The Country Bride

by Dilly Court

  Mary covered her mouth with her hand, barely disguising a chuckle. ‘That sounds sensible, Hilda.’

  ‘I don’t know. I’d still find it awkward.’

  ‘You won’t see him,’ Judy said firmly. ‘You’ll be hidden except for the bit of you that is causing the problem. If he finds it disturbing, I’ll know by his expression.’

  ‘It’s the most practical solution, Hilda.’ Mary rose from the sofa. ‘I think I need a glass of sherry wine. You must both join me. I never drink alone.’ She moved swiftly to the bell pull and tugged it so hard that Judy was afraid she might pull it down.

  Judy turned back to her mother. ‘Well, what do you think?’

  ‘I don’t know, dear. It all sounds a bit theatrical, not to say embarrassing. There’s no getting round the fact that I look like something from a freak show.’

  Judy leaped to her feet. ‘Nonsense. I won’t have you say things like that about yourself. You’re the bravest, kindest woman I’ve ever met and you deserve to be happy.’

  Mary nodded emphatically. ‘I agree with Judy. It sounds a bit extreme, Hilda, but if you can’t bear to reveal your poor damaged limb in any other way, I don’t see the harm in it.’

  ‘I wonder what Grace Peabody would say if she knew,’ Hilda said with a wry smile.

  ‘Heaven forbid!’ Mary sank down on a chair by the fireplace. ‘Where is that girl? I really could do with a glass of sherry.’

  ‘I’ll fetch the decanter and glasses from the dining room,’ Judy said hastily. ‘Just in case words gets out that the mistress of Creek Manor has taken to drinking in the afternoon. That really would scandalise the vicar’s wife.’ She left the room, almost bumping into the parlour maid. ‘It’s all right, Lizzie. The mistress has changed her mind.’

  ‘Yes, miss.’ Lizzie turned on her heel and hurried back in the direction of the servants’ quarters, leaving Judy free to fetch the decanter.

  After two glasses of sherry, drunk in quick succession, Hilda finally plucked up the courage to agree, and they decided to put Judy’s stratagem into action the following afternoon.

  Later, when Judy had taken Jack’s supper to his room, she told him what they were planning and had the satisfaction of hearing him chuckle.

  ‘You’re a witch, Judy Begg,’ he said, grinning. ‘Who else would think of something like that?’

  ‘It’s common sense,’ she countered. ‘Ma is afraid that Wilfred will be horrified when he sees her poor injured leg, and both Mary and I said that if he really loves her he will take it all in his stride.’

  ‘Unlike poor Hilda,’ Jack said, laughing.

  Judy smiled. She knew that Jack was not being callous, it was merely his wry sense of humour struggling to get through the haze of misery that had held him in its thrall since the accident. He had always been able to see the funny side of a situation, and this was just the start of his recovery, or so she hoped. She waited until he had finished his meal, then she picked up the tray.

  ‘Lizzie should be doing that,’ Jack said sharply. ‘And you should be seated at table in the dining room with my mother. Why are you still here with me?’

  ‘I’m here because this is where I want to be, and I eat in the servants’ hall, as always.’

  ‘But that’s ridiculous, Judy. You aren’t a servant, and you should be treated as a member of the family.’

  ‘You’re wrong, Jack. I am still a servant, even if my position has changed slightly.’

  ‘I won’t have that. You’re my …’ He met her gaze with a puzzled frown. ‘I mean, we’ve been together for so long that you’re part of me.’

  ‘Not in the eyes of the family, or anyone else, if it comes to that. We’re not engaged or even thinking about it.’

  ‘Of course not. I’m a cripple and likely to remain so. I can’t marry you, or anyone while I’m in this state.’

  She could see that he was getting agitated and she headed for the doorway. ‘Don’t worry about it, Jack. It will all work out in time.’

  ‘That’s what people say when they don’t know what’s going to happen,’ he said bitterly. ‘Look at me, Judy. I’m supposed to be lord of the manor in Jay’s absence, but everyone knows that I’m not up to it. I wasn’t before the accident and now I’m completely useless. I can’t even elevate you from the servants’ quarters to the family table.’

  ‘I won’t listen to this.’ Judy balanced the tray on her knee while she opened the door. ‘I’ll come back after I’ve had my supper.’

