Marrying the Mistress (19 page)

‘There was never any need for it except that, without realising it, they had parked themselves on my land. Just as well they were quiet about that.'

‘For which offence you will require compensation, in the Winterson tradition?'

‘I thought we'd already settled that,' he said, letting go of my hands to take up the glass of brandy. ‘Haven't we?'

‘As you said, things have changed. You've decided not to force them out and not to find them alternative accommodation. But how are you expecting them to put the buildings and fields to rights without their funds?'

‘Haven't I told you? I thought I had.'

‘No, you haven't, my lord.'

‘You
must
be exhausted,' he commented, drily. ‘Is
this
contraband too?'

‘No. It's one Linas used to drink. And I'm not so exhausted that I cannot remember what you said, or didn't say, a moment ago.'

‘About?'

‘Renovations. Restorations. Reclamations. All that.'

‘Ah, I see. You wish to know exactly what you're getting on your side of the bargain, Miss Follet, now that they won't be here and homeless after all. Well, I didn't share the details of our bargain with your brothers, but…'

‘I should hope not!'

‘…but I did discuss with them, which
you
failed to do, what their preferences would be. In an ideal world, that is.'

‘It was pouring with rain, and I had to shout across a lake.'

‘Nevertheless, I find it more democratic to—'

‘Oh, get on with it!'

‘—not to take things too much for granted. So we sat down together over a bowl of
superb
vegetable broth and dumplings, to discuss their needs.'

‘Their needs, or yours?'

‘Theirs first, then mine. And if you insist on interrupting me, Miss Follet, I shall be here all night. Is that your intention?'

‘Please, I won't interrupt. Just tell me.'

‘Thank you. I was trying to.' Picking up the brandy, he sipped again and carefully replaced it, smiling, teasing. ‘There was no mention of compensation, sweetheart,' he said. ‘The property belongs to the Stillingfleete estate and it will be Stillingfleete money that will completely renovate and redecorate the house, install running water and proper cooking facilities, sanitation, everything they need. Your brothers have agreed to manage the extended farm for a monthly salary, and to work the fields that my men will plough and sow. The other fields will hold new stock, sheep and a few milk-cows, more horses and better machinery, some poultry yards and perhaps pens for rearing pheasants in. We may need an assistant gamekeeper, I think.

‘We'll also have to decide which barns to repair and which fields to turn to arable and pasture. We can drain most of the arable land, and redirect the beck so that the farm can't be flooded again. After that, we'll rebuild some of the cottages for the farmhands. Eventually, we might even start to use the old church again, if I can find a curate willing to take it on. It's in a bit of a mess, isn't it?'

I listened to this as if it was all a dream, and I was waiting to wake at the first sound of discord. ‘I can hardly believe it,' I whispered. ‘What did Mama have to say?'

‘Sharp as a bag of nails. She wanted to know why I was bothering with it, and did I intend first to marry you and accept Jamie as my own, which she had no doubt of, since we're as alike as two peas.'

‘She said
that
? Tch! Oh, she's too outspoken for words, my lord.'

‘Not a bit of it. She has the right to know. I told her she'd have to reconcile herself to being my mother-in-law.' He grinned like a mischievous schoolboy. ‘Oh, then she wept a little.'

‘Oh, dear. Poor Mama. She's been so very unwell.'

‘She's not been so very unwell since Cousin Pierre left. For one thing, she stopped taking that concoction he was bringing her from York once a month, and immediately she began to improve. The boys tell me—' He stopped himself, directing his attention to the brandy.

‘Tell you what? Do they suspect Pierre of something?'

‘Probably not. It seems a strange coincidence, that's all.'

‘Well, bargain or no bargain, I believe I'm in your debt, my lord. What you've agreed to do for them is—'

‘For you, lass. I'm doing it for you.'

‘Why?'

‘Because I've got you, and my son. It's as simple as that.'

Something echoed inside me.
And I have the man I
love, even though I'm not so certain of his heart or our
future together
. ‘I still have trouble believing it. It's everything they've dreamed of, and much more than I deserve. I really don't think the bargain is so very equal, is it?'

