Bid squealed and buried her face in her apron. Ned just looked bewildered.
“Let’s have some hot buttered ale,” I suggested. “It will stop us taking cold and we—”
I was interrupted by a dreadful screeching and wailing from outside.
Bid’s eyes became boiled eggs again. “The keeper!” she shrieked.
“No! It’s a woman’s voice!” I opened the front door and gasped. “It’s Lady Anne and Juliana!”
They must have seen me silhouetted against the candlelight.
“Susannah! Let us in!” they cried.
Behind me, Bid practically threw Ned up the stairs.
The two women were drenched, their hair unpinned and their curls straggling. Bid and I dragged their cloaks off and pulled them to the kitchen fire. I rubbed Lady Anne’s hands, to bring some life into them.
“Oh, cousin,” she cried. “We were robbed!”
“Robbed?”
“Yes. By a highwayman!”
“A highwayman?”
“Yes, a highwayman,” she snapped. Distressed as she was, she was still capable of being annoyed by me repeating her words.
Juliana had calmed down considerably and, by means of pointing and screeching, succeeded in letting Bid know that she was to remove poor Jack. Then she took over the story. They had been riding back from their friends, in good light, when the sky began to darken as the storm approached. The highwayman had been waiting in a group of no more than four or five trees…
“But he was so still, we never saw him,” said Juliana.
He held them up at pistol-point and when he realized they had no money on them, he took the only ring Lady Anne was wearing, and both their necklaces.
Lady Anne burst into fresh sobs. “He s-said that as the weather was bad, he would leave us our c-clothes—”
Juliana wailed and buried her head in her damp lap.
“But he would take our mounts.” Lady Anne shook her head, scattering droplets over me. “Two horses gone, cousin! Two! Oh, what will your father say?”
I thought it no great loss, considering they still had their lives, and said so. To my surprise both women turned on me.
“Horses do not grow on trees!”
“They cost money!”
“We cannot replace two horses just like that!” This, with a snap of Juliana’s long, skinny fingers.
I bit back what I was longing to say, which was something like: Do not think that because I am poor I am nothing and that you can speak to me as you would a stable boy and that I do not have feelings. Instead I spoke gently.
“Dear cousins, do not fret so. After all, you are not poor, and…”
I broke off, shocked at their reaction. They threw themselves into each other’s arms and sobbed anew.
I’d had enough. “The rain is easing,” I said. “I will fetch someone to take you back to the house.”
Bid was about to argue, but saw my glare. I didn’t want to stay there a moment longer.
Part way along the drive, I came upon Luke, who’d been sent by Sir Roger to meet the ladies and accompany them home. I explained what had happened and he, shocked, hurried back to fetch a carriage.
I had thought all the commotion over but, as I returned to the cottage, I was amazed to see all three women rush out of the front door and hurtle up the drive towards me.
“The keeper!” screamed Bid. “’Tis the keeper!”
“Gho-o-ost!” wailed Lady Anne. “We heard its footsteps! Upstairs!”
“Run!” screeched Juliana.
I ignored them and made to walk straight past. As I did, I grasped Bid’s wrist, spun her round and dragged her along behind me. She still shrieked, so I dug my nails into her wrist. “Hush, you stupid girl! You know perfectly well who it is!”
“Ow!” she cried, but she was quiet.
Lady Anne cried after me as I marched towards my front door. “Cousin! There’s a ghost in there!”
I stopped and turned, hands on my hips. “That is not news to me,” I said. “The keeper’s ghost and I are well acquainted with each other. Goodnight.”
And as I entered my cottage, I thought I heard a voice on the wind, crying, “Thank you, cousin.”
But I was probably mistaken!
June 22nd
We have set up an alarm system, for when Ned is in Keeper’s Cottage. Last night, under cover of darkness, Ned made a pen for Jack, in a corner of the front garden. It is bounded on two sides by hedge, and on the other two by planks of wood. Poor Ned had to nail the planks together with Bid and me over his shoulder, going, “Ssssh!” with every blow of the hammer!
