Maggie's Child (18 page)

‘My, what I would not do to have a dance with that one on New Year’s Evening. Do you think he knows he bears a handsome face?’ Lizzie had stopped to give her arms a rest, and watched the carriage disappear around the corner.

‘Oh, I am certain, Mr Avenell is fully aware of his influence upon women.’ Maggie did not want to spoil the mood and linger around talking about Stephen. Just a fleeting glance of him had set her heart a flutter. He was a fantasy, not a practical part of her life.

A few moments later carriage wheels could be heard behind them. Maggie was irritated by the sound. If Stephen thought he could flirt his way around her, and so blatantly in front of Lizzie, she would have to put him in his rightful place.

‘Ladies, you are laden well I see. May I lighten your load and offer you a lift back to the farm?’

Maggie whispered to Lizzie. ‘Keep walking and ignore him. He is after something. The rich always are.’

Lizzie’s voice was sharp with annoyance.

‘You are so ungrateful, Maggie Sawbury. He might be a rich’un but at least he has offered us a lift. More than your husband.’ She put down her packages, and this time Maggie followed suit. Lizzie was right. And they did need transport home.

‘Mr Avenell. A pleasant surprise. What a gift you are for our arms. Mine are so stretched they touch the ground, and I am sure Lizzie here suffers the same. Thank you, we would be most grateful of a ride home. I note you have turned around for that very purpose, and it would be rude of us to refuse.’ Maggie kept what she hoped was an impassive face. Inside she could feel a smile bloom, but she could not afford to allow it to flourish. Lizzie must never be aware there was or ever had been a hint of romance between the two of them. ‘If you have remembered business with my husband, I am afraid you turned around for no reason. He sits at a meeting of business within a local tavern. As you can see he is nowhere to be seen.’

‘Ah, you surmise correctly I did wonder if he was nearby. I will return to ask him my question after I have taken you home. Thank you Mrs Sawbury and I am well aware of the tavern he conducts his business in, it is a popular one with the farmers. I enjoy driving, so an extended journey is not a weary task for me. The company of yourself and your delightful companion will only add to the pleasure.’

Lizzie giggled but kept silent.

Maggie was relieved Stephen had helped her keep face, and kept the conversation on the way home light and cheery. She made general enquiries about his family and the pending dance. All the while she wanted to throw her arms around his neck and receive one of his body tingling kisses. The man was impossible to walk away from and Maggie failed to keep control of her feelings for him when he was around.

Back at the farm, the packages were unloaded and Stephen was offered a glass of refreshment.

‘Thank you kindly, sir, for assisting us. Most gentry would have ignored us. May I offer you a glass of something or are you in need of returning to the village?’

‘It was no trouble at all, Mrs Sawbury. We must all help our fellow man despite our position in life,’ Stephen said and Maggie was not surprised he declined. She had tried to portray the difference in their class levels, in the hope he would leave. The longer time she spent in his company, the stronger her desire for him became.

‘I bid you both goodbye and look forward to seeing the hard workers of Windtop enjoying themselves in the home of my parents in the near future.’

Maggie again took the opportunity of reminding him of her place in the class ranks.

‘Goodbye, Mr Avenell, and thank you for your kindness towards us today. Our packages were heavier than we had anticipated. They contain our outfits for the squire’s party. It is an honour to be invited and an exciting time for us here on the farm. We have many friends amongst your servants; it will be quite the reunion for some.’

Stephen frowned. Maggie had succeeded. He gave a small bow and returned to his carriage. She closed the door, not wishing to watch him drive away. Lizzie was untying the parcels when a knock at the door made them both jump. Maggie opened the door to see Stephen Avenell standing in front of her, his face flushed.

‘Remember chemistry, Mrs Sawbury. Chemistry cannot be ignored. ’ His face had a seriousness about it, and Maggie replied with what she hoped was a level tone in her voice and an expressionless face.

‘Thank you, Mr Avenell. I will remember to mention it to my husband, upon his return. Now if you’ll forgive me, I am rather busy.’ She saw a flicker of amusement cross his face, but she would not rise to the temptation of responding further. Slowly she closed the door. If he did not return to his carriage, the door would be shut in his face. She pleaded with her eyes.

Please move. Go. Lizzie is going to get suspicious. Leave
.

