by Wendy Bayne
There was a muffled chuckle, “Sorry, I should have said that it’s always locked. No one on my side has a key. What about yours?”
It was odd to be talking so casually to someone that I couldn’t see and didn’t know. I hadn’t led a sheltered life in Northumberland, but I rarely had the opportunity to socialize with anyone of my own class.
The voice spoke again, “Hello? Are you still there?”
I furrowed my brow studying the locked gate and the wall. I suppose I could get a hand hold on the espalier but whether it would hold my weight was a concern; even then my skirts might get caught. I was good at climbing trees; however, an espalier was another matter. So, I stood there considering what to do as I examined the barrier.
The voice called out again this time, a bit plaintive and sad, “I say there Hello? Are you still there?” Before I could speak he answered his own question. “Well, of course not, you dolt! She’s gone, and you probably scared her away.” The gate rattled as if it had been kicked. I giggled, and he said, “I heard that! So, you are still there. Look, I’m sincerely sorry of if I put you off. It must be very disconcerting to have someone speak to you through a gate, especially with you being new here and all.” He chuckled, the idiot chuckled. Then he began to ramble. “I talk to your under-gardener Jones sometimes. He could vouch for me being sane. Though we’ve never met face to face because of the gate, you see, and he tends to keep the conversation to gardening. Actually, he usually just says yes sir and no sir, Jones is not much of a conversationalist, but he seems a good chap. Did you know that he’s very earnest about lemons and oranges? He’s very particular about their soil.”
I needed to see this person so taking a hand hold I started to climb the espalier, surprisingly it was holding my weight just fine. His voice called out to me a bit clearer as I was reaching for the top, “Ah, miss, what are you doing, are you alright? What’s that noise?”
I had just pulled myself up onto the top of the wall as he’d finished talking. Looking down, I saw a boy with a mass of blond curls leaning his ear against the gate and smiled, “Hello there?”
He jumped at the sound of my voice and leaning back to look up at me, he lost his balance and fell onto his back, uttering, “Oomph”. He tipped his head to look up. “Oh! Hello there!”
As I gazed down on him he got to his feet, brushing off his breeches and coat. He had tousled curly blond hair and very vivid blue eyes that dominated a tanned face that he could never have acquired in England unless he worked in the fields or spent considerable time at sea. I was puzzled when he didn’t introduce himself, so I asked, “Who are you?”
He looked me over and smirked. “I might ask you the same? Mr Turner has never had any ladies as guests or otherwise at his home. So how do you come to be there?”
I felt panic for a few seconds. What should I say? Could I tell him the truth? Wasn’t that what we were here for, to let people know who we were? I decided he was being rude, so I snapped back! “I’m Clarissa Turner. Colin Turner is my father.”
He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, finally surrendering himself to laughter. “Monk Turner is your father!” He spoke every word slowly and distinctly like it gave him immense pleasure.
“What do you mean by Monk Turner?” I was irritated that he might be calling my father a scurrilous name.
“Oh, it’s just a nickname I gave him. My sister has been mooning over him since we moved here. Though he is exceptionally polite to all the ladies, he has never given her or any other a second look. Even father wonders at his celibacy. The word is that he doesn’t go to bawdy houses nor show a preference for women or boys.”
I frowned, balling up my fists till my nails bit into my palms. I was angry with him for talking like that about my father but before I could say anything, he continued, “Please tell me that your mother is still alive and living with you. This is going to be so rich. Maybe for once at dinner we won’t have to listen to my mother’s recitation of Colin Turner’s better qualities.”
I was balanced on top of the wall and while it was wide enough to accommodate me it was not very comfortable. There was no way for me to get down on his side, so I shifted from side to side pulling my skirts up under me for some padding. Just as I started to do so he reached up as if to steady me by grabbing at my leg. I quickly moved my feet out of his reach “No, I’m fine thank you.” He pulled back looking slightly annoyed as I settled myself. “To answer your question, yes, my mother is alive, and she is here with Father and me.”
He clapped his hands together and smiled. “Delicious!”
“You know my name, sir, but I don’t know yours.” I waited for him to answer me.
