‘This is no lie. There is no impostor.
Do you think I do not recognise her? I married her to you!
Your wife was here, not an hour ago, in my churchyard, paying her respects to her dear departed mother. She lives. She is well. She has returned to claim her position as your wife.’
‘She can’t! I’ll not have her back!’ Noah shouted. ‘She is dead to me.’
‘You cannot turn her away, Noah.’ Percival’s brow furrowed as he glanced at his sister. ‘She has a child. She claims he is your son.’
Noah exploded. ‘No! Not
my
child! Never
my
child! He is some vagrant’s bastard. That’s why I got rid of her.’
‘Got rid of her?’
‘I took her to the High Peak and sold her at the hiring fair.’
‘You . . .
sold
her?’
‘Aye. That’s what we do with unfaithful wives where I come from!’
The Reverend Wilkins closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands.‘But you were married in my church.You cannot deny her claim.’
‘She was a harlot. I wanted a pure woman, like my lovely Beatrice.’
The vicar sat down wearily. ‘Noah, oh Noah, what have you done?’
‘She never wanted
me
. She had eyes only for that vagrant.’
‘She wants you now. At least, she wants your name for her child.’
‘I told you he’s not mine.’
‘He is of an age to be yours. She is your lawful wife and her child was born within wedlock. You cannot expect any woman to turn her back on that.’
‘And what about Beatrice? Have you no thoughts for your own sister?’
‘But I cannot marry you to her if your wife still lives! Dear Lord, Noah, I have read the banns!’
‘Oh, why did she have to come back? I thought I was rid of her for ever!’
‘Noah, you have to receive her. She is your lawful wife. As it is there will be a huge scandal. How shall I stay here if I am implicated in your deception? And yes, what will happen to my poor sister? Beatrice? My dear, you have become very quiet. Have you nothing more to say?’
Beatrice was sitting stock-still with a look of sheer horror on her face. ‘What shall I do?’ she whispered. She clasped her hands lightly over her belly. ‘I believe I am going to faint. I am with child myself.’
‘Noah!’ Percival leaped to his feet, not knowing whether to strike Noah or tend to his sister, whose head was lolling. He chose his sister, supported her back and pressed the remains of his brandy to her lips.
She recovered quickly, but not so her brother, whose agitation was increasing by the minute. ‘You - both of you have disappointed me greatly. But for Beatrice, I blame myself. I should have chaperoned her more closely. Noah, your behaviour towards her is the worst. You betrayed my trust.’
‘Do not chastise him, brother. I did not choose celibacy as you seem to have done. It was forced upon me by my duty to our parents. Had I not cared for them until I lost my bloom, I might have had a husband and children sooner. Neither Noah nor I have time to waste.’
‘Oh Lord, oh Lord. I am the vicar of this parish. How shall I face my congregation when they hear of this?’
‘Why should they?’ Noah demanded. ‘If the harlot wants money, I’ll give her what she asks for and send her on her way. Then you can marry us, just as we planned.’
Percival was too exhausted to argue further, but he tried: ‘No, I cannot.You are this woman’s husband. If she is destitute you have a duty to look after her.’
‘Is she destitute?’
‘She was not dressed in rags.’
‘There you are then. She’s found someone else to take her on. Why can’t we go ahead with my marriage to Beatrice?’
‘Because we can’t, you stupid man!’
‘Dearest!’ Beatrice chastised. She reached across for Noah’s hand. ‘There must be some way for us to marry. Royalty have divorces, don’t they? You have connections with the gentry. Find out how they do it.’
‘A divorce? Don’t be ridiculous! The scandal will be just as bad. Besides, they are for the very rich and they - they have to have good reasons.’
‘Such as?’ Beatrice demanded. ‘Come along, Percy dear, you know about these things.’
Percival glanced at his sister’s stomach. ‘I know they take time. I doubt it could help you now. But perhaps . . . Beatrice, I think you’d better leave Noah and me to discuss this further.’
‘But, dearest, surely it concerns me, too?’
‘Do as I say.’
