Replenish the Earth (30 page)

Thad nodded, told him he was a good lad, and sent him back with an encouragement to use his ears, but take no risks.

Sewell’s family suffered his scorn and his iron hand as much as the villagers who worked for him.

‘Can you not be kinder to the villagers?’ his wife begged one day, having nerved herself up to make some gesture when he’d thrown a family out of its home.

‘Fool of a woman. What do you know about anything? You haven’t even the wit to do what you’re best suited for to help me, so, since thinking is clearly beyond you, keep your ideas to yourself. I treat these clods as they deserve. This is
my
village and its folk shall run meekly at my heel, as suits their station in life – or move elsewhere.

Her trembling lips and tear-filled eyes suddenly annoyed him so much that he shoved her violently away from him, sending her tumbling to the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut. And he laughed as he watched her scramble to her feet and back away from him, her eyes wide with terror.

Sewell’s daughter was also warned to mind her manners and her tongue. She had become too pert in her ways. No wonder he was having trouble finding her a suitable husband.

‘I hope you’ll not find me an old one, then,’ she declared, ‘for I’ll not marry someone who revolts me.’ Her best friend had just been forced into this and she shuddered to think what Frances whispered about the fumblings of an elderly husband.

He leaned across and pinched her ear hard, forcing her to stand on tiptoe. ‘An I give you to a boss-eyed mule, miss, you’ll marry him.’ He threw her to the floor as well.

Dorothy crept up to her mother’s room to nurse her bruises. ‘What’s got into Father lately?’ she whispered. ‘Has he run mad?’

‘I think so,’ Rosemary Sewell whispered back, one eye on the door. ‘But don’t speak so loudly. The servants tell him all they hear. And perhaps he’ll find you a handsome young man - though kindness is more important than good looks, as I know to my cost.’

‘Good looks?’

‘Aye. Your father was handsome enough when I first met him. He quite won me over, but I have lived to rue the day I met him.’ She touched her daughter’s hair timidly, for they hadn’t been close before. ‘The marriage has given me you and your brother, at least. That’s my only consolation or happiness in life.’

Dorothy gave her a sudden convulsive hug.

Edward also sought his mother’s company and comfort. He, who loathed the country, had been set to learning how to run an estate, ready for the time when he should inherit. The satins and silks he delighted in were forbidden and sombre, hard-wearing country clothes commanded for him from the tailor in Sawbury. Day after day, throughout that bitter winter, he was sent out to accompany the harsh-tempered bailiff whose views on dealing with those who worked for him exactly coincided with his master’s.

Edward was there to learn the duties, but he also learned to hate his tutor almost as much as his father, and to pity those who worked at Marsh Bottom. His skin became chapped, he developed a continuous sniffle and the miseries of his daily existence drove even his weak spirit near to rebellion - but not quite near enough to stand against the juggernaut will of his father.

Sewell embarked upon the further embellishment of his estate. It became his main obsession, that and how to get rid of the Bedhams. Trees were felled, vistas opened up, exotic shrubs ordered from London. And two families, whose cottages were an unsightly lump on the newly-cleared horizon, were evicted with only a day’s notice.

Will, who could still remember the pain of losing his own home, allowed the families to stay in one of his barns until they could find something more permanent. He ignored Sewell’s gibes after church about being too soft for his own good, though it took all his strength of will to walk past the arrogant figure, with its jutting belly, for Sewell had put on a lot of unhealthy flesh in the past year. But Will kept his mouth closed, because the time was drawing near for action.

* * * *

One day at the beginning of April, Ted Haplin strolled into the village and had a quiet word with Thad Honeyfield. As a result, Thad slipped up the icy lane to the Manor after dark, when all sensible folk were in their beds, cursing the darkness and the mud that sent him measuring his length once or twice.

Will was waiting for him in the library, with Ted and Joe in attendance. That night he had had sharp words with Sarah for the first time since the shooting because he refused to tell her exactly what he was planning. Better she be angry with him than dead.

He let Thad in through the old estate office door at the back of the house. ‘Come and warm  yourself by the fire, lad. No one saw you?’

‘No, Squire.’

‘Make sure they don’t see you going back, either!’ He grinned. ‘And try not to play in the mud.’

Thad grinned back and brushed at the muddy stains on his clothing, but it was a futile effort.

