company of a servant, and rode or walked alone.
She was well known in the surrounding villages, and had no fear. Occasionally Geoffrey was at home and accompanied her, but most of the time he was in London with his father who had gained important posts under Cromwell's administration.
Geoffrey had become more reconciled to the betrothal, and as he liked Caroline and had been brought to see that marriage was not incompatible with the career of a soldier, he accepted their situation.
At the present time he was full of speculations about several minor risings and plots of both Levellers and Royalists.
The last and most serious rising near Salisbury had been the excuse for the imposition of more severe measures under eleven major-generals who had been given authority over sectors of the country. More taxes had been imposed, but since the war with Spain continued, the revenue was not enough, and this new Parliament had been called to raise more taxes still.
Caroline was impatient of his talk of taxes and war. She was avid for all details of risings against the Protector, who had become exceedingly powerful. At the forefront of her thoughts was the hope that one of these risings would succeed and Charles would be restored to the throne. She heard much talk in the villages around, and knew that many of the countryfolk were weary of the restrictions of the present regime, and would welcome a change which would alleviate some of their annoyances. She did not stress this hope to Geoffrey, since she was unsure of his feelings for the exiled King, but she knew through him that many of Cromwell's erstwhile supporters were growing anxious at the seemingly limitless powers he wielded.
But these visits were few and short, and most of her freedom was spent dreaming of the time when the King might reign again, and England regain something of the gaiety it had lost under the sway of the Puritans. She spent hours with the older villagers who could remember the days before the civil wars, particularly those ancient ones whose memory went back to the halcyon days of Elizabeth. Thus she learned much about the ancient customs which had been forbidden or which had died out. She longed to dance round a maypole, to go to a theatre, but most of all to wear colourful clothes with the frills and ribbons that her uncle considered the tools of the devil.
She also learnt from Benny the full story of her parents' life, all about their early married life on their Cheshire estate, the wanderings with Prince Rupert's army and the King, and their deaths, together as in life.
This pleasant interlude in her life was extended for longer than she had dared hope. Uncle John had not expected to remain in London for more than a month, but when he did return, it was only for a brief period before setting off for another stay in the capital. To Caroline's consternation, he had announced there had been a proposal that the Protector should become king. When she hesitantly asked how that could be – were not kings born to royal families, not made, he replied that kings reigned only with the consent of the people, so why should not the people choose their king? Besides, it was felt by many that Cromwell was too powerful as Protector, and as king would be more under the control of Parliament. Caroline dared not ask what would then be Charles Stuart's position, since the mere mention of that name in his house infuriated her uncle, but she fervently hoped nothing would come of the suggestion, feeling that somehow a vacant throne was more easily repossessed than an occupied one.
For the whole of that summer and winter Caroline saw little of her uncle, who made very brief visits to deal with the most urgent matters of the estate. In May, Geoffrey told her that Cromwell had refused Parliament's offer of the crown, since this was unacceptable to the leaders of the army, on whom he relied to maintain his supremacy. Her anxiety over this was removed, but soon another event caused her much thought.
*
It was exactly a year after Aunt Anne's death that a letter arrived from Uncle John ordering the house be got ready to receive him and his new wife.
He had never mentioned the possibility of marrying again on any of his visits, and the servants were as astonished as Caroline, and thrown into a fluster of preparation, anxious that no fault should be found by a new mistress. Caroline herself was both apprehensive and excited. Perhaps her new aunt would be kind, even young and companionable. She had few friends of her own sex or class, and was beginning to feel the lack of them.
Her anticipation was short, since Uncle John and his bride arrived only three days after the letter. Caroline's first view of her was favourable. She was not very old, about twenty-five, Caroline estimated, and dressed in less severe clothes than Aunt Anne had worn. She greeted everyone affably, and Uncle John seemed a different person. He was most uncharacteristically hovering around to assure himself she was comfortable, and all her needs met.
