White Water (45 page)

‘Aye, and Jacob. We mustn’t forget him. Now run along.’

They watched her run off, full of curiosity and Oliver raised his glass. ‘A toast to Maudesley, our new home.’

They all raised their glasses, which were of a delicate green, and drank.

‘Italian,’ said Oliver, seeing Thomas’ interest. ‘Oh, there are so many beautiful things. They are stored upstairs waiting to be unpacked when the house is furnished. I thought Nina and I should choose the various items together. There is a wood carver in Plymouth who is making us chests and a bed. They will be here shortly. There is no one to touch him for craftsmanship. And there are more wall hangings — one for you and Papa, one for Maria — ’

He broke off and his face darkened. ‘I heard about Hugo and Martin. ’Tis a bad business.’

‘And the wedding? Have you heard that also?’ cried Thomas, trying not to let the sad business spoil Oliver’s moment of triumph.

‘Aye, last night when I arrived. I so longed to come home earlier but dared not leave the ship until the shares were fairly apportioned and mine secure. I have learned to trust no one.’

‘But how did you know?’ cried Maggie. ‘That Maudesley was for sale? And why did the workmen say you were a foreigner?’

‘I let them believe it. I wanted to surprise you so I pretended to be acting for the real purchaser. The Tuckers knew, of course, but they, too, were sworn to secrecy. In fact my early negotiations took place while we were anchored off Portugal, so ’twas easy enough to maintain the deception. As for Maudesley, ’twas
not
for sale and I had the devil of a job to persuade them to part with it. But, what is money for if not to buy your heart’s desire?’

The maid refilled the glasses at a sign from Oliver.

‘Oh,’ he said, ‘this young lady is our first maid. She’s the daughter of the tile-maker who provided our new roof. Engaging the rest of the servants will be Nina’s responsibility, though she will need your help Mama.’

Melissa nodded. ‘And the boy who came to the house with the message?’

‘Son of the timber merchant in Ashburton. He has helped tidy the garden and I may keep him on to help in the stables. He is older than he looks. But now let me show off my house. I am inordinately proud of it. You must bear with me, but I have risked my life for it and now I long to share it with my dearest Nina. She waited so patiently for me to return and she loved me when I had nothing!’ He kissed her fondly and led the way upstairs. As they went from room to room he carried Jason on his right arm and kept his left arm round Nina’s waist. Maggie felt a lump in her throat as she watched them together. He told them of the rest of his plans — to go into partnership in the Heron mine, if Allan would agree. He had enough money to bring over a new consultant if Bucher still refused to return. They no longer needed finance from London. With the capital Oliver had available there should be no question that the mine would thrive again.

Melissa and Thomas walked hand in hand marvelling, as Oliver described his plans for the future. Maggie followed with Jacob. Della ran from room to room and up the stairs and down again, her footsteps echoing throughout the house.

The garden, too. Great plans had been made for that. Exotic trees and shrubs had been ordered and would all arrive in the course of time. As they stood outside a little later, preparing to remount and ride back to Ladyford, Melissa looked at Thomas. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement and her eyes shone.

‘Thomas!’ she whispered. ‘It does seem that the bad times are over. Dare I hope? I am so afeared that I shall wake up and find it all a dream.’

‘’Tis no dream,’ said Thomas. ‘I believe the pendulum for Heron, for the Kendals, indeed for
all
of us, is swinging the other way at last.’

Christmas came and went, taking the old year with it. Snow fell at the end of January and was washed away by the fierce February rains. March heralded the traditional winds but there was no more snow. Heron huddled bleakly in the lee of the moor and waited impatiently for April and the first real signs of spring. It came at last and straggly yellow catkins appeared in the hedgerow and the pale sunshine drew forth green shoots from the ground and coaxed open the buds on the trees.

