Suki, page 55
Ariadne had sent an answer the same afternoon to say how greatly she was surprised by Suki’s news and how much she sympathised.
‘Do not lose heart, my dear,’ she wrote. ‘Allow time to heal him, as it surely will. When his memory is returned I do not doubt that he will love you as truly as he ever did. I cannot wait to visit with you at Appleton, which I shall do at the first opportunity, you may be sure, for I am full of curiosity about this new brother of mine, especially as Mamma must not know that I know his circumstances, and would dearly like to meet him, particularly if he has the good sense to marry my dearest friend. Write to me at the very next opportunity for I long to hear how this matter will turn out.’
But there was a deal to be lived through before that could be done and a long road to travel. Fortunately, the first part of the journey went well, for although Jack spent his time gazing moodily out of the window or pretending to read his wretched book, she managed to keep William amused with the cup and ball and the monkey on a stick and the jack-in-a-box, and fed him a sugar stick when he started to grizzle, so the time passed relatively easily.
When they stopped that evening at The Bear at Slough, Jack realised, rather belatedly, that they were on the road to Bath.
‘How now?’ he scowled at Suki. ‘Does our coachman not know the road?’
‘We are to travel by way of Lambton Farm at Twerton,’ she told him. ‘Milady’s orders.’ And her heart lifted for now she could tell him about Beau and the telling might restore his memory.
But he was already turning away from her. ‘’Twill be a matter of livestock, I daresay,’ he said casually, and strode into the inn to make sure of a good room.
She realised that she was shivering with the cold of rejection. Oh, how easily he could cast her down. And how thoughtlessly. It hurt her that he was so unaware of her and turned away from her so quickly, for it showed how little she meant to him. And there were still two more days to journey before they would reach Lambton Farm. It was uncommon hard to have to wait so long, especially when it wasn’t in her nature to be patient. But patient was what she had to be, notwithstanding. There was nothing for it but to travel on, keep her secret and feed her remaining hope as well as she could.
William was less well behaved on the second day. He grizzled and complained and climbed over the seats and smeared the windows with his sticky fingers. In the end she had to suckle him to get him to settle. But on the third day he was exhausted and slept all afternoon, sprawled across her knees and growing heavier by the mile, as the sky coloured with sunset, the horses laboured and the carriage grew dark. She was very relieved when they turned in at Lambton Farm at last, to the usual cacophony of affronted farm animals, and Barnaby drew the horses to a halt.
Jack sprang out before the step was down. ‘We must make haste,’ he said to Barnaby, shouting above the din of squeals and squawks, ‘if we’re to return to Bath and find good lodgings for the night. Who am I to see?’
‘Well, as to that, sir,’ Barnaby shouted as he unfolded the step, ‘’tis Suki you must ask. She’s the one what knows.’
She was carefully carrying her sleepy baby out of the carriage, as Blue and Bessie scrambled down from their perch on the driving seat. ‘If Bessie will take him,’ she said, ‘I’ll show ’ee the way. Let un see the pigs, Bessie. He’ll like that. Give him a little stick so’s he can scratch their backs. ’Twill stop ’em a-squealing.’ Somebody was opening the door of the cottage and she could see Mrs Havers’ inquisitive face framed in the window, but fortunately Farmer Lambton was already on his own doorstep and waiting for them, so she led the Captain across to make the necessary introductions.
‘Mr Daventry, this is Farmer Lambton, who been a-caring for your property since April. Mr Lambton, please to meet Mr Jack Daventry, a kinsman of milady’s.’
Property? Jack thought, staring at her. ’Twas a curious word to use of livestock. But there was no time to question her, for the farmer was leading him towards the stable yard.
‘He’s all ready for ’ee, sir,’ he said. ‘You’ll find him in fine fettle.’
The stable was dark with dusk but there was no mistaking the horse that stood in the first stall, pricking his ears at their approach.
‘’Od’s teeth!’ his master cried, running to fling an arm about that splendid neck. ‘’Tis my Beau! My Beau! How now, my beauty. I never thought to find ’ee again.’ He was so close to tears he had to duck his head into Beau’s mane, and the horse pawed the straw and twitched his flanks. ‘Let me look at ’ee.’