‘That's one thing we shall agree to disagree on, so let's forget about it. I cannot have a wife whose family live like outlaws in derelict houses on my property, can I? That would never do.'

My heart staggered a little. ‘No, of course not,' I said, lightly. ‘That wouldn't do at all.' Too hastily for a skilful
recovery, I changed the subject, telling him about Prue's recent bereavement and the Friday funeral.

He was all sympathy. ‘Friday is when I'll be going over to Foss Beck again, so why not have a day at Abbots Mere tomorrow while your house is being put back together again? Jamie can stay overnight, then on Friday he and Mrs Goode can spend the morning with my parents and I'll have a coach bring them back here in the afternoon. Besides, I have something for him that I believe he'll like.'

I stared into his smiling eyes. ‘Something with four legs and a tail?'

‘Indeed. A lovely little Exmoor mare that I've had my eye on. She'll be perfect for him. One owner, grown too tall.'

‘He'll be over the moon.'

‘It'll help him get over the disappointment of not having his Nana Damzell to stay. Bring them tomorrow after breakfast, and be sure he has some stout breeches and boots. Now,' he said, getting to his feet, ‘I must be off. I'm sorry about your spoilt preparations, but it's all for the best. Forgive me?' He held out his arms and I went into them with an enthusiasm that appeared to take him by surprise, since it was much less to do with either thanks or forgiveness than with my need to feel the security of his embrace. I needed that more than he would ever know, after what I'd heard that afternoon.

‘Hold me,' I whispered.

He did better than that. His kisses were heady and brandy-flavoured, and I knew it would be easy to persuade him to stay. We reached the hall, both of us searching for the perfect reason why he could not
possibly leave. He took up his hat and gloves from the hall table, catching sight of three calling-cards on the silver tray, one of which he recognised. ‘Medworth?' he said. ‘When did
he
visit you?'

‘Today.'

‘You didn't say.'

‘I forgot. Just a social call while he was in town. He wished to apologise for not safeguarding Jamie too well on Tuesday.'

‘Did he, indeed? I should damn well think so, too. Heaven only knows what kind of rector he'll make when Slatterly grants him his new living, if he cannot tend his flock better than that.'

‘Rector? New living? What does Lord Slatterly have to do with it?'

‘I'm surprised he didn't tell you. I thought he'd told everybody. The living at Osbaldwick is in Slatterly's gift, you see. It was he who made Medworth curate there, to help the old rector out. But the old chap has retired at last and now Medworth is to step into his shoes at Easter. Wear your riding habits tomorrow, you and Mrs Goode, and I'll find two horses for you. We'll ride across the estate with my parents, shall we?'

‘Er…yes. Will my phaeton be repaired by then?'

‘It was not broken, Miss Follet. Just stuck in a deep rut with a stone jamming it. The boys will have it all cleaned up by morning.'

‘So I need not have…?'

While the footman had gone to stand impassively by the door with one hand on the knob, Winterson could do little but nod. His mouth, however, was struggling
against an impulse to laugh. ‘Goodnight,' he said. ‘Sleep well, Miss Follet.'

My first call was to the kitchen to apologise to Mrs Neape for being the bearer of such unwelcome news. We had devised the menus with great care, choosing all my family's favourites, beef steak pudding with fricassée of turnips, roast saddle of venison with redcurrant jelly, cheesecakes, that kind of thing. She was philosophical. It could all be eaten cold, she said, seeing my bitter disappointment, and we would have enough to keep us going for a week.

Mrs Carson was equally sympathetic and quite unruffled by the extra work involved. She had seen it all before and by this time tomorrow, she said, everything would be back in its usual place.

Still dazed by the unexpected generosity showered upon me and my family by Lord Winterson, I went up to see Jamie, who had slept through his undressing and was in his own bed between lace-edged sheets meant for Nana Damzell, hugging the empty embroidered nightdress-case that smelled of lavender. Mrs Goode and I swapped smiles and tiptoed out. ‘Come down to the kitchen with me,' I said. ‘We'll dine with cook and Mrs Carson tonight.'

