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Authors: Deborah Swift

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At last the maidservants bustled in with the platters and the board was soon filled with dishes of meats and fowl. She was seated opposite Mr Bradstone. He was just as striking close up, with a
small, neat beard above his white ruff. He spoke in a cultured voice, his eyes were very pale blue and she noticed that the irises were almost white at the centre.

When he saw her looking, he smiled and her stomach lurched before she ventured what she hoped was a demure smile back. This might be the man she would marry. It sharpened her senses. She took in
everything about him. Her hand strayed up to pat her hair. Why had she not heeded Martha and let her dress it properly?

‘We cull mostly beaver,’ he was saying. ‘I employ about two hundred trappers out there.’

‘Two hundred?’ Father sucked on his lips. He was impressed.

‘I think most of the London milliners have beaverskin from Bradstone’s now. And coney, and musquash. The New World gives us access to more plentiful skins than we could ever obtain
in England. I just struck lucky and had ships ready at the right time.’

When he said ‘struck lucky’, she registered the slight Northern flatness to his vowels, but it only made his voice more appealing.

‘Do you wear fur, Miss Elspet?’ he asked.

‘I haven’t—’ she began, but Father threw her a pointed look. ‘Oh yes,’ she blurted out, ‘I love fur.’

And it was true; in the winter her fur-lined cloak was one of her most prized possessions. She loved the softness and warmth of its lining. But she had not had a new one for nigh on three years
and it was rubbed almost bald from wear.

‘Then I shall send enough pale coney to your dressmaker for a new winter cloak.’

She replied, ‘Sir, you are too kind, there is no need—’

Zachary interrupted her. ‘Cousin Elspet is skilled with the needle. Perhaps she will look to her father’s purse and make her own.’

‘Delighted,’ said Father, thankfully overriding them both. ‘You’ll give him the name of your dressmaker, won’t you, Elspet?’

‘Of course,’ she said, thinking to herself that she hadn’t been near Taylor’s shop for almost a twelvemonth and he would be mightily surprised to see her there after all
this time.

Aware of Zachary’s glances, she tried to fix him with a look which would deter him from giving Mr Bradstone any further humiliating details about her circumstances.

So the food was served, and her choice of dishes went down exceedingly well, though Zachary was always first to the plate again, notwithstanding they were entertaining. She tried to eat
daintily, as her father had suggested, which was easier than usual, as her stomach was so fluttery she could barely touch a bite.

Taking courage, she asked Mr Bradstone, ‘Are you often in town?’

At the same time Zachary enquired, ‘Do you fence?’ But Zachary’s voice was the louder.

She hung on Mr Bradstone’s answer.

‘Passably well,’ he said, pausing to chew. ‘These days I carry a powder weapon for my own safety as well as a rapier. My days of fighting for the cause are over, however. I am
concentrating on business now. And, you know, on board ship I’ve found it is as well to have a gun rather than a sword – such a confined space, you see.’

‘What sort? I mean, who made it?’ Zachary asked, leaning forward.

‘I left them in the hall. They’re a pair of Mitchison’s pistols, from Goldsmith’s Row. Nice walnut stocks. Actually, I’m quite pleased with them. You can come and
take a look after dinner. What about you?’

‘Zachary has a fine collection of swords, I’ve never seen so many . . .’ Too late she realized her mistake and shut her mouth abruptly.

‘Yes, you had a very good look at all my possessions.’ Zachary spoke in a low and level voice.

‘Is that so? What do you mean?’ Father asked, obviously sensing something odd.

She pressed the backs of her hands to her face, now uncomfortably hot.

‘Oh nothing,’ Zachary said airily. ‘Elspet and I were just getting acquainted.’

‘It was a misunderstanding, Father,’ she said miserably.

Father frowned and gave her a look she recognized as his ‘I am ashamed of you’ expression.

During this little interchange Mr Bradstone had been casting his eyes from one to the other of them with puzzlement. There was an awkward silence. Zachary raised his eyebrows at her.

Mr Bradstone was the soul of tact for, seeing her discomfiture, he changed the subject. ‘This is a splendid house. How many chambers have you here, Mr Leviston?’

