Authors: Mistress of Marymoor
They attacked Elkin and Seth, but both men continued to struggle so furiously that it seemed impossible to hold them down. Her uncle was flung off by Elkin and yelled out, “Get some rope, Deborah, damn you. Have you no sense?” as he moved forward again to try to help Matthew hold Elkin.
It was Bessie who got to the struggling men first and struck out with her iron ladle, surprising Seth by a sharp blow on the temple. He blinked and hesitated for long enough for Isabel to hit him hard with the piece of wood. As Bessie raised the ladle again he fell backwards to measure his length in the dirt. The two old women rushed to stand over him, ready to thump him again. But he didn’t stir.
Elkin was still cursing and fighting like a madman, but there were enough of them now to hold him. As they dragged him to his feet Deborah saw Frank look questioningly at his master and Walter Lawrence give him a quick nod. Frank took out his pistol, holding it hidden from Matthew as he looked for an opportunity to use it.
Deborah realised suddenly what he was doing and screamed, “Watch out, Matthew!”
Her husband jerked backwards but there was no way he could avoid being an easy target.
Before anyone could move a piece of stone flew through the air and hit Frank on the temple, making him jerk his hand as the pistol went off. George let out a shout of triumph at hitting his target with his sling, but the shot rang out immediately afterwards and Matthew fell to his knees.
Deborah couldn’t see what had happened and for one moment of sheer, blind terror, she thought Frank had killed her husband. “No!” she screamed, running forward.
But the shot had hit Elkin instead and it was he who was dragging Matthew down. A red stain appeared in the centre of Elkin’s chest and he let go of his opponent to hit the ground with an inarticulate, groaning sound.
As Matthew righted himself, Mr Norwood came forward to place himself in front of him and say sternly to Frank. “Put that pistol away. You cannot kill all of us.”
As Frank lowered the pistol, Deborah went to stand between her husband and her uncle.
Mr Norwood knelt beside the twitching figure.
“Get away—from me—damned preacher!” Elkin looked beyond the parson to Deborah, such a malevolent expression on his face that she flinched, even knowing he couldn’t now hurt her. And then his body jerked one last time and his eyes rolled up.
“He’s dead,” the parson said quietly, closing the staring eyes.
“Won’t you introduce us to your husband?” Walter Lawrence said, his voice as smooth as if this were a mere social gathering, as if his manservant had not just tried to murder his niece’s husband.
Deborah glared at him. “So that you will know the man Frank just tried to kill?”
“It was Elkin I was trying to shoot,” Frank said quickly, “though I meant only to wing him. He had a madman’s strength and was a danger to us all.”
“I know what I saw and what I believe,” she told her uncle. “And I want nothing more to do with you. Not now or at any time in the future.”
Matthew put his arm round her. “You had best leave before we hand you over to the law,” he said to Walter. “There are several witnesses to your action and only the fact that you’re related to my wife stops me from reporting what you tried to do to the magistrate.”
As Isabel came forward to join them, Deborah asked urgently, “Are you all right, mother? They didn’t hurt you?”
“I’m better than I have been for a while.” She turned to her brother. “I never wish to see you again, either, Walter. Your sins must be on your own conscience.”
“What sins? Fine gratitude this is,” he bluffed, “when I came all this way to help you. Why, Frank just saved your lives.”
“You came to see what you could steal for yourself,” Isabel told him roundly. “But this time Deborah has a better protector than I could ever be.”
Matthew smiled gently at her. “I can ask for nothing better than to look after my wife and her family, Mrs Jannvier.” His smile faded as he turned back towards Walter Lawrence. “If anything untoward ever happens to me from now on, be sure my friends will know where to look first for answers.”
Walter cast a malevolent glance in his direction, then said loudly, “There was no attempt to kill you.”
But everyone except Jem and the young groom had turned away from him, and those two were watching him steadily, George with another piece of stone looped at the ready in his sling, Jem with a loaded pistol in his hand.
He and Frank walked away towards where the lane began.