‘I want nothing to go wrong with this,’ Will said, the smile fading and grim determination taking its place. ‘Well, sit down, man! We can’t discuss this with you standing up like that.’

Thad sat down gingerly in one of the chairs, which looked to him as if it would scarce bear a man’s weight. In a similar chair, Ted Haplin was sprawling at ease, a glass of the late Squire’s port in his hand.  

Will told Thad to help himself to cider or port and, then got down to business. ‘Are you still willing to help me put paid to Sewell once and for all?’

‘Aye.’ Ted gathered moisture in his mouth to spit out his scorn of their enemy, then looked down at the clean polished floor and thought better of it. ‘He’s like a mad bull of late, that one is. Needs penning up and a ring putting through his nose.’ 

‘Lord Tarnly is the only one who can pen him up, though, so we have two choices. Either we get proof that Sewell has been behind all the troubles and hand him over to the law - or we deal with him ourselves.’

‘‘Tis easy enough for accidents to happen,’ said Ted mildly. ‘Dreadful easy, it is, for a man to get hisself shot in them woods - even if Sewell takes them two bullies with him every time he goes out.
They
can’t see a bullet coming. No one can.’

‘Well, you’d better make sure no such accident happens,’ ordered Will, ‘because I intend to stick within the law - more or less, anyway.’

They smiled at that.

‘And if your way doesn’t work?’ Ted asked.

‘We’ll have to think again. I’m not giving up, that’s for sure.’ Will’s sole concession  to Sarah had been a promise to do nothing against the law, if he could help it.

Ted shot a wolfish look at Thad, but the blacksmith’s eyes were fixed on the Squire.

‘Tell us what needs doin’,’ he said simply, anger simmering in his chest, as it always did when he thought of the fire that had damaged his smithy. ‘There’s me an’ our Michael just waitin’ for a chance to sauce that one’s goose for him, an’ Nate’s ready to carry back to his master any gossip we tell him to, because he’s afeared of what his neighbours will do to him if he doesn’t help us.’

He thought about that for a few seconds and added in all fairness, ‘And because what Sewell does to folk sticks in his gullet. Nate’s terrible feared of what Sewell will do to him if he finds out he’s thrown in his lot with us, but his neighbours live closer than Sewell does, an’ his wife’s a cousin of my wife.’

‘Ah, see, even a fool like Nate can’t stomach it,’ agreed Joe.

Ted nodded. ‘He’s not a bad fellow, just puny and nervous of trouble.’

Will cleared his throat to regain their attention. ‘It seems to me we need to do two things. Firstly, we need to catch Sewell’s men in some unlawful act, and secondly, we must connect what they’re doing with him.’

‘‘Tisn’t Hugh and Izzy as do things lately, though,’ objected Ted. ‘Thass why we couldn’t set them other attacks straight to Sewell’s door. Them two bully-boys is allus somewhere else when things happen, some place where folk can see ’em and swear they couldn’t ha’ done it. They fetch others in from Poole and beyond to do their mischief. They must be a lot of dangy scoundrels up that way.’

‘When we catch the hirelings, we’ll
make
them tell us who’s paying them,’ declared Will.

‘Ah, we might persuade ’em to do that, but Sewell will still deny it afterwards, won’t he? He’ll say as we forced ’em to bear false witness. An’ his lordship won’t hang him just on our say-so. They don’t hang the gentry all that easy, even when they deserve it. It’s the poor folks as gets hanged. Besides, Sewell’s got that lawyer in Sawbury eatin’ out of his hand, tame as a pigeon in a loft. That fellow has all sorts of tricks up his sleeve to trap honest folk.’

‘Suppose - just suppose Sewell heard that some of you had captured the men hired to make mischief and were making them speak, but that you hadn’t yet sent for Lord Tarnly,’ said Will, thinking aloud. ‘Suppose he thought he could rescue them and save himself a deal of trouble.’

Ted scratched his head, Joe frowned and Thad looked deep into the flames, mouth pursed in thought. There was silence for a while. Will sat and waited for them to think things through. He wanted no mistakes.

‘Might turn the trick,’ allowed Ted at last, smacking his lips over the dregs of the port. ‘Yes, well, just a smidgen more, Squire. It d’warm you nicely on a cold night, port wine do.’

‘We’d need a bit of help to do it,’ warned Thad. ‘There’d hev to be enough of us to make sure none of ’em escaped.’ He waved aside the port bottle and reached for the jug of cider.

