16
This was much more proper than yesterday’s sad confusion. Bea said graciously that they were indeed at home, and the ladies were shown in with due ceremony, the Constantines rising to greet them, conscious that for once, they were looking their best in their new, stylish mourning gowns in the latest London mode, trimmed with fine black velvet ribbon.
Lucy, who presumably knew which lady was which, had not conveyed this useful fact when she announced them, but the older of the pair smoothed this over by coming forward with gloved hand outstretched, saying, ‘I am Janet Bartrum, and I am very pleased to meet you all; this is my good friend Mrs Drinkwater, who is the wife of our dear vicar.’
The girls murmured their names in turn and in a short while, everyone was seated with only a little awkwardness. They’d been prepared in advance with cups and plates to hand, albeit of varied patterns and with a few chips to the china; tea was poured with due ceremony and cake offered round.
Mrs Bartrum was a comfortable-looking woman in her fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and a decided twinkle in her eye. She was more talkative than her companion, who was in her mid-thirties and seemed a little shy, which must be a sad handicap for the wife of a clergyman. Mrs Drinkwater had a pleasant, freckled face and a quiet voice, and deferred rather to her older friend, who told them cheerfully that she had lived in this part of Suffolk almost all her life, and thought it the best place in the world, as no doubt they’d come to agree in good time.
Cecilia, conscious that this woman had known Mrs Albery well enough and for long enough to ask her to stand godmother to her now adult son, was a little wary and trying to conceal it, but she was disarmed when Mrs Bartrum said, smiling, ‘I understand that I have two of you – I do not know which – to thank for rescuing my ungrateful firstborn earlier today! Alistair would not normally have told me anything about it, but he was so covered in sand when he returned home that I suspected some accident and pressed him to explain. He was in such a fury that he fell and two young ladies should be there to see it. I am sure he must have been atrociously rude to you, and it would be ridiculous for me to expect him to have ascertained your names or anything of that civilised nature.’
Bianca looked down at the cake crumbs on her plate and remained prudently silent.
Cecilia said steadily, ‘We were only relieved that he was not seriously hurt, ma’am. If we were able to help even a little, I am glad, and so is my sister Bianca. No doubt he would have risen to his feet by himself in no time, but we could not know that when we saw him fall. I imagine he can be excused a little… hastiness of temper in such trying circumstances.’ She thought all that sounded rather well, and very ladylike and mature. There was no need to mention that she had told this lady’s son that he looked like a stranded turtle, and was silly into the bargain.
‘“Hastiness of temper”,’ Janet Bartrum said thoughtfully. ‘That is certainly one way to put it. He has been in the foulest of foul humours ever since he was wounded, though I am sure I cannot wonder at it, and then when he and his fiancée agreed that they would not suit, which was at her instigation, of course, the horrid, shallow girl, matters grew even worse. He did not meet her here, but when staying with a friend near Bath, and so I barely knew her, but everyone must agree that her conduct was quite shocking.’
‘He must be in great pain,’ Bea offered inadequately.
‘I’m sure he is, poor darling, and my heart breaks to see him so, but he behaves as though it will all go away as long as he does not talk about it. I can hardly describe it as stoic endurance when it makes his humour so dark. You must understand that I do not mean to criticise him, but it is very hard to keep my temper whenhedoes not. And then it comes to being rude to you, two perfect strangers, when you were merely being kind and civil, he puts me out of all patience.’
‘I assure you, we did not regard it,’ Cecilia murmured. ‘It was an unconventional introduction, perhaps.’
‘Hardly that, when he admitted to me that he did not enquire as to your names, or give you his. But he is nine and twenty, and I do not mean to be apologising for him as though he were seven and had broke your window with his cricket ball. The plain fact is that he eschews company now, and will pay no visits; if you come to see me, which I hope you will when you have some leisure, he will be no means agree to be present. I would wager he will make sure to avoid the strand just here during his walks, in case he should fall over and you should once again have the temerity to help him. So I cannot imagine when you will next encounter him. I hate to see him so changed from what he was, but what can I do?’
Mrs Drinkwater intervened now in her gentle voice, and diverted the topic to something less awkward. Cecilia was therefore able, as she had wished, to reiterate the fact that none of the Constantines had been aware that Mrs Albery even existed, let alone that she had all along been keeping herself informed of their family and situation. ‘I wish we had been given the opportunity to know her,’ she said, ‘as well as you must have done, Mrs Bartrum.’
‘She was a friend of my mother’s,’ the older lady told her serenely. ‘They became close soon after my parents came to live here, when Mama inherited the house and land on my grandfather’s death; I was a small child at the time. Aunt Augusta was not nearly so eccentric then, nor such a recluse, and her husband was still alive, but I do recall that she rarely spoke of her family background. They were a devoted couple, and I conjecture that her relatives had disapproved of her match because of the connection to trade, and perhaps even cut her off. And then she lived so long that she must have far outlasted her brothers and sisters, likely even her nephews and nieces too. So it is hardly surprising, perhaps, that you should have known nothing of her.’
