Brothers at Arms (59 page)

Mary-Anne was brimming over with pride at her sister’s achievement.

“There’s not much of Ned Dereham to see in him yet, but Tess isn’t worried. To be honest with you, he was an ugly sort of a chap. But I mustn’t speak ill of the dead.”

He hardly dared continue. “What has your sister named him?”

“Well, sir,” Mary-Anne looked sideways at him, “that’s the strange thing. I thought that having lost her husband, she would have named the child after him. But no, she picked up the Good Book, and found a name there.”

“And what did she decide?”

“Joshua. I don’t know what made her choose that name, when there were so many others,” she said, shaking her head.

“My name is Joshua,” he said, striving for a casual tone.

“Ah, then maybe I mentioned it to Tess in passing, and she likened it to the child. Yes, that must be it.” The laundress seemed pleased with the conclusion she reached.

Joshua looked away, his heart singing. It did not matter now to whom the baby belonged; he knew Tess would remember him. He turned back to face Mary-Anne, knowing what he must do.

“I wonder if you would be good enough to do something for me. There’s an old tradition in my home county of giving a purse of money to a newborn child, which is supposed to be lucky. I would like to give something to your sister for the baby. I hope she won’t be offended.”

“Oh, no, sir; Tess is not the kind to take offence.” She stopped, as if deliberating about something, and then said, confidentially, “It’s a good thing she did come back to work at the Hall, for it’s almost a year since Ned Dereham died. This time she can marry a decent man with a cottage, who’ll look after her and the baby.”

He looked stunned. “Your sister is to remarry…?”

“Widows don’t stay single long, sir. She knew Jim Dunbar years ago, and might have married him the first time, but father didn’t approve of a gamekeeper, him being a bit of a poacher on the side, before he took up fishing.”

Bemused, Joshua bestowed the promised gift and left her.

Having said his farewells, Joshua climbed into the Linmore coach, and as he sank back against the comfortable squabs of the seat, he breathed in the familiar smell of leather, feeling nostalgic. It made him anxious to see Aunt Jane and tell her all his adventures – well, not everything. Some things it was better not to divulge. He was glad he did not mention Tess in his letters, and there was no reason now. Mary Anne’s news had surprised him, but he was glad that Tess would have a better life married to Jim Dunbar, than with her second husband. He did, however, wonder what Dunbar would think of her choice of the baby’s name.

Meeting his father’s gaze across the coach, Joshua decided that he wanted to explain more about the events at Kings Lynn. “I think that you would have liked Lady Gransden,” he said. “She reminded me of Aunt Winifred.”

“I can’t fault her on that,” said his father, “but I noticed that her husband had similar mannerisms to Lord Cardington.”

“That was my impression also, sir,” Joshua said, glad to share his thoughts.

“I am curious to know how this formidable lady dealt with the situation.”

Joshua could still visualise the scene, with amazing clarity.

“She swept into the vestibule scolding; saying that the crowd of onlookers was preventing Colonel Eccleshall from entering the building. The mention of his name was enough to vanquish even the boldest soldier. They all disappeared, dragging Charlie Cobarne with them.” He revelled in the knowledge of their discomfiture.

“And then…?”

“She insisted that I escorted her around the periphery of the assembly rooms, and dared anyone to challenge her supremacy. It was a kindness I didn’t expect from a stranger, but she implied that it was as much for her benefit as my own.”

“So the evening went on as before?”

“I wasn’t sure if anyone would want to dance with me, but Melissa, that’s one of Michael’s sisters, asked to bring our first dance forward. After that, no one refused to acknowledge me.” He thought about her comments over supper and smiled to himself.

“Clearly she is her mother’s daughter.”

“More so than her father,” Joshua said. “She’s only about sixteen.”

“Aunt Jane was that age when I first met her,” his father said softly.

Joshua glanced out the window and tried to remember how many years had passed since he had travelled alone with his father. Far too many and there hadn’t been a single time in his adult life without Charlie and Sophie Cobarne being with them. He hadn’t thought like that at the time but he did now.

He looked back and found his father watching him. “I’m looking forward to going home,” he said, feeling the need to say something. “Holkham is a wonderful place, but it’s not the same as Linmore.”