He had been most carefully groomed, his bay coat brushed till it shone, not a single tangle in mane or tail, his hooves new shod.
‘I had the smith look him over, so soon as I received our Suki’s billet,’ Farmer Lambton explained.
So she arranged this, Jack thought, glancing across to where she stood in the shadows. She’s known about it all along. The more he heard about this girl the more intriguing she became. ‘I’m beholden to ’ee, sir,’ he said to the farmer. ‘He’ll have cost ’ee a deal in fodder, I fear. I trust you have kept accounts.’
He had. ‘Written up week by week, sir, as is my custom.’
Jack said he was glad to hear it and promised to settle with him, ‘Forthwith. You have my word on’t. I’ll ride him first. Aye, I must ride ’ee, must I not my beauty.’ He was already hauling his saddle from its hook, impatient to be up and away. ‘You cannot know what it is to find my horse, sir. I thought I should never see him again and here he is, large as life and twice as handsome and raring to go, ain’t you my charmer.’
And that’s the way of it, Suki thought sadly, as she watched him saddle up and ride — oh, so happily — out of the yard and off along the bridle path, easing his great stallion from trot to canter to full rippling gallop. He remembers his horse but I’m forgot. She felt bleak to the point of tears.
‘I see I must cease my suit,’ Farmer Lambton observed as they stood in the yard together, ‘since your lover is returned to ’ee.’
She was confused by his directness. ‘Not that I didn’t take your proposal serious,’ she hastened to assure him. ‘Nor that I wasn’t grateful to ’ee. Uncommon grateful. ’Twas just…’
‘You’re a good girl, Suki Brown,’ he said. ‘And I wish ’ee joy. Indeed I do. Now you must go and see your mother. She’s been a-waiting for ’ee all this while.’
Which was plainly true, for Mrs Brown had been standing in the doorway of her cottage, with Tom and Molly owl-eyed beside her, ever since the carriage arrived.
‘So he came home again,’ she said, as Suki walked towards her, ‘this Captain of yours. He’m a fine figure of a man, I’ll grant ’ee that. Uncommon handsome, which anyone with half an eye can see even if she ain’t disposed to think well on un, which I aren’t. Have he put a ring on your finger?’
Such straight disapproval made Suki wince. ‘Well, as to that,’ she said, trying to make light of it, ‘he’s been ill an’ aren’t recovered yet. Time enough for rings and things when he’m back to health.’
‘He looks healthy enough to me,’ Mrs Brown said, watching as he sprang from the saddle and strode into the farmhouse. ‘Got a good firm step on un, I should say. A deal too firm for an invalid.’
Suki’s control was slipping. ‘I tread on ice,’ she said, her mouth trembling despite a mighty effort to keep it under control. ‘And whether ’tis thick enough to support me or will break under the next step I cannot tell.’
‘What ice?’ Molly said, examining the ground at her sister’s feet. ‘I can’t see no ice, Suki.’
And at that Mrs Brown called her youngest daughter a goose — and changed the subject, asking after the babba and the Bradburys and so giving Suki a chance to recover. And by the time she’d told them as much of her news as she could, Jack was out of the farmhouse and back in the saddle again, calling to her and eager to be off. So she kissed her family goodbye, promising she would see them again in the spring, and returned to the carriage and her sticky baby.
‘I shall ride into Bath,’ Jack said, patting Beau’s neck. ‘Bessie and Blue can take my place in the carriage to keep you company.’ But he didn’t look at Suki at all. He only had eyes for his horse. ‘We’ll not be parted again in a hurry,’ he said to the animal, ‘eh, my charmer.’ And was off and out of the yard before Barnaby had time to put up the step.
There was so much power about him, up on that great horse, so much pride and so much happiness. He led them into Bath as if he were at the head of a triumphant procession, looking about him like a conqueror. He’d barely walked ten yards along Stall Street before he was surrounded by old friends, calling out to him and to one another. ‘Why look-ee here. The Captain’s back.’
‘Well damn my eyes, where have you been, you varlet?’
‘’Od’s bones, ’tis uncommon good to see ’ee, damme if it ain’t. You must come and have supper with us. We won’t take no for an answer, damme.’
