by Laura Locke
Afterwards, he went down the street to the inn. He entered and found Sarah Newman in her parlor, about to commence tea.
“Oh, Richard! Come in, come in and join me. I was about to take tea and quite distressed that it would be alone. Have you time?”
“Indeed, Sarah, I have. I’ve been missing your biscuits, if truth be told.” Sarah blushed from the praise and she re-arranged her skirts on the settee.
“So, what brings you to town?” she inquired as she poured. Her tea set was her prized possession. It had been given to her by the lady of a great house where she’d been a housekeeper in her younger years. “It’s a one of a kind, you know,” she pointed out again for Richard’s benefit.
“Yes, I know, and continue to admire it.” He took the tea cup and saucer from her hand and sat in the red chair. “As you know, I’ve moved onto the farm and it seems I hadn’t taken into consideration the number of items needed for housekeeping. One lives simply on the road, if you get my drift.”
“Indeed, I do. You are right. Take my tea set, for example. Surely you would have no need of such a beautiful set while living in a wagon, but now… well, should you have callers, my guess is you would have nothing to offer.”
Richard blushed, and he cast his eyes downward to her beautiful carpet. “No, you are indeed correct. I cannot hope to get all these things right away, but eventually I hope to stock a fine of a house as is necessary to…” he stopped abruptly.
“To…?” Sarah looked at him with curiosity. She knew whatever he had left off had been something he wished to be kept private. “You have no family hereabouts, young Richard. You may count on it that should you confide in me, I will hold your secrets and offer good counsel.”
“Of that, I have no doubt,” he answered as he bit into a fresh biscuit and the butter coated his tongue with flavor. “So delicious. When I have a proper kitchen set up, I would be obliged to persuade you to divulge your recipe.”
“You need a woman in that house,” Sarah concluded succinctly.
“Indeed…” Richard responded, his thoughts trailing off.
Sarah set down her tea cup and leaned forward on the settee, her face filled with knowing. “Something tells me you might already have your eye on some lucky lady?”
He blushed furiously, a habit he despised as he considered it most unmanly.
“Come on, young Richard. Tell me who it is. Mayhap I can help.”
“I don’t know, Sarah. I fear it is a very unreasonable pursuit as I know I could never be good enough for her.”
“What’s this? You are as fine a young man as any father could hope for his daughter.” She chastised him with the tip of her finger wagging in his direction.
He continued to contemplate her carpeting.
Her face suddenly lit up. “Ahh… so, now I see it. You are concerned that you have not the financial means to offer a wife, is that it?”
He looked up, nodding. “Indeed, you are perceptive, Sarah.”
She loved his words because she often felt unappreciated. Her chest puffed like a peacock and with a knowing nod she ventured further. “Knowing that you have only recently come to town, and know practically no one, my guess is that you found your eyes pleased by the young Mistress Barrington when you visited the mercantile?”
Richard’s shoulders sank as his secret was revealed. He said nothing.
“Aha, then I am correct. I thought as much. I know you have frequented the mercantile. No doubt you already know that Dr. Burroughs is also interested in keeping company with her?”
“He is?” Richard’s hopes sank. He could never hope to compete with a surgeon. Dr. Burroughs would one day have a very fine house, well-furnished and she would be comfortable for the rest of her life.
“Indeed,” Sarah nodded, “and he’s not the only one. There have been others. I know. I’ve seen their faces when she walks down the street.”
“How many?” Richard could possibly take on one competitor, but several would make it too difficult.
Sarah shrugged. “I am indeed sorry, my boy, for I know what it is to love and be rejected,” she said, her voice trailing off in unhappiness. “She is as fine a catch as any could hope for. In my opinion, and only my opinion, mind you, the squire intends her to marry above the station of any here in the village. There is his money to consider, of course, and she is his only kin, so stands to inherit it all. She is beautiful, there is no doubt, so no man would turn a sour face at her. I believe he intends to take her to London soon and introduce her into the proper circles. There’s no telling how high she might rise, if married to the proper man. The squire means to advance his own ends, mind you. He loves his daughter, but will marry her off as a sound business arrangement. Do not think otherwise. No, young Richard, I believe you should cast your eyes toward another. Her future does not lie here in Leister.”
Richard sighed deeply. “You are correct in your perception, as usual, dear Sarah. I fear I dreaded your words as I knew myself to be of low station as a self-employed farrier. She is worthy of a finer life than I could provide, of that there is no doubt. I suppose every man has the right to dream, however.”
“Just do not let the squire catch you dreaming, Richard. He would not look kindly upon your sending her head elsewhere, if you understand me.”
Richard nodded. “I do understand.”
“It would not do,” Sarah went on, “for you to jeopardize the good fortune that has come your way with the squire’s trust. He meant what he said he would do if you crossed him, believe me, boy. No, it is better that you build your business until you are secure and then seek the hand of another of the village’s maidens. When you are to that point, let me know and naturally, I would be only too happy to invite a select few to tea to meet you. I’m sure, given your looks, word has already circulated.” She sipped her tea, indicating the matter was closed. Richard unhappily had to accept that.