‘Oh, there are a dozen,’ Father replied with relief. ‘Of course. I should have thought. You will want to see all that. I’ll take you around afterwards. Zachary can keep
Elspet company whilst I give you a tour.’

‘I’ll come with you, Father,’ she said, hurriedly.

She must steer Mr Bradstone away from the upper chamber where the panelling had been eaten by the worm, and have him look at the fine portrait of her mother rather than the disintegrating drapes
on the beds. Besides, she had no wish to be alone with her irritating cousin. God forbid. She would much rather find out more about Mr Bradstone.

But Father was firm. ‘No. I have a few things to discuss with Mr Bradstone, and we will be better undisturbed.’ He gave her a meaningful nod and smile, which Mr Bradstone could not
help but see, but did his best to politely ignore.

‘You have a house in Yorkshire, I believe?’ she asked him.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Several, actually. The chief being an estate of about four hundred acres. Mostly flax, some cattle. A fine deer park too. I have a good overseer to look to it
while I’m away.’

‘And how far away are you from London?’

‘Four, maybe three days’ ride in fine weather. A stone’s throw from the city of York.’ He seemed amused by her questioning, but answered with a frank gaze.

‘It sounds very nice,’ she said, regretting instantly such a feeble response. ‘I have never been to York.’

‘Then we must remedy that,’ he said, and Father smiled.

‘Come,’ Father said to Zachary, ‘let’s take a look at Hugh’s pistols before Hugh and I take a tour of the house.’

‘Mistress Leviston,’ Bradstone made a farewell bow and she dropped a curtsey again, lower than before. He met her eyes as she rose, and nodded to her. It was a nod of acceptance. She
could not help it, but she beamed at him like a child. Father and Zachary followed him into the hall. As soon as they were gone, she rang the bell and sent for Martha.

‘I know,’ she said, before Elspet had said a word. ‘You want me to dress your hair.’

‘How did you—?’

‘He’s a fine figure of a man. Such good legs. And his clothes! Cut velvet and shoes made of Spanish leather!’

She did not chide Martha for her forwardness. ‘I know. He’s not at all what I had expected.’

‘Your father has his head fixed on good and proper.’

‘He’s so tall. He looks down on me.’

‘Now sit still and I’ll dress your hair, I have the pins here.’

She fidgeted in the chair as Martha tugged and skewered her hair into place. Just as she had finished, Zachary returned.

‘You may go, Martha,’ he said.

‘But she—’ Elspet protested, but Zachary was giving Martha a look.

‘I’ve finished, mistress,’ Martha said, bobbing hurriedly to Zachary and bustling away.

Elspet turned to face the window, annoyed that he should be using his authority so freely in her house.

‘You’ve changed your hair,’ he said.

‘Yes.’ She turned. ‘Martha noticed a few pins were loose.’

‘If I were you, I’d be careful not to wear your heart too much on your sleeve, cousin.’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said, covering her embarrassment by brushing down her skirts.

‘A man likes a chase. It is the hunting instinct.’

She could not believe her ears. ‘You are too impertinent. It is none of your business.’

‘Ah, but it is. Your father has taken care to find you a good match, and they are not so easy to come by. I would not have him disappointed.’

‘He won’t be disappointed.’

‘Good, because the furrier has coin to invest in the business.’

‘And do my feelings in the matter count for nothing?’

He shrugged.

She let out a long sigh, then took a deep breath. Perhaps it was her fault they seemed to always be at sixes and sevens. ‘Look, cousin, I know we did not get off to a good start, but I
want us to be friends for my father’s sake. And I know I am at fault here; I did not bid you a proper welcome and I looked at your things without asking. My behaviour was unforgivable.
I’m sorry.’

He turned away, and for a moment she thought he was not going to reply, but then he said, ‘Why? Why were you snooping in my room?’

‘I was curious, that’s all. Wouldn’t you be? Father had never told me anything about you or your family, and he still hasn’t. It’s remiss of him, and the servants
have started gossiping already, making up all manner of nonsense –’

‘What? What have they been saying?’