It wasn’t what he wanted to say, so he closed his eyes, and then opened them again, anxious not to miss anything. As they drove past the end of the lake, he gazed towards the icehouse atop the grassy slope, and the next thing he knew, they were trotting up the rise towards the obelisk, built in direct line with the Hall.

“Can we stop for a few minutes, please?”

The coachman slowed as soon as his father hammered on the roof with his cane. Joshua climbed outside, wanting to take a final look down the long sweep of the drive towards the Hall.

He stood for a long moment, committing everything to memory. Holkham was a perfect example of the Palladian design, with the trees and lake stretching into the distance through the park. Then there was the stable block, out towards the walled garden and the church on the hill. He felt a rush of emotion, knowing he would miss this place. It was as familiar now as Linmore.

Realising it was time to move on. Joshua climbed back into his seat. He felt the coach sway as it gathered pace down the long slope, past the turn to the great barn, until it slowed again on the approach to the south lodge.

His last glimpse of Holkham was the view back to the obelisk as the coach turned through the archway; a poignant moment, when he closed his eyes and let the memories wash over him…

Tom Norbery felt inordinately proud – and relieved that Joshua had justified Mr Coke’s trust in his ability. When he left for Holkham, Tom did not know how it would end, whereas Jane, knowing Joshua so well, never lost faith.

Last year, he felt devastated by the break-up of the family. He knew Charlie felt betrayed, and Joshua similarly shocked by Sophie’s behaviour.

If only he, Tom, had warned Joshua of her obsession in advance, maybe they could have avoided the disaster that culminated with Ed Salter’s injury. Thankfully, it was not fatal, but it might well have been.

It never occurred to anyone that she would precipitate a crisis of such magnitude. Seeing her in London, Tom knew she realised what she had done, but was helpless to change the outcome. Their talk before her marriage proved that.

Poor Sophie; it was the first time he had known her to rush her fences. How mortifying for a rider with her accomplishments to take a fall.

Considering the uproar at the time, Tom was pleased everything worked out so well. Millie was safely married, so there was no need to mention her new addition.

Looking at Joshua, facing him on the opposite side of the coach, Tom saw sadness in his face at leaving Holkham. More than that, it showed a new maturity and determination around the mouth. The sorrowful boy who left home had gone, and the man he would be emerged.

Similarly, his build had changed. The black coat he wore fitted snugly across the shoulders, evidence of muscular strength acquired doing physical work. He felt gratified, hearing of Joshua’s determination to gain practical skills, which ensured he would be a landowner with the knowledge to do things the right way. With him in charge, Linmore’s future was safe.

His mind drifted to other things. Who could have foreseen a meeting between Joshua and Charlie Cobarne in Kings Lynn? Tom had seen him at Sophie’s wedding, and once in uniform after Christmas, when he was in London, accompanying his sister and her husband to a social function. Their meeting was rigidly formal, partly, he suspected, because of Charlie’s scarcely concealed embarrassment.

He was glad Sophie greeted him with undisguised friendship, her pregnant state carefully disguised in the folds of her flowing robe. In the spring, he received a hastily scrawled letter, telling of her safe delivery of a daughter; and recently a request for him to stand proxy for Charlie at the baptism, which his military duties prevented him attending.

Tom was happy to oblige, and gained the reassurance he needed, that Linmore played no part in the procreation of Sophie’s child. There were too many months between. Equally, its healthy size did not fit the dates of her marriage, so whoever fathered the child must have known her in the biblical sense whilst she lived at Cavendish Square. Winifred was right in her assertion, but who was it?

He sat, alternating between reading Joshua’s work diary, watching his son in repose, and marvelling at how like Jane he was. One day soon, they must tell him, but it was too complicated to give a hasty explanation, and Jane would want to be with them. Their son needed her reassurance he was not the one born out of wedlock – that they had done things the way they had to protect Caroline. Now she was married, things were different.

Across the coach, Joshua roused from sleep and looked around.

“Where are we?” he said. “This looks like the road to Fakenham.”

Tom nodded, and as they passed through the village, he said, “I trust you’ve not had any more financial embarrassments?”