‘That’s your job, Thad. You know who in the village can be trusted to keep his mouth shut and who can’t. Will you find me some men?’

‘Ah. Dare say I can. I’ll ask around.’

‘Good. Then this is what we’ll do . ’

* * * *

In April, it became known that Will had purchased some new cows, and was to drive them home himself, with Robin Cox’s help. He would use the main roads and keep a sharp eye out for attackers, he told those who worried about his safety. 

His foolhardiness in risking his life was loudly debated in The Golden Fleece, and though the men always stopped their discussions when anyone connected with Sewell came in. Hugh nonetheless managed to glean from Nate all the information his master needed.

Sewell’s smile became so smug and gloating that his wife took to her bed again, praying and weeping. Dorothy stayed upstairs, too, declaring it to be her duty to nurse her mama.

Poor Edward couldn’t escape his father. As Sewell’s temper became more unpredictable, his grown son even suffered the occasional thump or kick, for Sewell had decided he’d brought Edward up too soft and was determined to harden him.

Hugh and Izzy got their share of abuse, too, but unlike Edward, they thought nothing of a blow here and there.

The next Sunday, after church, Sewell made a point of stopping Will in the porch and warning him not to risk his life fetching the cows.

‘I reckon I’ll be safe enough now,’ Will said slowly, at his most phlegmatic. ‘His lordship reckons it was a band of thieves wintering in the district who attacked me last time. Nothing’s happened for three months or more, so I reckon they’ll have moved on by now. Besides, I’ll not forget to take my pistol this time.’

‘Better still, send one of your servants to fetch the cows.’

‘Nay, I can’t do that. Paid a precious lot for those beasts, I have, and I’ll not trust ’em to anyone else.’ He always spoke more broadly to Sewell than he did to others, because he could see that it irritated him.

Sarah came up to join him.

‘Your servant, Mistress Bedham,’ Sewell flourished a mocking bow.

Keeping her hands in her muff, she stared through him as if he were invisible, though she nodded briefly to his wife and daughter, hovering in the background. Of the son there was no sign that day.

As they drove home, Sarah said fiercely to Will, ‘I know you’re planning something to do with this trip!’

‘Nothing you wouldn’t approve of, my lass.’

‘Tell me!’

‘No. Best you know nothing. This is men’s work.’

And that was all she could get from him. He knew his Sarah now and didn’t want her joining in, for there would inevitably be some risk involved.

* * * *

The weather was kind to the plotters. It rained on the day they went to bring the cows home from market, a steady downpour that made everyone who attended muffle themselves in their cloaks, pull their hats down over their noses and hurry back to their homes as soon as they could.

Robin Cox plodded stolidly out of town behind the new cows, ignoring the rain, and Will followed him in the cart, so muffled against the sleeting rain that you wouldn’t have recognised him. The horse was used to the route and he’d fastened the reins to the rim of the cart, the better to shelter himself from the weather. Behind him, in the back of the cart, lay a pile of bundles covered in sacking.

To the four men lying in wait in the woods, it was all ridiculously easy. They let Robin pass with the cows, then fired at the figure driving the cart. And as they were all professional thieves or highwaymen and had kept their powder dry, their guns didn’t misfire. They had the satisfaction of seeing two of their bullets strike home, then heard the figure grunt as it toppled slowly sideways on the seat.

The only thing that didn’t go as expected was the way Robin Cox behaved. Instead of running to his master’s help and setting himself up nicely as a second target, he fled into the woods.

‘Easy as pickin’ off crows,’ said one of the killers. ‘Don’t know why they were so worried about this fellow.’

‘Better check that Pursley’s dead, though.’

‘And what about the other one? Shouldn’t we go after him?’

‘No, he’ll be half way home by now. It’s not him as we’re being paid to kill and he’ll never recognise us.’

One rode across to hold the horse’s head, sitting easily on his own mount; another stayed by the side of the road; and the other two dismounted and clambered on to the cart to lean over the still figure lying hunched across the driver’s bench. As one of them stretched out a hand to roll the body over, the sacking behind the seat was tossed aside and Will stood up, holding a cocked pistol in each hand, pointed at them. The savage expression on his face made them freeze in shock, and before either of them could make a move, there was a warning shout from the man at the horse’s head.