Caroline was impressed. She even began to hope that with this influence on Uncle John, life in the household would be more pleasant. She was a little startled when Miriam began to mutter obscure threats and warnings. She was prepared to like Aunt Jane, even though she had taken the place of her beloved Aunt Anne.
However, this did not last for long. Aunt Jane soon began to find fault with the arrangements of the house, the shabby furnishings, the plain food, the servants who were respectfully dubious about implementing any changes she ordered.
Caroline first suspected life might become uncomfortable when Aunt Jane proposed a reorganisation of a room Aunt Anne had been fond of sitting in during the evenings.
Aunt Jane had called Mistress Hannah Kenny, the housekeeper, into the room, where Caroline happened to be sitting reading in the window seat, and began to detail the changes she wanted.
'I will have that table removed, Hannah, and those chairs. They are really too shabby to remain in here. With some slight redecoration this could be made into a very pleasant room.'
'The late Mistress Graham was very fond of this room, madam.'
'Indeed? Will you have two of the men remove the furniture? We may as well begin this very day. When it is cleared, I will be able to see better what needs doing.'
'Ought we not to consult Mr Graham first, madam?'
'I do not see that is necessary.'
'He may not wish such alterations to be made without his approval, madam, especially as this room was a particular favourite of his first wife's.'
'Mr Graham has complete confidence in me, Hannah. I have no wish to show disrespect to your late mistress, but I must remind you it is I who give the orders now.'
'Yes, madam, of course. I was only thinking he might not like his first wife's things moved.'
'He will not mind what I do, Hannah, you may rest assured.'
'No, madam.'
'Then send for the men. When they have removed these things, we can see what else needs changing. I may tell you, Hannah, Mr Graham was kind enough to show himself very sensible of the pleasant way I had arranged my father's house in London. He paid me many charming compliments on my taste. He hinted, though he was too mindful of his former wife's memory to do more, that this house was in need of such a hand as mine to make it more beautiful. You may be certain he will approve of anything I do.'
'There's no doubt about that, madam,' replied Hannah, a trifle sharply, as she turned to leave the room. 'I'll call the men, and they will help you move anything you wish.'
Hannah, buxom though she was, almost flounced out of the room, and Caroline, who had been half-hidden behind the curtains as she sat in the window seat, was surprised to see Aunt Jane clench her hands and scowl, unaware she was observed. Caroline at that moment sneezed, and Aunt Jane, startled, came quickly over to the window and pulled the curtain aside.
'What are you doing here?' she demanded.
'I was reading,' replied Caroline, showing her book. 'I often do in here. Aunt Anne was so fond of this room, and we often sat here.'
'Aunt Anne! Aunt Anne! She is everywhere in this house! She is still here, in spirit, watching everything I do! I wish, oh how I wish – ' Suddenly realising who it was she was talking to, she stopped abruptly. 'You were hiding, to overhear what I was saying!' she accused.
'I was not hiding, Aunt Jane!' replied Caroline, her temper rising at the unjust accusation. 'My legs were visible beyond the curtain, and anyone could have seen them.'
'I do not expect to have to search rooms before I can hold a conversation in them. You should have made yourself known to me when I entered the room.'
'I am sorry, Aunt Jane, but I did not hear you come in. I was reading, and did not know anyone else was in the room until you began talking. And even then, I do not see how I could have drawn attention to myself without interrupting you, and I have been taught that is impolite!'
'You are impertinent, child! Leave this room at once. Your uncle shall hear of your behaviour. I fear he is right, and you have been badly brought up.'
Holding her head high, Caroline escaped, to ponder the meaning of the exchange she had overheard between the housekeeper and her aunt. It had been obvious from Hannah's manner she disapproved of the new arrangements, and Caroline too was disturbed. Did Aunt Jane intend to alter the whole house, and remove all the things Aunt Anne had loved?
*
In the following weeks it became increasingly obvious Aunt Jane was determined to change the house as much as she possibly could without actually tearing down the walls. Uncle John, who had previously been very careful with his money, and resented spending it unnecessarily, now acceded to her every request without a murmur, and new furnishings and hangings, pictures and all kinds of other items were arriving from London with almost every carrier.