This did not seem to argue for simmering resentment, though it might still be mere politeness of Mrs Bartrum’s part. The lady fell now to apologising for calling so soon after their arrival, but explained that she and Mrs Drinkwater had not wanted to be backward in any attention. ‘It is good to see you so settled already,’ she told them, looking around her with an air of approval. ‘You must have done a great deal in such a short time, and I congratulate you.’
‘There is still so much more to do, though, ma’am,’ Bianca told her. ‘Our mother would be horrified if she saw us welcoming guests on sofas that are almost threadbare.’
This wasn’t quite true, as Leontina cared very little for such things and even less for the good opinions of others, but it sounded well, Cecilia thought, since it was so suggestive of respectability. There was no need at all to tell them anything of the shabby rented house in Bloomsbury.
‘I thought I might attend the auction on Wednesday, and look about me for some furniture,’ she put in, ‘with our chaperon Miss Macintyre, of course. I don’t know if ladies commonly bid, but I have no gentleman to do so for me, and so I shall endeavour it myself. I think it will be most exciting.’
The ladies returned commonplace answers, and soon rose to take their leave, as was correct for a first visit; the Constantines all felt that they had acquitted themselves well, and made a good start on establishing friendly relations with at least some of their neighbours. No doubt time would tell whether their friendliness was to be trusted or not.
17
There had been no more nocturnal excitements; that first night hadn’t been discussed again, and even Cecilia was beginning to think that she and Miss Macintyre must have been imagining things. Despite the old governess’s assertion that she’d been wide awake and reading, might she not in fact have been dozing over her book after the long, exhausting day she’d just endured? In which case, could her recollection of events necessarily be depended upon?
At any rate, the Constantines were fully occupied with the small army of helpers who had descended on Albery Hall. After a couple of days, all the rooms had been swept and thoroughly cleaned, and the outside, too, was looking much more orderly. They now had a usable large, formal dining room, should they ever have need of it, complete with the long table and heavy old oak chairs that had been there already, as well as the smaller, cosier room in which they took their meals together. They all agreed that they were poorly supplied with bedlinens, napkins, towels, drinking glasses, and a score of small, homely items to make the house cosier. Should their mother suddenly announce that she was coming for a visit, or arrive without any notice at all – which they all thought was quite possible – they would not yet be ready. It was time to think of those things that they definitely lacked, even if this list would be too long to be purchased all at once.
Transport was something the sisters had not considered when they made their plans to set off for Suffolk; they had worried about getting there, but not about how they would go on when they arrived and the coach had been sent back. But now they had discovered that Albery House was a little out of the way; even the village was a fair walk, unless one crossed the beach, and the nearest market town, Debenbridge, decidedly further.
They knew they could easily afford a new carriage, horses, and expensive male servants to go along with it, but it seemed a waste when they would use the whole equipage so very little. Luckily, along with Mrs Albery’s ancient travelling carriage, there was a little Norfolk cart, which was what a dog cart was called in these parts, sitting dusty and shrouded in cobwebs in one of the outbuildings. Jem Kersey, the new gardener, immediately set to cleaning it and inspecting the traces for signs of decay, and a solid, young grey gelding was procured from some nearby connection of Mrs Pritty’s, guaranteed by his owner to be already accustomed to pulling a light vehicle. They named him Copenhagen, after Lord Wellington’s famous steed, though it was doubtful that the two animals had very much in common otherwise.
Miss Macintyre rather unexpectedly said that she was happy to drive the cart, leaving Jem to his other work, as she had been used to do so from her youth, and would teach Cecilia the skill if she wished. ‘You should all learn, for the sake of your own independence, but at the outset, Beatrice will be too nervous and Bianca not nearly nervous enough, so as I am a trifle out of practice and even shorter on patience, I will begin with you.’
On their first expedition, though, Miss Macintyre did not ask her to take the reins, since they had a schedule to consider, and they set out together early one morning to attend the auction and explore the town in which it was held. Mrs Pritty had told them that they should stable the cart and horse at the Crown and Castle Inn, where they might also take luncheon in a private parlour, should their stay require it. ‘It’s not market day,’ that lady said reassuringly, ‘so it shouldn’t be too terribly busy; no cattle fouling the streets or the like. You’ll do well enough, and if you buy anything large, it can be delivered. Small items will fit snugly in the big boxes under the seat, if they’re packed in properly. You be sure and tell Mr Marjoram the auctioneer that he’ll have me to answer to if there’s any breakages through his staff’s carelessness.’
The road wound inland along the river, among trees green with spring growth, and Miss Macintyre handled the horse and vehicle in fine style, with her usual calm assurance, causing Cecilia to wonder what else she could do that she had hitherto kept concealed. In less than an hour, she was turning confidently under the arch of the favoured inn, where an ostler came bustling out to assist them.
‘Farmer Eary’s young grey and Mrs Albery’s old dog cart,’ he said laconically. ‘You’ll be the new ladies up at the Hall, then. It’ll be the auction you’re here for. You’re in good time for the viewing; it’s but a few steps away, if you turn right directly out of the yard.’
Cecilia was again a little disconcerted that everyone they met should so readily know all their business, as was definitely not the case in London, but she was too keen to see the goods on offer really to worry about it much.