“Now then,” she went on, “let’s see what we may do about getting you some customers. As the only farrier within miles, there is a certain amount of business that will come to you by default. However, we cannot await fate. You may depend on me. I will circulate the word. I am not without connections, I will have you know.”
Richard tried to force a smile despite the feeling of failure in the pit of his stomach. “No, indeed, Sarah, I have never doubted that. That is, quite honestly, why I came to you. I had hoped you might put in a good word for me now and then. Naturally, should you require any iron work done here on the property, or anything else I might repair for you, naturally, I hope you will not hesitate to summon me.”
“Oh, the inn belongs not to me, my boy. It is the property of the squire. He would hire you, not I.”
“Very well, but please do not hesitate to contact me should you require anything at all.”
“I shall definitely put in a good word for you. Drink your tea now, Richard and then get back to your farm before you are tempted to stop elsewhere,” she urged, knowing fully well where he would be headed.
“Thank you, Sarah. Your advice is sound. I do, however, need to stop by the surgeon’s. He is monitoring my wounds and I’ve not been to see him in several days.
“Very well, but mind you, keep our conversation to yourself. It would not do for the squire to hear.”
“No, I agree. I agree entirely,” Richard said with a regretful nod.
Chapter 11
Richard surveyed the ground he’d turned for his garden with a sense of immense pride. He wouldn’t be able to plant until spring, but in the meantime the soil would breathe. He found a plow behind the barn and hitched one of the horses, making the job much simpler than doing it manually. In his mind, he was already planning the rows: carrots, beets, potatoes, broccoli, peppers, beans, corn and tomatoes. He planned to find nice assortment of berry bushes to plant along the far side, spacing them so they would provide shade and a haven for bees. His plans included a set of bee keeping hives located far away from the house; he loved the taste of f
resh honey.
He had already procured a new client who was willing to barter for enough food to get him through the winter. To his joy, this included a dairy cow and some chickens, for which he would build a house and pen. He’d also bartered for some ground corn and wheat in large bags; there was little he lacked, except a wife with which to share his good fortune.
“Hello, the house,” called a man’s voice as Richard emerged from the barn after having milked the cow. He carried a pail and waved with his free hand.
“To whom do I have the pleasure?” Richard called to him.
“Weatherly is the name. Surely Squire Barrington mentioned me?”
“Oh, yes, yes, he did, sir. Good to meet you, Mr. Weatherly. Richard Wellchester at your service,” Richard greeted him, transferring the pail to his left hand again to extend a handshake. “I expect you’ve come about the collection of rents?”
“Indeed, I have.”
“Won’t you come inside?” Richard invited him. “I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer in the way of seating, but I did build a rough table and bench last week. Come in and let me offer you a glass of cold water. Perhaps a cup of tea?”
“Tea would be marvelous, thank you, young Wellchester,” Mr. Weatherly nodded and removed his head as he ducked to enter the cottage. Inside he found everything to be neat and tidy, a fire burning on the hearth and a pot of something that smelled delicious simmering on the cooking hook over the fire. It was spartan, but serviceable and masculine in its efficiency. Wood was stacked on the hearth and Weatherly had noticed a healthy supply waited beneath the roof of a lean to at one end of the cottage. “I see you are well-prepared for winter,” he commented as Richard set a kettle over the fire for tea.
“Yes, sir, as well as I can be. I grew up many years doing without and don’t care to repeat those cold, hungry days again.” Richard pulled two earthen pottery mugs from the shelf over the fireplace mantle and then retrieved a canister that held the tea.
The men settled over their mugs and Richard politely waited for Weatherly to speak.
“I’ve brought with me the list of tenants and their rents. They all know you are coming, now that the harvest is in. The amount is the same as last year; the squire is a fair man. You’ll see I’m right.”
“I have no cause to doubt that,” responded Richard. “He has been more than fair with me. In fact, for the most part, he is responsible for the fact that I will have a roof over my head this winter and food in my belly.”
Weatherly tamped the pipe he had pulled from his pocket. He shook his head, looking around the room. “The squire is a good judge of character. He may have given you the opportunity, but it is up to you to make use of it,” he observed. Richard felt a warm rush of pride.
“Well,” Weatherly stood and downed his last sip of tea, “let us be about our work. This time I’ll go around with you, but it will be up to you from now on. I am to understand that you will also be inspecting the horses and seeing to their needs?”
“Yes. I’m bringing my small notebook to keep track of names and needs. I’ll make a copy for the squire’s records.”
“Good thinking, lad,” Weatherly approved.
Weatherly and Richard mounted their horses and went from one tenant farm to the next. Richard’s head swam with the introductions, but he inspected their animals and made careful notes. He would come to define the people by their animals. It was that way, when you were a farrier. Mr. Weatherly hung back, unwilling to interfere unless necessary. He would later go back and file a very favorable report on Richard to the squire.
“So, my trust was not misplaced, I take it?” responded the squire at Weatherly’s words.
“No, sir, no indeed. I should be very proud were that young man my son. Your judgment was flawless and what is more, I believe each of you shall benefit from the partnership. I really see no negative from any angle.” Weatherly stood in Squire Barrington’s front hall, his hat nervously passed between his fingers as he spoke. Squire Barrington was a formidable individual, but even more so as he stood, feet spread wide at the entry to his estate.
