Destitute On His Doorstep (11 page)

For a fleeting second an expression she did not understand flashed through his eyes, then was gone. ‘It was not for want of trying on my part, I assure you. We are not all as fortunate as you and your kin.' His voice was thickly edged with irony, his cool eyes resting on her face without a trace of self-pity.

As she regarded him, Jane felt a stirring of respect. ‘I am not so fortunate now.' Food and drink as always had their effect. The atmosphere mellowed a little as the evening progressed, but the tension inside Jane was unappeased. Because she had made up her mind that she
wasn't under any circumstances going to be ignored or condescended to, she joined in the conversation, smiling and talking about anything that occurred to her, while maintaining a cool and formal manner.

The meal was almost over when Richard turned to his brother in serious vein and said, ‘You can't imagine how relieved we are to have you back with us, Francis. Alice insisted I keep her abreast of the battles in which you were engaged and was most concerned when you failed to come home immediately after Worcester. The awareness that you were constantly in the midst of conflicts in which so many lives were lost filled her with an enormous dread.'

‘Then I am mortified that I might have been the cause of any suffering you might have felt, Alice,' Francis replied, glancing a smile at the simpering young woman on his left.

‘Lives were lost on both sides,' Jane pointed out sharply. ‘Good, honest Englishmen, fighting for what they believed to be right—be it for Parliament or the King. We must never forget that.' In spite of the distance between them, she could feel the heat of the glare that smouldered in Alice's green eyes. It hinted strongly of an unreasonable jealousy that revolved around her. Several times throughout the meal she had looked directly into the woman's eyes and smiled in an attempt to make some kind of contact, but though Alice had returned her smile, it was malicious and her eyes continued to pass judgement.

‘You are right, Jane,' Elizabeth interceded lightly. ‘Far too many fine Englishmen died and will be for ever in our thoughts and prayers. But enough of this talk of
war. It is over, and I for one thank the Lord for it. This is not, after all, a political occasion, but a celebration that we are all together at last—albeit without Walter, but no doubt he will find his way home in time. Actually today's ride from our home was my dear husband's first since the physician pronounced him fit to mount a horse. Is that not so, Richard?'

‘It is, indeed, and I have to say that it feels good to be back in the saddle.'

‘Then it would seem I couldn't have picked a better time to invite you to Bilborough, Richard,' Francis said to his brother. ‘Tomorrow I shall enjoy showing you the estate—and I have some fine horses I think you will be interested in seeing. Several mares have foaled and others are due any time. All in all the stud is prospering. I have some good quality horses—two of the stallions from our father's stable, which were from good breeding stock. When I made it known that the Russell strain was still being bred, some of the horses sold at excellent prices. I have orders for future sales.'

‘Father would have been glad to know that. Horses were important to him. You are like him, Francis.'

Observing the ease with which Francis played the host at her father's table, Jane asked herself what was this extraordinary aura that this man had? He was like a monarch, she thought. His eyes seemed to possess a comprehensive intelligence—above all there was about him an astonishing sense of power. He had perfect manners, yet he said and did exactly as he liked, and everyone obeyed him.

Around him people who had lost everything in the war that had racked the country for ten long and
miserable years were struggling to bring back some kind of normality to their lives, to put their houses in order and put food on the tables for their families, while Francis prospered. For though aged no more than thirty, Francis Russell had grown accustomed to the idea that if he chose, there was almost nothing he could not do. This knowledge when combined with intelligence, could make even the son of a horse breeder into a prince.

When there was a break in the conversation, Alice fixed Jane with a sly look. ‘What made you leave Bilborough, Jane? I seem to recall it had something to do with your stepmother. Indeed, at the time the whole of Avery was humming with talk of her being a witch.'

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the table. Elizabeth shot her sister an angry look of disapproval, while Francis merely looked at Jane and raised his eyebrows, challenging her to respond to Alice's provoking words. It only took a moment for him to realise she would do just that, for with a ready wit and an amused and cynical smile, Jane threw back her head and met Alice's challenge head on.