He turned and left her to close the door with peace of mind.

‘Well that were a strange thing to say. Chemistry? What on earth was he talking about? ‘Lizzie was shaking out their new clothes and Maggie was grateful for the cool air that wafted across her hot cheeks.

‘Oh, it is to do with farming. He and Jacob had a discussion some time back about machinery on farms, and the natural techniques. I tell you, he is an odd one. The day he is squire of the village will be an interesting one. He is full of new fangled ideas.’ Maggie said flippantly and hoped she sounded convincing. She also hoped Lizzie would forget the whole conversation. If she brought it up in front of Jacob, Maggie would have a hard time explaining her story away.

She picked out the length of material Jacob had chosen.

‘I have a question for you. Do you want to make the neck scarf or kerchief, for our own lord of the manor? I must say, for all his rough ways, Jacob has a good eye for a fine piece of fabric.’ She hoped the idea would put Lizzie off the scent and ensure she forgot the unusual conversation.

***

 Christmas Day had been pleasant in the Sawbury home. A large, plump turkey -it had been secretly named by Mason as Jacob because of its puffed out chest - had been roasted. Plum suet pudding was greeted with shouts of delight, and brandy flamed to perfection. Everyone had sat in the front parlour of the farmhouse beautifully decorated by Maggie. She had collected greenery from the fields and built up a crackling fire, using pine logs saved for the occasion. The room was a happy one, and Maggie cherished the moment, she knew the next day would be back to normal.

The happy atmosphere returned on the last day of the year. This was the day they had been waiting for, a chance to be entertained. To see in the New Year in style. Mason and one of the farmhands washed down the largest dray and the ladies decorated it with ribbons and greenery. Maggie and Lizzie made padded cushions from a mix of straw and sacking. They were enveloped into pillowslips in order to prevent staining their Sunday best and new outfits. The largest of the shire horses had its mane plaited and harness blackened. Although not the most luxurious means of transport, it was most certainly a smart one.

Maggie and Lizzie helped each other prepare and dress their hair. Water was boiled and vinegar was added. They washed out the grime from their daily chores. While Lizzie finished her last duties of the day, Maggie had made a glycerine and rose water hair freshener. Lizzie opted for a chignon style and Maggie persuaded her to have two small plaits twisted over each ear. Maggie’s style was taken from a ladies journal she had glimpsed while in the village. It was a loose chignon at the base of the neck, tied with an ivory ribbon. The small bun was surrounded by ringlets that sat across her shoulders. She had small ones in soft wisps framing her face.

‘A face of an angel. That is what I am reminded of when I look at you, Maggie gal. Soft and innocent. You have a magic touch too, look what you have and done with my wiry locks. They have never looked so tidy, and the shine is wonderful. Thank you.’ Lizzie passed the hand glass to Maggie.

A face of an angel never stared back at Maggie. It was a woman who for the first time ever admired herself. She allowed herself one moment of self satisfaction.

Jacob had dressed earlier and slipped out to speak with Mason. He marched back into the kitchen and shouted.

‘Are you women ready yet? Preening yourselves for no reason. Hurry or we will leave without you.’

Maggie was in the parlour where she had a larger framed mirror. She had finished with Lizzie and was putting the last touches to her own hair. It was her intention to put a lace cream drape over her head, and opted not to wear a bonnet. Tonight was a night when a woman could conform or change fashion. Maggie opted for the latter. Memories of Stephen letting her hair loose in the summer made her bold and daring. She heard Jacob’s voice boom out from the kitchen and her heart sank. He always managed to chase away her fantasy.

‘By Lizzie girl, you are a sight for sore eyes tonight.’ Jacob’s compliment to her friend indicated he had started his celebrations early.

To her credit, Maggie heard Lizzie respond in a light hearted manner.

‘You look dashing I must say, Jacob. Every much the gent.’

Maggie entered the kitchen. She wanted to giggle at the sight of her husband preening himself in the hand glass. She looked at the arrogant male before her. He had used pomade on his hair and it was slicked back leaving his frown lines on show. In reality he looked ridiculous, but Maggie knew he would be looking for compliments. She took a leaf from Lizzie’s book and complimented him.

