Sword to the Heart (Bantam Series No. 13) (4 page)

Lady Margaret gave a little sigh.

“I am sure he will, darling,” she said, but she sounded almost as if she convinced herself rather than her daughter.

Because she was so anxious to shine in Lord Colwall’s eyes Natalia persuaded her father to take not only the
Morning Post
but also
The Times
.

“I shall never have time to read two newspapers, Natalia,” the Reverend Adolphus protested.

“But I have!” Natalia answered. “I must be up to date, Papa, with what is happening in the world outside.”

She gave a little sigh.

“Pooley Bridge is so isolated that we might be living on an island in the Atlantic.”

“Now, Natalia, that is not fair,” her father protested. “You and your mother visit Penrith at least once a month and there are some very agreeable people in the neighbourhood, including my own family.”

“Yes, I know, Papa, and I am not complaining,” Natalia answered, “but I wish that Lord Colwall had thought it part of my education that I should go to London or perhaps even to Europe!”

She paused and said:

“Can you imagine, Papa, what it would be like to see Rome, or Athens?”

“I am sure your husband will take you to both these places when you are married,” the Vicar answered. “It would be disappointing for him if you had seen them already with someone else.”

A little shadow cleared from Natalia’s face.

“Yes, of course, that is what His Lordship intends,” she said. “How clever of you, Papa, to realise it. And naturally I would much rather go with him than with anyone else in the world.

“But you must tell me the whole history of the Colosseum, the Forum, and Acropolis and the Parthenon, in case however clever His Lordship may be, he does not know as much as you.”

“I am sure he will know a great deal more,” the Reverend Adolphus declared modestly.

At the same time he dropped a light kiss on his daughter’s hair. “But however interesting the Ancient World may be,” Natalia went on, “and you know how much their histories delight you and me, Papa, I must also be knowledgeable on current affairs.”

There was a little frown between her eyes as she said:

“There are more letters in
The Times
today about the cruelty of very young children being employed in the mines. I think you should read them, Papa.”

“I will, indeed,” the Reverend Adolphus replied. “I suppose they have not published my letter about the iniquity of ‘Strappers’ being used to whip into wakefulness the children who labour on the looms.”

“It has not appeared yet,” Natalia answered, “but there is a letter from Lord Lauderdale insisting that climbing boys are essential if chimneys are to be cleaned, and that people who say it is cruel to use children of five or six years old are talking rubbish!”

The Reverend Adolphus gave a snort of sheer fury.

‘Lord Lauderdale should be thrust up a chimney himself!” he declared. “I only wish I could meet His Lordship and tell him what I think of him.”

He spoke so violently that Natalia gave a little laugh.

“Oh, Papa, I love you in your militant mood,” she exclaimed. ‘If you only could be in the House of Lords I really believe that you would rout Lord Lauderdale!”

As she spoke she remembered that Lord Colwall was a member of the Upper House.

She wondered why she had never seen his name amongst those who spoke on the subjects which interested her and her father, and on which they both felt so intensely.

Journeying now in the Dritchka chariot on the last day of their journey as they passed through the fruitful vale of Evesham, Natalia said almost triumphantly:

“There has been no talk in the newspapers of agricultural trouble in Herefordshire.”

“No, I have noticed that,” her father replied. “It started early last month in Kent and then spread into Sussex and Hampshire.”

“There has been a great deal about the Dorchester labourers in
The Times
,
” Natalia said. “The men are receiving only 7 shillings per week, but they used no violence beyond breaking up a number of threshing machines.”

“I read that,” her father said. “They behaved with restraint and actually said: ‘We do not intend to hurt the farmer but we are determined that we shall have more wages’.”

“Nevertheless, two of the men were sentenced to death,” Natalia said in a low voice.

“It is disgraceful,” the Vicar said angrily, “when a man cannot speak up for himself without being tried for his life or transported!” He pursed his lips before he continued:

“I read the case of one man called Legge who was transported because he was declared by the Prosecutor to be ‘saucy and impudent’ and to have talked ‘rough and bobbish’.”

“I read that too,” Natalia said. “Yet his character, which included a testimonial from a clergyman, was said to be exemplary.”

“How could they do anything so unjust?” the Reverend Adolphus asked. “Legge had five children whom he supported without Parish help on 7 shillings per week. His cottage was given to him, but no fuel.”

“I am sure Lord Colwall would never tolerate such cruelty on his estate!” Natalia exclaimed.

“No, of course not,” her father agreed quickly. “But I have noticed that there has been trouble in Gloucester which is not far from Colwall.”

“But there had never been one word either in
The Times
or the
Morning Post
about Herefordshire,” Natalia said quickly. “I am sure Lord Colwall cannot have a threshing machine.”

“Let us hope not!” the Reverend Adolphus said in heartfelt tones. “A landowner near Canterbury wrote that in his parish, where no machines had been introduced, there were twenty-three barns. He calculated that in three barns fifteen men would find good, steady employment threshing corn by hand until May.”

“And they make extra money!” Natalia exclaimed.

“A man threshing by hand over the winter can earn from 15 to 20 shillings per week,” the Vicar replied.

“It is easy for us to imagine,” Natalia said quietly, “what the sight of one of those hated machines can mean to men like that! Are you surprised they destroy what to them is a monster of injustice?”

“I do not think,” her father said firmly, “that the labourers over the whole country are getting either a fair deal or a fair hearing.” He added positively:

“You must speak to His Lordship when you are married, Natalia, and see that on the Colwall estate at least there is justice and a living wage for those who work there.”