The idea is that Jack will bark whenever someone comes near, and so give Ned time to run upstairs. It would be dreadful for him, and for Bid, if he were caught here. I also do not like to think what might happen to me.
June 25th
Godfrey has missed three lessons. I think he has had fear put into him by his mother and sister.
We have had much good food sent to us from the house. Pheasants, a piece of beef, some pork and two pies. It’s strange, because usually I get the feeling that I am sent only those cuts from the animal that the de Gracy family rejects. The food is most welcome, however, because a dreadful thing has happened to poor Ned. He is here now, and we have heard his tale.
On the morning after the day the ladies were held up by the highwayman, Ned left early, to return to the Stag’s Head. As he was leaving the boundaries of Gracy Park, he heard a cry and realized he’d been spotted by a group of men off for a day’s hunting. He thought little of it until he saw that one of the men was Sir Roger.
“How I ran!” said Ned. “I didn’t think I could, but I leapt a tree stump and ran through some bushes and splashed through a stream, but I couldn’t go no longer and Sir Roger caught me. He raised his whip. “Get orff my land!” he bawled. “I warned you! I don’t want oafs like you anywhere near my wife and children. Gorn! Gorn! Gettorff!”
Bid looked upset. “He hurt you bad?”
Ned nodded. “He whipped me till I reached the river. But Kate MacPhee took care of me. She’s a good woman, so don’t you say nothing against her, will you?”
I was puzzled. “Why should we do that?”
Ned hung his head. “Because I lost my job. Sykes MacPhee, he came to me this morning, and he seemed truly sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“He said he had no choice. He had to let me go. Mistress Susannah, I think it’s Sir Roger’s doing. He’s making sure I can’t get work anywhere near Gracy Park.”
I think so, too. I am so angry. But I can do nothing. Nothing except offer Ned shelter. The poor boy has nowhere else to go, so Bid and I will help him. She, the dear girl, offered for Ned to stay at her mother’s cottage, down in the village, but I would not get Bid’s family into trouble for all the world. Ned, himself, says that no one would dare harbour him, for fear of Sir Roger’s wrath. Well, I dare. My brother would not have Ned sleep under a hedge, not while he could give him shelter. Dominic is not here, so I am right that I do this.
Strange that Bid did not argue so much this time. Perhaps she sees the value of having a man, however lame, in the house. She certainly didn’t hear the keeper’s ghost last time Ned stayed – at least not after the two ladies’ adventure!
June 27th
Our alarm system has worked well all week, except for yesterday, when Godfrey came for a lesson. He brought a bone for my little dog. Jack knows Godfrey so well, and he must have smelled the bone. It completely took his attention and he forgot to bark.
Poor Godfrey has been unwell – spotty, in fact. His mother feared it was the measles, but the rash went quickly, and there was no fever. He didn’t mention his mother’s encounter with the so-called ghost, but he did say she didn’t want him to come any more. However, his father says he may – but only if our lessons are held with the front door wide open, and he is to run if anything disturbs him.
Since we had no warning of Godfrey’s arriva
l, poor Ned spent the next hour or so listening to him and me speaking French while he was huddled on the kitchen floor under a mountain of dirty clothes and bed sheets.
Bid said afterwards, “I was afraid he’d fall asleep and start snoring, so I had to keep kicking him!”
“I didn’t mind,” said Ned.
I am glad that those two get on well. I was afraid they would squabble, or that Bid would give him away to Sir Roger.
Oh horrors! I’ve just remembered. Tomorrow is the day I go to dine with the family and their rich neighbour. I shall hate it. And what am I to wear?
June 28th
Thank goodness Bid sews well. She has worked wonders, taking ribbon from this, and lace from that, and put a bow here and a tuck there, and I shall really look quite presentable at dinner. When she has finished and everything is pressed with the iron, she is to curl my hair. I want the curls so tight that they will not droop as I make my way to the house. Or should I saddle Moonbeam and ride? I think I will. Side-saddle, of course!
