Saraband for Two Sisters (29 page)

‘I called out and he didn’t answer. He ran.’

‘He knew he’d no right to be in them woods, that’s what. Why, you look really scared. There’s nothing to fear from Strawberry John.’

I had explored the gardens and I wanted to go farther afield. I knew that I was supposed not to go riding beyond the paddock, but I was thinking a great deal about Bersaba, who had often gone out riding alone, so I decided I could come to no harm and one day I set out.

I took a different route from the one I had taken with Richard, and rode on through pleasant lanes for about three miles when I came to a farmhouse. It was large and comfortable-looking with stone walls and a tiled roof. Close by were several small cottages and they all seemed part of the farm estate.

I approached with interest, for it struck me that the owners of the farm must be our nearest neighbours. As I stood there a woman came out of the house, went to the well to draw water and, seeing me on horseback, she called a greeting.

There was something familiar about her and she certainly noticed the same about me, for she approached, looking at me curiously.

Then I recognized her. She was Ella Longridge, the sister of the man whom Richard had challenged to a duel.

‘Why,’ she cried, ‘we have met before.’

‘You are Mistress Longridge, I believe.’

‘And you are the new mistress of Far Flamstead. We met at a ball …’

‘I remember it well. You and your brother were together there, and there was an unfortunate incident.’

‘It was satisfactorily settled,’ she said. ‘You are riding alone?’

‘Yes. My husband is away on military matters and I have grown tired of keeping within bounds and had no wish to bring a groom with me.’

‘Would you care to come in a while? My brother is out, but he would not wish me to be inhospitable.’

‘It’s kind of you. I should greatly like to do so.’

I dismounted and tethered my horse to a post near the mounting-block and went with her into the farmhouse.

I noticed the simplicity of her grey gown, and she wore a white collar and white apron. Her shoes were strong and serviceable and her hair taken back from her brow in the plainest of styles.

We were in a large kitchen with an open fireplace at one end and a long refectory table with benches for seats and two armchairs at either end. On a dresser were pewter vessels, and hanging from chains over the fireplace was a large black pot in which something savoury was cooking; from the wall oven came the appetizing smell of baking.

I said I was surprised to find that we were neighbours.

‘Our families were very friendly at one time,’ said Ella Longridge, ‘but differences arose and you saw the climax at the ball. My brother had not so openly expressed his disapproval of certain matters before and your husband took exception to his view. It may well be that he would not wish you to come here, but shall we say this is a meeting between two women who do not care so ardently for the quarrels of men.’

She looked round the farmhouse and said: ‘You see we live simply here. My brother manages the farm but that is not his only occupation. He was a Member of Parliament and writes papers on political matters. I fear sometimes he is too outspoken; he was never one to consider the effect of his words.’

I could not help liking Ella Longridge, and the thought of having her as a near neighbour lifted my spirits considerably, for I was realizing how lonely I had been.

She went to the oven and brought out a batch of little pies, golden brown and looking appetizing.

‘We will sample them while they are hot from the oven, and if you would care for it I will give you some of our homebrewed ale.’

She put the ale from a cask into two pewter mugs and set them on the table. Then she took two of the hot pies and placed them on platters.

‘It is not every day that I have a visitor,’ she said.

‘We are very near neighbours.’

‘By a short cut we are a mile and a half from each other, and our farm land extends almost to the grounds of Far Flamstead.’

‘Have you lived here long?’ I asked, sipping the delicious ale.

‘All our lives. We have a residence in London which Luke used when he was a Member of Parliament. He is always hoping that this state of affairs will end, and he with others is working to that purpose. But we are of the land, farming stock, and sometimes I think it would have been better for Luke if he had not dabbled in politics. It can be a dangerous game in such times as these.’

‘We seem far removed from all that in Cornwall.’

‘Luke seems to think that the storm that is brewing will envelope the whole country—even the most remote areas.’

I shivered. ‘I hate conflict. My mother used to say that our family had suffered a great deal from it in the past.’