I am home, he thought, as they trooped after him to the inn. Back where I belong. I’ve money in my pocket, friends at my side, fine clothes on my back, land to farm and Beau in the stable. What more could I want? The horrors are over and done.
That evening, Suki had supper with Barnaby, Blue and Bessie, who was bubbling with the excitements of the day. ‘What a lovely horse Mr Daventry’s got,’ she said. ‘He’s a thoroughbred, I’d lay money, the size of him. And what a lot of captings you do know, Suki.’
Suki had been eating sleepily, worn out by travel and disappointment. ‘Do I?’ she asked.
‘First your brother,’ Bessie explained. ‘He’s a capting, ain’t he? The one we was looking for that time. And Mr Daventry. They was all calling him Capting out there in the street. I heard ’em. And your husband. He’s a capting, ain’t he?’
‘Yes,’ Suki agreed sadly. ‘He was.’
Bessie’s kind heart was touched to see her friend so melancholy. ‘He’ll come home sometime,’ she comforted. ‘You’ll see. They all comes home sometime or other.’
Suki gave her a bleak smile. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t think he will now. I’ve a-waited too long for un. I’m afeared he’m lost to me now an’ I must face up to it.’
‘’Tain’t like you to speak so,’ Bessie said, most surprised to hear such pessimism. ‘Never say die.’
‘You may have the right of it,’ Suki admitted, although in her present dejected state she didn’t believe it. ‘So I won’t say die. Not this evening, leastways. I’ll say goodnight to ’ee and hope ’ee sleeps well. We’ve a long day tomorrow and a deal of travelling to do.’
But sleep came late to Suki Brown that night. The mattress was cold and lumpy and, no matter how much she turned and sighed, she couldn’t find a comfortable hollow upon it. And then, when she finally drifted into a chill-footed sleep, she was plagued by a torment of dreams. She and Jack were strolling in the Spring Gardens but when they stopped to kiss, he wouldn’t look at her and when she tried to put her arms about his neck, he melted into air and was suddenly on horseback and riding away from her. She ran and ran, calling his name, as he leapt from the horse into a bucking carriage and from the carriage into a fast running river. She plunged into the water after him, but he swam away from her and was lost, leaving her to struggle in a current she couldn’t withstand, weeping and yearning.
When she woke it was grey daybreak and rain was pattering against the window. ‘’Twill be a bad day,’ she said to William as she held him over the chamber pot to piddle.
In the next room, Jack was waking from a nightmare, too. This one was so fraught and complicated that he was determined to forget it as soon as he could. ‘We’ll make an early start,’ he said to Blue, ‘for the weather is against us.’
It was a sensible decision, for the next and final leg of their journey was the hardest of them all. Rain fell from the sky in sharp white rods all day, whipping the horses, penetrating coats and breeches and reducing the road — which was in a poor enough condition in dry weather — to a slime and slurry of mud. They got stuck in deep ruts on two rain-driven occasions and all five of them had to get out and put their shoulders to the wheel to heave the carriage on again. Streams of water poured from Jack’s new hat and dripped from the toes of his new boots, Barnaby grumbled that he was wet to his skin, his passengers were so jolted and flung about that they were bruised beyond caring, and William did nothing but wail and wouldn’t be comforted by anything, not even a sugar stick, which he bit and flung away from him until shards of it were stuck to every surface in the carriage, from the seats and windows to Bessie’s skirt and Suki’s hair.
They were all heartily glad when they came to Appleton at last and could get indoors to a warm fire and clean clothes. Mrs Norris bustled into the courtyard to welcome them, dispatching servants right and left to carry in their baggage and lead their horses away to the stables to be groomed, fed and watered.
‘I got a good ol’ rabbit stew a-boiling for ’ee,’ she said. ‘Three jack rabbits. As plump a set of fine furry fellers as you ever saw. Been over the fire since mid-morning so they have. I reckoned ’twould be today, when we got milady’s billet. ’Twill give ’ee a good stomach lining, rabbit stew. What we all needs on a night like this, which ain’t a night to travel in and that’s the truth on’t. I never saw such rain, not since last Michaelmas. Come you up to the fire so soon as you’m ready.’