Mr Norwood let out a shaky sigh, then tried to pull himself together. “We’ll need to take the body into town and inform the magistrate of what has happened.” He looked down and shuddered at the wickedness still graven on Elkin’s still features.
Mag’s grandson, who had been hovering near the barn, came forward. “There’s a cart round the back, but no horse to draw it—unless we use his.”
“This lad could have warned your uncle’s man that I was about to fire my slingshot,” George said. “I saw him watching me. And I think he only betrayed our presence to Seth out of shock at the sight of us.”
The lad pointed to the body. “Gran was his nurse and thought the world of him, but I allus hated him.” He looked at his grandmother, who was crouched over Elkin, her face streaming with tears as she stroked his cheek. “Are you going to hand her over to the constable?”
They looked down at her.
“No,” Matthew said softly. “No, you look after her, lad, and if you need money come and see me. For now, take what’s in Elkin’s pockets. I want nothing from him.”
“I’ll do that, sir, and thank you kindly for it.” He looked round. “I’ll need someone to help me get the cart out and harness his horse to it.”
“And someone should tie up this villain,” said Mr Norwood, pointing to Seth, who was just starting to stir. “We don’t want him causing more trouble.”
Matthew saw that Lawrence was still watching them from the end of the lane and raised his voice. “Have you two not yet started for home?”
As they began to walk away Deborah called out “We’ll send a dray to Newgarth within the week to collect our furniture and possessions.”
Her uncle turned briefly to snap, “They’ve already been sold or thrown away.”
Was the man really so greedy and unprincipled that he would even steal the contents of his sister’s cottage? Matthew wondered. “Then they’d better be found again,” he called, “for if we don’t get them back, we’ll accuse you of theft. I’m sure the goods are of enough value to hang you.”
“And even if you escape hanging,” Isabel added, “your rich neighbours will never speak to you again if you’re brought to trial.”
Walter scowled at her. “I dare say the things may still in one of my barns. And I’m well rid of you.” He walked away from them, shouting over his shoulder, “Come on, Frank. Let’s find our horses and return to civilised parts.”
Frank followed him, not looking back.
Isabel watched them till they were out of sight, then heaved a sigh of relief. She turned to her daughter and smiled. “Do you have room for me at Marymoor, darling?”
“Oh, yes.” Deborah couldn’t say anything else, because her heart was too full. She felt like clinging to Matthew and weeping all over him now that the danger had passed.
He seemed to guess how she was feeling and gave her a quick hug. “Let me take you home, love. Will you ride pillion with me?”
She turned to him and nodded, her face so full of love that Bessie nudged her mother and beamed.
Seth brought Matthew’s horse. “We can settle everything here and bring the parson back to the village. Take your wife home, lad.”
Matthew mounted wincing at the pain from his wound, then Seth helped Deborah up behind him. They rode down the lane at a gentle pace, neither saying anything, just glad to be close. As they reached the road, he reined in the horse and turned his head to look at her. “What are you smiling at?”
Her voice was soft, her smile radiant. “I was thinking how happy I am. In spite of what’s just happened, I’ve never been happier in my whole life.”
“I feel the same.” He urged the horse on and they travelled in silence for some time, then he said suddenly, “I think we’ll probably have to provide for Elkin’s mother as well.”
“That poor woman! Of course we shall. Though I doubt she’s long for this world.” She hesitated, and then asked in her turn, “Shall you mind my mother living with us, Matthew? And Bessie, who will make an excellent housekeeper?”
“I shall mind nothing as long as I have you, Deborah.” His voice faltered for a moment, then he reined in again, determined to say it and keep on saying it so that she should never doubt his feelings. “I’ve grown to love you dearly.”
“And I you.”
“When I knew Elkin had captured you, I wanted to kill him. I made a bad hash of it, though. I’m a farmer, not a killer.”
“I’m glad it wasn’t you who killed him. I don’t want to be married to a man who can take a life as easily as Elkin could.”
