The Country Bride

by Dilly Court

  Jack said nothing for a long moment and Judy was afraid he was going to refuse, but then he nodded. ‘I suppose so. Are you going to push this contraption?’

  ‘Yes, although I’ll need James to help me get it down the steps. From then onwards it’s easy.’ Judy beckoned to James, who stepped forward, and together they managed to get the chair down the front steps and onto the gravelled drive. ‘Thank you, James.’ Judy began to push the chair towards the parterre garden, but Jack raised his hand.

  ‘Not there. I’d like to go to the stables to see Conqueror.’

  Judy hesitated, trying in vain to think of a plausible excuse. She was worried that seeing his horse again might rekindle memories of the accident, but Jack was adamant, and against her better judgement she agreed. Even so, it was good to see the fresh breeze whipping some colour back into his pale cheeks, and the pleasure he exhibited on seeing his horse again was heart-warming. Conqueror rubbed his head against Jack’s shoulder, whinnying softly.

  ‘He’s missed you, Jack,’ Pip said, grinning. ‘He’s trying to say he’s sorry you got hurt.’

  ‘It wasn’t his fault.’ Jack raised his hand to stroke Conqueror’s soft muzzle. ‘I misjudged the jump. It was lucky he didn’t break a leg.’

  ‘Don’t think about it,’ Judy said hastily. ‘He’s obviously pleased to see you.’

  ‘Horses don’t bear grudges, not like people.’ Jack’s smile faded. ‘If he had broken a leg he’d have been shot. It’s a pity they couldn’t do that for me.’

  ‘Jack!’ Judy gasped. ‘Don’t say things like that.’ She glanced at her brother and saw that he too was upset. ‘Jack doesn’t mean it, Pip. He was joking.’

  Pip nodded, but he did not look convinced. ‘Shall I take Conqueror back to his stall?’

  Jack shrugged and turned away. ‘You might as well. I’ll never ride again. Take me back to the house, Judy. I’m tired.’

  ‘Is it my fault?’ Pip whispered.

  Judy shook her head. ‘No, of course not. Maybe we’ll come again tomorrow.’

  ‘Get me out of here, please, Judy.’ Jack’s voice broke on a suppressed sob and she pushed the wheelchair out of the stable. They emerged into bright sunshine and she did not stop until they were clear of the stable yard.

  ‘Do you really want to go back to the house? Would you like to see the lake?’

  ‘I want to go back to my room.’

  ‘Of course, but wouldn’t you like to have tea in the drawing room first? Your mother would love that.’

  ‘I can’t think of anything worse. I don’t want people fussing over me, Judy. Just do as I say, take me back to the house and James can carry me upstairs like the cripple I am.’

  Judy sighed, but she knew Jack well enough to realise that arguing was futile. They returned to the house in silence, and when Jack had been taken to his room Judy stowed the wheelchair out of sight. It seemed now that her initial reservation about visiting the stables had been well judged. The memory of the accident had stirred up all the anger and emotion that Jack had been feeling, and had made matters worse. She stood stiffly, staring out of one of the tall windows with unseeing eyes. The glory of the early summer’s day and the beauty of the grounds did not register in her mind. All she could think of was Jack, immured, it seemed for ever, in his room upstairs.

  The sound of a horse’s hoofs and the clatter of wheels brought her abruptly back to the present and she saw Dr Neville’s chaise approaching the carriage sweep. It was with a huge feeling of relief that she ran to the door and wrenched it open. Dr Neville was the only person with whom she could speak openly about Jack’s problems. Mary became distressed if she suspected that Jack was not making progress and Hilda was too involved in her wedding plans to offer any words of encouragement. Judy stood on the top step and waited while Dr Neville climbed down from the vehicle, and to her delight he was followed by Dr Godfrey. Maybe Dr God could live up to his name and offer a treatment for Jack that would give him hope of recovery.

  ‘It’s good to see you again, Judy,’ Dr Godfrey said, smiling.

  ‘And you, Doctor. I’m so glad you’ve come. Jack is very downhearted at the moment.’

  Dr Neville nodded. ‘It’s only to be expected. I remember Jack when he was a boy and he was always up to something. I treated him when he fell from a tree and broke his arm.’

  ‘Is it convenient for me to see him now?’ Dr Godfrey asked politely. ‘I take a particular interest in his injury, although I can’t promise a cure.’

