Stolen Encounters with the Duchess

by Julia Justiss

  ‘We share?’ one of them shouted. ‘We seen you with the Duchess!’

  ‘Aye, you’re just one of their lackeys!’ cried another. ‘A pet canary, singing for them in the Lords!’

  ‘We aim to show ’em we won’t put up with them tunes no more!’

  ‘Why don’t we pull him off his perch?’ the first man shouted.

  As several of the men moved forward, Davie braced himself, ready to play Big John to their Robin Hood at the river. But to his surprise, Banks put up his hands, warding them off.

  ‘What, you turned traitor?’ the first man snarled. ‘And you tole us you was jest goin’ to check on your old granny.’

  ‘I did! But I don’t hold with threatening women and boys. Besides, the Duchess was taking care of my sick gran.’

  ‘It’s not the Duchess or her children with whom you have a quarrel,’ Davie said. ‘You want your outrage to be heard, but continue in this way, and all you’ll hear is the snap of the rope at the end of a hangman’s noose. You’re local men, aren’t you?’

  ‘Aye, most of ’em,’ Dickon said.

  ‘Which means you could be identified, arrested, tried, and hanged or transported. That will not aid your cause, nor keep your families clothed and fed, until we pass the legislation we all want.’

  ‘What would the likes of you know about it?’ one of the men jeered.

  ‘A great deal. I’m David Tanner Smith, a Member of Parliament for Hazelwick, and I’ve been working towards the passage of a reform bill for ten years. I know you are all impatient that progress has been so slow. But it does continue, and the bill will pass. From there, we’ll move on to address the next great issue, opening the vote to all. But only if we do not give those who oppose us reason to brand us as hooligans, intent only on destroying property and the social order.’

  While there were mutterings about how the social order ought to be destroyed, the fire in the crowd had been banked. Already a few, doubtless having second thoughts about the wisdom of attacking a ducal property, were drifting off.

  ‘How do you mean to get the bill passed, when all of them that killed it still sit in the Lords?’ one of the instigators demanded.

  ‘Because they may not be the only ones sitting,’ Davie said. ‘If it seems likely the Lords will vote down the bill in the next session, Grey will pressure the king to create new peers, enough to flood the Lords with supporters who will get the bill passed.’

  At that moment, a horseman appeared at the corner of the drive, galloping past the farm wagon carrying Faith and the boys, and charging up the rise towards them. As the rider drew closer, Davie recognised him as Walter Downing, the Member of Parliament for the local district.

  His arrival created a flutter in the crowd, some stirring as they identified their Parliamentary representative, a few more guiltily slipping away.

  ‘Men, what’s going on here?’ he demanded as he reined in.

  ‘Letting our displeasure be known,’ one of the leaders returned with a surly look.

  ‘Surely you don’t mean to jeopardise all our progress by doing something foolhardy!’

  ‘Is it true, what that man’s telling us?’ the leader asked, jerking his thumb at Davie. ‘That Grey and the King will make sure the bill passes in the next session?’

  ‘That man?’ Downing said, belatedly looking up. ‘Why, it’s Mr Smith! I don’t know what brought you here, but if you’ve kept these fellows from rash action, I thank you!’ Turning back to the leader, he said, ‘Henries, Mr Smith is one of the leaders of the Reform cause. Whatever he predicted, you can count on it!’ Looking towards the column of smoke coming from the direction of the stables, he frowned. ‘But what have you done here?’

  Just then, the crowd’s attention was deflected to the farm cart now driving back towards them, saving Henries from an answer. To Davie’s displeasure, as he wasn’t convinced the danger had been completely defused yet, Faith herself handled the ribbons.

  ‘Your Grace!’ Mr Downing cried as she brought the cart to a halt before them. With an aggravated glance towards Henries, he said, ‘I hope the...disturbance today hasn’t alarmed you.’

  ‘An unfortunate...accident at the stables, I’m afraid,’ she answered. ‘But Abrams tells me all the horses were got out safely, and the fire engine from the village is on its way. I expect these men heard of it, and came to help. If you gentlemen could hurry on and man some buckets while we await the fire engine? Much of the building is stone, so I hope we can salvage the main part.’

