Daughters of England

by Philippa Carr

  Christobel said: “I must say I am ready for bed.”

  “They will have taken your baggage up. But you won’t want to unpack tonight, I know. I hope you can lay your hands on what you need. If not, perhaps I can help.”

  “I shall just take out a few night things. I believe I can manage that. Can you, Kate?”

  “Oh yes, I am sure I can.”

  “Then,” said Mistress Longton, “let me light you to bed.”

  I felt mildly bewildered. There was so much I wanted to discover about Luke and Master Roger Camden, and I was too excited for sleep, but it was true I was physically exhausted, and I was sure Mistress Longton was right to send us off to bed. I had an idea that she was usually right.

  There was a ewer and basin in the room, so I was able to wash away a little of the grime of the journey. I found the few things I should need and put on my nightgown and got into bed.

  Through the latticed window the light of a half moon penetrated the room. The oak beams of the ceiling were thick and the ceiling sloped a little, as did the floor. The bed was a four-poster, and I imagined it had stood there for all of a hundred years. There were a few chairs and a big oak chest, and the table on which stood the basin and ewer.

  So this was my home. How different from Maggie’s house! I felt a twinge of nostalgia. It was different also from what I had expected, and to be confronted with strangers when I had been expecting my father was a little disconcerting.

  There was a light tap on my door.

  “Come in,” I said, and as I had expected Christobel entered.

  “Not asleep?” she said. “I thought you would not be. I’m very tired, but I can’t sleep either. I keep feeling as though I’m jolting along in that coach. Kate, you seemed a bit bewildered. I should have told you what I knew about this place we are coming to.”

  “Did you know the young man would be here?”

  “Oh yes, Luke has been here for several years.”

  “Who is he?”

  She was silent for a while. Then she said: “Perhaps you are too young to know of these matters. But you know something, do you not, so you should know the rest. A little knowledge can be more confusing than no knowledge at all.”

  “Please tell me, Christobel.”

  “It is late tonight. You need to sleep.”

  “I do not think I can. It is all so strange…so different. I thought I was going to my father’s house.”

  “Well, you have. The Dower House belongs to him.”

  “But he is not here.”

  “No, of course not. He will be at Rosslyn Manor.”

  “Where is that?”

  “On this estate. It is a large property in this neighborhood and the Manor is about a mile away.”

  “And my father lives there, and I am to live in the Dower House?”

  “It seems a reasonable plan. It might be that it would not be quite de rigueur to have you living in the house with Lady Rosslyn.”

  “Lady Rosslyn?”

  “There is naturally a Lady Rosslyn.”

  “His wife. Of course. I…see.”

  “There is much that you do not see. They have been married for about twenty years, I believe.”

  “And Luke? Who is Luke?”

  “Another such as you are. He is Lord Rosslyn’s son, as you are his daughter.”

  “So he is my brother?”

  “Half-brother, I believe it is called.”

  “And he lives in the Dower House?”

  She nodded. “Lord Rosslyn is what is known as a somewhat eccentric gentleman, and eccentric gentlemen do strange things.”

  “What strange things?”

  “Like bringing a family, which society would say he should never have had, to live at the Dower House.”

  “You mean me…”

  “You and Luke. I suppose one might have been brought into a family in such a way, but two…and openly…well, that is Lord Rosslyn.”

  “So you think I should not have come?”

  “Indeed I do not. I think you should be here. It is due to you. I am merely saying that it takes an eccentric gentleman to act in such a way. Shall we talk in the morning?”

  “I shall not sleep. Shall you? More than anything I want to know about the people here.”

  “I understand. It is to be your home. So it is natural that you will want to know, and you will sleep the better for knowing. I think you have been very fortunate to come here and live as your father’s daughter should. Mind you, it is not as though Lady Rosslyn was your mother, but it is the next best thing. The Rosslyns are a proud family. They have been in possession of Rosslyn Manor since the days of the first Henry, the son of the Conqueror, and that is a very long time ago. There have been Rosslyns at the Manor for five hundred years and the line is unbroken…until now. This is regarded as a great tragedy. Kate, you have lived in London, close to the theatrical world. I think that has made you old for your years. One forgets how young you are. But there are times when I feel I should not be speaking of these matters to you.”

  “Oh, please, do not say that, Christobel. I want to know. I have to know.”

  “You are right. It is best for you to understand these things, even if…oh well, no matter. The truth is that the Rosslyn heirs have always, through the centuries, had their wives and husbands chosen for them. They are proud of their family. They must be of the right kind, you understand. Many men and women marry for love. Not the Rosslyns. They have their lovers, but not perhaps in marriage. The right stock is necessary and they will tell you it has worked well through the ages, until now. The Rosslyns have prospered because they are such perfect beings.” She laughed aloud. “It was different with the Carews, my family. We have had some disreputable characters in our family. And it has not lasted in the same way as the Rosslyns. Other names have crept in. Cousins have inherited. And now this fate has fallen on the Rosslyns.”