“No, sir,” Joshua hastened to reassure. “Michael and James, the other students, were keen card players, but I felt it best to refrain. I spent the time completing my work book, or writing the occasional letter.”

“Mm, yes, so I see,” said Tom.

A look of dismay crossed Joshua’s face as a folded sheet of paper floated to the floor from the front cover piece of his diary. He lunged forward to intercept, but Tom swooped down and scooped it up in his hand. His eye caught the name.

“Lady Rosemary Chervil?” he said. “Is she one of the Kenchester-Chervils?”

From Joshua’s look of embarrassment, Tom realised he had strayed into uncharted territory. His manner was different to when he spoke of Melissa Gransden, to whose mother Tom intended writing a letter of thanks on his son’s behalf.

“Yes, sir,” he said. “I… um… we met Lady Rosie, with her grandmother, the Dowager Lady Kenchester at the Embassy in Athens. They were en route from India, and travelled with us to Rome.”

Lady Rosie?
Tom’s brows raised in surprise. “I had not realised you moved in such august circles. The Kenchester ladies are reputed to be notoriously select in their choice of company.”

Joshua’s explanation became increasingly confused.

“Lady Kenchester was a nervous traveller, and Lady Rosie was grateful to Sergeant Percival for helping her grandmother board the ship to Rome. We failed on two occasions, and might have been forced to remain in Athens for the winter.”

Tom felt a bubble of mirth rising inside. If Joshua was on such terms of familiarity to call the lady by what would be a pet name, then this was more than a mere flirtation. Maybe, a word with Percival would elicit more information.

The amusement in his voice deepened.

“I am delighted Percival was able to be of service to the lady. A formidable matriarch, if her son is to be believed.”

“You know Lord Kenchester, sir?” Joshua looked aghast.

“Of course, Joshua, I am acquainted with any number of peers in the House of Lords. Lady Rosemary must be his…”

“His eldest daughter, I believe, sir, but she lives with her grandmother.”

Tom nodded, knowing that Winifred had mentioned her name in connection with Gus Pontesbury.

“Yes, I recall hearing of her before. I think she was betrothed, but left her bridegroom-to-be almost at the altar steps. It caused quite an upset to the family at the time. That must have been when her grandmother took her into care.”

“I see,” Joshua said.

“If I had known of your prior acquaintance with the lady, I could have introduced you to her father at Holkham, when we took breakfast together. He would have answered your questions. If you wish, I can frank this and send it to Lord Kenchester’s home, requesting him to forward it to his daughter?

“No… Thank you, sir.” Joshua thrust his hand out to retrieve the letter.

Tom smiled as he replaced the letter in the diary, and handed it to Joshua. He had teased him enough.

Clutching the book in his hands, Joshua closed his eyes and then opened them again. “Where are we going?” he said. “This isn’t the road to Peterborough?”

“No, it’s the one to Thetford, where we will stay tonight,” said Tom. “Tomorrow, we will head towards London and from there to France. Aunt Winifred has taken the lease on a house in Paris, and invited us to spend a few weeks with the family.”

“Paris?” said Joshua. “But I thought…”

“The city is open to visitors again,” said Tom. “Everyone has been flocking there since the Peace Treaty was signed. My colleague, Charles Fox, assured me that he was going. I expect we will see him at the embassy functions.”

Seeing Joshua’s look of bemusement, he elaborated further. “I always intended you to see more of Europe, but the war curtailed it. This visit is by way of compensation. You must have some incentive for when you take over management of the estate.”

Joshua stared. “What do you mean… take over?”

“In the light of your experiences at Holkham, I have little doubt there will be changes you will want to introduce. It will be your responsibility to see they work. When you were saying farewell to your friends, Mr Coke advised me to let you put your stamp on Linmore, and that is what I intend. Does it meet with your approval?”

“Yes, thank you, sir,” Joshua said. “In fact, Mr Blakeney helped me to develop a plan for the estate, which you might like to consider.”

“You can tell me about it en route to the Channel coast.”

After a few minutes’ thought, Joshua continued. “What about the peace? Do you think it will hold?”

“One must hope so, although there are dissenters who feel we gave too many concessions. Only time will tell.”