The Painter's Apprentice (4 page)

Beth was in the studio working up a sweat as she vigorously pounded some lumps of ochre pigment into a powder. She didn’t
hear the door open and started when she saw Noah.

He smiled at her, his brown eyes sparkling. She caught her breath, suddenly conscious of her stained old work skirt. Lifting
her fingers to her lips, she glanced at Johannes who was absorbed in sketching a still life set up on the table. She untied
her apron, slipping quietly from the room.

‘I came to bring you these,’ said Noah, handing her a box of candied quinces, ‘by way of an apology. It was not my intention
to cause you distress on my last visit.’

Reluctantly Beth took the peace offering from him. ‘Unfortunately, sweetmeats, however delicious, do not compensate for the
loss of my brother.’

The hopeful smile on Noah’s face disappeared.

‘And, as I pointed out at the time, the invitation you delivered was not without self-interest.’

‘Perhaps not. But have
you
the right to decide what is fitting for Kit? If you persuade him to stay for your own selfish reasons, you may be doing him
a great disservice.’

‘How dare you!’

‘I dare because it is true. Perhaps you should think about that, Beth?’

Then, a low keening sound made them turn to look along the gallery. The noise came from behind half-closed window drapes and
Beth hurried towards them. She pulled aside the curtain and exposed a young woman curled up on the window seat with her head
in her hands and her pale hair loose around her shoulders. ‘Joan, what is it?’

Joan lifted her swollen face, drowned in tears. ‘They took my baby! Did you know they took my baby?’

‘Who would do such a terrible thing?’ asked Noah.

Beth shook her head at him slightly. ‘It won’t make you feel any better to sit here weeping, Joan.’

Joan shook her head. ‘It
is
a terrible thing,’ she said, turning to Noah. ‘They took my baby and put another child in his place. An evil vicious creature
that screams and screams all night and all day.’ She leaned forward and whispered, ‘The Devil’s child.’

Beth opened Noah’s box of candied fruit and offered it to Joan. ‘Would you like one of these?’

Slowly Joan took one of the sweetmeats. She touched it to the tip of her tongue and her eyes opened wide. ‘Sweet,’ she said.

‘Peg is making apple pies in the kitchen,’ said Beth.

‘With sugar on the top?’

‘Peg’s apple pies always have sugar on the top.’ Beth held out her hand.

Joan uncurled herself from the window seat. ‘And will you ask the doctor to speak to my husband again and ask him where he
hid our baby?’

‘I will.’

‘A little piece of apple pie will make me strong again, won’t it?’

‘Peg’s apple pies are well-known for their strengthening properties.’

They trooped downstairs and before long Peg had set Joan to peeling apples at the kitchen table.

‘I’ll see you at suppertime, Joan,’ said Beth.

‘Poor Joan has a very sweet tooth,’ she said to Noah as they left the kitchen, ‘and I use it shamelessly to guide her into
a happier disposition.’

‘It is a great kindness to her. She would not be so well used in another place of detainment.’

‘That was always Father’s ambition: to make Merryfields a safe haven for the troubled.’ She stopped by the window. ‘It’s such
a lovely sunny day.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t want hard words between us.’

‘And I haven’t come halfway around the world for us to quarrel.’

‘Shall we take a turn in the garden?’

Noah reached for her hand. ‘Truce?’

They wrapped themselves in cloaks from the boot room and went outside. In spite of the November sunshine the cold wind made
Beth’s eyes water and Noah’s nose turn pink. Woodsmoke drifted on the air.

‘What did happen to Joan’s baby?’ asked Noah as they ambled along the neatly raked gravel paths. Rooks circled above the leafless
elms, cawing raucously all the while.

‘Nothing. Sometimes women have strange fits and ideas after they have a baby. In Joan’s case she woke up screaming two days
after she gave birth and accused her husband and his mother of stealing her baby and putting another in its place. They were
quite unable to persuade her that she was mistaken. The child is nearly a year old now.’

‘Will she ever recover?’

‘I don’t know. In these cases it usually takes some time. Sadly, it’s not uncommon for a new mother’s spirits to sink so low.’