‘I dare not even repeat it.’

‘Then why bring it up at all?’ He glared at her.

The door flew open and Father and Mr Bradstone breezed in, laughing together at some joke. She remembered her manners, glanced helplessly at her cousin and went to greet them. Zachary moved
nonchalantly to the side, as if the conversation had never happened, and sat down with one leg hitched over the other on one of the upright chairs.

‘And this is such a fine position here, overlooking the river,’ Mr Bradstone said.

‘I have always thought so too,’ she agreed.

‘Mr Bradstone was asking whether you might like to accompany him to view his ships on the east docks?’ Father said.

She opened her mouth to reply, but then paused. She wondered about Zachary’s words, and decided to try to be more enigmatic. After all, she did want Hugh Bradstone to like her. ‘I
thank you, sir. If you tell me the date, I will consult with my diary and see how it might fit with my other engagements.’

‘Other engagements?’ Father was incredulous. ‘What other engagements?’

‘Oh, this and that.’ They stared at her expectantly. ‘I promised a friend I would meet her to look over some cushions she is embroidering, and then there are one or two supper
engagements –’ Damn Zachary, it was all much more awkward than she had envisaged. The three men watched her flounder, before she blurted out, ‘If you send your manservant with the
date I shall see if I am free. My maid will bring you my reply.’

‘Very well,’ Mr Bradstone said, seeming not to take offence in the slightest. ‘I will send word with the time and place. I hope we will meet again soon.’

She made obeisance to him once more, her heart all a shiver. After that the men retired to her father’s chambers and she was left alone again in the chamber.

Of course it was nigh-on impossible to settle to any of her usual activities whilst the handsome Mr Bradstone was just beyond the door, so she pretended to supervise the servants clearing the
dishes, and hovered uncertainly at the fireplace, toasting her feet in the unaccustomed warmth and waiting for some sign that the men might re-emerge.

They would be talking of her, she was certain of it, and she dreaded to think what Zachary might be saying. She wanted Mr Bradstone to think well of her. Hugh Bradstone, her father called him.
It was a good, old name. She liked the sound of it.

She reappraised their chamber with the battered panelling and the threadbare rugs. If only, she thought, imagining them replaced by fine tapestries and sumptuous carpets. She could do a lot
worse, she reasoned with herself. They would make a fine couple. Hugh Bradstone was a good-looking, devout man of some means. And he seemed pleasant-natured too. Exactly what she had always hoped
for in a husband. Except that she had not thought she was ready for marriage, that was all. It would take a little getting used to if her father was set on it. But then she glimpsed a sudden sense
of freedom: she would be her own mistress, away from Father and his stinginess, away from this irksome cousin. If Bradstone asked for her hand, she supposed she would agree. She felt a fleeting
sense of loss, the sort of loss when a choice of a new hat is made and you suddenly realize that you can no longer have any of the other just-as-beautiful hats in the milliners.

Chapter 7

Zachary relaxed on his bed, arms tucked behind his head, and sighed contentedly. Perhaps his uncle had thought him so unused to the finer things of life that he would never
notice gristle on the meat. But for once his supposed cousin Elspet had ordered a decent cut of venison, and there had been a plump braised partridge to go with it, not to mention a whole duck
stuffed with onions and herbs. All in honour of the Yorkshire fur-trader.

I could get accustomed to this, Zachary thought, easy as jacks.

When the conversation with Bradstone had got too dull, Zachary suggested that they played a hand or two of cards in Uncle Leviston’s chamber, and his uncle readily agreed. Needless to say,
Bradstone fluffed the bidding and lost without knowing why, and in the end Zachary had to deliberately lose so as to keep Uncle Leviston’s face.

Zachary undid the laces on his breeches to let his full stomach have a little more room, and pondered the evening’s events. Bradstone was about as sharp as a feather bolster. Cousin Elspet
was taken with him, though – why did women always go for well-wrapped fellows with nothing between their ears? It was a mystery. When he told her to give Bradstone a bit of a chase, he
wasn’t expecting her to turn chilly so suddenly – he meant for her to tease him a little, not to turn cold as a trout.

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