“Ralph gave me the best present anyone ever has in my whole life,” he said, his eyes steady on hers.
“Marymoor?”
“No. Much better than that. The mistress of Marymoor—a valiant lass whom I love to desperation.”
She felt tears of joy well in her eyes. “Oh, Matthew.”
As the horse whickered its annoyance at these stops and starts, he let it move forward again. He could feel her head resting against his back and her arms circling him with loving warmth. Neither of them even noticed when they arrived at Marymoor and only the horse stamping impatiently and neighing plaintively brought them to their senses.
It also brought Simley out of the barn to scowl at them.
Matthew slid off the horse. He’d forgotten the Simleys were still there. “Elkin is dead. You and your wife have one hour to leave Marymoor.”
The man gaped then rushed back to the house without a word.
“Stay with me while I unsaddle my horse, my little love.” Matthew was reluctant to let her out of his sight.
Deborah nodded and sat down on a pile of hay, saying little as he worked, but smiling from time to time as they exchanged glances. She felt exhausted now, but the happiness was still there, running gently through her veins and warming her.
Jem had to clear his throat twice to gain their attention. “We’ve arrived.”
They walked outside and saw Isabel clinging to Bessie’s arm, looking exhausted.
“We’ll see to the horses, Matt lad,” Jem said quietly. “You take your wife and her mother inside.”
“We’ll go in the front way,” Matthew said, as he led them away from the stables.
“But the kitchen door is closer,” Deborah protested pulling away to stare at him in puzzlement.
“Yes, but today you are more truly mistress here than ever before and it’s not fitting that you go in like a servant. Not this time.”
At the front door he stopped and lifted her into his arms, carrying her across the threshold and kissing her before he set her down.
Bessie and Isabel nudged at one another.
“He’s a fine man,” Bessie whispered.
“And he loves her.” Isabel sighed happily.
Then the two re-appeared in the doorway, Matthew’s arm round Deborah’s shoulders. “Welcome to your new home, ladies. Bessie, Deborah assures me that you’ll make a fine housekeeper. Will you work for us?”
“Of course I will.” She dropped him a quick curtsey to acknowledge his new status as her master.
“And Mrs Jannvier, you can be sure that my wife’s mother is always welcome in my home.”
“I’m sure we’re all going to be happy here,” Isabel said. But it was her daughter she was smiling at, not the house. And her new son-in-law.
It was left to Bessie to study their surroundings with added interest and she was instantly drawn out of her lethargy by the sight of such shoddy housekeeping. “Well, it certainly looks like I’m needed here and I for one shall not be happy till this place is set in order.” She went to run a finger across the dusty oak panelling and make a loud tutting noise. “Did you ever see the like?”
The very normality of her reaction to the house made the world seem right again and Matthew chuckled. “There’s a maid Merry who should be in the kitchen,” he told Bessie, pointing to the door at the rear of the hall. “She’s a willing worker, but the other two are leaving straight away. Ask Merry to bring up some warm water to our bedchamber, will you, please?”
He winced as he turned incautiously and Deborah saw the blood on his shirt. “You’re hurt!”
“It’s nothing more than a graze.”
“Come upstairs and I’ll change the bandages. Will you be all right, mother?”
“I’ll be better than I have in years,” Isabel assured her, following Bessie towards the kitchen door.
Deborah accompanied her husband slowly up the stairs, her heart overflowing with joy. She was home at last. As she looked round, tears welled in her eyes and she vowed in her heart to make Marymoor a happy home for them all.
She had a husband she loved and who loved her, her mother and Bessie were safe—she needed nothing else in the world. Well, just one thing—she smiled—Matthew’s children. And she was sure he would be very willing to help her achieve that ambition.
“What are you smiling at?” he asked, watching her from their bedchamber door.
She smiled back at him and reached up to kiss his cheek quickly. “I’ll tell you tonight.”
Copyright © 2002 by Anna Jacobs
Originally published by Severn House [0727858629]
Electronically published in 2011 by Belgrave House
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