  ‘Off with you, men,’ Downing said, waving them towards the stables. Most took to their heels immediately, apparently eager to put the incident behind them.

  ‘So you are not inclined to summon the magistrate and...press charges against anyone?’ Downing asked.

  Faith turned a long, hard glance on the several ringleaders. ‘Not at this time. I hope they’re now convinced there is a better way to move forward.’

  ‘Magnanimous of you,’ Downing said. ‘Henries, Markham, and you others, why don’t you thank the Duchess, and go help the bucket brigade?’

  After a chorus of mumbled ‘Thankee, ma’am’, the men set off, even the recalcitrant Henries finally offering Faith a grudging nod. As he strolled away, they heard the bells of the fire wagon in the distance.

  Downing looked up to Faith and tipped his hat. ‘Thank you, Your Grace, for a forbearance and understanding that, frankly, would not have been forthcoming from your late husband. I must admit, as I rode out, I feared the day would end with half the local farmhands headed for gaol and a hanging.’

  As Davie clambered down from the rock and strode over to stand by the farm wagon, Mr Downing came over to shake his hand. ‘Thank you, too, sir. I’ve heard the tales from Derby and Bristol and even as near as Wollaton. We don’t need that here, or we’ll never get that blasted bill passed!’

  They all turned as the fire wagon appeared at the corner of the drive and laboured up the rise towards them. ‘Now that the brigade is arriving, Mr Downing, why don’t you encourage most of the men to return home?’ Faith said. ‘Abrams, take the wagon back, please. I’ll walk to the house with the boys, and come back to the stables after I check on the staff.’

  ‘Very good, Your Grace,’ Downing replied. ‘Thank you again.’

  As the MP set off, Faith turned to the man who’d helped Davie hold off the crowd. ‘Mr Banks, a special thanks to you, for coming to our aide. Your granny raised a responsible young man.’

  ‘Man enough to admit when I been wrong. Thank you for looking after Gran. I’ll see what I can do at the stables.’ After doffing his cap to Faith, Banks waved down the fire wagon, hopped aboard and rode along as it passed them and headed towards the stables.

  ‘Let me accompany you to the house,’ Davie said, helping Faith and the boys down from the wagon. ‘Just in case any recalcitrants are lingering in the vicinity.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Smith, the boys and I would appreciate that.’

  Though he was finally able to draw an easy breath, Davie wouldn’t be completely satisfied until he’d verified that the house was safe. Anger still stirred in his blood at the thought that those ruffians had threatened her and her boys—but how brave and magnificent she’d been, facing down that crowd!

  ‘How did you happen to come to Ashedon today, Mr Smith?’ Faith asked as he fell in beside them, arms held stiffly at his sides to resist the urge to sweep her into an embrace, just to feel the steady, normal beat of her heart against his chest.

  ‘We read in the papers about the disturbances in the countryside after the defeat of the bill. When Wollaton was mentioned, I knew I had to come check on you. So you must excuse my dirt.’ He motioned to his mud-splattered attire. ‘I rode straight through.’

  ‘From London?’ She looked back at him, startled. ‘You must be starving, as well as exhausted! W
e’ll find something for you in the kitchen—assuming that mob didn’t ransack the place.’

  ‘If they did, you may have to reconsider not pressing charges. We need a new England, but not one built out of coercion and law-breaking,’ Davie said grimly. ‘I haven’t worked the last ten years of my life for that.’

  A few minutes later, they arrived at the main house and skirted the front to go to the kitchen wing. Rapping at the door, which unaccountably appeared locked, they were admitted by the butler bearing a fireplace poker and the cook brandishing a rolling pin, while several maids wept in the background.

  ‘Your Grace! Thank the Lord! You are unharmed, I hope?’ the butler asked.

  ‘We are all well,’ Faith replied. ‘What of you in the house? Is everyone safe? Goodness, what a smell of smoke!’

  ‘Oh, ma’am, I thought they would murder us!’ one of the maids wailed.