‘All families have, I imagine. But the country is in a sorry state, Luke says. There are too many people bent on enjoying what they call the good things of life. They should live more simply.’

‘As you do,’ I said. ‘These pies are very good.’

‘I do most of the baking myself. We have but two maidservants in the house. Of course there are several people working on the farm. I will show you later if you would like to see. There are the brew-house, where this ale is made, and the dairy, the woodstack barns, the cattle sheds, and we have a separate bake-house, for there are many to feed.’

‘You work very hard, Mistress Longridge.’

‘I am content in my work, for it is that to which I have been called.’

She asked me questions then about my family, the reason for my coming to London, and about my marriage. I found it pleasant to have someone to talk to.

And when we had eaten and drunk she showed me the farmhouse; we ascended the wooden staircase and went through a number of rooms, some of which led into each other; they all had the heavy oak beams and small leaded windows, and all were fresh and clean, though rather sparsely furnished.

I said I should go now as they might well be wondering where I had been and would be alarmed if I did not return in time for dinner.

Ella then said that she would not detain me, but if I wished to call again I should be very welcome. She had few friends in the country because Luke had upset so many of them by his views and it seemed that most of the people they had known were in opposition to him.

As I was about to mount my horse Luke Longridge himself rode up. He was astonished to see me and like his sister he recognized me at once.

‘So we have a visitor,’ he said, dismounting and bowing to me.

‘It was a surprise call. Mistress Tolworthy was riding by and paused to look at the farm, so recognizing her I invited her in.’

‘You are welcome,’ said Luke. I immediately noticed his plain dark doublet and breeches and hair which was cut close to his head, quite different from the fashion.

‘I was just about to leave, as I did not want them to be anxious about me.’

‘You rode here alone?’ he asked.

‘Yes. It is not far and I did not want a groom to accompany me.’

‘And your husband?’

‘He is away from home and has been for some weeks.’

‘You must allow me to take you home,’ he said.

I could not refuse such an offer. Moreover, I was interested in him and I felt I should be civil to him because I had always thought that Richard had provoked him on that occasion when I had first met the Longridges.

He mounted his horse and we rode off together.

I said I had had no idea that we were such near neighbours.

‘We have been so all our lives.’

I thought it was no use pretending I did not remember his and Richard’s disagreement, so I said: ‘I am glad you did not fight my husband.’

‘It was a challenge given in the heat of the moment. I should not care to shed blood over such a trivial matter. I think General Tolworthy realized that later, for he accepted the situation.’

‘People become ardent over matters which seem important to them. My husband is in the King’s army and he is naturally completely loyal to His Majesty.’

‘And it is right that he should be. But a country can be more important than its king.’

‘I have always thought of them as one: King and Country.’

‘That is as it should be. I trust General Tolworthy will not object to your calling at the farmhouse.’

‘I am sure he would not.’

‘When he returns you must tell him that my sister invited you in and that I escorted you home.’

‘Yes, of course I shall.’

‘It might be that he will object to such neighbourliness.’

‘I am sure he would be pleased for me to have friends so near since he has so often to be away from home.’

‘We shall see. And if that is the case my sister will be delighted with your friendship.’

‘And I with hers. It has been a most interesting morning.’

Far Flamstead had now come into sight and he said he would leave me.

He bowed, and I knew that he waited and watched until he saw me ride into the stables.

Soon after that I began to suspect that I was pregnant. I wasn’t sure, of course, and it may be that I wished for this so fervently that I imagined it was so. I used to sit in the Castle Room and dream about the child and thought: This time next year it will be here—that’s if it is so.

I was a little absentminded and of course this began to be noticed. I caught Mrs Cherry looking at me intently, and once when I went into the kitchen she was whispering with Grace and Meg, and as the whispering stopped abruptly as I entered I guessed they were discussing me, for while Mrs Cherry retained her rotund cheerfulness the other two looked a little embarrassed.

When she was doing my hair Meg asked me if I felt well.

‘Of course,’ I answered. ‘Why do you ask? Don’t I look well?’