  ‘If you could just give him some hope,’ Judy said quickly. ‘He thinks he’ll be like this for the rest of his life. He won’t, will he?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Dr Godfrey shook his head. ‘I wish I could give you some hope, but I’ve done some research and it might be something the doctors are calling spinal shock. If that’s so, then he will recover, although it’s impossible to say how long it might take.’

  ‘And if not?’

  ‘Then he might spend the rest of his life as a cripple.’

  ‘Come along, Ben,’ Dr Neville said impatiently. ‘We won’t know if there’s been any improvement until we’ve seen the patient.’

  ‘Of course.’ Dr Godfrey gave Judy a rueful smile. ‘We’ll do everything we can for Jack.’ He followed his colleague up the grand staircase, leaving Judy staring after them. She wanted so much to believe that Jack would recover the use of his limbs, but she knew that she must prepare herself for the worst. No matter what the outcome she would always stand by Jack and support him in every way possible. She hurried to the drawing room to tell Mary that the doctors has arrived.

  Mary had wanted to go upstairs to be with her son, but Judy had managed to dissuade her, and they settled down to wait. After half an hour Mary was becoming restive and she jumped to her feet. ‘I think I’d better go and see what’s keeping them.’

  ‘Jack won’t thank you for barging in, Mrs Tattersall. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but you know what he’s like.’

  Mary subsided back onto her seat. ‘I suppose so. But he’s still my boy, no matter how old he is.’

  ‘I can hear someone coming.’ Judy turned her head at the sound of the door opening and Dr Neville entered first, followed by Dr Godfrey. Judy glanced from one to the other, but their expressions were carefully controlled and gave nothing away. ‘How is he, Doctor?’

  ‘Is there any improvement?’ Mary added anxiously. ‘Ring the bell for Lizzie, please, Judy. I’m sure the doctors would like some refreshment.’

  ‘A cup of tea would be most welcome,’ Dr Neville said, smiling.

  Judy stood up and reached for the bell pull. ‘Is it good news, Dr Godfrey?’

  ‘There’s little change from when I last examined the patient,’ Dr Godfrey said carefully. ‘But there is no deterioration in Jack’s condition, so I remain hopeful.’

  Mary’s hands flew to cover her flushed cheeks and she uttered a cry of relief. ‘I’m so glad. But where are my manners? Please sit down, gentlemen.’ She waited until they were settled. ‘So what exactly are you saying, Dr Godfrey? Will my son recover fully, or not?’

  ‘I would love to be able to give you a definite answer, Mrs Tattersall, but I’m afraid I cannot. All I can say for sure is that Jack is young and strong, and it is just a matter of time, although you can help him by keeping up his spirits.’ Dr Godfrey turned to Judy. ‘I gather you took him out in the wheelchair this afternoon. That is just the sort of thing he needs.’

  Judy shook her head. ‘I thought so, but now I’m not so sure. Jack insisted on going to the stables to see his horse, and he was very upset. I think he’s afraid that he’ll never ride again.’

  ‘Oh, Judy, that was a silly thing to do,’ Mary said crossly. ‘You ought to have known better.’

  ‘I didn’t set out to take him there, Mrs Tattersall. It was Jack’s idea.’

  ‘And we all know that Jack can be very determined when he sets his mind on something,’ Dr Neville said, chuckling. ‘I wouldn’t let that put
you off, Judy. Maybe in a day or two you might suggest another outing, and this time take him in the opposite direction.’

  ‘I could take him out in my carriage,’ Mary suggested eagerly.

  ‘Perhaps at a later date, ma’am.’ Dr Godfrey exchanged meaningful looks with his colleague. ‘I mean, of course it would do him good to get out and about, but the jarring on his spine simply getting in and out of a carriage is not advisable at this stage.’

  Judy could see that Mary was affronted by Dr Godfrey’s dismissal of her project, but the arrival of Lizzie created a diversion.

  ‘You rang, ma’am?’

  ‘Yes, Lizzie. We would like tea and cake. Judy will give you a hand.’ Mary nodded to Judy, adding in a low voice. ‘Go and help the girl. You know she gets things wrong, and I expect Jack would like some refreshment after undergoing the examination. As the doctor said, we must keep up his spirits.’

  Judy had little choice other than to rise from her chair and follow Lizzie from the room. She avoided looking at Dr Godfrey, although what he must think of her was anyone’s guess. Mary had not done it deliberately, Judy knew that, but she had been put firmly in her place. Judy Begg was nothing more than a servant, and as such she was expected to wait on Mary and her visitors.