She stood up. ‘Very well.’
When she had gone back to the vicarage, Percival asked, ‘Are you sure the child is not yours?’
‘She must have been with child when we wed.’
‘But how can you be so sure?’
Noah looked uncomfortable. ‘She bewitched me in such a way. We never managed to . . . you know.’
Percival stared at him. ‘Are you telling me that you did not consummate your marriage?’
Noah nodded.
‘But Beatrice . . . ?’
‘I found an apothecary with potions from the East. It took me a while to get it right but I persevered.’ He looked at his feet. ‘Beatrice helped. She is the woman for me, Percy.You must find a way for us to wed.’
‘But that is the answer, Noah.’ Percival cheered for the first time that afternoon. ‘If your wife will swear to it, too, I may be able to procure an annulment. These affairs really do take time, though. If Beatrice is to have her child inside wedlock, I must make haste and seek advice immediately. Good day to you, Noah.’
He hurried out to his horse and galloped back to his church and asked a child if he had seen a woman with an infant pass through the village. Mrs Bilton had followed his horse up Bilton Hill. But she had not called at the farm and he had not passed her on his way back. Of course! She had gone on to Top Field where she used to live.
The cottage was empty and locked up as Noah had not started the extensions that he’d planned. His sister had seen off that idea when she worked her charm on him to spend his wealth on the farmhouse. And to think that he had encouraged the liaison as an outlet for her energies! He urged his horse towards Bilton Hill again, eventually dismounting to lead it, sweating, up the steep incline at the top.
Quinta had talked to little Patrick most of the time as she climbed. She had cut the openings in his sling wider to give him more room for his legs and resumed carrying him on her back. Her progress was slow but all the time she talked, telling him of her days at Top Field with his father; what he had said, what he had done and how much he would love him if he were here.
The acres below the cottage had been ploughed and harvested barley stood in stooks waiting to be threshed.There were sheep grazing on the pasture but the cottage looked as though no one had been there since she and her mother had left. She peered in the window. It was neat and tidy, if dusty, and obviously not tenanted. Seth must still be farming the land for Noah, she guessed. She crossed to the stream for a drink and noticed waterfowl on the pond. Patrick would be pleased, she thought.
She laid little Patrick on the bank and splashed cooling water over her face and then his, which he enjoyed. Except when he was hungry, he was a happy child, which constantly surprised her, considering his start in life.
‘I’ll show you the cowshed,’ she said, ‘where your father and grandfather lived when they stayed with us.’
The sheep scattered as she carried her child in one arm and the sling over her other back to the track. The cowshed had no lock and she went inside. Insects and small animals had taken up residence. But, she thought, idly picking up an old birch broom with her free hand, that was easily remedied.
‘We have a bed for the night,’ she said. Let the word get around the village about her return before she approached Noah. Barley straw was soft to sleep on and she had bread in her bundle. With the cooking pot that Patrick had used and some barley and vegetables, she could make a broth for supper, if the sheep had not pushed through the hedge and trampled her garden.
She found it overgrown and wild, but some roots had survived and greens had seeded down to re-emerge young and fresh. She stayed outside and set about making a fire. She did not notice Mr Wilkins approach until she heard his horse snorting in the heat. She went to pick up little Patrick straightaway.
‘Good evening, sir,’ she said. In spite of her earlier misgivings she felt strong. This was her territory. Hers and Patrick’s, and she was fighting for their son.
‘Mrs Bilton.’ He gave her a formal bow. ‘I must speak with you.’
‘And I you. Will you sit?’
He tethered his horse and joined her on the grass. ‘This is a serious matter.’
‘Indeed it is.’
‘I shall come straight to the point.Your husband has told me of your - your infidelity.’
‘Deception, I own up to, sir, but I was never an unfaithful wife to him.’
‘He is very angry with you.’
‘
He
is angry. Do you know what he did with me?’
‘Yes, he told me.’
‘Then perhaps we are even and can start afresh?’
Mr Wilkins clasped his hands and kneaded his fingers. ‘He does not want you as his wife, madam. Nor, I suspect, do you truly care for him.’
