Authors: Anna Faversham
“Raffles was impressed by your
writing. You will remember how affected he was and how he drew the
audience’s attention to the moral lessons contained within.”
Adam paused to look carefully at Alexandra. “He believes you
would be a great asset to him as a wife. Many a parson’s wife
writes the sermons. Do you not see yourself as a major influence in
the lives of his parishioners?”
“Do you, Adam?” There. She
had given him a chance to declare himself – or at least to give
direction to her thoughts.
“I believe you would be one of
the most effective teams the church has ever known. A mighty force
for God and for good. And there is a good deal to be said for
Providence having sent you.”
Alexandra looked overwhelmed.
“Foremost though,” Adam
persisted, “marriage is about the love of one man for one woman
and its reciprocation. Together they create a haven from which many
people can draw strength to go out into the world at large and offer
a clear direction to those who have lost their way.”
A tear trickled down Alexandra’s
cheek. She had misjudged this man. He was all good. And she had
snubbed him consistently since that night she saw him in the village.
Had she been mistaken?
“If you do not feel you could
come to love Raffles, I would counsel that you ought not to marry
him.”
The vision of pipe-smoking Father Fox
shaking his head, producing two columns of smoke rings, floated
before her eyes.
“I cannot encourage Raffles’
attentions, Adam. I regret any encouragement I may have already
offered him. I had thought of him as a true friend and I should not
wish to lose the fellowship we all share.”
“That is all you need say,
Alexandra. I shall convey your high regard for him but indicate that
you do not wish to marry and that he should seek a wife elsewhere.”
He paused just long enough to give weight to his next words, “It
is important that you do not call him by the familiar ‘Raffles’
then, whatever he may say. You must revert to giving his office full
respect.”
Alexandra understood. She wished she
hadn’t asked to call him Raffles; she remembered she often
seemed to have difficulty adapting to preferred manners after banter
with Billy. “I shall not be any hindrance to his finding a good
lady helpmeet. Please convey to him I am honoured that he should ask.
I truly am. I do indeed have a high regard for him. But…”
She almost added ‘I love another’.
Hide in Time ~ Anna Faversham
After dinner that night, both Alexandra
and Catherine excused themselves from repairing to the sitting room.
They slipped up the stairs to Alexandra’s room and awaited
Billy’s signal.
“You’ve done this before,
haven’t you, Alexandra?”
“Oh Catherine, I should be able
to say ‘no’ but that wouldn’t be right.”
“Aren’t you afraid?”
“I ought to be, I know, but I’m
not. Perhaps you shouldn’t come, Catherine?”
“Oh I wouldn’t miss this
spectacle, Alexandra. It sounds fascinating. Adam would be furious
though.”
“You will be quite safe,
Catherine. Billy is well able to take care of us.”
A low whistle drew them to the window
and Billy beckoned them to come down. With cloaks wrapped around
them, they tiptoed past the sitting room; no need to worry about the
men wandering around the house just yet – they’d be
drinking port. Slipping out via the morning room door, they followed
Billy to the stables where he helped them on to their respective
mounts. Billy prepared to walk beside them.
“Take old Polly,” Catherine
suggested to him.
“No, Miss Leigh-Fox. I could not
do that. It’s not far and I can move pretty fast and unseen in
the dark.”
Indeed he could and it was not long
before the party arrived at the edge of town, close to the tavern.
“Hide yourselves in that clump of trees, Miss Mulberry, and I
will arrange for the men to give you a display like you’ve
never seen before.” Billy punched the air.
Catherine and Alexandra tied their
horses to one of the trees, wrapped their cloaks around them tightly,
and sat on the damp ground. “We shouldn’t stay long,”
Alexandra said. “Just long enough to see if we’ve made a
difference to their lives.”
A group of six peg-legged men emerged
from the tavern and took up their rehearsed formation to the right of
Catherine and Alexandra. Another half-dozen old soldiers held
lanterns at intervals along the road. Billy, having acquired a drum,
gave a roll and the display began. They all scooted forwards
together, gathering speed along the dirt road until they reached the
designated turning point. Alexandra could see they had their wooden
pegs inserted into a hollow scooped out by Billy. Then one by one
they scooted back, demonstrating their skills and clearly enjoying
themselves as they stamped their peg-legs on the back of the
wheel-boards causing them to fly up so they could catch them and give
a bow.
