Prue Phillipson - Hordens of Horden Hall (13 page)

Her father returned as the fish and a few vegetables were cooking. It smelt good to him, he said, and he commended her diligence. He never counted the sheets of paper. She never told him what she had done. Only when she thought of Daniel her heart beat faster and she feared her father would be able to see into her and discover the strength of her flesh and the weakness of her spirit.

CHAPTER 11

In the first two weeks of the visit Lady Horden continued to pass like a slow shadow about the Hall and the immediate grounds. Her maid said she was recovering from bruising caused by the overturning of the stage coach but Bel told Daniel, “Her heart is bruised. The place is empty of my father and I do believe she is mourning him at last. When she is her steely self again she will be able to deal with your other grandparents if they are ready to invite her.”

Meanwhile Daniel had to take both the girls out riding. He couldn’t help enjoying Diana’s company more for her sheer delight in every place they explored while Madeline went about under sufferance with dull eyes and pouting lips.

Grandmother Wilson sent word at the end of two weeks that Joseph would like to see the visitors and she thought he could manage them for an hour. She had not been to the Hall herself yet on the excuse that she was nursing him and missed Peggy’s help. In fact both Peggy and Ursula had run back and forth between the Hall and the vicarage and Nathaniel had spent time there while Lady Horden was resting and Bel was showing Henrietta the limited repairs made after the Scottish occupation. But at last Daniel, apprehensive of the outcome, escorted the French party on foot the half mile to the vicarage.

Once there he had to gather into the little parlour what stools and chairs there were in different parts of the house so they could sit in a semi-circle before his grandfather’s couch. Grandmother had no wine to offer them but she had bought in a flagon of ale and there was a jug of her honey cordial on the table.

Lady Horden declined anything but she led the conversation.

“Pray tell me, Reverend Joseph, how you came to be vicar here? I understood from the English newspapers which were sent to us in France that the office of Vicar was abolished during the dreadful Protectorate.”

He smiled wanly. “It was, my lady, and Parliament sent Presbyterian preachers to most parishes but there were never enough. The incumbent here died shortly after we all came north from Yorkshire and there being no one to minister to them the parish invited me to step in quietly and make preaching my principal duty. I have never felt much of a preacher but I did my best and no one bothered us. I wore a plain gown and only administered the sacrament when a few souls asked me to do it secretly.”

Daniel saw that Diana was listening to him with her hands clasped on her skirt while Madeline shifted on her stool and her eyes roamed round the room. There was little to see but she looked curiously at a framed picture of a childish painting of a tree beside a bright blue strip of river with some strange animals drinking from the bank.

Anne Wilson saw her looking at it and Daniel knew at once what was coming – the story of her boy hanged for a crime he did not commit, a crime inadvertently perpetrated by his own mother.

“My Daniel painted it,” she said to Madeline when the conversation between Lady Horden and Joseph reached a natural stop. “Not
that
Daniel,
my
boy, his uncle. He grew to nineteen years but remained a child, the sweetest-natured child you could imagine.”

“No, Anne,” Joseph interrupted, “I do not think our visitors would wish to hear that tale.”

“But we know it, Reverend Wilson,” Henrietta said, and Daniel stiffened in astonishment. “At least my mother and I do. Arabella wrote to me and told me the whole story. She was so thankful that she had been forgiven and that you were all living in harmony. We were closer in our letters than we had ever been in our youth. You see we both lost other children and that was a bond between us.”

Daniel had not heard his aunt speak tenderly of his mother before. It pleased him that she was not just an elegant, fan-rustling vicomtess as he had supposed. But Grandmother Wilson was not pleased to be checked in the narration of her Daniel’s story. She got up and stalked about like an eagle frustrated of its prey and when Lady Horden resumed her conversation with Joseph she actually left the room.

Daniel thought he ought to follow her and let her speak of his uncle although he was sure there was not an episode of his childhood he had not heard before. So when Lady Horden began saying to his grandfather, “It seems to me, Reverend Wilson, that you are accommodating in your views,” he slipped from his stool and went after his other grandmother.

He found her in the big square vicarage kitchen with a scrubbing brush in her hand attacking a mark on the table top. She looked up and pursed her lips at him.

“It surprises me that your mother would herself tell that story to anyone. Oh I forgave but I cannot forget. It is a hard thing and the pain never goes away.”

For the first time he felt no fear of her. He gently eased the scrubbing brush from her hand. “
That
mark will never go away, Grandmamma. You made it when I was eleven and you were telling me about Uncle Daniel wanting to march with the soldiers. You forgot you were resting the hot iron against the wood.”

She cackled suddenly. “Ay, I did.” Then she looked up into his face. “I let him go. I thought he could be bold and valiant and his brother too – your father – who was ever in his books. They both had to be men.
I
should have been a man. I would have fought a good fight, but Nat was no fighter and of course Dan copied him – and you know what happened. What have
you
done with your life, you great tall lad?”

“Not much yet but I will, Grandmamma.”

“I hope I live to see it. Are they still chattering in there? Those French girls are no beauties. You’ll not have an eye to one I hope?”

While Daniel was hesitating how to answer, Diana appeared in the doorway. Her eyes were agog with excitement but all she said was, “Oh Mistress Wilson, forgive me but we think we should be leaving. Your husband is looking weary.”

“Very well, child. I will see you to the door. You all walked from the Hall I believe.”

“Oh yes, it is so fine and dry underfoot and Dan is our escort.”

“Dan? You call him Dan?”