  ‘Don’t bother. I’ll probably be asleep.’

  ‘All right, if that’s the way you want it, I’ll say good night.’ She left the room, knowing that she would return later and he would be pleased to see her, even if he pretended otherwise. She loved him dearly, but he was behaving like a fractious child.

  She took the tray to the kitchen where she found her mother in conversation with Cook and Ida Ralston, but Judy was quick to note the worried look on her mother’s face.

  ‘What’s the matter, Ma?’

  ‘Oh, Judy! I really can’t make up my mind. I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Judy asked wearily. ‘Is this about your feelings for Mr Faulkner or embarrassment because of your amputation?’

  ‘Yes, my dear,’ Cook said with a sympathetic smile. ‘If you have any doubts about marrying the fellow, I’d say think again.’

  ‘Yes, indeed.’ Ida Ralston nodded in agreement. ‘What exactly is worrying you, Hilda?’

  The sound of booted feet on the flagstone floor made them all turn with a start and Judy was surprised to see Wilfred Faulkner standing in the doorway, the smell of the stables hanging over him in a cloud.

  ‘Well, this is charming,’ he said, grinning. ‘Are you spreading the good news, Hilda, my dear? We’re to be married, ladies. My Hilda has yet to name the day, but it can’t be soon enough for me.’

  Nell nudged Hilda in the ribs. ‘Go on, then. Tell him what you want him to do.’

  Chapter Six

  It was all set up. The following afternoon, in the seldom-used Blue Parlour, Hilda sat in a chair behind a tapestry screen. Her damaged limb rested on a stool, and the wooden leg lay on the floor beside her. She had been ready to give up, but a glass of sherry had steadied her nerves, and Wilfred had been sent for, although he had not been told the reason for their meeting. Judy stationed herself on the other side of the screen, ready to pull it back just far enough to reveal the stump. It had seemed like a brilliant idea when first mooted, but now she was beginning to think it was a bit too theatrical, and might have the opposite effect to that planned. Everything now depended upon Wilfred and his reaction; she would know immediately if the sight of Hilda’s injury made him recoil in horror.

  The sound of footsteps in the corridor made Judy panic for a moment, but she took a deep breath, forcing herself to sound calm.

  ‘He’s here, Ma. Just sit tight and leave the rest to me.’

  ‘I could do with another tot of sherry wine, Judy.’

  ‘Nonsense. Do you want him to think that you are a toper? Sit quietly and let me do the talking.’ Judy waited for the rap on the door, then moved swiftly to open it. ‘Come in, Mr Faulkner. I expect you’re wondering why I asked you to come here today.’

  Wilfred Faulkner was a big man, used to working in the stables and apparently more comfortable when he was with horses than he was at this moment. He stepped into the room, clutching his cap in his hands. ‘I was a bit curious, miss.’

  Judy opened her mouth to explain, but Hilda cut her short.

  ‘Wilfred, it’s me, Hilda. I’m here behind the screen.’

  His mouth dropped open and he cleared his throat noisily. ‘What are you doing hiding behind that thing, Hilda?’

  ‘There’s something I want you to see before I give you my answer to the question you asked yesterday.’

  ‘I’m hoping that you will accept my offer, Hilda. I haven’t got much, but what I do have will be yours if you’ll agree to marry me.�
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  ‘That’s just the point,’ Hilda said softly. ‘You know about my injury, but you haven’t seen it. I want you to take a good look, and if you can’t abide the sight of my stump, then we’ll say no more about it. I don’t want us to marry and then you have the shock of your life.’

  ‘Hilda, me dear, I can’t believe you would think that of me. Wasn’t I a boy soldier sent out to fight in the Crimean Peninsula in ’53? I saw many things what a boy of fourteen should not see, so you mustn’t worry about your poor leg.’

  ‘But I do, Wilfred. I want you to take a good look before you commit yourself to marriage.’

  ‘My dear, I’ve loved you from afar for the last ten years, only I thought I wasn’t good enough to propose to a lady like you. I would count myself the luckiest and happiest man in the world if you would marry me.’

  Judy wiped a tear from her eyes, wishing she had had the forethought to put a hanky in her pocket. ‘Shall I pull back the screen, Ma?’