He stepped back to where I could see him better and bowed. “Your pardon, Miss Turner, my name is Ramsey Clarke. Late of Jamaica in the West Indies and now a resident of this glorious city; at least until I am sent off to Oxford next term.” Now that I could see him better he appeared taller and older than I had first thought, perhaps eighteen or more. He had one of those faces that promised to be boyish for a good many years. Still blushing at my intense regard, he continued, “Can I assume then that Mr Turner is newly married?”
He was digging for information. I was annoyed by his regard and his questions and prepared myself to climb down from my perch, leaving him to his own devices. “Mr Clarke, you are impertinent! My mother and father have been married for seventeen years. Mother and I have resided in the country while my father was in France during the war and afterwards because his business often took him away for extended periods. I suggest that you call on my parents if you desire any further information for your amusement.” With that I turned and jumped down from my perch. My landing was jarring and none too graceful, but no one was around to see me. I stood up and heard laughter coming from the other side of the wall. I clenched my fists again and almost stamped my foot. Then called out, “Mr Clarke, you are no gentleman. Good day to you, sir!”
The laughter continued but he managed to squeak out, “It has been a pleasure, Miss Turner, and I hope to see you again soon.”
I retrieved my sketch pad and retreated to my room without anyone witnessing my fury and flung myself into the seat by the window, grabbing a book and furiously thumbing the pages as I looked out at the part of the Clarke’s garden within my view. Ramsey was still there, seated on a bench with a book in his lap. I couldn’t tell if he was asleep or staring at the gate. He infuriated me because he had implied that I was illegitimate. Then I only hoped that I hadn’t unravelled any of my aunt’s plans for our introduction into the Beau Monde. I knew enough about society that gossip often travels faster than the truth, so I decided that I had better tell my mother about my encounter. I put the book down and looked out the window once again to find that Mr Clarke had turned and appeared to be looking right at my window as if he had seen me stand up. I tossed the book onto the chaise and raced into the hallway bent on locating my mother as quickly as possible. Instead I ran straight into Aunt Mary.
Aunt Mary grabbed my arm and looked studiously over her spectacles at me, “Clarissa Turner! Whatever is the matter with you, girl?”
I was still stinging from Ramsey’s inference, so I snapped, “I have to find mother or father. I might have made a mess of things after speaking to our neighbour, Ramsey Clarke.”
Aunt Mary looked towards my open door. “Good heavens, child, how did you meet him?” Then she eyed my dirty hands and a grass stain on the hem of my dress. “Perhaps you should tell me what you have been up to and who this Ramsey Clarke is while you wash your hands and change your gown.”
We entered my room and I pointed towards the window. “He may still be there sitting in the garden next door. He lives there with his parents and sister.”
She moved to look out the window saying as she walked towards it, “I would not normally stoop to spying on our neighbours but under the circumstances…” She pulled back the curtain then dropped it immediately. “What an impertinent young man, he was
looking right at me and saluted!” I clapped my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. She glared at me then at the window. “Hurry up, Clarissa, don’t dawdle. I would like to speak with Mr Spencer before he leaves.”
“But I have to tell mother about Ramsey first.”
“Your mother is resting.” I must have looked disappointed because she added in a hushed tone. “I’ll take you to your father, so we can both tell him about that young miscreant.” I quickly washed my hands and changed my gown with her help. When we reached my father’s study, the door was just opening, and Mr Spencer was taking his leave. He saw Aunt Mary and smiled. She took a step forward, laying her hand on his arm, “Arthur, if I could have a word with you in private please?” then she motioned to the library door across the hall. He nodded and they both left me standing in the hallway.
Well, so much for Aunt Mary helping me. I stuck my head around the door of Father’s study and found him sitting at his desk. He appeared to be lost in thought but when he caught sight of me, he motioned me in. “Lissa, my dear, I’m sorry to have left you to entertain yourself especially with all that’s happened.”
“Actually, Father…” Then I changed my mind in mid-sentence as to what I was going to say and instead asked, “May I call you papa? It just seems, well, shorter and less formal.”
He smiled and chuckled. “Yes, of course, you can, my dear. You may call me whatever you’re most comfortable with.” A feeling of warmth spread through me. I really did have a father who cared about me and perhaps even loved me. “Is there something else on your mind?”
