Every Mother's Son (12 page)

‘Thank you, George,’ Charles acknowledged. ‘That’s most kind of you.’ He felt the most tremendous surge of elation, and couldn’t wait to return to visit the Tukes and tell Daniel the amazing news.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

At lunch the next day Charles suggested to Christopher and Melissa that maybe they could have a discussion with Daniel’s parents and decide on the best time to travel abroad. ‘I was going to suggest setting off in the spring,’ he said nonchalantly. ‘As I’m not going to university I could finish school at Easter. Or …’ he paused, ‘I don’t really need to go back after Christmas.’

‘Yes, you do,’ his father said, and by the tone of his voice Charles knew that that was the end of the matter. ‘What would you do at home if you didn’t go back?’

Plan the itinerary, Charles was going to suggest, but saw his mother’s raised eyebrows and a negative shake of her head and decided not to mention it. ‘Unless there’s anything I can help you with, Father?’

‘Not a great deal to be done in winter,’ his father mumbled. ‘Bailiff’s got everything in hand.’

‘You won’t need a bailiff when I finish school,’ Stephen ventured. ‘I’ll be able to do what he does.’

‘Nonsense,’ his father said. ‘There’s always a need for a bailiff at the helm on an estate of this size.’

Stephen didn’t comment. Now wasn’t the time; there were enough kettles on the fire with Charles planning on going away. He was pretty sure that Charles wouldn’t want to come back to farming, but it was all he wanted. In a few years he hoped to be running the estate, and when his father retired he would choose his own workers and do things quite differently from him.

‘So when will the Tukes come?’ Beatrice asked innocently; she had been allowed downstairs as she felt much better, but wore a warm woollen gown and a shawl as the day was sharp despite the sun. She was thinking that when the Tukes did come she might wear her new dress of pale-blue muslin, which nipped in her waist and showed off her neck and shoulder line.

‘I don’t know,’ Charles said. ‘I thought I might ride over to see them this afternoon. Anybody want to come?’ he asked generally. ‘It’s not a bad sort of day.’

‘I might,’ Stephen said, and Beatrice said she’d love some fresh air after being cooped up in bed over the last few days, but George rather studiously said he would look at a map of the Mediterranean.

The three of them changed into their riding outfits, the two young men into breeches, long boots and greatcoats, and Beatrice in her winter riding habit of navy blue with a top hat and veil. Hidden beneath the ankle-length buttoned skirt and jacket she wore a pair of chamois leather breeches.

After leaving their land they decided to quit the roads and were soon climbing the track towards Brantingham village, up the meadow land to Elloughton Dale. They paused at the top of a steep rise and looked down over the Humber.

‘I love it up here,’ Beatrice said softly. ‘See how the estuary glints in the winter sun, and look at the wildfowl, thousands of them! Do you know what they are, Stephen?’

Stephen narrowed his eyes. ‘I can see waders, widgeon, teal and mallard for sure, and I can hear curlew calling. Look.’ He pointed. ‘See them? Long legs – downward-pointing beak? They’re searching out shellfish and worms, and there are redshanks, too – there, with the long red legs; they’re part of the same family as the curlew, with similar characteristics.’

‘I’m impressed by your knowledge, Stephen,’ Charles said, and as he spoke a large flock of geese flew overhead, making their distinctive croaking cry.

‘Pink-footed!’ Stephen cried out joyously. ‘They come from Iceland, you know, to spend the winter here.’

‘Come on,’ Charles told them. ‘Let’s be going. We don’t want to be travelling back in the dark.’

‘It’s getting colder, too,’ Beatrice said, giving a little shudder, and dug in her heels to urge her mount on.

They clattered into the farmyard and Harriet came to the door. ‘Oh, come in, come in,’ she said. ‘How good to see you, but you’re one missing!’

‘George,’ Beatrice said, unwrapping her scarves and hat as she entered the house. ‘He’s become a swot since he was told how clever he is, but I expect he’ll get over it.’

‘Cup of tea?’ Harriet offered. ‘Or cocoa?’

‘Cocoa,’ they all chanted. ‘How lovely.’

‘Where is everyone?’ Beatrice asked. ‘Is this not a convenient time, Mrs Tuke?’

‘They’ll be in any minute for a hot drink,’ Harriet said. ‘They’re onny doing jobs round about ’barn and sheds. Sit down, do. Ah, here’s Dolly.’