  ‘Yes, but only to show the worst of it.’

  Judy folded back part of the screen to reveal the pitiful stump just below her mother’s knee. She studied Wilfred’s face and saw that he, too, was crying. Tears trickled down his weather-beaten cheeks, disappearing into the soft fluff of his neatly trimmed beard and moustache. He said nothing as he moved the screen aside and he went down on one knee.

  ‘Hilda Begg, I loves you, girl. I wants you to be me wife more than anything in the whole wide world, and to me you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Will you do me the honour of being my wife?’

  Hilda threw her arms around his neck and burst into tears. ‘Oh, Wilfred, yes I will, with all my heart.’

  Judy mopped her eyes on her apron as she hurried from the room, giving the lovers the privacy they deserved. She found Mary loitering in the corridor.

  ‘Well? What happened, Judy? Why are you crying? Didn’t it work out?’

  ‘Oh, yes, it did. It was quite beautiful and I think they’ll be very happy together.’

  ‘I’m glad.’ Mary hesitated, frowning.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Judy asked anxiously.

  ‘Nothing really, it’s just hearsay, but I believe Faulkner can be a bit hot-tempered at times.’

  ‘But he seems so gentle with Ma. Perhaps he’s different with men.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure you’re right, and he has a lot of responsibility looking after the horses and training the young boys. I’m sure they can be a handful, and I’ve no complaints about his work.’

  ‘I’ve never heard my brothers complain about him, but perhaps I ought to warn Ma.’

  ‘No, don’t do that, Judy. Your mother deserves a good life with a loving husband, and they will have the cottage.’ Mary gave Judy a calculating look. ‘You’ll stay here, of course.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought that far ahead, but thank you. I’d better start organising the wedding. I don’t suppose Ma is in a state to make the necessary arrangements.’

  ‘We’ll do this properly,’ Mary said firmly. ‘It will be a summer wedding, not on a grand scale like Daisy’s, but your mother will have the best we can give her. She will be a June bride, and there’s much to do before then.’

  The forthcoming wedding had the household in the grip of a race against time. Mary decided to pay for everything, given that Hilda had earned very little during her time at Creek Manor and Faulkner’s wages as head groom would not cover the bare essentials. Hilda had wanted a quiet wedding, but Mary was eager to show off her home and her position as the squire’s widow, although she passed most of her responsibilities on to Judy, including the organisation of the wedding.

  Judy’s first task was to help Hilda select the material for her wedding gown. Hilda insisted that it must be a sensible style that could be worn as her Sunday best. Miss Creedy, the village dressmaker, was given the task of making it, together with dresses for Judy and Molly, who were to be maids of honour. It also fell to Judy to organise the wedding breakfast on a very limited budget, although Mary refused to acknowledge the fact that funds were low. Judy, Cook and Mrs Ralston put their heads together, and with Molesworth’s help they chose food and wine that would suit all the guests.

  Both Faulkner and Hilda were well known in the village, and Little Creek was such a tight-knit community that it would have been easier to invite everyone, but Judy had to be practical. With a limited budget she had to be ruthless when Hilda presented her with a long list, and they sat down together and managed to cut it down to a reasonable size. Judy spent several afternoons laboriously writing out the invitations, which were then delivered by Nate and Pip. Both boys said they were pleased to welcome Wilfred into the family, although Judy thought she detected unspoken criticisms of their mother’s choice behind their warm words. However, it was obvious that Hilda was radiant, and Judy would not have said anything to mar her mother’s happiness, so she kept the niggling concern to herself.

  The only person who was not excited about the coming nuptials was Jack, who was able to sit up in bed, but had not regained any feeling in his legs. Dr Neville gave him exercises to perform in an attempt to strengthen his muscles, but Jack was not a good patient, and he expected miracles. Judy suggested that he might feel more cheerful if James or one of the grooms were to carry him downstairs to the drawing room, but Jack refused on the grounds that it would be humiliating. Judy had done her utmost to humour him, but even she was beginning to lose patience. In the end she turned to Nick Neville after one of his regular visits to see Jack.

  ‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said cautiously. ‘I saw people being pushed along in chairs with wheels. They weren’t the old-fashioned Bath chair, but something much more practical.’