  ‘I ain’t stupid,’ Lizzie said over her shoulder as she hurried towards the servants’ quarters. ‘I can put up a tea tray and cut some slices from a cake.’

  ‘Of course you can, but I expect Mrs Tattersall wants to talk to the doctors in private.’

  Lizzie cast her a pitying glance. ‘You’re stuck then, aren’t you? I mean you’re not one of them, nor really one of us neither. It’s a shame because I like you, Judy.’

  ‘And I like you, Lizzie,’ Judy said, forcing a smile. ‘If you’ll see to the tray for the drawing room, I’ll take some tea and cake up to the master.’

  Lizzie pulled a face. ‘He ain’t much of a master now, though. He’s a poor cripple what can’t leave his bedchamber, never mind anything else. We’re all very sorry for him, and you too. Cook says—’

  ‘Never mind that now,’ Judy said hastily. ‘Let’s get on with this, shall we?’ She hurried towards the kitchen with Lizzie clomping along behind her. Judy came to a halt and spun round. ‘What have you got on your feet?’

  Lizzie giggled and raised her skirt a couple of inches, revealing a pair of men’s boots, caked in mud. ‘Sorry, miss. My shoes are at the cobbler’s being mended. These belong to me elder brother.’

  ‘Are they all you could find this morning?’

  ‘I didn’t think anyone would notice under me frock.’

  ‘No wonder you fall over your own feet. When you’ve taken the tea to the drawing room I want you to go and find Mrs Ralston. Perhaps she can help.’ Judy could see the slow working of Lizzie’s mind as she tried to think of two things at the same time. ‘Never mind,’ Judy added hastily. ‘I’ll see if I can find you a pair of decent shoes. Just do what Mrs Tattersall asked.’

  Grinning with relief, Lizzie clattered on ahead, tripping over a raised flagstone and only narrowly saving herself from falling as she clutched the kitchen doorpost.

  ‘You’ll break your neck one day, you silly girl,’ Cook said crossly. ‘What did Madam want?’

  Lizzie stuck her thumb in her mouth, glancing anxiously at Judy.

  ‘Mrs Tattersall wants tea for three in the drawing room.’ Judy could see that Lizzie had forgotten her instructions and she set about laying a tray with crockery. ‘Make two pots of tea, please, Lizzie. On second thoughts, I’ll make the tea in case you scald yourself. You can fetch the cake from the larder.’

  Lizzie shambled off, repeating Judy’s words over and over as she went.

  ‘I don’t know why we keep her on,’ Cook said, shaking her head. ‘I’d sack her today if it was up to me.’

  ‘She’s one of seven children and their father worked on the railway.’

  Cook’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Of course, I remember now. Wasn’t he killed in an accident on the track?’

  ‘That’s right. The family are struggling and her mother takes in washing. The children who are old enough do anything they can to earn a penny or two. The small amount that Lizzie takes home, together with her brother’s wages from the Johnsons’ farm, just about keeps them all from the workhouse.’

  Cook lowered her voice to a whisper as Lizzie lumbered out of the pantry carrying a plate of cakes. ‘I’ll make more of an effort, Judy, I really will, but she’s enough to try the patience of a saint.’

  Judy made the tea, laid the tray and cut the cake into dainty slices. ‘There you are, Lizzie. Take this to the drawing room.’ She gazed down at the toecaps of Lizzie’s brother’s boots peeping out from beneath the grey cotton dress, and she changed her mind. ‘I’ll carry it as far as the drawing room and you can take over from there. Follow me.’

  ‘Yes, miss.’ Lizzie licked a crumb of cake from the corner of her mouth and chuckled. ‘That’s good, but I only took a little pinch, Cook. I never stuck me finger in it.’

  Cook rolled her eyes and turned away to stir a pan on the range. Judy picked up the tray and headed for the drawing room. ‘Don’t trip over anything,’ she said in a low voice when they reached the door. ‘Put the tray on the tea table beside the sofa and leave Madam to pour. Have you got that, Lizzie?’

  ‘Of course I have. Do you think I’m stupid, or something?’

  Judy ignored this and knocked and waited for an answer. ‘Just try not to spill anything.’ Judy opened the door and stood aside. She crossed her fingers as she walked away. If there was a god of clumsy girls, Lizzie needed his help now.