“Good. Very good. I believe tomorrow morning I shall follow up on your visit and see for myself.”
Mr. Weatherly nodded, holding out a leather bag that contained the tenants’ rents. “I believe you’ll find it is all there, Squire. It was a good year for crops and we heard not a single complaint.”
“Excellent. Good job, Weatherly.” The squire took the bag, pulling at the strings to open it and look inside with satisfaction. The magnificent grandfather clock that stood in the hall chimed, making it an almost momentous occasion.
Weatherly nodded, exhaling with relief and let himself out the front door. Squire Barrington stood a while longer in the entryway, contemplating the report he had just received. The sound of light footsteps approached behind him and he turned to see Eliza’s smiling face.
“Was that Mr. Weatherly, Father?” she asked in a cheery voice.
“Indeed, daughter, it was.” Squire Barrington seldom confided the details of his business to his daughter. He felt a woman’s job was to be wife and mother and to take care of her home. Business belonged in the man’s domain.
“And Richard Wellchester? Did he meet with your expectations?”
Squire Barrington nodded, thoughtful. “In fact, it would seem he has exceeded them. On the morrow, I intend to visit young Wellchester, to see in person what has so thoroughly impressed Weatherly.”
Eliza saw her opportunity and was quietly excited as she asked, “Father, if you would not mind, I would like to ride along. It has been some days since I have been out of the house and with the winter coming, I would find it pleasurable to get a bit of exercise.”
Squire Barrington nodded absentmindedly, pulling his watch from his pocket and leaving her behind as he strode into his study. Eliza smiled, the partially obsequious, partially mysterious smile of a woman who has begun her plans.
The next morning, Eliza rose early. Her room, splendid in the color of pale yellow that made it sunny year-round, became a flurry of activity as she bid her maid to find just the right riding habit as to make a good impression. She made certain to be dressed and waiting early in the front entry hall. She did not want to give her father any excuse to leave without her. She hoped he would not notice that she had applied a little color to her lips and cheeks, intended to make her eyes sparkle all the more.
Squire Barrington strode into the room, nodded in her direction and left through the front door, waiting for her to close it. The groomsmen stood in the drive, the bridles of two horses in hand. He assisted Eliza to gain her saddle and as she arranged her skirts, the squire mounted his horse and they set off down the drive in the direction of Richard’s farm. Eliza secretly hoped that Richard would not take offense at their unannounced visit. Her father believed in the strategy of surprise when it came to managing his business affairs.
As they approached Richard’s farm, Eliza could see him walking between the barn in the cottage, a pail in his hand. A dog trotted faithfully behind him. Noticing the pail, Eliza surmised that he had recently milked the cow he kept in the barn. Before her father could approach any closer, she called out Richard’s name and waved, hoping to give him a moment to collect himself.
“Wellchester, I say, thought I would pop in for a quick look and chat. Hope it is not a problem,” called out the squire in Richard’s direction.
“No, sir, of course not. You and your daughter are more than welcome. Please, allow me to take your horses and go inside where it’s warm.” Richard came toward them, going directly to Eliza and pulling her from the saddle with his hands about her waist. She hesitated a few moments longer than necessary and looked up at him with a welcoming smile. None of this escaped the squire’s attention, evident by the frown on his face. Eliza bent over to pet the dog who nudged at her skirts. “Down, Boy,” Richard ordered and then looked toward Eliza. “Please, I invite you to go inside while I put the horses in the barn.”
Eliza nodded and led the way into the cottage. The squire slapped his hands together and took it upon himself to throw another two logs onto Richard’s fire. Eliza frowned and then looked away. Her father did not understand how it was to live without plenty. She knew very well that Richard’s wood supply was meant to last him through the winter. Indeed, he would spend much of his time in the barn with the forge and not need the cottage to be kept quite so warm.
Richard tied the horses up in the barn and gave each of them access to water and a bit of feed. He hastened indoors, carefully leaving his boots outside on the steps. “I am afraid I am not as prepared for guests as my mother raised me to be, but may I offer you tea?”
The squire was about to refuse, but Eliza cut him off, saying, “That sounds wonderful. It is so cold out.” This caused the squire to frown, as he had come to discuss business and not for a social call. A farrier was not on his level of social intercourse. He frowned more visibly, this time directly at Eliza to discourage further conversation. She ignored him.
Richard felt the tension between the two and quickly spoke up, hoping to relieve it. “I must say, I am surprised to find the two of you riding in the open in this chill.” As soon as he had said it, he chided himself for his brazen words. Perhaps the squire would take offense. It seemed that the squire either had not listened to his words or had something more important to say, for he did not flinch.
“My man, Weatherly, tells me you are getting on well. I understand you have completed the rents collection and will see to the horses over the next month.”
Richard nodded. “Yes, sir, indeed I have. You should be pleased to hear that the ideal growing conditions over the past summer left the livestock in good health. Other than a fresh set of shoes, they should be strong and hardy enough to weather the winter without loss.”
The squire nodded. “Good. That is good news, indeed.”
