The Scandalous Duchess. Anne O'Brien

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      Chapter Three

      The rank poverty of Kettlethorpe settled over me in a desolation, as thick and dark as one of the boiled blood puddings that my cook was too keen on stirring up. Three thousand acres my son held here, and all of it either sand or stone or thick forest. Of good soil there was none; the land was incapable of producing anything other than a poor yield of hay, flax or hemp, and the meadows flooded regularly. Ruinous was the only word to come to mind as the mean houses came into view. The village looked run down, grim with deprivation, and so did my manor.

      No surprise then that Hugh had sold his soldiering skills. Not that life as a soldier was anything but his first preference. If it was a choice of riding off to war or tilling the land, farming came a long way second, even if it meant being absent from me for most of our short married life. I considered, not for the first time, how I had managed to conceive three children. But I had, and they were my blessing.

      For a moment the hall was silent except from the drip of water into a wooden bucket and the distant irritable bark of a dog. Then a rush of feet, followed by an authoritarian voice. I opened my arms, and into them fell Margaret, growing awkwardly at six years, and Thomas who at four had more noisy energy than he could control. I kissed Margaret, as self-contained as Blanche, and hugged Thomas until he squirmed for release. Hugh’s heir. Hugh’s pride and joy and hope for the future.

      And there was Agnes Bonsergeant, my own nurse, who had come with me to Kettlethorpe, and did not mince her words as she clasped her hands on my shoulders and kissed my cheeks.

      ‘I thought we might not see you for a little while yet. You were not offered a position with the new Duchess then?’

      ‘No.’ Stripping off my gloves enabled me to hide my expression.

      ‘Why not?’

      I sighed silently, hoping she did not notice. ‘The Duke was busy. The Prince is ill, the King fading.’

      ‘Nothing new in that. I thought that he might have valued your service—his wife carrying a child and all. Nothing like a mother with healthy children to give good advice. I’d have snapped you up.’

      ‘So I hoped. Her own childhood nurse attends her. And her sister travels with her. Why would she need more?’

      I did not want to answer any more questions.

      ‘Still…you look pale, Katherine.’

      ‘Tired, that’s all,’ I admitted, allowing Margaret to pull me into the private chamber.

      ‘And Blanche? How is my little Blanche?’ Agnes asked, collecting up Thomas with an experienced arm.

      ‘Well. They are all well. Lady Alice sends her best wishes to you and wishes a fine husband on you.’ I sank onto a settle by the fire. ‘It’s good to be home.’

      Agnes grunted at the suggestion of a husband, fine or otherwise. ‘We have some problems.’

      I raised my brows. ‘Some wine first, I think. Then the bad news.’

      And while I drank, Agnes told me of the leaking roof, the pest that had affected the chickens, the poor quality wood, and lack of it, set aside for burning. We were short of ale, the last delivery being sour. A request that the road over towards Coleby should be improved at my expense—the list went on.

      ‘It’s not good,’ I said.

      ‘Nor is this place good for your health. Or the children’s. You could go into Lincoln. Hire a house there for the winter.’

      ‘I have no money to be spent on hiring houses. If I have no money to mend the roof, or pay to bring Hugh’s body home, I have no right to squander what I have where it is not necessary.’ I watched Thomas. We had given him a wooden sword for a New Year gift, which he wielded with dangerous vigour. Would he choose to be a soldier like Hugh? ‘How would I forgive myself if I had nothing to give Thomas but a worn-down inheritance, and me sitting in luxury in Lincoln?’

      ‘Hardly СКАЧАТЬ