* * *

Afterwards, I gave in to the urge to begin putting things back where they belonged, and it was late when I went to bed in a silent house that I had expected to be warmed by my brothers' laughter and my mother's chatter to her companions. But now they had seen Winterson at last and had made the connection for themselves, leaving me with no explaining to do. He had
eaten their vegetable broth and dumplings, and they would understand how easy it was for me to love him and, about the complications, they would not need to know. Nor did I ever expect them to ask.

Yet for all the resolution of problems, I could not help but feel the worrying undercurrents that nagged me, not like the broodiness of recent days but more like a fear that there was something I ought to know, brought on, no doubt, by Medworth's perplexing visit. Certainly something unusual had been agreed between Winterson and his sickly twin, something that even his father had no wish to pry into. But what could be Medworth's purpose, I wondered, in trying to rock his brother's boat? Had he anticipated our marriage? Did he have a problem with the inheritance? Was there an underlying jealousy that he'd managed, until now, to keep to himself? There was, after all, some difference in status between village curate—even rector—and titled landowner-farmer, heir to the estate. And although he and Cynthia managed to exude an aura of rather chaotic domestic bliss, could there be more than that behind the scenes, as I knew there was behind most marital façades? The thought of watching him in action for the first time on Friday failed to provide me with any hope, and it was a long time before I slept.

Even then, I dreamt of enormous lakes, and boats, and huge mill-wheels thrashing the water, and my little Jamie yelling to me, over and over, that he could swim, and ride, and fly. I called to him, but he didn't hear me.

* * *

His initial disappointment was soon overcome by the promise of a day at Abbots Mere and a stay overnight,
though it did not escape his notice that Mrs Goode and I wore our riding habits for our journey in the shining phaeton. That, we said, was easy enough to explain, for the temperature had fallen to below freezing during the night, and the fields, once white with reflected clouds, were now white with ice and frost, blinding us with flashes from the mirrored sun. But when he saw that Nana Frances and Grandpa were also dressed for riding, he felt obliged to make the plaintive enquiry, ‘Am I going to ride with Uncaburl again, Mama?'

Winterson held out a hand. ‘Come with me, Jamie. There's someone out here who needs to take a look at you.'

‘Look at
me
, Uncaburl?' he said, clasping the large hand. ‘Who wants to look at me?'

‘A lady called Penny. She's out here.'

We followed, eager to catch the first rapturous expression on Jamie's face at his introduction to the dark brown mare, which to my mind was too large for him. A twelve-hand Shetland would have been far more suitable for a child of three. Jamie had no such reservations. Speechless with joy, he and the polite little mare formed an immediate bond of friendship, for he was confident from the beginning, without fear, taking the reins as he'd seen Winterson do, responsive to every instruction, determined to do everything correctly. His little feet hardly cleared the saddle-flaps, but the smile of pride in being a horseman at last helped to lift the burdens from my heart as nothing else could do. Watching them set off, side by side, one as tall as a church and the other reaching no further than the stallion's saddle was a sight to pull at my heartstrings, though I think only Goody noticed the glisten of a tear
upon my cheek. I thought then that if Jamie were the one to receive his father's love, instead of both of us, I would not complain or allow it to embitter me.

There was something else to give me food for thought that morning, not having ridden out with Winterson and his guests since last autumn when Linas's health began to deteriorate. Then, I had been left much to my own devices by our host, except when I was with Linas or another guest, Winterson never singling me out for a word as he had done on that isolated day in April 1802, forgotten by my lover. Nevertheless, someone must have taken the trouble to remind Linas after that, for on the day after our return home that year, a red rose appeared on my hall table which I placed before me at breakfast, lunch and dinner until it withered. The same thing happened on my birthday the following three years. Linas was always undemonstrative, and I dare say that was his way of saying what he could not say in words.

The difference on that sharp frosty morning is worth recording if only for the happiness it gave me to be one of the group instead of an outsider tolerated only for her relationship with a brother. That day, I was made to feel like one whose opinions were valued, drawn into conversation, laughed with and teased, occasionally. Jamie, of course, preferred to take his instructions directly from Winterson rather than me.