Much later
Well, goodness me, late though it is, I must describe the neighbour, Sir Staveney Vean. He is ancient – at least fifty – and the most peculiar shape: long and thin, but with a bulging, well-stuffed stomach, and a large head. It looks too big for his body. His arms and legs are long and thin, and if he had two more, he would resemble a giant grey ant. His clothes were rich, much richer than Sir Roger’s, and his periwig must have been in the latest London style, for he made Sir Roger look positively drab by comparison.
I curtsied on being introduced. He took my hand, kissed it with dry, cracked lips and muttered, “Dedoooo.” I gathered this was his version of “How do you do?”
I was placed opposite Sir Staveney at dinner, and had the pleasure of watching Juliana simpering. She seems to admire him greatly. I do not. I found his habit of staring at me most disconcerting, and I also found Lady Anne’s attentions quite peculiar. She seemed falsely bright, and frequently drew me into the conversation, which was most courteous of her, but when I had spoken, all talk from them suddenly ceased while Sir Staveney stared at me again.
Once, when there was a lull in the conversation, Sir Staveney leaned forward across the table. He is so long and thin that I quite thought he was after something on my plate – he could certainly have reached it. But no.
“So, me dear, all alone in the world, heh?”
“Not at all, sir,” I said. “I have a brother.”
“A brother?” he said in surprised tones. “Do you now? Then where is he? Demned if I can see him. Is he under the table, heh?” And he burst out laughing. I could clearly see his half-chewed beef, hooked on a side tooth. I would like to have knocked the tooth out.
Lady Anne broke in. “Dear cousin Susannah is staying with us while her brother ventures to the new world,” she said. “America!”
“Indeed.” Sir Staveney stared at me again. “Then, me dear, you are certainly alone in this world, what? Heh! Heh, heh!”
Juliana laughed so much I thought she might split the bones in her bodice. No, I hoped she would.
The time dragged, and I was mightily relieved when Lady Anne indicated that the ladies should go and sit comfortably while the men attended to their wine. It is a mark of how repulsive I found Sir Staveney that I was pleased to go and make small talk on a couch with Juliana while her mother stitched tapestry in extremely ugly colours. Juliana was in a quite teasing mood, which I found very off-putting.
“So, Susan, have you considered whom you might one day marry?”
“Of course not,” I replied. “I am too young and know few men. And I have no wish to marry. When my—”
“Yes, we know, cousin,” said Lady Anne. “We know you think to wait for your brother. But …” she put down her grey and brown wools and gazed into space, with one finger to her chin – a very false pose in my opinion. “I wonder if it might not be a good idea for you at least to consider the idea.”
“I thank you, but I will not,” I replied. Firm, but polite, I thought and felt rather pleased with myself. They, however, were not pleased with me. Juliana got up and flounced over to sit beside her mother. From that moment, they addressed scarcely a word to me.
Good.
I was relieved when Sir Staveney asked for his carriage. I was about to ask if Luke could bring Moonbeam to the door and if Bid could be fetched from the kitchen, where she’d spent the evening, when Sir Roger almost hustled Sir Staveney past me. Lady Anne pulled me back and kept hold of my wrist. Only when Sir Staveney had left was I able to request Moonbeam.
Is it mean of me to think that the de Gracy family don’t wish it to be known that they are boarding their cousin in a supposedly ghost-ridden old cottage?
Now we are home and we are all warm and comfortable. Bid already snuffles beside me, and Ned is snoring in her bedroom. I know he is, for I can hear him. He is stuffed full of good food, because Bid smuggled a whole apronful back with her. She walked alongside (she refuses to mount Moonbeam behind me) as I rode elegantly, side-saddle, with half a leg of mutton balanced on my pommel.
July 8th
Poor Ned goes quietly mad cooped up in the cottage all the time. He has mended everything that needs mending, and has taken to delving in the keeper’s hoard to see if he can make or mend anything there. I have asked him to remove anything that smells or that might smell, and Bid often has a great bonfire. Anything that will not burn and that is useless is being buried in a pit that Ned dug under cover of darkness. He is becoming quite a night owl. He has permission, whenever he wishes, to muffle Moonbeam’s hooves with rags (thank you, keeper!) and to walk him out of Gracy Park, where he may then have a fine ride!