I was wool gathering about having a father when he had asked me the question and was now patiently waiting for my answer. I shook myself trying to think, “Oh yes…well, umm, it’s about our neighbours. I may have made a hash of things…but he just made me so angry.”
He looked puzzled. “The Clarkes or the Summers?”
I cupped my hands in front of me, staring at my feet. Years of not making eye contact with the General had trained me for awkward situations. “Ah the Clarkes—I met Ramsey Clarke today by accident. I was afraid that by my talking to him I might have spoiled your plans for introducing Mother and I to society. If I have, then I’m so sorry, Father.” I was terrified to look up and see his disappointment.
I heard a snort, then a chuckle followed with a full out laugh. “So, you met that rapscallion, did you? May I ask how this accident occurred? Or is it safe to assume that it involved your cat-like climbing abilities?” My head popped up. He was looking right at me with affectionate humour. “Oh, Lissa, my precious girl, come here.”
He moved to a chair in front of his desk and motioned for me to take the one opposite him. I took several deep breaths while he tried to control his mirth. Then I told him about my encounter. He never interrupted me and continued to smile. When I finished, he said, “Well, it seems that we shall have to invite the Clarkes to dine with us. I had best warn your mama and Lady Alford to expect a call from Mrs Clarke and her daughter before too long. That should be a very interesting encounter.” He chuckled again. “Perhaps I shall contrive to be there to witness your mother dealing with Miss Clarke’s heartbreak.”
I was astonished. “You know about his sister’s infatuation?”
He chuckled again. “Yes, I have been aware of it for some time. Charity, the poor child, is not very subtle, and it has taken considerable skill to avoid her and her mother at social gatherings. It will be refreshing to have your mother here to act as my shield.” I was rather perplexed by his statement and he noticed. He pulled at his ear looking rather abashed. “Lissa, my business has required me to do some things that I’m not particularly proud of but please believe me when I say that I have never been unfaithful to your mother and I would never do anything to hurt her. You and she are my life.”
I stood up and hugged him. “Oh Papa, I know that. Ramsey told me that you were never anything but polite to his sister just as you would be to any lady. He even called you Monk Turner.” Father looked surprised. “He can’t wait to see his mother’s reaction at dinner this evening when he tells her that you’re married.”
Father smirked. “I’m sure Ramsey will love telling them, it’s rather nice of him to pave the way for us and by tomorrow evening everyone within two miles will know about you and your mother. Poor Samuel will hate to miss the excitement…he does love a good melodrama.”
Suddenly I heard my mother’s voice from behind me, “Lissa, you may have done us a great service.” I looked over my shoulder to see Mother standing in the doorway. She was looking at both of us with a delicate smile and one arched brow as she addressed my father. “So, my love, who is this young lady that I am to shield you from…should I be worried?”
Mother had her arms crossed but she continued to smile at him. She looked beautiful standing there with the sun shining on her golden hair and her blue eyes flashing with amusement; she was radiant. I smoothed my skirts as my father took her in his arms and gave her a lingering kiss. Then they walked hand in hand to the settee. It still seemed strange to me that my sister was now my mother and that Mr Turner was my father, yet I couldn’t deny our relationship. I was the female embodiment of father. Perhaps that was how my mother had survived being separated from him, she could look at me and see him.
Father took his time explaining to Mama what I had done. She laughed while smiling at me. “Then we’ll need to prepare ourselves for tomorrow. Colin, you need to tell us as much as you can about the Clarkes; especially since they seem to know a great deal about you already. But before you start would you be a dear and ring for Allan, I would love some tea.”
“That would be delightful.” Aunt Mary had just stuck her head around the door. “In fact, I’ve already asked Mr Allan to bring it here.” Father stood and motioned for her to come sit by the hearth in a chair opposite mama and papa. My father pulled me down to sit beside him and Mama as Aunt Mary looked over her spectacles at him and smiled.
While we waited for the tea, Father asked, “How is Samuel?”
Aunt Mary threw up her hands. “How do you suppose he would be, he’s impossible! I don’t see how we’re going to keep him in bed without tying him to it. Dalton certainly has his hands full.” Her lips puckered like she had tasted something bitter then she flicked an imaginary piece of lint from her skirt. “Colin, do you think Richards could give him a hand?”
“I’m sorry Lady Alford but Richards is in Cornwall.”
