White Water (31 page)

‘Not be a Kendal? By Christ! I shall decide that!’ Martin’s face worked furiously. ‘Who else shall decide the fate of my child? He
will
be a Kendal — if I decide so.’ He broke off and she could see his thoughts racing. ‘I
shall
wed you!’

‘No! ’Tis impossible. You know it and so do I.’

His mood changed and he was bewildered. Felicity pitied him.

‘If we don’t wed,’ he said slowly, ‘then I could adopt him when I do. He shall be legitimized.’

‘No!’ she cried, suddenly passionate.
I
shall bring him up.
I
am his mother.’

‘But he is a Kendal!’

‘No, not without marriage. He is a Carr. You will have other sons.
They
will be Kendals. This one,’ she put a hand protectively to the slight swelling that was the child, ‘this one will be a Kendal only in my eyes.’

Martin shook his head wonderingly. ‘And all this time you knew and you didn’t share it with me.’

‘I was afeared. I thought you would want me to rid myself of it.’

‘Aye, that would have been — ’ He checked himself hastily. ‘So Hugo knows. When was he, told? Before me?’

‘Aye, but ’twas Maria that told him in a letter.’

‘Matt! I can see it now.’ He shook his head again. ‘I thought it odd that he should leave so soon, and looking so ill-tempered.’

‘Poor Matt.’

‘Matt is not to be pitied!’ he shouted, shaking her roughly. ‘’Tis I who deserve your pity — Oh, forgive me! I forgot!’ He released her guiltily. ‘You should have told me!’ he said. ‘You would have had all the love and comfort you wanted. You would have had a wedding ring. Aye, we could have wed and told them after.’

‘And borne their rage? They might well have cast us off and you would grow to hate me then.’

‘Don’t say such things! Oh Felicity — my sweet Felicity. What’s to be done? If you go away when will I see my child?’

‘And when will I see you?’ she whispered. ‘I love you, Martin. No, don’t pretend you return it for I know ’tis not true. You are too young to love anyone but that’s to be expected.’

‘I’m not too young to father a child!’

‘No, but I beg you Martin, don’t let us part enemies. We have been loving and pleasant together and we have a child. Let it be a secret joy to you and not something of which you are ashamed. I confess I did wrong to keep it from you, but I wanted so desperately to bear you a son. I shall never regret it. Tell me you will think kindly of us both.’

‘I will. Indeed I will. Felicity, the child — does it move yet?’

‘Not yet. Another month, I think.’

‘And will you still be here?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said simply. ‘I am content to put myself into the hands of Fate. Whatever is in my stars, so shall it be.’

*

In the evening they sat round the fire. Felicity and Martin on one side of it and Maria on the other. Felicity was very pale and she fidgeted with the braid on her dress. Martin sat close to her but not touching, and although Felicity touched his hand lightly he did not take hold of it. He stared into the fire, his legs stretched out, a defiant expression on his face which made him look his age and very vulnerable. Maria tried to speak briskly and without emotion but it was difficult. Felicity’s quiet manner evoked her sympathy and Martin’s occasional blustering irritated her. But she made allowances. It was a distressing matter and they all reacted in their own ways according to character. Maria began by reading Hugo’s letter aloud so that there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that the measures she was going to suggest were necessary and for the general good.

‘Our good?’ Martin interrupted her. ‘Or the child’s good?’

‘Everyone’s good — as well as it can be,’ said Maria. ‘One love child cannot be allowed to bring down Heron. Allan’s inheritance cannot be used to support this household. In fact, it cannot do so for there is very little money and we can only sell plate. After that all we have is land and without that all is lost.’

It was a sobering admission and Martin and Felicity looked at her in alarm.

‘I propose,’ said Maria gently, ‘that we ask Frank Innly to take in the child and … ’

‘Not without me!’ cried Felicity, her eyes blazing.

‘ … and you.’ Maria finished the sentence. ‘Your twenty-five crowns would pay for your keep and you could help care for the children or even the sheep. Martin should finish his year with Frank and — ’

‘But surely Felicity can stay here until the child is born!’ cried Martin. ‘There is no need to banish her like a criminal. Innly is a good man but they are peasants!’

Maria went on as though he had not spoken. ‘Martin should finish his year with Frank and mayhap, if our financial position is better, could then spend a year in Italy.’

‘We are both to be banished!’ he cried.

Felicity gave him a quick glance which said that he should restrain himself. ‘I beg you, be patient,’ she said.

‘By this time,’ said Maria, ‘you will be nearer eighteen and we can begin negotiations for a wealthy bride. ’Tis no use to protest, Martin. You have always known that Romney House can scarcely survive on sheep alone. Harold had his own fortune, but there is nothing left of it. There is not enough land to graze more sheep and not enough money to buy more land.’