  ‘I know what you mean, Judy. They’re quite a modern invention, and probably expensive, but maybe we could get a second-hand one. I’ll contact Dr Marshall and see if he can help.’

  ‘Oh, would you? I’d be so grateful. Jack is trying everyone’s patience, and I’m at my wits’ end to know what else to do for him.’

  Dr Neville patted her on the shoulder. ‘I understand. Leave it to me.’

  Three weeks later the wheelchair arrived in the back of Farmer Johnson’s cart. When unloaded and brought into the great hall it looked a bit dilapidated and dusty, which was explained by the fact that it had been left in an outbuilding after the previous owner had passed away. Judy decided that there was nothing that a lot of beeswax polish and elbow grease could not solve, and she set about cleaning it up, working all afternoon on the chair until it gleamed like new.

  Daisy had called in to see Jack, bringing her youngest son with her as Timmy was not yet old enough to join his older brothers in the schoolroom, but his eyes lit up when he spotted the wheelchair, and he demanded a ride. Judy pushed him round the great hall while his mother went upstairs to see Jack, and Timmy had to be physically prised from the chair when his mother came downstairs to take him home.

  ‘At least I know it works,’ Judy said, smiling. ‘I just hope Jack approves of it as much as young Timmy.’

  ‘No, Timmy. You can’t ride home in the wheelchair.’ Daisy restrained her young son by seizing him round the waist and lifting him off his feet. ‘If you misbehave I won’t bring you here again, and I most certainly won’t ask Nate to take you for a pony ride.’

  Timmy subsided at once, and was set free. ‘I’m sorry, Mama.’

  ‘What a good boy.’ Judy ruffled his curly hair. ‘Next time your mama brings you here, I’ll make sure that one of my brothers is free to take you for a ride.’

  Timmy’s face lit up with a huge grin and he gave Judy a hug.

  ‘I’ve been thinking,’ Daisy said slowly. ‘Both your brothers work in the stables, don’t they?’

  Judy nodded. ‘They do.’

  ‘And Nate is particularly good with Timmy. I was wondering if he’d be interested in working for us at Colneyhurst. I imagine he would stand more chance of promotion, when he’s older, of course. He’s still very young, isn’t he
?’

  ‘He’s thirteen, but he’ll be fourteen soon. I can’t speak for Nate, but he might be interested.’

  ‘I’ll have a word with Marius, and our head groom, but I’d like all my boys to be good riders, and Nate seems to have more patience with young children than most boys his age.’

  ‘Would you like me to find out if he’d consider a move? He’s very close to Pip and he might not want to be parted from his brother.’

  ‘Yes, Judy. Find out how he feels, because I wouldn’t want him to be unhappy or homesick. They’re both good boys. I’d take the pair of them if it were possible.’ Daisy took Timmy by the hand. ‘We must go now, but I hope the wheelchair works for Jack. He’s very depressed, poor fellow.’

  ‘It’s all I can think of at the moment.’

  ‘His accident is one reason why I want my boys to learn to ride while they’re young, and to be taught by someone who’s learned the right way to do things. Anyway, I mustn’t stand chatting. Goodbye, Judy. You’re doing a wonderful thing for Jack. I hope he realises how lucky he is to have you.’

  Judy waved goodbye to Daisy as she left the house, holding her youngest son by the hand. Even though she had been a child at the time of Daisy’s disastrous marriage to Jay Tattersall, Judy had great respect for the way Daisy had dealt with the heartbreak and humiliation. She had come through the bad times, and if Jack could follow her example he might recover at least some of his old spirit, instead of giving up on life, as he seemed to be doing now. Judy sighed and pushed the wheelchair into a corner out of the way. It was too late in the day to ask Jack to try it out, but tomorrow she would broach the subject. The wedding was in two weeks’ time and it would be wonderful if Jack could be present.

  Next day, after a great deal of persuasion, Jack allowed James to carry him downstairs and Judy had the wheelchair waiting for him. James lowered him gently onto the seat and then backed away.

  ‘Well?’ Judy could hardly contain her excitement. ‘Is it comfortable? Would you like to go outside and get some fresh air? It’s a lovely day.’