It was such a warm welcome and the stew smelled so enticing that Suki forgot that she had once thought the house old-fashioned, dark and draughty. Now she was simply glad to be indoors, aware of the heat of the fire, leaping and crackling in the hearth, and of the rich glow of the candles that flickered in the sconces on the wall and burned most warmly in the three triple-headed candlesticks upon the kitchen table, casting golden light on Mrs Norris’s new bread and patterning the pewter platters and tankards and the two great flagons of cider with lustrous stripes of amber.
That night she slept easily in the bed she’d used during that first impatient winter and woke refreshed and restored and eager for the day. The rain had stopped, there was a pale sun lighting the courtyard and the dawn chorus was in full-throated song.
As she was stirring the porridge pot, and gossiping with Mrs Norris, and assuring William that she’d not be a minute and then he could have his breakfast with a bit of patience, Bessie came yawning into the kitchen with a message from Mr Daventry.
‘He’s goin’ up to Home Farm, seemingly,’ she said, ‘for to see his property. Mr Norris is a-driving up in the cart and he says will you join him. Mr Daventry, I mean. Not Mr Norris. Though you’ll be a-joining ’em both in a manner a’ speaking. I’ll feed the babba if you like.’
The request was so unexpected after everything that had happened on their journey that Suki was bemused by it, but she put on her bonnet and wrapped her shawl round her shoulders and went out to obey it, notwithstanding.
Mr Norris was already in the driving seat, sitting bolt upright with his old black dog bolt upright beside him but there was no sign of Beau and that was a surprise, too, for she quite expected Jack to be in the saddle. But no, he climbed into the cart and sat down beside her. And off they went, following the bridle path east without a word being passed between them.
It was Mr Norris who did all the talking. ‘’Tis a mile and a half or thereabouts,’ he said, ‘and I’d best to warn ’ee, sir, ’tain’t in the best of conditions. Sir George keeps up the orchards wonderful, as you can see, sir, and the Appleton House is a model to the county, though I says it as shouldn’t, but Home Farm — well now that’s a different matter. ’Twas rented out to Mr Chomondley, you see, sir. He ran it for years, and since he passed on there’s been narry a one to care for un so ’tis… Well, you’ll know how ’tis, sir.’
It was a ruin. The farmhouse was built of wattle and daub and thatched in the old style, but the thatch was so old it was dust grey and full of great holes where the mice scrabbled and the small birds nested and twittered, and the house itself was so dangerously out of alignment that it looked as though it would tumble over at a sneeze. And as if that weren’t bad enough, the fields were no better. Most of them were clogged by burdock and nettles, the hedgerows were knotted for lack of husbandry, the ditches clogged for lack of clearing and one field so badly waterlogged that there were pools of water shining like blue sides all over it.
Suki’s heart sank at the sight of it, but Jack was determinedly cheerful.
‘’Twill need a deal of work,’ he said, ‘so ’tis as well I’m a man for a challenge. Let’s see the stables, Mr Norris, since they will be my main concern.’
The two men walked round the house to the yards behind it, with Suki trailing after them, wondering what purpose she served by being one of the party. He’d handed her out of the cart but he hadn’t spoken a word to her since they left Appleton House. In fact, he was speaking to Mr Norris again as she entered the yard and saw the stables.
‘Now these are a deal better built than the house,’ he was saying. Which they were, being made of stone with a firm brick floor and a tiled roof. ‘What do ’ee think to ’em, Suki?’
She said she thought they would serve.
‘And so they will,’ he agreed. ‘Uncommon well.’
‘I must be on my way now, sir,’ Mr Norris said, ‘if I’m to be at the mill betimes. If you don’t need me no more, I’ll bid ’ee good day.’
Am I to stay here, Suki wondered, or leave with Mr Norris?
She was answered at once. ‘We will take a look inside the house,’ Jack said, ‘and walk back presently. That will suit, will it not, Suki?’
So they took a look inside the house, which was full of dust and much decayed and according to Jack ‘not worth the ground it stands upon. I shall build a new house on that mound across there. In the new style, with fine windows and a good bold door, and a drawing room on the first floor where it ought to be. What say ’ee to that?’