‘That is of no consequence. He is my husband and I have a child.’
‘Not his child.’
‘It is if I say so.’
‘But he says not. He has told me of his . . . his difficulties with you and I believe him.’
‘He is a liar.You know that because he told you I was dead.’
Mr Wilkins face took on a sterner expression. ‘You did not consummate your marriage,’ he said firmly, adding, ‘Well, did you?’
She blew out her cheeks, but this time answered honestly. ‘No. He had this affliction and I didn’t know what to do.’
‘Please do not give me the details. It is sufficient that you both admit to it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘If you will sign a document to that effect, I can procure an annulment of the marriage and you will both be free of each other.’
‘No!’ she yelled. She actually shouted at the vicar. ‘Why do you think I am back here, suffering all this humiliation? My child! That’s why! Noah Bilton lied in court and took my child’s father from me. He must pay for that and I intend to make sure that he does!’
Mr Wilkins shaded his eyes with his hand and heaved a sigh. ‘He lied in court.’ He sounded weary. It was not a question and he seemed resigned to accepting this new information.
‘Ask him! Although I, for one, should never trust his word ever again!’
‘Yet you wish to remain his wife.’
‘I wish to have his name for my child. That is all.’
The silence between them lengthened. Then Mr Wilkins spoke slowly as though choosing his words carefully. ‘Is there ... anything, anything that . . . that you would take instead?’
She didn’t know what he meant at first and then realised it was money. He must have spoken to Noah, who had suggested buying his freedom. Surely Mr Wilkins did not agree? He was the vicar. Why should he care so much about Noah’s wishes, anyway? She gave him a small humourless smile and answered, ‘My child would like a pardon for his father.’
To her surprise, he took her seriously. ‘If you really mean that I shall go immediately to Sir William.’
‘You think it may be possible?’An unusual excitement bubbled in her breast.
‘I do not know, but I shall find out.’
‘Why? Why trouble yourself so on my behalf?’
‘I do not want any more scandal in my parish. If I can secure a pardon for your child’s father will you agree to an annulment? ’
‘Yes.’ Her answer needed no further consideration, but her heart was missing beats as she added, ‘If he is still alive.’
After Mr Wilkins had hurried away, she could not eat. She could not sleep. She could not remember collecting the barley staves and making a bed in the cowshed. All she could recall for the remainder of that day was feeding her child last thing before she put him down for the night. It was always their most special time together when she comforted him and he comforted her.
‘What have I done? I have agreed to sell your good name for your father’s freedom,’ she told her baby. ‘It is not too late for me to change my mind but I have already made my offer and - and, my darling son, I hope it will happen. Can you forgive me? I do it as much for you as for him.’ She frowned as she whispered these words and thought, I love you both so much, how can I know what is best for you both?
In the dead of night when the owls hooted and the vixens called she had other misgivings. Patrick might be wed himself, have another child with another woman. He might not want to return to the South Riding. He might enjoy being a soldier. Worst of all he might not love her any more, he might suspect that little Patrick is not his, and what would happen to her darling child then? Her nagging doubts kept her awake. Love was ecstasy but love was dangerous, too. A brief interlude of passion with a man she loved had turned her life on its head. How could she have been so foolish?
Chapter 29
Mr Wilkins called the following day with the key for the cottage. ‘You may live here until this unfortunate business is resolved. It will be best for all concerned if you keep away from the village and its wagging tongues.Your husband will support you with supplies. He wants this annulment.’
‘Is it really possible to free Mr Ross?’ she asked again.
‘Noah Bilton is to call on Sir William today and - and discuss the situation.’
‘But Noah will go to gaol himself if he admits that he lied.’
‘Sir William understands these matters more than anyone else in the Riding. Leave it to him. He looks after his own.’
She was aware of that. It was why he had believed Noah in the first place. She began to fret about ever agreeing to this unholy bargain. ‘I shall not consent to an annulment until I see the pardon for myself.’
‘I expected that, Mrs Bilton. Sir William will bring it to you in person.’