‘Oh yes, my lady, you look very well … but different.’

‘How different?’ I asked sharply.

She was again embarrassed.

‘Well, we was wondering, my lady … I hope it’s not out of place, but, you see, being as it was in the family … we got noticing things.’

‘Really, Meg,’ I said, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

She hung her head and looked very uncomfortable, and because I insisted on her telling me what she meant she said: ‘Well, it would be lovely to have a little baby in the house. It’s what we’d all look forward to.’

I felt myself flushing scarlet. ‘But what makes you think …’

‘It was Grace, my lady.’

‘Grace!’

‘Well, you see, she learned it from my mother and she was going to be one herself. She does now when she’s needed … roundabouts, you know. If anyone wants her. She’s got a natural way for it.’

‘Really, Meg,’ I said, ‘I haven’t the faintest notion of what you are talking about.’

‘Our mother was a midwife, my lady, and she taught Grace all she knew. Grace would have been the same, only we came here and she has other duties. I reckon she earns her keep as I’m sure you’ll agree …’

‘I do, but what about Grace?’

‘Well, Grace has second sight you might say, my lady, where babies is concerned, and she reckons that you’re what she might call in the family way, if you’ll excuse the expression to a lady.’

‘How could Grace know?’

‘Well, she always says that people change when they get that way … no matter who they be, and she says she’d take a wager on it, my lady.’

I said: ‘Grace may be right. I shall hope so.’

Meg smiled, very well content.

As the days passed I began to feel Grace’s insight had not failed her.

August would soon be with us. The wheatfields of the Longridge Farm were already changing colour and were now a golden brown, and the barley and oats and his root crops made a patchwork quilt of the land—yellow, white, blue, green and purple. Mine was not a poetic nature, but I told myself that the whole earth was symbolically fruitful.

How I longed for a child! In my mind I talked to my mother and Bersaba, but I was afraid to write to them for fear I should be wrong.

However, I couldn’t resist talking to knowledgeable Grace.

‘Grace,’ I said, ‘I’m almost sure.’

‘Oh my lady,’ she answered, ‘I
am
sure.’

‘I feel so excited about it.’

‘Bringing little lives into the world is the most exciting thing in life, my lady.’

‘Yes, I believe it is.’

‘Ain’t no doubt about it, my lady.’ She came close to me and looked into my face. Then she laid her hands on me.

‘I’d say ‘tis just about two months, my lady. There’s some as takes to breeding like the flowers to rain. It’ll be an easy birth, I can promise you. You’ve got that sort of figure for it. Little waist and big hips—like an hour-glass—and that’s good for babies.’

‘You’re very comforting, Grace.’

‘Oh, I know my business. There’s not a child of eight and under in Longridge Cottages who wasn’t brought into the world by me—and them that’s older was brought in by my mother. You can rely on me. I’ll be beside you all through.’

‘Of course it’s very early days yet.’

‘Don’t you fret, my lady. The baby’s here all right. I don’t have a shadow of a doubt. My mother was the finest midwife in the country and she taught me all she knew. She was well thought of. The highest ladies in the land knew they couldn’t do better than have her in attendance. She always believed in being there a day or more before she was needed. None of that last-minute arrival on the scene if she could help it. A lot of harm could be done before she arrived. She was ready a week before …’

Grace stopped suddenly and I said quickly: ‘She attended the General’s first wife, then?’

‘’Tweren’t her fault the poor lady died. She said before that it were no ordinary confinement. She were very weak and my mother knew there wasn’t a hope for her, but she did all she could for her. All her skill she used … ’Tweren’t no good. The best midwife in the world can’t go against fate. Oh, she were different from you. You’re a fine strong healthy lady. No need to think of her …’

‘I’d like to know more about her, Grace.’

Grace’s mouth was tightly shut. ‘I reckon you don’t want to go getting fancies, my lady. You want to think about your own dear little baby. Why, I reckon next April you’ll be holding that little ’un in your arms and calling him the masterpiece of creation.’