  She laughed. “You will say, ‘What does it matter?’ But it does matter to them. I cannot help it, Kate, it amuses me, but it is not amusing to Lord Rosslyn—nor to Lady Rosslyn. She is the one at fault. She has betrayed the Rosslyns. And in what way? Because she cannot bear a child.”

  “It is not her fault.”

  “Indeed not, poor lady. I’ll warrant she has prayed till she is hoarse, and perverse Heaven has turned its back on her. The fault can only lie in her, for look, there is Master Luke, a proof of Rosslyn manhood—and little Mistress Kate, another—and no doubt others of whom we have not yet heard.”

  “What are you telling me, Christobel?”

  “I am half asleep. I talk without thinking. I shall see my family tomorrow and I am envious, I suppose. Why should everything have gone wrong for us and the Rosslyns have so much?”

  “You were telling me of a tragedy which has befallen them.”

  “Kate, my family has lost a large part of our estate…it is tottering to ruin and there are the Rosslyns, established in what must be one of the most flourishing estates in the country, bemoaning their sad fate because there is no legitimate heir to leave the place to. My lord will have to be dead before that happens, in any case.”

  “So this tragedy is simply that Lord Rosslyn’s wife cannot have any children to leave the estate to.”

  “That is so. This wonderful, prosperous place will have to go to someone—well, not exactly outside the family, but on the distant edge of it, a distant relative, a remote cousin, usually a poor relation. Rosslyn, despairing of getting a family through the conventional channels, is bringing those obtained in others to live close to his home. Now, is that for his own satisfaction, because he loves his illegitimate offspring, or is it to bring home to his wife how much she has failed him?”

  I was silent. I looked at Christobel. Her eyes looked a little glazed. I thought: She is very, very tired.

  “Christobel, you ought to go back to your bed.”

  “So I should,” she said, but she did not move from her position on mine.

  She went on, as
though to herself: “Of course, he might have a conscience. He might think he should care for these children of his. I’ll swear these are not the only ones. Perhaps we shall have a little colony of them here. He and Lady R. are scarcely on speaking terms, so they say. She is very angry about this Dower House family.”

  “But I have only just come.”

  “That will not please her. I was talking of Luke. He has been here for a number of years. He must be about seventeen or eighteen years old now. He came here when he was ten. Of course, he is a boy…a double reproach.” She yawned. “Well, you will learn all about it, very soon. I have just given you a little insight.”

  “You are so tired, Christobel. We both are.”

  She stood up rather unsteadily. She leaned forward and, taking my face in her hands, kissed me.

  “You are a dear girl, Kate,” she said. “I am very fond of you. You will adjust yourself, I know. There will be difficulties, but I am sure it is the best way for you. Good night.”

  She left me less prepared for sleep than I had been before her coming.

  She was very unlike herself. I was sure she had drunk too much of that mulled wine. It had been so warm and comforting, and we were both very, very tired.

  When I was dressed next morning and knocked at her door she called “Come in,” in quite a brisk voice.

  She was up and looked comparatively fresh.

  “It seems you have slept well after all,” I said.

  “After a while. I was so exhausted. I am afraid I drank a little too much of that wine last night. It was so soothing and warming. I think I talked a great deal.” She frowned and looked at me questioningly.

  “It was just about the people here…all that I had to know.”

  She grimaced. “Well, it is rather an unusual arrangement. But quite rational, when you come to think of it.”

  “What shall we do today?”

  “Settle in. When your father appears he will no doubt give his instructions. We shall certainly continue with lessons, for you are young yet, my dear. But today I want to see my family. They will have heard we have arrived, I am sure. You would be surprised how fast news travels here. Of course Luke will want to get to know you and he’ll show you round—he loves this place. But I do want you to meet my family. They will be very eager to meet you. I’ve told them about you, of course.”

  “You have not told me about them.”

  “It will be better for you to make your own judgments.”

  “Judgments?”

  “Oh, just a manner of speaking. Well, I shall go over to Featherston Manor this morning. It is not very far—on the edge of the Rosslyn estate, but that is very big. I should like to take you with me.”

  “And I should love to come.”

  “Well, why not? As long as you have not had a summons to await the coming of his lordship, I think it would be an excellent idea. Come along, let us go down and spy out the land.”

  In the dining room Mistress Longton was seated at the table.

  She greeted us warmly and trusted we had slept well. We assured her that we had after a while, and we sat down to partake of meat pie and ale which a servant put before us.

  “I dare swear you will not be at your lessons this morning,” said Mistress Longton. “You will need to recover from your journey and to see something of this place.”

  “I was planning to see my family this morning,” said Christobel.

  “But of course. It is long since they have seen you and they have doubtless heard you are here, so will be expecting you. One of the men was on some business near there. He is bound to have seen someone from the Manor and he would have passed on the news.”

  “I was telling Kate how fast news travels even here.”

  “It’s true. You must certainly go and see them.”

  “They want to meet Kate.”

  “Well, why not take her with you? I am sure you will find suitable mounts in the stables.”

  Christobel looked at me and nodded. “That will be pleasant, will it not, Kate?”

  “I should enjoy it very much.”