In the big bed at Heron, Felicity opened her eyes and at once blinked herself into true wakefulness. The mattress, of goose feathers, was delightfully warm and the heavy blue bed drapes were pulled back to allow the warmth from the fire to reach them. Raising herself on one arm she glanced in the direction of the hearth and saw that a few embers still glowed dully. There might be time to save it. The small silver table clock showed ten past five so the rest of the household would not stir for another hour. She looked down at Allan, sleeping beside her. He slept so soundly as usual. It amused her each morning to see the difficulty with which he struggled out of his dreams and into reality. Moving gently, she lowered herself to the floor and tiptoed to the fire. A smile played at the corners of her mouth as she began to scrape the embers together. Then she blew softly to promote a flame and when that happened she arranged small logs over it and sat back on her heels to watch it flare. The smile returned and she stood up and crossed to the chest which stood at the end of the bed. She lifted the lid from its depths, took a flagon of madeira wine and two of the green wine glasses which Oliver had given them. Closing the lid, she set the flagon of wine and the glasses on top of the chest and returned to the fire. Another log went on and she sat beside it for a while, eyes closed, enjoying the warmth. When finally it blazed to her satisfaction, she found her hairbrush and began to brush her long hair until it floated round her shoulders, tangle-free, framing her face which was still rosy from the fire. Her grey eyes sparkled with mischief as she dabbed lavender oil between her breasts and behind her ears. Then, her preparations complete, she slipped between the sheets once more and began the slow, but pleasant, task of wakening her sleeping partner.

Allan lay with his back to her, his knees curled up, his face hidden below the bedcovers which were pulled well up around his head. Carefully she fitted her own body round his, and slid one arm down over his body to his thigh and let it rest there, unmoving. Softly she nuzzled her face into the back of his neck below the tousled blond hair. She kissed his neck and his left shoulder, edging down the covers to reveal the fine sprinkling of gold hairs which covered his shoulders and thickened over his arms. The skin of his back was pale and freckled and his shoulder blades showed like two budding wings. She kissed the one she could reach and then, as he still slept, she smiled and nestled against him for a moment, her cheek against his back, her arm thrown over his long, lean body so oblivious to hers. They had been married exactly five months and only now were they beginning to feel at ease in their new situation. The household had accepted their union and Felicity was given as much respect as any previous mistress of Heron. Piers and Lorna, now growing rapidly, treated her with affection and Melissa visited occasionally. Allan and Felicity had twice been invited to dine at Maudesley and Beatrice had written to them, promising a visit when the weather improved. Poor Martin had been their only problem. His charming face had haunted Felicity’s dreams and she had several times woken to find that she was calling his name aloud. Fortunately Allan slept too soundly to have heard but Felicity had been shaken and distressed.

Many times she had surprised Allan staring at the twins with an expression of deep remorse but she had made no comment. Frequently, however, she brought Martin’s name into the conversation, determined that his death should be regarded as any other and not locked away in Allan’s mind, to become a forbidden subject.

Her relationship with Allan had slowly deepened and already there were moments of joy, the occasional spark of passion or a shared tenderness. Felicity was beginning to believe that their marriage would prove a happy one. Gradually she had seen the terrible darkness fade from Allan’s eyes and knew that he too felt the first stirrings of hope.

It was time to wake him up, she decided, and slid her hand down over his body, smoothing the firm buttocks, reaching gently between his legs. Slowly, softly, she anticipated the growing excitement that would finally rouse his body from its dreaming state. He grunted softly, and stirred, rolling onto his back, so that she had to move out of his way. She ran her hand over his firm abdomen up and up to his chest, brushing the nipples lightly with her fingertips. He gasped and suddenly his eyes were wide open and he was staring at her in astonishment.

‘’Tis no dream, then!’ he whispered delightedly.

‘No dream, sweet Allan.’

She leaned over and kissed his mouth and he pulled her down on top of him, trapping her, ignoring her protests.

‘I thought I dreamed,’ he said. ‘I was reluctant to waken and then … So my wife is a baggage!’

He laughed as she tried to wriggle free. A log shifted and he noticed for the first time that the fire blazed.