A crowd had gathered to watch and there
was much applause for their antics. It was clear that none of them
had consumed too much drink, as Alexandra had feared. Then, gathering
in a V formation in front of Alexandra and Catherine, Billy sounded
the drum roll, and with one accord they shouted, “Thrash the
frogs. On to victory.” Alexandra stood up, clapped and cheered,
and Catherine enthusiastically followed her example. The old soldiers
turned, triumphantly stamped on the boards again and caught them,
then gave three cheers to Alexandra.
“We must go,” said
Catherine beginning to shiver. “Will Billy escort us home?”
“He will,” said Alexandra
signalling him.
“Why don’t you tell Adam,
Alexandra? He’d be so proud of you.”
“Yes, I’m wrong to keep it
quiet. I’ll show him what Billy has made and he can come and
see for himself that it ‘enables the disabled’.”
“He probably knows already; there
isn’t much that escapes his notice, Alexandra.”
“Hmm, I’d wondered about
that. Your father is also more aware of matters than he makes out, is
that no so?”
“Indeed. I am so proud of them
both.”
Billy helped them mount their horses
and they turned towards “Foxhills” leaving the lantern
lights behind.
“Worked well, Miss Mulberry. They
all say it’s not practical for generally getting around on
these roads, but it’s good to have something they can carry,
put down, and get up a bit of speed when possible.”
“So inventing one things means
you need to attend to another,” Catherine said thoughtfully.
“That’s progress, I
suppose, Catherine.”
“Or jobs for the working man,”
added Billy. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, ‘some
hopes,’ and walked ahead slowly, taking a different path to the
route they had come by. “It’s easier for me to escort you
if we go via Wells, Miss Mulberry, and only the one, short, steep
climb.”
Catherine responded quickly, “Then
that is the way we shall go,” she said moving ahead of
Alexandra. “I have often wondered what the village looks like
of an evening. Do they have lamps glowing in the windows?”
How comforting it must be to be
innocent, Alexandra thought. The memory of Adam visiting a village
girl’s house at night returned to displace her feelings of
being, finally, useful. “Their candles are extinguished quite
early, Catherine.”
“I presume it is to save money,”
Catherine said in a matter-of-fact manner.
Billy, still jogging ahead, turned to
say, “Save money! They haven’t got any money to buy the
candles in the first place, and when they’re low on tallow fats
they can’t even make any.” A cautionary look from
Alexandra cooled his anger and he quietly added, “Anyway,
they’ve all got to get up early next day.”
“Of course,” said Catherine
feeling humbled.
Alexandra knew how Catherine would be
feeling, after all, had she not made many naïve assumptions
herself? She sniffed the air. “Catherine, can you smell the
smoke? Some villagers must be cosying up around glowing embers –
smell.”
“Cosying up?”
Drat, thought Alexandra, I just seem to
make matters worse. “Oh I just imagined a young couple sitting
in front of a dying fire together and feeling warm and cosy
together.” She refrained from mentioning that the whole room
could be full of smoke if the wind was strong; poverty was not at all
romantic.
Catherine took a deep breath. “Why
yes. Cold, biting air outside: warm comfort inside. A sense of
security together.” Alexandra sensed Billy’s dismissive
response which, thankfully, he kept to himself. Sometime in his
mysterious past, he must have known a lot about life.
At last, the track widened as it came
into the village. Instead of allowing the riders a little more room,
Billy caught hold of Catherine’s reins with his right hand and
cautioned them both to be silent. Black, caught off-guard, whinnied.
“I can’t be sure,”
said Billy, “but I think someone is scrambling up the far
bank.” He turned to look at Alexandra, and shook his head.
“I’ll go after him,”
said Alexandra wrenching the reins from Billy.
Billy caught hold of her leg,
preventing her from spurring Holly forwards. “’scuse me,
Miss Mulberry. I can’t allow that. You’re in my care.”
Try as she might, Alexandra could not
free her leg from the firm grip of Billy. Holly became unsettled and
Alexandra gave up. “Ok, you win, Billy, but let go of my leg.”