  Christobel said: “They will know at Rosslyn Manor that we are here.”

  “I believe that Lord Rosslyn is not there at this time,” Mistress Longton said.

  Christobel looked relieved. “Well then,” she said, “we will go and visit my home this morning, Kate.”

  One of the grooms found what he thought to be suitable horses for us and we set out. I was something of a novice and a very mild-mannered steed had been found for me. She was not so young, we were told, but was good for hacking round the lanes, too lazy to get up to tricks…just the sort to suit a beginner at the game. The fact was, it was only since my mother had died that I had been given riding lessons. Christobel and I had gone off to stables in the village of Kensington where I had taken some lessons, so although I was not a stranger to horses, I was by no means a practiced horsewoman. Christobel said that would soon change now we were in the country.

  “We’ll take it very slowly,” she went on, “and trust your Lively Lady will not live up to her name, which is hardly likely. I think it must have been given to her in her extreme youth and that was quite a number of years ago.”

  Rosslyn Manor lay before us. It was most impressive, with that look of rock-like endurance which was a feature of its period. Its round arches and cylindrical columns looked as though they could stand another five hundred years without strain.

  I said: “It is very grand. I am not surprised the Rosslyns are proud of it and want to keep it.”

  “Some people set great store by such things, and the Rosslyns apparently do.”

  I thought how strange it was to belong—even in a furtive sort of way—to such a family. I was reminded of cozy evenings in Maggie’s parlor, sitting round the fire with my mother and Maggie, and Martha’s coming in with Jane. I felt another of those sudden waves of nostalgia which pierced the excitement of my new experiences and would not be dismissed.

  “You will find Featherston Manor far less grand,” Christobel said. “Rosslyn Manor is the big house round here. Featherston would have been considered very pleasant if Rosslyn were not there to remind us how insignificant we really are.”

  We rode on for some way. “This is our land now,” Christobel informed me.

  We came out into a lane. There was an almost derelict house before us and I heard a voice and realized that men were working there.

  They glanced at us and one of them separated himself from the rest and cried out: “Chris!”

  Then he ran towards us and, putting his hands on Christobel’s horse, laughed up at her.

  He was not exactly handsome, but I thought he had one of the pleasantest faces I had ever seen.

  He was laughing, showing good strong teeth, and his thick hair was in disorder. There was a smudge of dirt on his forehead; his eyes were light blue, and I think it was the expression of sheer delight which made him so attractive. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows.

  “Kirk!” cried Christobel. “Oh, it is so good to see you.”

  “I heard you were coming but did not know you had arrived.”

  “This is my brother, Kirkwell,” Christobel told me. “And this is Kate, Mistress Kate Standish.”

  He had turned his smile on me. “Ah, so at last we meet. I must tell you that I have heard a great deal about you.”

  I felt at a disadvantage. Christobel had never told me about him.

  “And so you have come to the Dower House. Well then, we shall be neighbors. I hope you will be very happy here. My sister is a good governess—so she tells me.”

  “Kirk, I have told you nothing of the sort! It is Kate who is the good pupil.”

  “No, no,” I said. “It is really Christobel who is the good governess.”

  “It seems to me a very happy state of affairs when you can both speak so highly of each other. Let us say you are both very good. Are you going to the house, Chris?”

  “Y
es. I did not know I would meet you here.”

  “I am working on this cottage. It’s been neglected too long.”

  “Is our father well?”

  There was a faint pause. “He is as ever,” said Kirkwell. “He will be overjoyed to see you…and Mistress Kate. We were not sure when you would arrive.”

  “It’s good to be here, Kirk.”

  “It seems odd. You here…and not with the family.”

  “Yes…but I nearly am. I am home, really.”

  “You were so far away in London.” He looked at me. “Are you going to enjoy the country, do you think, Mistress Kate?”

  “It has all been very pleasant so far.”

  “Are you going home now?” said Kirk, turning to his sister. “I’ll come with you. Wait just a moment.”

  He left us and went back to the cottage where he had been working.

  “You did not tell me you have a brother,” I said to Christobel.

  “Did I not?” she said.

  In fact, I thought, she told me very little. I believe now it was because she had come to us through my father and one of the conditions of her employment was that my mother should not know this. So it must have seemed wise to say as little as possible about herself. And now I was learning a great deal in a very short time.

  Kirkwell had rejoined us. He was riding a strong-looking black horse.

  “This is my home, Kate,” said Christobel as a house came into sight.

  I thought it was charming—more cozy than the great Norman fortress which was Rosslyn Manor. Featherston Manor was of red brick. There was a gatehouse and I was enchanted by the gables and turrets.

  We alighted. Kirkwell said: “I’ll take the horses. There’s only old Tom in the stables nowadays with young Arthur to help him.”

  “Of course,” said Christobel. “We’ll go in. Father will be in his study, I suppose.”

  “I dare say.”

  We went into the hall. I was aware that it was rather shabby. Perhaps I noticed that after the perfection of the Dower House; and Martha had scrupulously attended to household chores in Maggie’s house.