‘Husband, you cut a fine cloth tonight. Your neckerchief compliments your eyes. The waistcoat was a well chosen item. I see you are wearing your father’s pocket watch, he would have been proud of you tonight attending the home of the squire.’ She could hear the words and disliked their sound, but she fully intended to enjoy the night. If it meant adding to Jacob’s ego she was prepared to do just that. He puffed out his chest, and she knew she had said the right thing.

‘Tis a shame you have to stand beside me, but beggars cannot be choosers. Everyone is fully aware you are no portrait, so there will be little disappointment. Are you ready to leave? I am not standing here when there is a good drop of ale waiting for me.’ He turned to the door and with no manners for the ladies he headed to the dray.

‘Oh, Maggie, you look beautiful gal, take no notice of his mean tongue. God will hear his spiteful tongue and reward him,’ Lizzie reassured her. ‘You are stood before me looking more like a lady than many with money. You have more than a posh frock; you have grace and are a rare beauty. Jacob Sawbury is a lucky man and a fool ‘cause he cannot see your beauty inside and out.’

‘Lizzie tonight is for you and me not for him. It bothers me not what he sees in me and I am not going to let him spoil our night. Come along. Let us go and have fun. I feel love is waiting for you tonight, Lizzie. As Jacob rightly said, you paint a fine picture. We chose well, the colours are yours and you do them justice.’

I hope Stephen appreciates my efforts. Maggie Sawbury you are not to be tempted. Silence your thoughts.

Lanterns hung off the dray and Mason helped the ladies onto it, complimenting them as he did so. Jacob sat at the front moaning about time wasting. No one listened to him; they were too excited to allow him to spoil the night. All the way to the great hall the conversation was merry. When they pulled into the long driveway exclamations were expressed of how pretty the great house looked. Lamps lit the long driveway to the front of the enormous, cream stone building. And large wick lamps had been placed in the gardens and flickered shadows across the brickwork. The house sat in the middle of a copse, and looked magical surrounded by shimmering trees. A large front entrance was covered with a columned porch. Maggie counted three levels, each with nine windows the length of the building. Cream stone carvings decorated the corners of the building, and privet hedges were cut to perfection. Green lawns surrounded the gravelled driveway which was awash with carts, carriages and drays of every shape and size. A footman greeted them and assisted the ladies down, he then instructed Mason to hand over their transport to a groom waiting at the end of the pathway.

Lizzie nudged Maggie as they watched Jacob smooth back his hair. Both suppressed a giggle, although Lizzie did manage a small snort before Maggie shot her a warning glance.

‘Are you not going to escort me inside, Jacob?’Maggie asked her husband. She knew he would not make a scene on arrival, and thought after the slight he made about her looks, she would make him suffer.

‘Very well, but as soon as we are inside, you will sit and behave. I will not have you shaming me in front of the squire and his family. Do you hear me?’He crooked his arm and Maggie placed her hand on his elbow. Lizzie and Mason followed behind, and the rest of the staff behind them.

In the centre of the grand hallway was a stairway the size of their home. Jacob pointed out a few portraits and commented on family likeness. Maggie could see Stephen in every male that lined the walls.

They were ushered into a large brightly lit ballroom. Oil lamps cast shadows and flickered when people walked by them. A fairytale come true, were the words Lizzie muttered behind them. Maggie turned to her and smiled. When she turned back they were ready to be presented to the squire and his family.

‘Mr and Mrs Sawbury and staff of Windtop.’ Another footman introduced them. The squire spoke through his thick, black beard. Maggie could see Stephen’s eyes smiling back at her.

‘Good evening, Sawbury. I hope you and yours enjoys the festivities. A good year is wished for Windtop.’

‘Thank you, sir. My wife is most excited by this evening’s events. Most generous of you. Mrs. Avenell, may I say how splendid you look tonight. You brighten up the hall.’ Maggie watched as Jacob moved his way into the room nodding and bobbing his head as he greeted fellow workers, his attempt at being the wealthy farmer made her want to laugh out loud. He had put on airs and graces which were so farcical. She noted the squire had a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. She smiled at him and Stephen’s mother, a short, stout woman and Maggie could see where he got his smile. His sister was a plain woman with a tight smile, and Maggie wondered who she took after, she did not carry any traits of her parents.