July 11th
Jack is the best and cleverest dog in all the world.
Today Ned asked if he could bathe, as it is halfway through the year, and Bid immediately fetched the tub, and they began filling it between them.
“This will be the first warm bath I’ve had for a long time,” he said. “At the Stag’s Head, I used the horses’ trough to wash my hands. The water was full of strings of slime, so I had to keep going down to the river after work to wash the stink off.”
“Give me your clothes,” said Bid, “and I’ll wash them. You can wrap yourself in a blanket until they’re dry. It won’t be long. There’s a strong breeze.”
I had a bright idea. “Ned, I have some breeches you may borrow. They are Dominic’s. Bid, you know where they are, I’m sure. Fetch them for Ned, please.”
She went upstairs, clattered about and soon returned. “Mistress, is your brother a very small man?”
“No. Why?”
She held up the breeches.
Ned burst out laughing. Of course they were small. They were the ones I wore on that night when…
My eyes filled at the memory. “Put them away, Bid. Dominic was much younger when he wore those.”
She looked inside. “They look as if he stitched them himself.”
I ignored her. Soon Ned was enjoying a warm bath, his clothes were spread on the currant bushes near the kitchen door, and Bid and I were sipping cups of chocolate, which she had brought from the big house. Such luxury! Suddenly, Jack barked. I rushed to the window. “Lady Anne, Sir Roger, Juliana – they’re all coming!”
In seconds, Bid had dragged Ned’s clothes out of sight, Ned himself had run dripping and naked (I did not look) up the stairs, and I had thrust the chocolate cups behind the little log pile.
For once I was glad Juliana was with them, for it meant that the de Gracys wouldn’t enter the garden until I had removed Jack. This gave Bid and Ned precious extra moments.
Once they were in, Lady Anne cast her eyes around. “There is water on your stairs, cousin,” she said. “If you have a leak, we will be glad to send a man to fix it.”
“No, no, I thank you. It was only Bid, taking her bath.”
They glanced towards the closed kitchen door but, thankfully, did not enquire further.
I invited them
to sit down.
“We are enjoying a little exercise in the fresh air,” said Sir Roger, “and decided to call on you and make sure that all is well.”
“All is very well, I thank you.”
“Are you not lonely here, Susan?” asked Juliana.
I decided not to correct her misuse of my name. “Lonely? No! I have Bid, and Godfrey comes for his lessons, and I have Jack.” Goodness, was she going to offer to keep me company?
“But still, it is nice to have a companion, of one’s own class.”
Lord, I thought, please don’t say Juliana wants me for her companion.
Sir Roger humphed. “Errk, hmm. Of course, if you were to have a gentleman pay you his attentions, that would not go amiss, I presume?”
I smiled. I truly did not know what to say. What were they talking about?
We spoke a little more, then they got up to go. Lady Anne leaned forward to kiss the air beside my cheek. “Do come and drink tea with us tomorrow afternoon at three,” she said.
“Errk, hmm. Might be someone there who wishes to talk to you.”
“Goodbye, cousin.”
“Goodbye, Susan.”
“Errk. Yes.”
I closed the door behind them, freed Jack, called, “They’ve gone!” and collapsed on a stool. I wondered at the visit. All most peculiar.
And then, as if a hammer had descended on my head, it hit me. All the marriage talk. Sir Staveney. They were talking about Sir Staveney. He wishes to talk to me.
“No!” I cried.
Bid came rushing in. “What is it, Mistress?”
“Sir Staveney wants to marry me!”
Bid made a face. “Ugh, no! Oh, Mistress, no. Say it isn’t true!”
Ned put his head round the door. “I can’t come in. I only got this blanket round me. Did I hear right, Mistress?”
“I fear it’s so, Ned.”
“Bid told me all about Sir Staveney. You can’t marry him.”
“I’m afraid they might force me. I am in Sir Roger’s care.”
Highway Girl Page 6