‘But you treat her with compassion.’

‘What else can we do? Sometimes we find the lengthening summer days can be helpful in this type of melancholy. And a diet
rich in ginger and other warming spices can rebalance the humours.’

Noah paused and turned back to look at Merryfields, the bricks blazing russet in the sunshine. Tall chimneys twisted up towards
the sky and the diamond-paned windows reflected back the orange light of the sun.

‘It would make a wonderful painting, wouldn’t it?’ said Beth. ‘Perhaps one day I shall attempt it.’

Noah took a small sketchbook from inside his coat and began to draw. ‘I shall build houses at least as beautiful as this one,’
he said, his eyes glowing with fervour.

Beth raised her eyebrows at his lack of modesty. ‘Part of the charm of Merryfields is the mellowness that has grown with the
passing of time. Can a new house ever compare with that?’

‘I believe so. Virginia is growing fast and there is the opportunity to shape its future with handsome buildings, which will
last for generations. I want to take my grandchildren by the hand and show them the mark I will leave behind on the world.
What could be a better epitaph?’

‘Mine will be my paintings.’ Beth peered over Noah’s shoulder to look at his deft sketch of the twisted chimneys. She sighed.
‘I can’t begin to imagine why anyone would want to leave Merryfields but Kit feels differently.’

Noah turned abruptly towards her. ‘So he might come to Virginia, after all?’

Beth shook her head. ‘We don’t have the funds for the passage. But Kit will leave Merryfields and find work elsewhere. That
letter you brought has been the catalyst for his decision to leave us. And now Father has retreated to his study and Mama
weeps silently all day.’

Noah closed his sketchbook with a snap. ‘I am truly sorry to hear
that but it is most unjust of you to blame me. And you should know that my father has arranged for funds to be available to
Kit for his passage to Virginia, should he decide that is what he wants to do.’

Beth folded her arms across her chest, steadying herself as if an abyss had opened at her feet. She had almost become used
to the idea of Kit making his own way in the world somewhere other than Merryfields but now there was a real and frightening
possibility of him going to Virginia after all.

‘Don’t look so heartbroken, Beth.’ Noah touched her gently on the shoulder. ‘My father is a wealthy man and he would treat
Kit as if he were his own son.’

‘Virginia is so very far away!’ she said, pulling her cloak more tightly around her and shivering with a chill that didn’t
come entirely from the biting wind, ‘but I do want him to be happy.’

After Noah had gone to find Kit, Beth returned to the solace of the studio. Johannes glanced up at her from his easel and
smiled before concentrating upon his work once more.

Beth sighed. Each time she saw Noah he brought disquiet into her life. Wherever would it end? In an attempt to soothe her
ruffled thoughts, she busied herself with routine tasks. Carefully, she squeezed a little verdigris paint out of the pig’s
bladder on to Johannes’s palette, between the massicot yellow and the malachite green. The cheerful clarity of the colours
made her think of daffodils growing in lush new grass in the spring. She glanced out of the window. Autumn was nearly over
and the coming long, dark winter must be endured before the spring bulbs pushed up through the earth again. Sighing, she pressed
an air bubble out of the pig’s bladder and twisted a piece of thread around it to keep it airtight.

Downstairs, Orpheus began to bark and then there were footsteps crunching across the gravel and the sound of the door knocker.

Johannes dropped his paintbrush on the table. ‘Ach! So much noise to disturb us!’

‘I’ll go and see what’s happening.’ Beth slipped out of the room and trotted downstairs to the hall.

Susannah had arrived before her, untying her apron while she opened the front door.

Beth restrained Orpheus by his collar.

Two young men, both blond, blue-eyed and almost impossible to tell apart, stood in the doorway, smiling widely.

‘Josh! Sam!’ Beth found herself swung off her feet and soundly kissed on both cheeks. ‘It’s months since you came to see us.
Have you come to stay?’

‘Just for tonight,’ said Sam.

‘And we’ve brought Mother.’ Josh’s eyes were alight with mischief.

‘Arabella is here?’ asked Susannah, hurriedly straightening her cap.