She was bustling into the parlour as she said it and handing Lady Horden her short cloak.

Diana winked at him and murmured, “Wait till I tell you what was spoken of just now.”

Daniel bade a hurried farewell to his grandfather who was closing his eyes on the departing guests and followed Diana. She hung back for him, letting the others go out of earshot, and tucked her arm through his.

“Guess what our grandmother asked your grandfather?”

“Nay I don’t know. She seemed to be suggesting he was a little too tolerant.”

“But it was for a good reason. She went on to ask him his views on mixed marriages?”

“Mixed?” Daniel asked it lightly but his throat had gone dry.

“Between Catholics and Protestants, you silly boy. Now why would she ask that, do you think?”

“I’ve no notion. What did Grandfather say?”

“Oh he is a sweet man! He said true love can overcome many difficulties. And you needn’t pretend to be dim-witted like your poor uncle Daniel. No names were spoken but it was plain enough who everyone had in mind. If Madeline’s eyes had been needles I’d have been pricked like a pincushion by now.”

The day dimmed for Daniel though the sunbeams were still shining through the trees and dappling the grassy track before them. I am not ready for this, his mind was telling him, though his heart was touched that a bright, smiling girl was walking beside him wanting to marry him. I was warned one of them might be pushed at me but I never thought
love
would be the driving force. Does she really love me? That makes it so dangerous. I don’t want to hurt her but –

She clung more tightly to him and peered up into his face. “Dan? Why do you not speak?”

He swallowed hard. “We’re mighty young to be talking like this. I mean I am going up to Cambridge you know –”

“Nay, Dan, you told me you were going to rebel against all that. You want to be a great sea captain and serve your king. Of course I would hate you to be away but there is no fighting going on at present. We could be married at once and live in London –”

He looked desperately about him. She was compelling him to walk slowly and the others were far ahead. Why had his mother not told him how to deal with a proposal of marriage directly from the young lady herself? Surely this was not how such things were meant to be.

“You know,” he said at last, “it is not grandparents that make matches, but parents. I have no notion if mine would consent to a Catholic. I mean, you know, my father will be ordained in the English church as soon as he can.”

She was now very rosy in the face and her black eyes were wildly dilated.

“What is up with you, Dan? You have shown me all this time that you have eyes only for me. If
you
are suddenly finding religion a trouble I will turn. What is the Pope to me? As long as you are no dissenter who wants to do away with Christmas and all jollifications I am happy.” She had finally pulled him to a stop and made him face her. “Why are you suddenly all cold and distant?”

What could he say with her great eyes pleading? “Nay I am not sure that we go about it the right way. Your father is in France and he will have much to say on the matter.”

She threw back her head and laughed. “Oh if that is all! Why I overheard him say to my mother before we left ‘And if you can make up a match with that young baronet for one of them it will be well done.’ So you need have no apprehension on that score.”

He was truly in a trap. The more tightly she was closing it the more he knew he wanted to escape. Had he really been remiss in showing her attention? He had used no loving words to her but maybe he had done enough. If his mother had known his feelings better than he did himself she should have stopped him.

He knew this was unjust to her and that he needed her help and support. “I think we had better catch up the others,” he said. “I am supposed to be escorting your grandmother. She might need my arm to lean on.”

He began hurrying forward and she had to break into a run to keep up with his long strides.

“
Grandmere
has her parasol to lean on. You are being a brute. Something has changed you. What is it?”

“I just wonder if you took their meaning up wrongly when they were speaking of mixed marriages. I think we should be careful of running ahead of them. Old people don’t like it you know. They have to arrange these things themselves and I’m sure my father and mother who were not there today –”

“Your
mother
! She is the great romantic. She speaks always of how she loves your father. How could you think for a moment that she would oppose your true love?”

“But my father you see – he is set on my going to Cambridge. I could not hurt him. We will still be young when I graduate and you may not care for me any more at all.”

She slapped his arm hard. “You want that to be so because
you
do not care for me now. How can you be so cruel?”

“Nay I do love you.” The words came out of their own accord because she looked so piteous. She’s right about Mother too, he excused himself quickly. Mother rates love so highly and here is this girl loving me and feeling wounded and angry because I am not responding.

She did smile. She laughed with glee. She flung her arms round his waist and peered up with her eyes glowing like beads and her lips inviting.

He had to kiss her. It was a clumsy push at her moist mouth and then he had taken her hand and they were running after the others.

They caught them up as they reached the Hall. The track led to the stables and the kitchen, but they were starting to walk round to the front entrance when Bel appeared at the door and called out, “Pray come this way if you are tired, Mother. Ursula has made a refreshing drink from the juice of oranges. Do try some.”

Ursula was bobbing in the doorway. She had discarded her bonnet now that the guests were used to her, the day being so warm.

Diana, darting round the others who were slowly adjusting to the change of direction, clasped Ursula in her arms and said in a whisper they could all hear, “Oh Nana Sula, your darling Dan has declared his love for me. Is that not wonderful?”

Daniel at once felt his mother’s look as sharp as a sword thrust. He lifted his shoulders and spread his hands but her look only pierced more deeply. He had made a great mistake. He tore his eyes away to see how the others had taken it.

His aunt was beaming; his grandmother lifted her brows in disapproval of such forward, extravagant behaviour but did not seem perturbed. Only Madeline scowled.

Ursula herself was chuckling and patting Diana’s hands, unaware yet of Bel’s reaction. She led them all into the kitchen.