  Judy related this episode to Jack a little later when she took him tea and cake. He listened quietly to her description of Lizzie’s antics and then he laughed. She could have hugged him with delight, but she resisted the temptation. This was a normal conversation after the fiasco of the outing in the wheelchair, and she felt a little more hopeful. She was tempted to ask him what the doctors had said, but thought it best to leave him to tell her in his own good time. She waited until he had drunk his tea and eaten a slice of cake, hoping to resume the conversation, but he lapsed into silence and turned his head away to stare out of the window. The brief interlude had cheered her temporarily, but now Jack seemed to be slipping back into the dark world of depression. There was little she could do other than to make him as comfortable as possible, and leave him to rest.

  Downstairs, she was on her way to the drawing room to see if Mary wanted anything when she met Dr Godfrey in the hallway.

  ‘I was looking for you, Judy. You left us rather abruptly.’

  ‘It’s difficult, sir.’ Judy dropped her gaze. His charming smile invited confidences, but she was wary of saying too much.

  ‘I can see that,’ he said gently. ‘I know a little of your history, and Nick explained how Mrs Tattersall came to be mistress of Creek Manor. It’s an incredible tale, worthy of gothic novel.’

  Judy looked up and met his humorous gaze with a giggle. ‘I don’t think Mrs Tattersall would appreciate that, Doctor.’

  ‘Are you coming, Ben?’ Dr Neville strolled up to them. ‘I have a couple of calls to make on my way home. I’d value your opinion.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Dr Godfrey turned back to Judy with a smile. ‘There’s very little I can do for Jack. I’m afraid it’s a matter of time and, of course, the good care he’s receiving, but if you need someone to talk to, or if I can be of help in any way, you can reach me at the hospital.’

  ‘Goodbye, Judy,’ Dr Neville said affably. ‘You know you can send for me at any time. If I don’t see you before, I’ll see you at your mother’s wedding. It’s the talk of the village.’

  ‘Really?’ Judy stared at him nonplussed. ‘I don’t see why.’

  Dr Neville looked away. ‘Don’t take any notice of the gossips, Judy.’

  ‘What are they saying? I want to know.’

  He shot her a sideways glance. ‘Oh, you know the type of
thing. They talk about the curse of Creek Manor, no doubt referring to the days when the old squire was here and the goings-on then, and the fact that Jay abandoned Daisy on their wedding day. You know the rest. It’s all nonsense, of course. I’m sure that your mother’s wedding will go off smoothly.’

  Chapter Seven

  Judy took the small posy of rosebuds and forget-me-nots from her mother and went to sit beside Molly in the front pew. They exchanged watery smiles as the Reverend John Peabody intoned the words of the marriage service, and Judy took her handkerchief from the pocket of her new gown, fashioned by Miss Creedy’s clever hands. She wiped her eyes and at an insistent tug at her sleeve from Molly, she passed her the hanky. Molly might be bright and beautiful, but to Judy’s knowledge her sister had never in her whole life had a hanky when she needed one. She glanced at Pip and Nate, who were looking uncomfortable in their Sunday best, and Nate kept running his finger around the inside of his starched white collar, his ruddy cheeks turning scarlet from the heat.

  Judy could see that both her brothers were hot and uncomfortable and eager for the wedding ceremony to be over so that they could get on with the party. She smiled to herself and felt better. Things would soon get back to normal, although quite how she would get on with her new stepfather was an unknown. She liked Wilfred Faulkner well enough, but she had seen slight changes in his demeanour over the past few weeks. He had always been pleasant enough, but recently she had seen another side to his character. Wilfred did not like to be crossed, and he had shown signs of being possessive towards Hilda that Judy did not appreciate. He had sworn that he would not come between a mother and her children, but Judy was not so sure. Wilfred had already made it clear that Nate and Pip would be expected to remain in their quarters above the tack room. He had stated in no uncertain terms that he expected Hilda to spend more time at home after they were married, although he had not forbidden her to work for Mary. However, Judy had the uncomfortable feeling that this would happen sooner or later. Even so, one look at her mother’s happy face as Wilfred slipped the ring on her finger was enough to convince Judy that her worries were groundless. The main thing was for Ma to have a good life with the man she loved, and Wilfred had promised to love and honour her, so all Judy could hope for was that he was a man of his word.