Sons and Daughters (10 page)

‘It’s lovely,’ she whispered at last, ‘but I really should go.’

But for several more minutes she made no move to leave.

As they hurried down the stairs at last, Charlotte could see her father waiting impatiently in the hallway. He scowled up at her, but Georgie explained guilelessly, ‘It was my fault. I made Miss Charlotte stay to finish the game of Ludo. You see – ’ He spread his hands and widened his eyes as if it explained – and excused – everything. ‘I was winning.’

Charlotte saw Miles hide his smile, but her father merely transferred his glare to the boy.

As Wilkins opened the front door, they saw that it was raining hard.

‘You can’t drive home in the pony and trap in this,’ Miles insisted. ‘You’ll get soaked. I’ll get Brewster to drive you home in the motor car. Your pony will be fine in our stables and I won’t take “no” for an answer.’

The Thorntons’ chauffeur drove them home but once inside his own door, Osbert still complained. ‘Noisy contraptions. Don’t you go getting ideas we shall ever have a motor car, girl.’

‘No, Father,’ Charlotte said obediently. But it was not something that worried her. She much preferred riding a horse anyway, even if it was only the pony or one of the huge, cumbersome shires.

And tomorrow, on Georgie’s invitation, she was to visit the manor again.

Her heart lifted with excitement, anticipating the pleasure in store.

‘I won’t be in for lunch today, Mary,’ Charlotte said as they got ready for church the following morning. ‘I’m going over to the manor straight after Sunday school.’

Mary cast her a quizzical look but didn’t ask questions. Charlotte smiled. ‘On Georgie’s invitation. He wants me to see his pony.’

Mary smiled and nodded. ‘That’ll be nice.’ There was a pause before she added, ‘Are you telling your father?’

Charlotte shrugged. ‘I don’t think he’ll notice.’ The remark was made without self-pity, which, to Mary, was remarkable. She couldn’t understand why the girl couldn’t see that she was treated like a servant. Less than a servant, Mary thought bitterly. At least employees got paid, pittance though it was.

Charlotte never took meals with her father but always ate in the kitchen with Mary, Edward and the kitchen maid if there was one. It had always been so. Osbert had never wanted the child at his table and the practice had not changed even now that his daughter was an adult.

Mary sighed. She supposed Charlotte accepted it because she’d never known any different.

‘Right, are we ready?’ Charlotte asked, pulling on her coat and jamming her hat on to her head. ‘Where’s Edward?’

‘He fetched the pony and trap back from the manor first thing this morning, so they’ve gone already.’

‘Oh heck! We’ll be late.’

As usual, the women walked down the long lane together to the church in Ravensfleet. On a normal Sunday, the pews were comfortably full and the Sunday school in the little room at the back of the church was well attended. But at Christmas, Easter and especially at harvest time when the congregation swelled, it threatened to burst at the seams.

‘Your father’s already there,’ Mary panted as they came in sight of the gate.

Charlotte bit her lip but said nothing. Father didn’t like them to be late. He was waiting in the porch, scowling. He opened his mouth to say something, no doubt to berate them, but then his gaze moved beyond them. To her surprise, Charlotte saw him begin to smile as she heard the sound of the motor car from the manor pulling up at the gate.

Briefly, his gaze came back to his daughter. ‘Get inside,’ he snarled. ‘And don’t let this happen again.’

Charlotte’s mouth dropped open. Her father always demanded that she and his servants enter church following meekly in his wake. Yet now he was sending them in ahead whilst he waited to greet the Thornton family.

She glanced at Mary, but she was already marching through the door, a grim expression on her face. As she made to follow, Charlotte looked back over her shoulder to see Georgie wave and begin to run towards her. She hesitated.

‘Get in!’ her father hissed and, raising his stick, hit her across the shoulders. Mortified that the young boy had witnessed his action, Charlotte hurried into the church, her back smarting. Red faced with shame, she sat beside Mary, and bowed her head. She heard quick footsteps coming down the tiled aisle. They stopped beside her and Georgie’s small hand crept into hers.

‘Miss Charlotte,’ he whispered anxiously. ‘Are you all right?’