  ‘They first sought admission at the front door, which I locked after refusing them. They tried to force their way in here, but Mrs Pierce and I were able to prevent them. They did manage to set fire to part of the roof—’

  ‘Trying to burn us alive!’ the maid wailed again.

  ‘But I sent the footmen up. They were able to put it out before it spread from the kitchen wing, but I fear it may take a long time to air the smoke from the rooms.’

  ‘Thank you, Knoles, and Mrs Pierce, for your bravery and resourcefulness! Despite the turmoil, might there be something in the larder for Mr Smith? A close friend of the family, he read about the disturbances in the newspaper, and has ridden straight through from London to offer us assistance.’

  ‘Of course, Your Grace, I can manage something,’ Cook said. ‘Susie, Mary, stop your snivelling and give me a hand.’

  ‘Mr Smith, you were the one standing on the rock, addressing the crowd?’ the butler asked. ‘I could see you from the upper windows.’ When Davie nodded, the butler said, ‘We owe you a great debt. The crowd might have decided to rush the doors, or tried harder to set this building afire, had you not deflected them. Whatever you told them must have been very persuasive!’

  ‘Dismay at their rash actions had begun to set in by then, and common sense to reassert itself. Mr Downing’s calming presence finished the matter,’ Davie said. ‘I would appreciate a quick bite, Mrs Pierce, and then I’m off for the stables. I’ll send the fire brigade down to check the roof, once they have the damage there contained.’ Turning to Faith, he said, ‘Why don’t you take the boys up to the nursery, out of all the commotion?’

  ‘Can I go to the stables with you?’ Matthew asked. ‘I like commotion!’

  ‘Later,’ Faith intervened. ‘We don’t want to distract the men from their work.’

  ‘The housekeeper is making a survey of the main and bedchamber wings now, Your Grace,’ the butler said. ‘To see how far the smoke spread, and determine what needs to be repaired.’

  ‘Very good, Knoles. I’ll take the boys out of harm’s way. Mr Smith, thank you again for your intervention. One hopes the crowd would have come to their senses before inflicting any more...damage, but I shall always credit you with making sure of that.’

  Her eyes telling him she’d like to say—and do—more, she simply pressed his hand. A sudden tremor running through him at the thought of what an angry crowd might have done to her, Davie felt that reassuring touch all the way to his bones.

  ‘We’ll talk later, Mr Smith,’ she promised as she gathered her sons. ‘Upstairs with you, now, boys! I bet Mrs Pierce will find something nice for your tea, as well as Mr Smith’s!’

  ‘So I shall, Your Grace,’ the cook said as Faith ushered the children out. ‘Mr Smith, Knoles will show you to the morning room. I’ll have something sent up in a trice.’

  ‘Just a quick nibble in the servants’ hall will do for me, if that won’t disturb your work,’ Davie said, watching Faith walk out. Why did it always seem as if the light in the room dimmed, once she’d left it? ‘I’d like to get down to the stables as soon as possible. By the time I get back, the housekeeper should have her report ready, and we can help the Duchess decide which repairs are needed first.’

  Mrs Pierce nodding her agreement, he followed the butler to the servants’ hall. Not until they’d sorted out the uncertainties left in the wake of today’s disturbance, and he assured himself that Faith and her sons were truly safe, could he think about broaching the question he’d been wanting to ask her for the last three weeks.

  Chapter Nineteen

  After an afternoon spent assessing damage and penning quick letters to Giles and Lord Englemere detailing the situation, Davie arrived back at the main house to find Faith had already dined and was about to tuck her sons in for the night. Invited to accompany her to give them the latest news, for, she said, their conversation all afternoon had concerned him and the extraordinary events of the day, he gladly followed in her wake as she took the stairs up to the nursery.

  Acutely conscious of her lovely form beside him, torn between impatience to get her alone and uncertainty over whether he should wait a while longer before delivering his proposal, or try his luck at once, he followed her up.

  The boys’ exclamations of delight at seeing him were gratifying, if counter-productive to their mother’s desire to settle them to sleep. ‘I’m glad to see you, too, boys, but I shouldn’t have come to bid you goodnight, if I’d thought I would keep you from your bedtime. It’s been a long day, for you and your mama, and you all need to rest.’