Aunt Mary huffed. “Whatever for? We’re about to launch your family into society and you have no valet!”
Mama chuckled. “It’s hardly a disaster, Auntie. I’m sure we can manage without Richards for a time. When do expect him back, Colin?”
Father had been watching my mother, but he turned to answer Aunt Mary. “Never fear, Lady Alford, I shall not disappoint you. I’ve been used to dressing myself on many occasions and have never fallen short of the mark yet. But Richards should arrive here in a few days, he’s been conducting some business for me to which his particular talents are better suited than mine.”
Aunt Mary looked incredulous. “Preposterous, your valet is conducting business for you! What business could he possibly be better suited to than you?”
Father shifted his position and I quietly slid off the settee onto the floor to lean against his leg. Aunt Mary waved at me. “Heavens, Clarissa, get up! You cannot sit on the floor like a child.” But before Father could answer her, Lettie arrived with the tea tray loaded down with scones, iced cakes and my favourite seed cake. Setting it down on the table in front of us she backed up, “Will that be all, sir, I mean, ma’am?”
Mother smiled. “Yes, Lettie, that will be all. Thank you very much and would you please tell cook that her seed cake looks delicious.”
Lettie nodded. “Yes, ma’am, thank you, ma’am.” She turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Aunt Mary watched the door close then turned to look at Father “She’s very handsome but seems a bit out of pla
ce as a servant. Wherever did you find her, Colin?”
Papa cleared his throat. “Yes, well, she’s Dalton’s sister.” He looked uncomfortable as she stared at him.
“Yes, I’d noticed the family resemblance.” She left that hanging there waiting for a response to her original question. She now had my mother’s interest piqued who had turned to look at him intently.
Papa’s facial expression changed as he gazed at her with pleading eyes, he obviously didn’t want to discuss Lettie. She reached out patting his hand, but I could see that she wasn’t about to relent even though she was smiling. She turned back to pour the tea and asked, “Yes, my dear, wherever did you find her?”
He let out an irritated huff, crossing his long legs. He took a sip of tea after accepting a cup from her outstretched hand. It appeared to be too hot for his taste as he set the cup back down. Once we all had our tea, he clasped his hands in a semblance of pray, leaning forward resigned to finally answering. “Lady Alford, you might have guessed that my staff do not come to me through the usual channels of employment. They all have special talents over and above the positions that they occupy in this house.”
Aunt Mary looked at him suspiciously, “What exactly does that mean, Colin?”
He ran his hand through his hair and sat back, taking mama’s hand. “I suppose I should start at the beginning. When I left for France, I met an older gentleman onboard ship who worked directly for the Crown though I didn’t find out in what capacity until much later. Sir Thomas Wiseman is his name and as it turned out he is the master of spies for his Majesty. It had been my intention that once I arrived on the continent to join a regiment, any regiment would have suited me since they all seem to be in desperate need of men. Being a gentleman, I had hoped to earn a battlefield commission since my father had refused to purchase one for me. He was dead set against me going to France in the first place since I’m his only son and heir and the only male heir to my mother’s father. My only recourse was to join as a volunteer. To make a long story short by the time we reached Brussels Sir Thomas had convinced me that with my excellent grasp of languages, my status as a gentleman from an old respected family and my desire to serve my country made me an ideal candidate to be one of his assistants, or agents if you like. It turned out that my knowledge of languages was not the only thing that he found shall we say useful. I was accepted into society readily because of my pedigree, despite the lack of title, it won me invitations and favours that Sir Thomas being a knighted commoner could not hope to command. Also, my youthful exuberance and ability to play act as he called it made it possible for me to go about with the rougher classes with minimal assistance. A brief time later I recruited Samuel and we became his agents in Brussels. It was during those early years of service to Sir Thomas that I met Dalton and his sister. They were petty thieves that had accompanied the army across the channel. Dalton had apprenticed as a tailor but wasn’t able to make enough money to support him and his sister. He had hoped to find a better life for himself and Lettie in the army, but he soon found that life as a dragoon was not any better than his life in England and his sister was attracting far too much of the wrong kind of attention from the officers utilizing her services as a laundress. So, he deserted taking her with him to live off the land and the pickings of war.”