She took a deep breath. ‘Yes, dear. I’m fine.’

‘Can I sit with you?’

‘Well, yes, but won’t your father—?’

‘Papa won’t mind.’ He grinned mischievously. ‘And you’ll keep me in order, won’t you?’

Despite her humiliation, Charlotte smiled down at him. He was such a dear little imp. Her golden boy. How she wished he really was hers.

He slid in beside her and bowed his head in prayer as he’d been taught to do on taking his place in the church. Charlotte watched him, longing to stroke his blond curls. As the rest of his family passed her and entered their own pew, she caught Miles Thornton’s eyes and raised her eyebrows in a silent question. His glance rested briefly on his small son. He smiled and nodded his approval. But when her father sat down in front of them, Osbert glared round at her and muttered, ‘I’ll see you at home, miss.’

Just as before, Georgie’s tiny hand crept into Charlotte’s and held it tightly all through the service.

‘Papa, Papa.’

Georgie ran down the church path to his father and brothers as they were leaving after the service.

Miles turned. ‘What is it? Aren’t you staying for Sunday school this morning?’

‘Yes, Papa, but last night I invited Miss Charlotte to come back with me afterwards to see my pony. And she’d like to see Midnight, too,’ he said beaming up at Philip. ‘She likes horses.’ He turned back to Miles. ‘May she stay to luncheon, too, Papa?’

‘Of course.’ Miles nodded.

‘Thank you, Papa,’ the boy shouted back over his shoulder as he ran back to Charlotte.

‘Did you really have to invite that dreary creature again, Father?’ Philip muttered. ‘Wasn’t last night enough?’

‘Now, now, Philip,’ Miles admonished gently. ‘Don’t be unkind.’

‘Philip’s always unkind, Father,’ Ben said. Shocked, his father and brother stared at him. ‘Haven’t you noticed?’ He turned away. ‘I think I’ll go to Sunday school too.’

‘Well, well, well,’ Miles murmured, his gaze still on his middle son as he walked away. So, the quiet, shy one of the trio did have some spirit after all. The man felt a warm glow.

‘Huh,’ Philip muttered, his mouth twisting cruelly. ‘The worm turns, does it? He’d better watch it.’

The glow in Miles Thornton’s heart died instantly.

‘So, Ben, have you got a pony or a horse?’

They were sitting in the motor car on their way to the manor after Sunday school had ended.

‘I did have a pony.’ The boy’s eyes were bleak. ‘But he had to be put down just before we moved here.’

‘He was very old and got sick,’ Georgie put in. ‘Father said we shouldn’t let him suffer.’

‘That’s quite right,’ Charlotte said gently. ‘But it doesn’t make it any easier, does it?’

Ben smiled at her.

‘Father promised to get Ben a bigger horse when we moved.’

‘There’s a horse fair at Horncastle. It’s not until August, but that’s only ten weeks or so away.’ Charlotte said. ‘Would you like me to have a word with your father? Tell him about it?’

‘Would you?’ Ben looked up eagerly.

‘Of course.’

The car chugged up the drive and around the side of the house, coming to a halt in the yard.

The boys scrambled out.

‘This way, Miss Charlotte. The stables are this way,’ Georgie said excitedly. ‘Look, Philip’s got Midnight in the training ring.’

They walked through the yard lined with stables on either side to where, beyond it, was an area of open ground. A huge circle was fenced off. In the centre of the circle stood Philip, with a whip in his hand. Near the fence was a magnificent black stallion. Charlotte gasped in horror. The animal was sweating, his eyes wild and frightened. He was snorting and stamping his feet. Every so often he whinnied and reared up on his hind legs.

Philip approached the animal slowly, menace in every step. ‘I’ll teach you to obey me, if it’s the last thing I do,’ he yelled. The horse whinnied again and cantered away. But there was no escape from the circle and the young man, whip in hand at the ready, followed.

Appalled, Charlotte, Ben and Georgie watched as Philip raised his whip and lunged towards Midnight, beating him once, twice, three times on his flank.