  ‘All the horses are safe, aren’t they?’ Matthew asked, as the boys subsided against their pillows.

  ‘And the dogs?’ Colin added.

  ‘Yes. All the livestock are unharmed. Much of the stable wing will need rebuilding, but we found space in barns on the neighbouring farms to house the dogs and horses while the work is done.’

  ‘Can we continue our riding lessons?’ Matthew asked.

  ‘I imagine you can, but that will be up to your mama.’

  ‘You were very brave, Mr Smith, staying there to face the crowd,’ Edward said.

  ‘It’s easier to be brave when you know you are right, and that by standing firm, you can protect people.’

  ‘I was scared!’ Matthew admitted. ‘Maybe when I grow as big as you, I won’t be.’

  ‘I’ll bet you won’t be,’ Davie replied with a chuckle.

  ‘Mama, why did you tell that man the crowd came to help us, when they came to burn the stables?’ Edward asked.

  ‘Sometimes people get so angry, they do things they regret. The penalties under law for destroying property and threatening people are very harsh,’ Faith explained. ‘Having them arrested would hurt their families. I wanted to give them the chance to reconsider their behaviour, and do better in future.’

  ‘Why were they so angry?’ Matthew asked.

  ‘Laws have changed, and many people lost the right to use common land to grow vegetables or keep a cow or chickens. That’s made it hard for them to feed their families. They wanted to elect officials who could change that, and a few days ago, the new law that might helped do that was voted down. They felt they had lost something precious, and been betrayed in the bargain.’

  ‘You mean like someone wanted to take away all their jam tarts, and leave them only a fish?’ Colin said.

  Faith smiled. ‘Worse than that. Take all the jam tarts, all the fish, and leave them hungry.’

  ‘I’d be mad, too,’ Colin decided.

  ‘So you see, they weren’t angry at you, just disappointed that they’d not received the help they expected. They acted hastily, without thinking first, as we all do sometimes,’ Davie said.

  ‘So...we’ll be safe here, tonight?’ Matthew asked.

  ‘I would never let anything happen to you or your mama,’ Davie promised.

  With a little sigh, Colin snuggled into his pil
low. ‘I think I can sleep now.’

  ‘Good,’ Faith said, kissing him on the forehead. ‘Tomorrow will be better.’

  ‘Can we go fishing again?’ Matthew’s drowsy voice asked.

  ‘Perhaps. I’ll have to talk with the staff. We might have to tend the dogs while they start the rebuilding on the stables.’

  ‘Building!’ Matt’s sleepy eyes opened wider. ‘Can I use a hammer?’

  ‘Very possibly. But now, you must sleep.’

  ‘Thank you for helping us today, Mr Smith,’ Edward said. ‘I was happy to let you protect Ashedon Court for me.’

  ‘And I was privileged to do it,’ Davie replied solemnly.

  ‘Goodnight, boys,’ Faith said.

  ‘Goodnight, Mama. Goodnight, Mr Smith,’ they chorused.

  Together they tiptoed out the nursery door and walked down the long hall. ‘How about a brandy?’ Faith asked. ‘I might even join you in one.’

  ‘An excellent idea. If you will guide me to the library. Otherwise, I may wander all night without finding the way.’

  Chuckling, she led him down the hallway, across a landing that overlooked the Great Hall, down a staircase into another wing. The odour of smoke increased notably as they proceeded.

  Wrinkling her nose, she said, ‘Thank heavens the smoke penetrated only as far as the central block. I don’t think we could sleep, if the smell were as strong in the bedchamber wing.’

  ‘I’m just glad they didn’t succeed in setting fire to the whole place.’

  ‘True,’ she agreed, walking into the library and pouring him a brandy from the decanter on the sideboard, then pouring one for herself.

  ‘You were serious,’ he said, raising his eyebrows.

  ‘Indeed,’ she retorted. ‘There’s something about watching your stables burn down, your house being torched and your children menaced, that creates quite a thirst.’

  Some of his earlier anxiety for her safety recurred, sending a shudder through him. ‘Thank the Lord it didn’t go any further.’