Felicity wiped away a silent tear but said nothing. Martin put an arm round her shoulder and Maria looked away unable to bear the tenderness in his eyes.

‘With a wealthy wife you can buy land, sheep, raise a family and you will be self-supporting. If necessary, you will be in a position to help us at Heron if we find ourselves in desperate straits. If you wish to adopt Felicity’s child at a later date — if for instance Felicity became ill or died — you could discuss it with your wife. The child would not inherit but — ’

Felicity looked up. ‘But a love child cannot expect anything but charity,’ she said bitterly. ‘I accept that.’

‘But if Felicity weds?’

‘Then the child will take her husband’s name. That can’t be avoided.’

They were all silent, thinking.

‘One question is,’ said Maria, ‘is it sensible for you two to be so near each other? Does that put too great a strain on you both? Will it put a strain on Martin’s marriage? His wife will have to be told the truth. I think we must wait and see. Take one step at a time. Now we must find a good family to give a home to Felicity and the child — for two years. When Martin returns from Italy — supposing that he goes — we can reconsider. Felicity’s husband, if she weds, may wish to take her further away from Romney House. ’Tis all ifs and buts and maybes. We must not expect to solve all the problems at once.’

A deep sigh shook Felicity but she merely nodded. ‘I will do whatever you advise,’ she said quietly, ‘with Martin’s approval. Boy or girl I swear I shall be a good mother to Martin’s child and I will make no trouble and cause no embarrassment. But no one, now or in the future, will part me from my child.’

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Nat Gully was hidden behind a log, covered with leaves and branches. He groaned as he saw Lorna’s small figure approaching along the river bank. Then he smiled affectionately and resigned himself to the inevitable meeting. Beside him, Brin strained his neck eagerly in an effort to see her, but dared not move until Nat gave the word. As she came on, Lorna called Nat’s name and turned her head this way and that in search of him.

‘Nat! Where are you, Nat?’ she called. ‘I’ve something for you. A Christmas gift. Nat Gulle-e-ey!’

She stood still and, with her hands on her hips, stared round, surveying river, field and wood with an impatient stare. She walked on and, suddenly breasting the small slope, came upon the heron which Nat had tethered close to the net. He thought of the care he had spent on his trap and the time he had spent behind the log, cramped and chilled. Ah well, ’twas the season of goodwill, so they said! He smiled as she regarded the bird warily. The heron observed her solemnly and when she waved her arms to drive it away it remained where it was flapping and struggling. Then she saw the cord round its leg.

‘Nat!’ she called again. ‘Here’s a bird on a lead.’

If she went any further she would step on to the net. With a grin Nat threw back his head and gave an imitation of a fox barking and Lorna jumped visibly. Then he hooted like an owl and she looked skyward. When he grunted like a hog, her expression changed and she stamped her foot.

‘Nat! I know ’tis you! Where are you hiding, you wretch?’ She looked round her again, eyes narrowed. ‘You shan’t have my gift,’ she warned him. ‘Show yourself, Nat Gully — or I shan’t marry you!’

He burst out laughing at this threat and at the same time released Brin, who ran forward barking excitedly, giving the clue to Nat’s whereabouts.

‘Don’t move,’ cried Nat, ‘or you will rob me of my Christmas dinner!’

As she patted the dog, he stood up and went out to greet her. She flung her arms round him and he kissed her warmly.

‘Merry Christmas, young Lorna,’ he said.

‘Merry Christmas
old
Nat!’ she replied.

He pointed out the net spread carefully over the grass and led her round it and back to his hiding place.

‘Who are you hiding from?’ she asked.

By way of answer he held up the end of a cord which ran through the grass towards the net. ‘I am up early to catch a plump bird for my Christmas dinner,’ he said. ‘The net is sprinkled with grass and the bird won’t see it. At least I hope he won’t. When he comes along I tug this and — ’

He rolled his eyes expressively and she gave a squeal of excitement.

‘I’ll catch him for you, Nat.’

Nat laughed. ‘I doubt you could keep that tongue of yours still enough for long enough. And you’ll be missed. Fancy sneaking out on Christmas morning in all your finery! You’d best not snag it on a bramble or there’ll be something said — and it
won’t
be Merry Christmas!’

‘I don’t care. I’ve brought you this. I made it and if you laugh I shall take it back and give it to Jon.’

‘Laugh?’ he protested as he unwrapped the gift. ‘I’d cut me throat first! Ah, now look at that. Why ’tis real handsome, that is.’