‘No – no, Philip. Not like that.’ Lifting her skirt, Charlotte climbed the fence, threw her leg over the top and jumped down inside the ring. She had begun to run towards them when the horse turned towards his attacker and reared, his front hooves pedalling the air. He came down heavily, his left hoof catching Philip on the shoulder and knocking him to the ground.

Charlotte reached the horse and, unafraid, caught hold of the bridle and led him away to the side of the ring, throwing the reins over the top bar of the fence to tether him there. Then she ran back to the inert figure on the ground and fell to her knees beside him. Philip opened his eyes and his face twisted, with both pain and anger. ‘See what you’ve done? Get away from me and mind your own business – ah!’ His words ended in a cry of pain as he tried to raise himself from the ground.

‘Lie still,’ Charlotte commanded and began to feel around the young man’s shoulder.

‘I said, get away from me—’

‘And I told you to lie still and let me help you. I think you’ve dislocated your shoulder.’

‘Oho, a doctor are we now?’ Despite the pain he could still raise a sneer.

A shadow fell across them and Charlotte glanced up to see Eddie Norton, the stable lad at the manor, standing there. ‘You’d do well to listen to her, Master Philip. Miss Charlotte’s clever like that. Knows about animals and bones and such. Not much of a jump to a human.’ His face darkened as he added, ‘At least – not in your case.’

‘Why, you impudent young – ah!’ Again, whatever Philip had been going to say was lost in a pain-ridden yelp.

‘For goodness’ sake, lie still,’ Charlotte said sharply. ‘Eddie – get something to use as a stretcher. We must get him to the house quickly.’

‘Is he all right?’ Georgie’s voice, quavering with fright, called from the other side of the fence as Eddie hurried away. ‘Ben’s gone to fetch Papa.’

‘He’ll be fine,’ Charlotte called back. ‘Don’t worry.’

‘This is all your fault. If you hadn’t come into the ring shouting your head off, he’d never have reared.’

‘Nonsense,’ Charlotte countered sharply. ‘That’s no way to train a horse. Cruelty will get you nowhere with any animal.’

‘He needs to be broken.’

‘But not like that.’

‘What’s happened?’ Miles Thornton vaulted the fence with the agility of a man half his age and ran towards them.

‘That horse is a vicious beast, Father. I want him shot.’

‘No – no,’ Charlotte cried in dismay. ‘It was Philip’s treatment of him, Mr Thornton. He whipped him. That’s no way to break a young horse in. He’s a magnificent animal – ’

‘I want him shot,’ Philip repeated through clenched teeth.

‘Never mind about that now. What about you? Are you hurt?’

‘It’s his shoulder. It’s dislocated.’

‘Thinks she’s a bloody doctor,’ Philip muttered then groaned in agony, his face white.

Eddie returned with an old door and set it down beside the injured young man. He went to Philip’s head and bent as if to lift him on to it.

‘Wait, Eddie. We should bind his arm to his side first. Any movement will be very painful. Here, we’ll use my scarf.’

Charlotte unwound the cotton scarf from her neck. ‘Just raise him gently.’

Though Philip cried out again, Charlotte managed to get the scarf beneath his shoulders and tie it across his chest, fastening his arm to his side.

‘Now, lift him gently on to the door.’

‘Let me,’ Miles said, moving to his son’s feet.

Eddie pushed his arm under Philip’s shoulders whilst Charlotte supported his back as the three of them slid him on to the door.

‘Father – look out,’ Ben called. ‘Midnight’s pulled free.’

Startled, Charlotte, Miles and Eddie looked round. The horse had somehow pulled and pulled until the reins had slid off the fence.

‘You carry him to the house. I’ll see to Midnight.’

‘Don’t go anywhere near him, Miss Charlotte,’ Miles said at once. ‘I’ll get the vet to come and put him down. I—’

‘No, you will not!’ Charlotte rounded on him, forgetting in her anger just to whom she was talking.

‘I think,’ Miles said stiffly, ‘I can be allowed to make my own decision on that matter. For the moment, my son is my concern.’ He bent and grasped the end of the door. At the opposite end, Eddie did the same.