Dolly dipped her knee and glanced curiously at Stephen. Maria had told her how friendly he’d been when she had met him at the twins’ party and she wondered if maybe she would be invited to the next one.

‘How do you do, Dolly. Have we met before?’ Stephen asked, leading up to a question about Maria, but her mother interrupted.

‘Not for a while, I think,’ she said.

‘And where’s Maria?’ Stephen asked determinedly. ‘I haven’t seen her in ages.’

‘Maria works now,’ Harriet said. ‘She has a position as a parlourmaid in Brough. She’s coming home tomorrow.’

She saw the disappointment on Stephen’s face. Charles saw it too and gave a small frown. ‘I hope she’s enjoying her independence, Mrs Tuke?’ he said.

‘She’s not,’ Dolly butted in. ‘She’d rather be at home and I’d rather be there!’

‘Can’t you swap, then?’ Stephen asked.

‘No,’ Harriet said for her. ‘Dolly’s not leaving home just yet. She’s too giddy,’ she added affectionately. ‘I need her where I can keep an eye on her.’ She smiled as Dolly shrugged.

Daniel came in as they were sipping their cocoa and expressed surprise and pleasure at seeing them all, his gaze resting on Beatrice as he said he hoped she was feeling better. ‘And George?’ he enquired as his mother had done. ‘Didn’t he want to come?’

‘He’s plotting our route,’ Charles laughed. ‘But as we haven’t said where we’re heading I rather think he’s choosing somewhere for himself. But the real reason why we’re here is that I wanted to tell you that my father has given his consent to my travelling!’

‘And did you tell him that I was going?’ Daniel asked; he was certain that Mr Hart would rather have one of Charles’s school friends accompany him.

Charles beamed. ‘I told him that under a great deal of pressure and persuasion you had agreed to come along as bearer.’

‘No, he didn’t!’ Beatrice exploded. ‘Don’t be such a terrible snob, Charles.’ She stopped. ‘Even if you were joking,’ she added, wondering if she’d made a complete fool of herself.

Daniel laughed. ‘It’s all right, Beatrice, I know Charles’s warped sense of humour.’

‘Even so,’ she muttered, embarrassed now. ‘Other people might think him serious.’

‘I didn’t mean to—’ Charles stopped. What had got into Beatrice? She knew him better than anybody. She surely knew he wouldn’t ever, nor let anyone else, make a snide remark about Daniel. He glanced at her flushed face and then at Daniel looking awkward and he suddenly understood.

He recalled her asking if he thought she might be considered beautiful and he’d told her to ask Daniel – and she’d got cross. She’s more than fond of him as a friend, and he is more than fond of her. Golly, he thought. What’s Father going to make of that?

Charles was wise enough to acknowledge that any infatuation between his sister and his friend could quite easily fizzle out as she met more people and potential admirers; as for himself, he couldn’t wait to be away from home and meet young ladies simply for the pleasure of their company, rather than have his parents size them up as suitable marriage partners. It surely should be possible, he thought, to have conversation with females without there being any implication or significance construed.

Charles listened to the chatter going on around him, but darker thoughts were running through his mind for he had worries of another kind. They became stronger each time he came to visit Daniel and saw Fletcher, who had just now appeared through the kitchen door. I’d never noticed the likeness before, but my eyes were opened that day at the harvest when I saw Fletcher Tuke coming towards me and thought I saw a younger version of my father. A pure coincidence, I expect; but his height, his fair hair – although Father is very grey now – his eye colouring and most of all his bearing, his way of walking tall and proud, is the same.

He could be related to someone way back, I suppose, maybe coming down the family line from one of my grandfather’s brothers or cousins. I don’t recall any being mentioned, but that’s what it will be, he decided, nothing more than that, for families often look alike. Nevertheless, he was a little anxious about Stephen’s taking an interest in Maria Tuke, for if there was a link between Fletcher and the Hart family then any liaison, no matter that it came to nothing, was better nipped in the bud.

He shifted in his chair and glanced round the cosy kitchen and all of them clustered around the table. But then, my father and possibly my mother wouldn’t think any relationship between our families would be suitable, not Beatrice and Daniel, not Stephen and Maria. Quite out of the question, I should imagine. And could Daniel keep Beatrice in the manner to which she is accustomed? Could Maria become the wife of a country gentleman? How ridiculous you are, he chastised himself. None of this is going to happen. You’re thinking like a fool.