‘Do you like it?’

‘With all my heart,’ he said, wondering what it was.

‘’Tis a pochette to keep handkerchiefs in. Are you sure you truly like it? See, your initial is stitched in red against the yellow cloth and this button is pearl. Minnie gave it me.’

She looked at him anxiously. ‘Put your handkerchief in it,’ she prompted. ‘’Twill fit neatly, you’ll see.’

Nat had never possessed a handkerchief in his life, but he made a pretence of searching for it.

‘Well I’m jiggered!’ he exclaimed. ‘Must have lost it.’

‘Oh Nat!’ Her tone was reproachful.

‘But I’ve another at home,’ he said hastily. ‘And ’tis a fine clean one so I’ll pop it into this — what is it, d’you say?’

‘A pochette. ’Tis a French word.’

‘My, my. A French pochette. I swear I never had a finer gift. My most hearty thanks, young — I mean, Lorna.’ Brin wriggled closer to her as they sat in the hide and she patted him absentmindedly. Then she sighed.

‘Sighing on Christmas day?’

She frowned. ‘’Tis scarce like Christmas at all,’ she told him, ‘with so many long faces and Allan gone away. Mama is sad without him and Papa is cross and doesn’t smile. Eloise wouldn’t come with us to church this morning for she says she is “shamed” to hold up her head with all eyes upon her and everyone wondering where her betrothed has gone.’

‘Oh? Don’t she know?’

Lorna shook her head. ‘To London, is all he says, but Mama says London is a big place and mayhap he is lost and will find the way shortly.’

‘She told Eloise that?’

‘No, she told me.’

‘Never you fret. Folks is queer but they’re all we got.’

‘Where’s your folks, Nat?’

‘All gone.’

‘And so you spend Christmas all alone?’

‘But I like it that way. No scowling faces, no sad ones.
I’m
as happy as a lark.’

‘But you’ve no dinner!’ Her eyes sparkled mischievously.

‘I’ll be happier when I’ve caught a nice fat quail or mayhap a partridge. Then I’ll stuff it with an onion and a sprig of thyme.’

‘Minnie is roasting a goose because Beatrice is partial to it. She’s come with Mark and the little one. I don’t like Mark. He calls me Tiddler as if I was a child! And Martin laughs.’

‘Martin is there also? You have a full house. ’Tis to be hoped the walls are strong. I heard of a house once, just about as big as yours, and so many folk went crowding in it fell down with a great roar of dust and timber! ’Tis to be hoped no one else arrives.’

Lorna swallowed nervously. ‘Felicity Carr is come also,’ she whispered.

‘Lordy! Then you’d best get along home before it falls down!’

She hesitated.

‘Mayhap I will … ’ She stood up and brushed down her skirts. ‘Nat, why do you keep that heron? He has mean eyes. I don’t care for him at all.’

He laughed. ‘He’s my decoy. When a bird sees him there standing so still he thinks it quite safe to come and gobble up the worms I’ve scattered. Then when he is near enough and intent upon his dinner — Whoosh! I pull the cord and the net closes around him.’

‘You could eat the heron,’ said Lorna hopefully.

‘No, no. He is worth a dozen dinners, I tell you, but you’d best be off before they all come looking for you with those long, sad faces. Wish them all the season’s greetings from me. And enjoy yourself.’

She began to walk away, giving the bird a wide berth. Nat watched the small figure until it was out of sight then settled down to wait once more with Brin beside him. The little terrier whined softly for attention and nuzzled Nat’s hand.

‘We’ve got each other,’ Nat told him, fondling the small silky ears. ‘What do we need with folks?’

*

No one else at Heron had been told that Felicity was pregnant. Hugo and Maria thought it best that as few people knew as possible and only Martin regretted the secrecy. He was immensely proud of the achievement and would have enjoyed the drama. Felicity was content to follow Maria’s advice and if anyone at Ladyford suspected anything from her appearance they kept their own counsel. Eloise, wrapped up in her own tragedy, noticed nothing and, slightly to Felicity’s embarrassment, chose her as confidante and constantly tried to arrange for the two of them to be alone together. She wanted sympathy, and that Felicity could give. She did not know her well enough to judge her, and Allan’s desertion had shocked her.

Eloise’s feelings towards Felicity were ambivalent. She resented the fact that she was treated like a guest instead of a servant, and she noted jealously the consideration which Martin showed her. She was also incensed by Felicity’s obvious affection for Martin, which he did nothing to discourage. But she needed someone to talk to — someone who would not argue or condemn. Felicity, knowing so little of the events leading up to Allan’s defection, would be ideal. Eloise therefore waited until Christmas dinner was over and then suggested a walk in the garden to stretch their legs and settle their stomachs! Felicity understood the reason for the invitation, but agreed nonetheless. Eloise’s problems might help her to forget her own.