Catching sight of Catherine’s startled face, she whispered,
“Forgive me, Catherine. Billy and I understand each other. It
is I who owe you both an apology as we did promise to stay within his
care.”
Holly and Black settled as, with firm
hands, Billy led them forwards. “Stop here, Billy,” said
Alexandra as they drew level with the cottage where she’d
previously found money hidden. She dismounted and cautiously moved
the box on the doorstep; there was a single gold sovereign. She
replaced the box, mounted Holly with assistance, and with a heart as
heavy as a thousand sovereigns, she followed Billy and Catherine who
both seemed to be awaiting a comment. None came.
The horses ably climbed the steep slope
and, as they came in sight of “Foxhills”, Billy said,
“I’ll keep watch as you trot on home, Miss Mulberry.
You’d best be silent as ghosts or you’ll be in trouble.”
“Thank you, Billy,”
Alexandra said. She wanted to shake his hand, hug him in gratitude –
but it wasn’t good form. She’d unsettled Catherine rather
too much already and now she could see Catherine was shivering.
“Nearly home. Let’s go.”
To add to the downturn in the evening’s
events, it began to rain. Although Billy had left the wrought iron
gates unfastened, when they reached them they were locked. “I’m
so sorry, Catherine. I should not have led you astray. Please forgive
me. I know Adam will be cross if he discovers our exploits.”
“I’ve never had such an
adventure and I’d risk it again any time. Perhaps I’ll
wait for the summer though, as I am very, very cold.”
“Wet through too. Stand close to
the wall, Catherine. It will grant a little protection.”
The rain and their predicament spurred
Billy to run. “I’ll get the key from the stables. This is
mischief,” he said indicating the locked gates.
This is Adam, thought Alexandra.
Billy hoisted himself onto Holly, the
taller and steadier of the two horses, then stood on the saddle and
clambered over the wall. He uttered an oath as he landed. “He’s
fallen onto the rose bushes,” said Catherine looking very
worried.
When he returned with the key,
Alexandra took a quick look at a prickly shrub that had been badly
damaged. She tried to improve its appearance, scratching herself
badly. Blood oozed from her hand. Drat, she’d no handkerchief.
She grasped Holly’s reins and ran to catch up with Billy and
Catherine. Just as she rounded the corner at the back of the stables
she slipped and fell. What more could go wrong? Billy helped her up
immediately and she brushed the mud from her bloodied hand. “Looks
nasty, Miss Mulberry. Promise me you’ll get that cleaned up
right away.”
“It’s only a scratch. I’ll
rinse off the mud and it’ll be fine. It’s Catherine, I’m
worried about.”
“Get her inside, ’n’
take her wet clothes off,” Billy said clutching Holly’s
reins. “Hurry. She’ll need a hot drink and a warm bed
fast. Nip of brandy too, if you can get your hands on some.”
Alexandra could not stop herself from
whispering, “Billy, will you check the other horses and see if
one of them has been out?”
~
The following morning, Millie brought
Alexandra her breakfast at the usual time and squealed, “Miss
Mulberry, wake up, please.” She put the tray down and
surreptitiously shook Alexandra and, as the sleeper stirred, Millie
plumped up the pillows. “Miss Leigh-Fox is not well. She says
to tell you she is staying in bed this morning.”
Alexandra thought that was a very good
idea; it had been a tiring day and, for Alexandra, ultimately
distressing. It might be wise for her not to follow Catherine’s
lead, though. Both of them arriving down late might arouse suspicion.
“She doesn’t look well,”
said Millie with her best meaningful look being lost on the
distracted Alexandra. But as Alexandra began to toy with her
breakfast, a niggle worked its way into her consciousness –
suppose it wasn’t just a ploy? Suppose she was feverish?
Once dressed, Alexandra decided to
check on Catherine herself. She was propped up in bed and snuffling.
“Only a chill, Alexandra. Nothing worse.” Alexandra sat
on the side of the bed and felt her forehead. “You’re a
little warm. Here, let me plump these pillows up for you and I’ll
ask Millie to come and attend to you.” Catherine leant
forwards, Alexandra pulled the pillows into shape, and Catherine
gratefully sank back – and sneezed.
“Definitely a chill, and we
should take great care of you. I’ll be back soon.”