The servants were worried, especially the older ones who had been devoted to Aunt Anne, but they did not dare to show any disapproval. Hannah Kenny, who had been too outspoken when Aunt Jane had disparaged some tapestry work of Aunt Anne's, had been turned off immediately, and no one else wanted that fate. But they whispered amongst themselves, and Caroline occasionally heard these whispers, since the servants knew she too resented the changes.
The most startling change of all, though, was in Uncle John. He could see no fault in Aunt Jane, even though Caroline suspected her piety during the never-ending prayers and sermons was assumed. She had to have all she wanted, her every whim be obeyed, and anyone who dared oppose her in the slightest thing quickly felt the full force of his eloquent disapproval.
Soon the servants were making sly comments, which Caroline at first did not understand, but they became clearer to her when her uncle informed her one day that Aunt Jane was to present him with a child in the summer. Caroline was at first generously pleased, knowing how much he had longed for a child. Her pleasure was a trifle dimmed when her uncle began to pray incessantly for his future son and heir, and to thank the Lord that he would at last have an heir of his own body to whom his wealth could safely be entrusted. It was not that Caroline, who cared little for rich possessions and money, resented losing her position as his heiress, but she could not help feeling aggrieved at his so obvious relief that she would not inherit from him. Miriam, who was usually free with her comments to Caroline, muttered there would be precious little left to leave to the heir at the rate Mistress Graham was getting through the fortune.
'But you'll be all right, my dear. You've got your future settled, thanks be to God. Geoffrey will look after you, heiress or no.'
Caroline smiled. She was too young to care deeply about such matters as money.
She liked Geoffrey, had for years been used to the idea they would one day marry, and had scarcely given a thought to other possibilities, they seemed so remote.
*
Chapter 3
Aunt Jane was brought to bed in May, and easily bore a lusty son. Caroline was enchanted with him, but was not allowed to croon over him as she wished.
'I do not care to have a disinherited, evil-tempered girl such as you near our son. In your jealousy, who knows what harm you might do him?' Aunt Jane had told her.
Caroline, horrified an
d resentful at the cruel insinuation, began to long for the time when she could leave this detested house, having known so little love in it.
She tried to ask her uncle when her marriage to Geoffrey could take place, as she was almost sixteen, but Uncle John, worried by Cromwell's action in dissolving the last Parliament in January, the growing debts of the Protector, and the probable need to call another, almost certainly hostile, Parliament, merely told her to be patient.
She waited, impatiently, for Geoffrey's return, but on the day he was expected, her aunt called her into the house just as she was about to set off for a ride. With a spiteful smile, Aunt Jane began to talk of her changed circumstances, and eventually disclosed that Geoffrey had asked to be released from the betrothal, and Uncle John having been forced to agree, he was about to marry another local heiress, Miss Somers.
Dismayed, Caroline stared at her aunt. Then, running from the room, she fetched her mare and rode impetuously to Geoffrey's house. She met him as she was taking a short cut across a field, and halted her mare while he rode slowly up to her.
One look at his ashamed face was enough to confirm her aunt's tidings.
'It's true, then!' she whispered.
'Prudence – I – I did not wish it – I was constrained – the family has lost a great deal serving the cause of the Protector, indeed I would not – '
'You are a man, you purport to be a soldier – hardly to be constrained against your will!' she flung at him scornfully. 'I believe I am well rid of such a poltroon!'
Blinded by tears, not for Geoffrey, but for her lost hopes of escaping her unhappy life, she turned and set the mare at the nearest hedge, which separated the field from the ancient Royal Chase, and was able to gallop away in fury until both she and the mare were weary.
Eventually Caroline stopped and dismounted, letting the mare crop the lush summer grass while she lay musing on her situation. Late in the afternoon she set off for home, lost in thought and only dimly aware of her surroundings.
Cavalier Courtship Page 4
