The House Of Allerbrook. Valerie Anand

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СКАЧАТЬ had trouble lately with foxes trying to get at their poultry? There was a dogfox prowling after mine last week, though the dogs and the gander saw him off….”

      They were home again and Jane had retired to her chamber to sit on a stool in her loose bedgown and over-robe while Lisa brushed her hair, when Francis tapped on the door and was admitted. He gave Lisa a dismissive glance and she left them together. Francis sat down on the side of the bed. “So, now we know.”

      “Now we know what?” Jane asked, brushing her long brown hair herself. It gave her hands something to do and stopped them from shaking. Francis looked so very forbidding.

      “The real reason why you left the court. You weren’t afraid of the king! You were ordered home for idleness and incompetence. You seem to have added lies to foolishness.”

      “You believe Dorothy, then?”

      “Why should Dorothy lie? You often said you didn’t want to go to court. I suspect that you simply gave way to your absurd pining for home, failed to do your duties properly and got yourself dismissed—half if not entirely deliberately.”

      “Dorothy lied because she doesn’t like me,” said Jane tiredly.

      “That’s absurd. Why ever shouldn’t she?”

      “I have no interest in Ralph Palmer,” said Jane, deciding on candour. “But Dorothy believes he only cares for her dowry and that if mine were bigger, he’d prefer me to her. She was also jealous of the attention the king paid me! She hates me for it.”

      “If you have no interest in Ralph Palmer,” said Francis unexpectedly, “then I’m surprised at you. He’s personable enough, I would have said! Though I saw your face when Peter Carew rode away. I suppose he’s the one you’d like. You can forget that, my girl. The Carews, even more than the Palmers, go in for advantageous marriages. What am I to do with you?”

      “I wish you’d just try believing me, Francis! It’s true I didn’t really want to go to court, but I fled from it for the reasons I told you. I was not dismissed. Can’t I be useful to you here?”

      “I don’t need you here, Jane. Peggy manages very well with the maids.” Francis rose to his feet. “I don’t know for sure whether the liar is Dorothy or you, but I’m inclined to think it’s you. I don’t mind keeping Lisa on, if she’s willing to stay. She must be a good seamstress—tirewomen usually are. There is always work for a skilled needle in a house like this. But as for you…”

      “Francis, what are you saying?”

      “Harry Hudd is still looking for a young wife and you don’t want to go far from home. He’s a decent, honest man, Jane. He’s older than you, but he’s still under fifty, and he lives just down the hill. Your dowry will be more than enough for him! I shall talk to him tomorrow.”

      “Francis, no!” Jane could hardly believe her ears. She stared blankly at her brother. Memories flooded back—of their parents’ deaths, of how Francis had hugged his sisters and they had hugged him back and they had all cried together. Now Sybil was exiled and Jane was to be thrown to—Harry Hudd and Rixons.

      “Please!” Jane said to her brother’s implacable eyes. “He’s…he’s old and Rixons farmhouse is awful, so cramped and dirty and…”

      “The roof is sound. I’ve seen to that, and you can clean the house. Don’t argue, Jane. I don’t suppose he will. I wouldn’t have foisted Sybil on to him, carrying another man’s love child, but you’re a different matter. Determinedly virtuous, according to you,” said Francis with a kind of grim humour. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s settled.”

      He left the room. That night Jane did not sleep. In the morning he went out early, riding his new horse Silvertail. He didn’t return until after dinner and Peggy expressed anxiety. “Saw that new animal of his bucking as the master rode off. The master’s good in the saddle, but I’d say that horse has a vicious streak.”

      Francis, however, reappeared at suppertime, looking pleased with himself. Over the meal, he said, “Jane, tomorrow morning you will have a caller. Wait in the courtyard at the back if the weather’s fine, in the parlour if not. Don’t wear brocade or damask, but look clean and tidy.”

      “Why? Who is the caller?”

      “Wait and see,” said Francis, and withdrew to his chamber before she could ask any further. Not that she needed to ask. She already knew. Ahead of her lay another sleepless night.

      Next day it was sunny. Shortly after breakfast the caller duly arrived and Francis brought him to the rear courtyard, where Jane was miserably sitting on a stone bench. Harry Hudd, his cap in his hand, his wind-reddened face carefully shaved and his square body encased in the brown fustian doublet and hose which were his nearest approach to a formal suit, had come to ask Jane Sweetwater to marry him.

      “I’ve your brother’s consent. There’s no need to worry about that, maid.”

      Worry about it? Could even Harry Hudd imagine that she would worry if Francis forbade the banns?

      “I’ve not that much to offer, but I’ve got summat. Good health I’ve got. I’m all in workin’ order and likely there’ll be little ones. I reckon ’ee’d like that. Most women want childer. House b’ain’t much, but I’ll leave ’ee free to do whatever’s best. There’ll be money enough—thy dowry and a bit I’ve got put by, only bein’ just a man, I’ve never known how to make a house pretty. My old wife long ago, she knew, but that’s long in the past. She were sickly, that’s why we had no babbies. That were her, not me. I’ve a good flock of sheep, all my own, and half a dozen cows in milk and I hear ’ee’s handy in the dairy. Hear ’ee’s good with poultry, too. We don’t keep geese, but there’s a duck pond….”

      He went on and on, reciting the virtues of Rixons, as if she didn’t know them already and as if they could possibly compensate for the shortcomings of their proprietor. At the end, she said that she must have time to think and he seemed to approve of that. Maidenly and very proper were the words he used to describe it. He’d come back the next day for her answer, he said, and bowed himself out.

      “The answer will be no,” said Jane to Francis when he came out to her after saying goodbye to Harry. “You can’t really believe that I’ll agree to this!” But she said it with fear in her voice. There were ways, and everyone knew it, of inducing unwilling daughters or sisters to marry where their families wished. Plenty of ways.

      “If you don’t agree,” said Francis, “then you must shift for yourself. This will no longer be your home. Go to the Lanyons and ask if they’ll take in another ill-behaved girl who’s been ejected from Allerbrook House. Pity there aren’t any nunneries left now where I could send you. But I won’t have you here. Smile and do as you’re bid, and I’ll see it’s a good wedding and I’ll say it’s what you want, what you’ve chosen. I’ll add to your dowry—you’ll be able to put your new home well and truly to rights. It won’t be a bad bargain.”

      “Francis, please don’t do this! What have I done that’s so terrible? Refuse to become someone’s mistress? Even if the man was the king, does it make any difference? Oh, what can I say to make you understand? Ask Dr. Spenlove what he thinks! He won’t approve of this, you know he won’t….”

      “Spenlove will mind his tongue or else leave my employment.”

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