‘So you have mended the fire, too!’ he teased. ‘This is a fine start to the day. Why do you try to pull free of my arms? You cannot wake me with such promises and then fight shy of me.’

‘I don’t fight shy,’ she protested, ‘but my strategy is not yet complete. Look there — at the foot of the bed.’

He struggled to a sitting position and laughed aloud.

‘Wine, too! And before cockcrow! My little Felicity! What has gotten into that pretty head of yours? I thought you a sober maid.’

‘Then you misjudged me, husband. Come, ’tis for you to pour. A toast to us on our anniversary. Five months wed to the day and no regrets.’

He knelt on the bed, still rumpled from sleep, looking like an excited child.

‘And after the toast?’ he asked.

She nodded, smiling, and for a moment they clung together. Then he released her and moved to the foot of the bed to pour the wine. He handed her both glasses to hold while he pulled the drapes, hiding them from view if one of the children or a servant should surprise them at their love-making. When they were thus secure, Allan raised his glass.

‘What shall we drink to?’ he asked. ‘This is your notion.’

Felicity raised her glass to touch his.

‘To you, to me and to the twins,’ she said, ‘and to Martin who brought us together.’

For a second or two they looked steadily into each other’s eyes.

Then Allan nodded, approvingly.

‘I’ll drink to that,’ he said.

*

Devon
,
July
1581

Felicity waited at the bend in the road, a hand shading her eyes from the evening sun through which Allan would ride at any moment. Or so she hoped. She had waited impatiently there for what seemed an eternity but was in fact less than half an hour. She held a letter from Maria in her hand and she had only read it through once. Then it had seemed a good idea to waylay Allan on his way back from the mine and share it with him. Now she could wait no longer and sat down on a grassy mound to read it for a second time. After the usual greetings Maria spoke of Arnsville with affection:

‘’Tis as though I never have been away. The first year was difficult for me as I wrote you and each letter from Lorna tugged at my heart. But, suddenly, I feel as though I have come home. You will not understand it, I scarce do myself, but ’tis true. I am content at last. My days are full of work and prayer. My sewing is so admired that I have replaced the old chambress whose eyesight is failing. Katharine is a good friend and Dame Veronica makes us both laugh. She is so outspoken and will not take us seriously. I am now mercifully removed from Dame Martha and her snores. She is at one end of the room and I am at the other and can sleep soundly at nights. I also work in the garden twice a week and enjoy the fresh air and exercise and my appetite is quite returned.’

Felicity scanned the page, looking for the paragraph about Rochester.

‘A letter from Abby arrived last week. Her eldest son is to wed on August the seventh and I have applied for permission to attend. Will I see you all there? I pray so. If I must take a chaperone with me I shall ask for Katharine and hope the prioress is agreeable. Abby speaks also of Eloise. She is now wed and has a child. Poor Adam suffers still from his leg which is now badly ulcerated and, she says, will likely never heal … ’

She thought of Eloise for a moment then pushed the image from her. Standing up, she shaded her eyes again. There was still no sign of Allan so she began to walk on in the direction from which he would come.

Maria was obviously delighted by the progress being made at the Heron mine. Allan would be pleased, she thought — and deservedly so. The mine was flourishing again. With Oliver’s money and Allan’s experience, they made a good partnership. But then Allan and Oliver had always been firm friends, more like brothers, she thought, even as boys, from what Minnie told her. It was reasonable that they would work well together. And Bucher had come over to England again! Only for six months and only at great expense and with stringent safeguards for his protection — but he had come. And he had proved his worth. The new machinery was built and installed and the new shaft was progressing more rapidly than they had ever believed possible. They had also reopened an old adit, to be reworked with the improved techniques made possible by Bucher. They owed him a great deal.

The road climbed steeply and at the top she caught the full force of the breeze which ruffled her hair under its slim head-dress and whipped at the hem of her skirt. Make haste, my love, she thought. I have so much to tell you. And even if she had nothing else to say, she could tell him that she loved him. Minnie teased her — a woman does not fall in love with her own husband! But Felicity had done so.