“I am sure His Lordship is most generous,” Natalia said softly, thinking of how kind her future husband had been to her.

She could feel the softness of the ermine inside her cloak which had kept her warm against the bitter winds and sleet they had encountered soon after they started on their journey South.

She remembered the gowns of silks and satins that had been sent to the Vicarage at the same time as the cloak.

There had also been nightgowns like gossamer, petticoats and chemises so fine they could pass through a wedding ring.

She then realised her trousseau must have cost an almost astronomical sum of money, and she thought that her mother’s quite obvious lack of enthusiasm was due to her feeling that Lord Colwall had been extravagant.

Lady Margaret’s reaction was in fact because she considered the gifts had been sent in a somewhat arbitrary manner, but Natalia was overcome by such kindness.

The way they travelled, the flowers that had awaited her at each stopping place, the money that had been expended on her over the years, and above all Crusader could only, Natalia thought, have been provided by a man who was unbelievably generous, in thought as well as in deed.

They stayed the last night of their journey at a black and white Inn in Tewkesbury.

Although she was a little tired after so many miles on the road, Natalia had accompanied her father to the Norman Abbey, which the Reverend Adolphus said he had always longed to visit.

The great rounded arches, the stained-glass windows, and the immensely high Chancel had made Natalia feel that she offered her heart up to Heaven in gratitude for all that was happening and all that lay ahead of her.

As she knelt beside her father, she had told herself she could never thank God enough for the happiness she had known as a child and the happiness that would be hers in her married life.

“Thank You, God, thank You,” she whispered, and thought even as she prayed that a voice within herself told her that she was really blessed.

“Tomorrow I shall see him,” she said later as she laid her head on the pillow.

She was sure she would be unable to sleep but nevertheless she slept peacefully until the Lady’s Maid who had travelled with them came to call her.“ ’Tis eight o’clock Miss, and the Reverend Gentleman has already gone down to breakfast.”

For a moment, Natalia could not remember where she was, then she gave a little cry of excitement.

“We shall reach the Castle today, Ellen!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, Miss, and very impressed you’ll be with it. They say there’s not a Castle in the whole length and breadth of the country to equal ours.”

Natalia smiled at her. She had already learnt that Ellen had been at the Castle since she was very young and had in fact been born and bred in Herefordshire.

“I shall see His Lordship,” she whispered almost to herself.

“Yes, Miss, and I expect you will find a very grand wedding awaiting for you. When His Lordship organises anything, he always expects perfection.”

“That is what my marriage will be,” Natalia murmured.

She thought Ellen looked at her in rather a strange manner, then the Maid said:

“I hopes you’ll bring His Lordship happiness, Miss. From all I hears he was hard done by in the past, and it’s only right he should be happy the second time.”

Natalia did not reply.

The thought of Lord Colwall’s first marriage was something she had pushed to the back of her mind and which she had not discussed with anyone, not even her mother.

“Cousin Ranulf has been married before,” Lady Margaret had said when she had told Natalia the reason for her intensive education.

“He was married!” Natalia ejaculated.

“For a very short time,” Lady Margaret said.

“What happened to his wife?”

“There was an accident and—she died.” Lady Margaret answered hesitantly.

Natalia had been curious, and yet at the same time something had prevented her from asking questions.

She had not wanted to know. She had not wanted to think that her Knight, the man who was bliss, had ever belonged to another woman.

It had seemed to her as if for a moment some of the light that illuminated the room when her mother had told her of Lord Colwall’s intentions, had been dimmed.

Then she told herself she was being absurd! It had happened a long time ago, he had been very young, and by now he would have forgotten his sorrow.

“Yet would one ever forget someone to whom one had been married?” an inner voice questioned.

Natalia tried to think of herself in the same circumstances and failed.

‘Perhaps,’ she told herself, ‘It is different for a man
.
’

“There were no children of the marriage,” Lady Margaret was saying, “and I am praying, dearest, that you will have a son, perhaps more than one, and daughters, too, who will enjoy the Castle as much as I did as a child.”

She said reminiscently:

“It is a wonderful place for Hide and Seek with its twisting stairways, turrets and towers! It has all the things which appeal to a child’s imagination.”

Natalia had thought of her mother’s words that night when she had gone to bed.

Yes, she would love to have children. They would play in the Castle, and she would tell them the stories that her father had told to her. Of one thing she was quite certain—she would have more than one!

It had been lonely having no brother or sister to share her games, or, more important, to whom she could confide her dreams of the wondrous characters who in her imagination peopled the woods and the mountains.

“I long to see the Castle,” she said aloud to Ellen. “It is I am sure a very fitting home for His Lordship.”

She said no more but allowed Ellen to dress her hair in what was a more elaborate style than usual.

A travelling gown of dark blue cashmere trimmed with frills of taffeta and small velvet bows seemed to Natalia after her plain cotton dresses to be the zenith of elegance.

She had no idea until she wore expensive gowns what a tiny waist she had, that her skin was so white or her hair the colour of Spring sunshine.

“How do I look, Ellen?” she asked staring at her reflection in the small mirror.

“Very lovely, Miss,” Ellen replied in almost awestruck tones. “You will make a beautiful bride.”

That is what Natalia wanted to hear, that she would look beautiful, really beautiful for the man whom she dreamed about, and who had become already an indivisible part of her life.