‘That is quite right, Alice. What a good memory you have. They did say that Gwen, my stepmother, was a witch,' she said, widening her smile. ‘But my father was an important man in Avery so they didn't say it too loud.'

Her answer drew laughter from Francis and Richard, which was fuel to Alice's ire. ‘If my memory serves me well, your father was no longer around when the accusations were made. Are you saying there was no truth in the accusations?' she persisted.

‘Of course there wasn't.'

‘And she didn't spend her time poking about under bushes and crawling on the ground?'

‘She did—most days. She was very knowledgeable about plants and herbs and their medicinal uses—as are a lot of women, but that doesn't make them witches.'

‘A lot of people said she was,' Alice argued petulantly. ‘After all, everyone knows there are both good and bad properties to be found in plants—especially one that can get rid of an unborn, unwanted child.'

Apart from a hardening in her eyes, Jane's expression remained unchanged. ‘What are you saying, Alice? What are you accusing her of?'

‘Did your stepmother not supply a woman—Mrs Cooper, her name was—with such a drug which, if given too late, kills not only the unborn child but the person as well?'

‘No she did not, but unfortunately my stepmother was blamed for it. I remember Mrs Cooper and I know from what her husband said in his grief afterwards that she wanted the child. She became ill after eating something that disagreed with her, which brought on her labour early, killing both her and the child. It had nothing to do with Gwen. When Mrs Cooper asked Gwen if she could give her something to help her sleep, she was given nothing more harmful than a chamomile infusion.'

‘Everyone believed it was something more than that. Wasn't that the reason why you fled Bilborough so suddenly because she was about to be questioned about Mrs Cooper's death, and that she was afraid of being charged with witchcraft?'

‘Yes—which was quite ridiculous but true. Somehow it came to the attention of Mr Fraser—who as you all
know was as detestable as Mr Matthew Hopkins, who had been busy persecuting women in and around Essex a couple of years earlier. Like Mr Hopkins, Mr Fraser was also a self-appointed witchfinder who used the turmoil of the war to his advantage to torture and kill many innocent women. Had Gwen fallen into his hands, she would have found it impossible to prove her innocence and he would have killed her also.'

‘Mr Fraser was paid handsomely by the local magistrates, who let him do his work unmolested for fear his eye would fall upon them,' Francis provided. ‘So without any challenge from local authorities, he was allowed to ride roughshod over this part of East Anglia for a couple of years. There was no legal counter-argument against the charge of witchcraft. I believe the man died in '51, shortly after his last hanging.'

‘I suppose that could be seen as retribution on behalf of all the women he murdered,' Jane said, smiling at him.

‘Some would say their deaths were justified, since they all bore the devil's mark in one way or another—and kept a dog or a cat,' Alice remarked haughtily.

‘Aye, and so do most people. Boils and birthmarks and any such mark are common enough—and cats and dogs. I have a dog—and Francis has two,' Jane pointed out, meeting Francis's amused gaze with a teasing smile, ‘which makes him doubly cursed.'

Having heard quite enough and afraid of where Alice's questions might lead, when her irate sister opened her mouth to make further comment, Elizabeth said, ‘Enough, Alice. All this talk of witchcraft will upset Jane.' Over the years, Elizabeth had tried her best
to curb the excesses of her sister's malice, but to no avail. Alice was selfish enough and conceited enough to try to make a fool of anyone she took a dislike to, and it was plain she had taken a dislike to Jane who, in Elizabeth's opinion, was undeserving of such rudeness.

Jane glanced at Elizabeth and smiled broadly. ‘It's all right, Elizabeth. I don't mind. It's a long time ago now and forgotten.'

‘People have long memories,' Alice retorted acidly. ‘Some never forget.'

Jane gave her a look of patient indulgence. ‘No, I'm sure you're right, Alice, and there is nothing I can do about that. I used to help Gwen with her herb gathering, which made me something of a herb woman. I suppose you could say that made me an accomplice.'

Alice shrugged. ‘Only you can answer that. So where will you live now, since Bilborough is no longer your home? You will have to live somewhere, and it is inconceivable for you to continue living here.'