‘Indeed I am,’ said a voice from the doorway. ‘And I’ll thank you to send a servant down to my boat at once to fetch my trunk
before one of your lunatics runs off with it.’

Beth caught sight of the quickly suppressed horror on her mother’s face and her own heart sank as her step-grandmother, Lady
Arabella, swept into the hallway. Expensively and fashionably dressed, she was only a year or two older than Susannah.

Unsmiling, Lady Arabella undid the buttons of her fur-trimmed travelling cape and held it out, waiting, until Susannah took
it from her. Smoothing down the heavy silk of her skirts, she shivered theatrically. ‘No servants to open the door to me?
And am I to be offered refreshments or must I continue to stand in this draughty hall? I am surprised to see that you still
haven’t lit the fire, Susannah, even though the afternoon is advancing.’

Susannah rallied and pinned a smile of welcome on her face. ‘What a surprise to see you, Arabella!’

There was no answering smile in Lady Arabella’s ice blue eyes. ‘Against my better judgement, the twins persuaded me to break
the journey here. Beth, is that paint on your hands?’

Beth let go of Orpheus’s collar and reluctantly came forward to make her curtsy. ‘Yes, Lady Arabella.’ She never had been
able to call her ‘Grandmother’. ‘I was in the studio when you arrived.’

Lady Arabella’s delicate little nose twitched. ‘You smell unpleasantly of turpentine. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too much to ask
for you to wash before you join us?’

Orpheus sniffed at the lace on the hem of Lady Arabella’s skirt and she kicked him away with the toe of her fine calfskin
shoe.

‘Shall we go into the little parlour?’ said Susannah. ‘I can light the fire in a trice.’

‘Joshua, Samuel, you shall escort me.’ Lady Arabella, one of her twin sons on each arm, set off along the corridor.

Samuel turned back to wink at Beth over his shoulder.

Susannah hung back. ‘Beth, will you ask Peg to bring refreshments? And tell Sara to air the bed in the best bedroom.’ She
raised her eyes heavenwards. ‘A visitation from her ladyship is the last thing we need.’

Beth hurried to the kitchen where she found Kit and Noah hunched over the table in earnest discussion while they ate slabs
of bread and cheese.

Jennet stood at the sink, scrubbing the pans with coarse sand. Peg and Sara were peeling turnips.

‘The twins are here,’ Beth announced. ‘And Lady Arabella is with them.’

Jennet dropped the pan with a clatter and Peg looked up with an expression of dismay in her grey eyes. ‘Oh Lord!’ she said.

‘Sara, Mama said can you air the best bedroom? Sam and Josh will have the blue room, as usual. And Peg, will you take refreshments
to the little parlour?’

‘Oh Lord!’ said Peg again. ‘Lady Arabella would have to come on
the day I can only offer stale cake.’ She sniffed. ‘Still, I’ve better things to do than wait on a papist’s whims and fancies.’

‘Hush, Peg!’

‘When her ladyship is being her most difficult,’ said Jennet, ‘I always remind myself she only comes from Shoreditch, like
me, and I suppose she isn’t enough of a papist to do any real harm.’

‘Noah, will you let me introduce you to Josh and Sam?’ said Beth.

Noah frowned. ‘Father and Aunt Susannah’s younger brothers?’

Beth smiled. ‘It’s strange, isn’t it? They are only a little older than me so I always think of them as cousins rather than
uncles since they spent so much time at Merryfields when they were growing up. It suited Lady Arabella to have them off her
hands.’

‘And Lady Arabella must be the disagreeable woman that Grandfather Cornelius married?’

‘She’s so full of airs and graces. The only one of us who admires her is Cecily, rather more for the extravagances of her
wardrobe than for her disposition, I’m sorry to say.’

‘She’s an appalling woman and no grandmother of mine,’ said Kit with feeling. ‘Especially since she married Sir George Vernon
a couple of years ago. He’s secretary to James Cecil, Earl of Salisbury, Gentleman of the Bedchamber to King James and a known
papist. Would you
believe
that Lady Arabella converted to Catholicism to hook him in?’