The conversation had drifted along without him and he had simply nodded his head from time to time as if listening, until Beatrice said, ‘I think we ought to be leaving, it’s getting late.’ She stood up and put on her hat and scarf. ‘I hope we haven’t held you up, Mrs Tuke. Thank you so much for the hot drink; we’re well fortified for the journey home.’

They all stood up. ‘It’s been very nice to see you all,’ Harriet said. ‘I hope you can come again before you return to Switzerland, Miss Beatrice.’

‘That would be lovely,’ Beatrice said. ‘But will you not be coming to us to discuss the arrangements for Daniel and Charles’s journey? Please do.’ She smiled. ‘I want to hear about it before I go. I don’t want to be left out. Charles, you’ll arrange it with Papa, won’t you?’

Charles cleared his throat. ‘Yes, yes of course. Some time in January. Will that be all right?’

Fletcher amiably agreed. ‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘Couldn’t be better. We’ll be able to think about it over Christmas, eh, Daniel?’ He put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. ‘Mek plans?’

What’s going on? Daniel thought. Why’s Da so hearty and Charles so uncomfortable? ‘Yes, good timing,’ he nodded. ‘We’ll fix a day afore you all go away.’ He glanced at Charles and grinned. ‘Spot on, old chap!’

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The families celebrated Christmas in their different ways. Harriet cooked the Christmas goose, helped by Granny Rosie and Maria, who was pleased to be at home. Her mother told her to take it easy and put her feet up, but she insisted that she wanted to help.

‘I’m comfortable now with Mrs Topham,’ she said. ‘She’s used to me and I am to her; she’s very kind and I’m more of a companion than a maid, for I sometimes read to her, or serve her tea and cake, and her cook and ’other maid do most of ’other jobs, although I always offer.’

Harriet was delighted to have Maria at home, even for a short time, but thought that she had been right to send her into service. Maria seemed less shy and reserved and was more mature than she had been.

There were ten of them around the table, including Rosie and Tom, and once more Harriet gave silent thanks for her precious loving family. She gazed at Fletcher and, not wanting to cast a shadow over the day, didn’t mention his mother Ellen, alone in her cottage by Brough Haven, who had once again refused an invitation to spend Christmas Day with them.

The Harts managed with a smaller staff than usual. Melissa believed that everyone should have a chance of going home at some point during the holiday if they wanted to. Cook prepared and cooked Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas Day luncheon; she said that she couldn’t trust anyone else to do it as well as she could. After luncheon she was taken by trap to visit her sister who lived in Brantingham and came back on the following day. Two young maids had Christmas Day off, returning late that evening, but Dora, Melissa’s personal maid, had no family in the district, so she, a kitchen maid and the housekeeper, who had known Melissa since she was young, stayed behind and kept Nanny Mary company.

‘Everyone in service should work for a family like ’Harts,’ Mary said over her second glass of sherry. She took a small sip. ‘I feel quite guilty sometimes that there are no small children for me to look after.’ She sighed. ‘But not so guilty that I should ever consider leaving. I think I earn my keep with supervising ’laundry and doing ’patching and stitching and ironing mistress’s gowns, although I admit I haven’t got as good a hand as Harriet Tuke. I’ve never seen such beautiful collars and ironed tucks and pleats as she used to turn out. And of course I listen to the young folk who come to ask me things that they wouldn’t ask their mama.’

‘Like what?’ Dora asked curiously.

‘Ah, well.’ Mary took another sip. ‘That’d be telling.’

Charles considered her to be a sort of cosy grandmother, for he hadn’t known either of his own. Nanny Mary had a warm and welcoming room. There was always a fire with a rug in front of it, where as a small boy he used to stretch out without any censure, either drawing or reading or even just lying on his back daydreaming with his hands clasped behind his head. Her kettle was always simmering on the fire and she made the children drinks, and magically always had cake or biscuits ready and waiting in a tin.

‘Have you heard that I’m going travelling, Nanny?’ Charles asked her on Boxing Day morning. He took up too much room now to lie on the floor but she had a squashy armchair that he favoured.

‘Aye,’ she said, taking a cake tin out of a cupboard whilst waiting for the kettle to boil. ‘I reckon I did hear a rumour.’

‘It’s no rumour,’ he declared. ‘It’s official. I’m being allowed to go. I’ve decided not to go to university just yet and I’m going on a European tour, and do you know who else is coming?’

‘I can’t imagine,’ she said, pouring the boiling water on to the tea leaves, although in fact she had already heard through Beatrice. ‘Am I allowed to know?’