‘Why do you say that?' Jane asked calmly.

‘Why—with Francis alone, of course. At least there should be someone else present. It is hardly proper for the two of you to be here alone.'

‘You have no need to fear, Alice,' Francis said with a trace of sarcasm. ‘Jane has been ill. I haven't ravished her in her helpless state.'

Alice was nettled by his mockery. ‘I wasn't implying that you had. But, really, Francis, you know how the gossips are. Your character would be lambasted from here to London if it were known that the two of you are living together—in a manner of speaking, of course.'

A mildly tolerant smile lifted a corner of his lips. ‘Of
course. But you are here now, Alice—you and Elizabeth—so that should silence the gossips.'

‘I am sure it will, although it was indeed generous of Francis to offer you his hospitality while you have been indisposed,' Alice said, looking at Jane once more. ‘However, I can understand how awkward this situation must be for you, and now you are feeling better, I am sure you will soon find somewhere else to live.'

It was said in a tone designed to put Jane in her place. Already she felt a strong aversion to Alice, as she disliked all women when they were assured and tried to manipulate and insult her. So she ignored the tone and said impulsively, ‘I already have. Francis has kindly offered me our old steward's house here at Bilborough until I have settled my circumstances. For the present I have decided to live there and,' she murmured, glancing sideways at their host, ‘I shall do my best not to be a troublesome neighbour, giving you no cause for complaint.'

Francis took it with a smile that had more than a trace of condescension in it, which Jane found exceedingly irritating.

‘And is there no young man in your life, Jane?' Elizabeth asked, her tone one of consideration rather than interference. Alice's rudeness angered her, and she would make a point of speaking to her about it later. ‘I can't imagine a young woman as pretty as you to be without an admirer.'

Jane smiled across at her. ‘There is no one—although there was once—a long time ago,' she said light-heartedly on remembering a childhood sweetheart, a village boy, who had kissed her cheek and gone off to fight
for King and country without a backward glance or a thought as to how she might feel. ‘I have not heard from him in years and I doubt I shall. The last I heard was that he fought at Worcester. What happened to him after that I really have no idea.'

Francis felt a
frisson
of dislike for this unknown youth who had remained in Jane's affections to this day, even though he knew there was nothing to substantiate his jealous imaginings. His expression did not change, nor did his eyes even flicker in her direction. All he said was, ‘One of Charles Stuart's faithful, I have no doubt. Indeed, then if he survived and escaped the aftermath, he will probably have made his way to France. If not and he has been taken prisoner, then I have heard that Barbados is a pleasant island with a fine climate for those who have an aversion to the English weather.'

His callous remark earned him a withering look from Jane. ‘I sincerely hope that he is in France with Charles Stuart. Better that than transportation, which is Cromwell's brutal solution to dispensing with prisoners.'

‘I have heard that some of London's prisons are still full of Royalist prisoners,' Alice remarked quickly, before Francis could reply. ‘There is a tendency among them to submit to the powers that be, if they are shown leniency.'

Jane received her words with derision. ‘I have not seen any evidence of Royalists becoming reconciled to the Commonwealth, especially among those whose estates were confiscated and put up for sale.'

‘I understand how resentful you must feel but, nevertheless, it was most kind of Francis to invite you to be his guest.' Alice had used all her feminine wiles on
Francis throughout the evening, but had managed to extract nothing from him, for his attention lay in the woman with her high-and-mighty ways and more than a little resentment for her reduced circumstances across the table. ‘You must feel much indebted to him.'

Jane looked across at Alice coldly. She would not be the object of anyone's pity, least of all this woman's with her malicious jealousy. ‘Indebted? Why, I do not feel in the least indebted to Francis. Why should I? Bilborough was my home before it was his, and I
still
consider it to be my home. It is difficult not to.' Shoving back her chair, she rose. ‘Now if you will excuse me, I will retire. I fear I am not yet fully recovered from my recent illness and I can feel a recurrence of a headache.' When Francis gave her no more than a slight inclination of his head, she took a careful breath and looked away from him.