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“I speak as I feel,” Aunt Madge said, pursing her lips.
Just then, Keeble came in with another decanter of wine, so Mama said quickly, “Do try the Savoy cake, Mr Fletcher. So moist and delicate. Mrs Sharwell has such a light hand with bread and pastries. Or would you prefer the apple pie? Will, are you taking a gun out tomorrow? We could do with some game birds — whatever you can obtain.”
“I have no arrangement with the Plummers,” Will said. “I do not like to go about shooting indiscriminately, and I am not certain which coveys may be used.”
“You could ask Mr James Plummer,” Julia said.
“The rector? Is he the arbiter of what I may shoot on our own land?” Will said stiffly.
“He is the expert, since our gamekeeper is bedridden at present. He seems to take a gun out most days.”
“Ah.” Will’s face lightened. “Perhaps I will call upon him before breakfast tomorrow, then.”
“And what are your plans for tomorrow, my dear?” Pa said to Mama. “The carriage will be back by noon, if you wish to go a-calling.”
“After breakfast, I am to go through the linen cupboard with Mrs Graham,” she said, with a little sigh of pleasure. “Later, I must certainly call upon Lady Plummer, to thank her for her hospitality. The girls will go with me, and you, if you wish to come, my dear.”
“Am I needed?”
“It would be an appropriate attention, if you have nothing else to do.”
“I shall have nothing else to do,” he said gloomily. “There is nothing in this house for me to do.”
“You could find out why there is never enough hot water,” Julia said.
“Julia, dear, that is a matter for the servants,” Mama said sharply. “I am sure Keeble will resolve the issue soon.”
“No, I think it’s a matter for a man with a practical nature,” Julia said. “Sarah tells me there are three coppers in the kitchen wing which should provide sufficient hot water even for Will’s excessive ablutions, but no one seems to know anything about them. I’ll wager any money that Pa can sort it out.”
Her father chuckled. “Aye, I’ll wager I can, and if I can’t, I’ll know where to find someone who can. That’s my day settled then. Aye, I’ll take a little port, thank you, Keeble.”
~~~~~
‘To Miss Jupp, St Peter’s Road, Sagborough, West Riding. My very dear friend, I wish so much that I could see you and Ricky, and talk to you both, for you would reassure me, I know you would. Everything has become so strange here, and I cannot be comfortable about it. Pa and Mama have always talked of me marrying a lord, and I can quite understand why they should wish it, since Great-aunt Petronella has increased my dowry so handsomely. It would be churlish to wish that she had not, but oh, Belinda, my good friend, Idowish it. Fifty thousand pounds! It is so lowering to feel that I must be worthy of her generosity and of Pa’s confidence in me. You know how I feel the weight of their expectations, but Pa has always said he will not force me into anything. And then it always seemed so far off, and not to be thought of until after Easter when we go to London, and perhaps even then it will not turn out as Mama wishes. Perhaps we shall not be able to move in more elevated society after all. That was always such a comfort to me, as you know, that I might never meet any lords at all and so there could be no question of it. But now — oh, Bel, I hardly know how to say this, but Mama thinks that Mr Michael Plummer is interested in me, and Pa said he would not object, and I begin to feel the bars of the cage closing around me. I try to remember Ricky’s advice to me — such wise words! — that I cannot be made to marry against my will, and certainly not anyone I dislike, but I should so hate to disappoint Pa when he is expecting such great things of me and I do not dislike Mr Plummer, not really. He is very gentlemanlike, and not in the least disagreeable, but still I cannot imagine myself married to him. Heavens, what a long moaning sort of letter this is! Be assured that we are all well and beginning to settle into our new home. I am sure there is no foundation for the worst of my fears, but there is no one here who truly enters into my feelings on the subject, not even Julia and Angie, and no one to whom I can talk. I so wish you were here. My fondest regards to you and Ricky, from your anxious and dispirited friend, Rosie.’
7: An Unexpected Encounter
James was restless. A whole day of rain always made him feel‘cabined, cribbed, confined’, as Shakespeare had it, and he knew exactly what the fellow meant. He had once had the misfortune to take ship across the Channel to France, and he had never been so miserable in his life, with nowhere to go and nothing to do, and no view but the endless roiling sea and the awful prospect of hours more of the same torture on the return journey. If he could have taken wings like a bird, or found himself a balloon to carry him back across the turbulent water, he would have done so.
Being unable to shoot that day, or even to walk or ride far, he had made his sodden way to the hut and settled himself there to clean his guns and drink a little brandy and be miserable. And if he opened one shutter and sat gazing out to the High Field gate, it was not from any expectation of seeing Miss Julia Fletcher there, it was only that he might see when the rain cleared. Or so he told himself. But she did not come and the rain did not clear, and he returned to the rectory in the same dismal frame of mind as when he had left it.
The next day was blessedly dry, so he took some bread and cheese for his breakfast and set off early for the hut. With a dozen rabbits, some pheasants, pigeon and a brace of snipe in his bag, he returned to the hut and ate his victuals sitting beside the same window. This time he admitted to himself that he would be glad to see the swinging legs and dishevelled hair of Miss Julia. But again she did not come.
Eventually, he made his way down to the Park to deposit his haul at the kitchen door, where Keeble, in his shirt sleeves and polishing apron, came to meet him.
“How are you getting on, Keeble?” James said. “Settling in here?”
Keeble pulled a face. “I dare say we’ll get used to their ways in time, Master James, but it’s hard, very hard.”
James looked at him thoughtfully. “Keeble, I hope you are treating the Fletchers with appropriate respect.”
The butler’s lips twisted into an expression that might have been a sneer. “I treat the mercer with all the respect appropriate to his station,” he said loftily.
“That is precisely what concerns me,” James said. “I would have you remember that Mr Fletcher may not hold the elevated rank of your former master, nor does he speak in quite the same manner, but, like all men, he should be judged by his actions. Does he mistreat any of you? Are his requirements onerous?”
“No, sir,” Keeble said stiffly.
“Has he quibbled over salaries?”