Martin, Hugo, Matt and Jon had gone hawking. Maria rested in her room. Beatrice, as promised, took the children to spend some time at Ladyford with the Benets. Tomorrow all those at Heron would dine at Ladyford, but Melissa wanted a few quiet hours so that Beatrice’s child could get to know Nina’s. They were cousins, Melissa insisted, and should grow up with affection for each other. She believed privately that the world was a dangerous place and she considered a close-knit family to be a form of insurance.

There was a thick frost which the sun had not dispersed and the autumn leaves crackled underfoot, but the two young women were well wrapped against the cold air. The dogs had followed them out and now circled them happily, sometimes chasing each other, sometimes tumbling in front of Eloise and Felicity and threatening to trip them up. Without thinking where they were walking, they found themselves in the riverside garden, looking down into the dark swiftly flowing water. The almond-scented flowers of summer had gone. A rat scurried into the water at their approach and they watched it swim strongly, to land up on the far bank.

‘You’ve no idea what I have had to endure,’ Eloise exclaimed as soon as she was sure they would not be overheard. ‘Allan has dealt with me so unkindly, ’tis almost beyond belief. It has all been a disaster. To go off without a word. To leave me in this uncertainty. I wonder I am still sane. You heard, no doubt, that he is in London?’

‘Lorna spoke of it. I didn’t ask. It was not my place.’

‘Indeed not. But doubtless all Ashburton has heard the sorry tale by now. I think I could cheerfully strangle him! Oh, the humiliation. You cannot imagine.’

‘But I can. I feel for you, Eloise.’

‘I have been deceived from the very first.’

Felicity heard the bitterness in her voice.

‘They did not tell me of his background. His dreadful link with that terrible family! Two more were hanged recently for their part in a murder. You heard of that?’ Felicity nodded. ‘Allan has bad blood in him — but I would have borne that. Even when I knew, I was prepared to wed him. Would you have been so loyal? Would any girl in her right mind? I was a fool. Such a fool.’

She picked up a stone and tossed it into the water without any interest. ‘When I think that I refused better men than him. Can you believe that?’

‘I believe you if you say so. Of course I do.’

‘There was a man loved me — in Rochester. His name was Steven — Steven Kennet.’ She did not mention that he would have been quite unsuitable. ‘He loved me desperately and when he knew I was betrothed — he was beside himself. Oh, I could have wed elsewhere. Even Martin.’ Felicity went pale but Eloise was too absorbed in her narrative to notice. ‘He begged me to wed him but I would not. And he’s a fine looking man — with his dark colouring. And such eyes! I found him better company, too. Allan is so strange at times. So dour and pensive. It was Martin’s persistence that made me ill so that we could not go ahead with the wedding. Why do you stare so? Did you not hear of it? I feel the whole of Devon knows of my sufferings.’

Felicity lowered herself to the steps and pulled up her cloak hood in an effort to hide her confusion.

‘Are you cold out here?’ asked Eloise.

Felicity shook her head and Eloise sat on the step beside her. ‘But
I
shall have the last word,’ she said. ‘I have written to my father. When he realizes the humiliations I have borne he will take me away. I shall go with a thankful heart. There is nothing here for me now but painful memories. Allan will come home to find me gone. Gone to a man who will appreciate me.’

‘To Steven Kennet?’

‘Steven? No — he has wed elsewhere,’ she invented hastily. ‘But I shall take my dowry and my father will arrange a new match. Heron has lost its charms for me. The mine is failing. Hugo is in a black despair and there is no money. What is there for me here? I shall be well rid of them all.’

‘You say your father will come for you? Does Maria know?’

‘Most certainly not, and you must not tell them. They would try to dissuade me and I am quite determined. Promise you’ll say nothing.’

‘Of course I do. ’Tis no business of mine.’ She spoke mechanically, still digesting the disturbing news about Martin which Eloise had disclosed so innocently. Had he really wanted to wed Eloise? It seemed possible. Even probable. She was a beautiful girl and her dowry had no doubt been a generous one. If what she said was true then Martin had turned to her, Felicity, after his rejection. She did not relish the thought, but tried to convince herself that now it was of no significance. Nothing could take away the child she carried and, whether or not Martin loved her, she loved him. That was enough. She would not let Eloise’s remarks distress her. It would be harmful to the child. A blithe mother bears a blithe child.

‘I said, wouldn’t you?’ Eloise was staring at her. ‘Your thoughts are miles away,’ she accused.