The Silver Touch

by Rosalind Laker

  ‘The Thornes should be informed without delay.’

  ‘I’ll see to that. Jonathan is taking a look around the workshop at the moment. He can go.’ Then she corrected herself. ‘No, it will be better to fetch Joss and send him. He’ll be more sympathetic.’

  It did not take the three women long to get Sarah bathed and to comb out the pieces of weed that still clung to her beautiful hair after it was dried. Wearing one of Hester’s night-gowns, she was put to bed and Ann stayed with her when Hester and Letticia went downstairs.

  ‘What a day this has been,’ Letticia remarked wearily.

  ‘At least we have seen undeniable evidence that Sarah is not pregnant,’ Hester stated practically in heartfelt relief. ‘That was my first thought when I heard she had attempted to take her own life.’ She paused by the window and looked out. ‘I would have expected Mr and Mrs Thorne to be here by now.’

  Joss returned alone soon afterwards carrying a packed valise. ‘The Thornes aren’t coming,’ he announced. ‘I’ve brought some of Sarah’s clothes.’

  Peter, who had returned to the house, grabbed him by the arm. ‘What do you mean? Why aren’t they here?’

  Joss set down the valise. ‘They’ve shut their door on her. Apparently they were out with Sarah this morning when she ran away from them at the sound of the pipes and drums. They witnessed everything that took place and went back home to pack up her belongings. As far as they are concerned she is now on her own and must survive by whatever means are available to her.’

  ‘Surely they had some change of heart when you told them of the near-tragedy that took place at the pond,’ Hester exclaimed incredulously.

  ‘If anything, I would say it hardened their attitude still further if that had been possible. In their eyes it added an even greater sin to that already committed.’ He glanced about at them all. ‘Did anyone here have any idea that Will and Sarah have been meeting secretly by night at the mansion for months?’

  There was a response of astonishment from all but Hester. It was as if she had lost the ability to be surprised by anything said or done by her third son. When Joss had given her a few more details, she sighed heavily. ‘Then William is wholly responsible for Sarah’s present predicament.’

  Jonathan, leaning a shoulder against a door jamb, mildly entertained by the whole situation, addressed his mother. ‘Don’t put all the blame on Will. It takes two to play that sort of game.’

  ‘I’m not allotting blame,’ she replied sharply, ‘only responsibility. Since William is not present to shoulder it, I’ll do it in his place. Sarah shall have a home with me.’

  She refused to listen to their protests and warnings. Ann, who had come downstairs to fetch fresh tea, spoke out heatedly. ‘You can’t have that girl here! Whatever anyone says, if it hadn’t been for her William would never have fallen prey to that recruiting officer.’

  Hester faced her. ‘I’ll not have Sarah turned out on the streets for you or anyone else. Show some mercy and be thankful never to have found yourself in similar straits!’

  Ann’s eyes fell away from her mother’s penetrating gaze. It told her that Hester must have had an inkling, never before mentioned even as indirectly as in the past minute, that she had run after Matthew and that he had deserted her. ‘It’s your decision, Mother,’ she said tonelessly, jerking up her chin. She had Dick now and Matthew did not matter any more. If her marriage was not exactly what once she had wished for, it was safe and comfortable and her husband cared for her. She did not ask for more. The talk switched away from her as Letticia, less easily silenced, took up the same cudgels about Sarah’s permanent presence in the house.

  Upstairs Sarah had stumbled from the bed, irrationally afraid of being on her own in an unfamiliar room, and she had reached the landing in time to hear most of what had been said downstairs. She raised a trembling fist and banged it down on the baluster. Someone was screaming her thoughts out and she realized vaguely it was herself.

  ‘None of you need worry! I don’t want to stay! Nobody shall ever be troubled by me again!’

  Peter moved first. He found Sarah lying prone on the landing beating her head and her hands on the floor and sobbing hysterically. When he attempted to lift her up she resisted him, clinging to the balustrade, her sobs turning to screams. Hester came close behind him, having instructed Ann to bring a bowl of cold water which she applied liberally to the struggling girl’s face. This had the desired effect and in a few minutes Sarah allowed herself to be helped to her feet, although still sobbing.

  ‘I can’t go on without William and yet he will forget me across the ocean. Today there was a difference in him already.’ Her voice shook as if again hysteria was about to rise in her. ‘I don’t want to be alone!’

  It took some time before they finally quietened the girl with assurances that she would never be alone but would be a welcome member of the household.

  That night Hester admitted to herself that her daughters were probably right and she had considerable doubts about Sarah being an easy addition to her home. Doubts that proved only too correct. Sarah was persistently difficult and contrary, no longer subdued away from the tyranny of her former guardians, who had sold up and vanished, nobody knowing where. She appreciated nothing that was done for her and had eerie moods when she stared into space, never seeming to hear anything that was said to her. There were nights when she cried for William in such desperation that Peter had to be fetched from his home to soothe her down. It was only with him that she regained a certain equilibrium and the better side of her nature showed through. Hester would have liked to be cheered by this sign of improvement but there was a hint of obsession in Sarah’s attachment to him, all the more sinister since she had not yet lost that which she held for William.

  James had warned Hester it would be many months before she could hope to hear from William and she was still far from expecting news when a letter came for her. Peter, recognizing William’s handwriting, called Sarah to listen while he read it aloud for his mother, both having agreed that she should be allowed to share in whatever he may have written. The girl sat on the edge of a chair, pale and trembling with eagerness as he broke the seal, her hands restless as birds.

  My dear Mother [Peter read in his firm voice]: Owing to a piece of good fortune I am able to send you this brief letter to tell you I am safely arrived in the American colonies. Conditions are tolerable after a most distressing voyage. This evening I was sent with a message to a military office on the other side of the town and happened to fall in with a kindly woman, the wife of the master of a fast merchant vessel, which will be sailing on the morning tide. She has offered to take a letter from me, which she will see is delivered to you when they reach London. It is agreeable to have two local lads with me, the brothers Hounsom from Stoops Farm, and I should be obliged on their behalf if you would let their parents know they are well. Their talk is mostly of crops and next year’s harvest, which makes them wretchedly homesick, but I have put my old life from me. I miss you all more than I can say and try not to dwell on how long it may be before I see you again. Meanwhile I endeavour to make the best of my unfortunate state. Many of the colonists are not pleased by our arrival, but at least there are some pretty girls willing to be friendly with the redcoats and I shall not be lonely here. My sincere regards to you and all the family. Your devoted son, William.

  Sarah leaped to her feet with a piercing scream, throwing her head and body about as if demented, her face distorted. ‘No word for me! Nothing! I no longer exist!’

  Hester sprang forward, but Sarah knocked her aside and tore out of the room to race for the stairs. Peter dropped the letter and dashed after her. Without pausing on the landing she took the second flight, her footsteps pounding. Whirling a hand around the newel post on the topmost landing where the maids slept, she rushed through the door to the attic staircase and slammed it after her, knowing he was in pursuit. He reached it but the key was turned. He wasted no breath, simply drawing back and
smashing his foot against the lock. The door swung open to the last narrow flight. He found her at the attic window sobbing hysterically and throwing herself at the window-handle, which was stiff from long winter closing.

  ‘No, Sarah! No!’ He dragged her away from it as she struggled wildly.

  ‘I will kill myself! I will!’

  He pulled her head against him with his broad hand and stilled her arms with his own. ‘No! That’s not the way to get through this. I should know. It’s how I felt when I lost Elizabeth, but I would have failed her if I had taken that path.’

  ‘You’re stronger. That letter ended my last hope! William will never come back to me. I can’t go on! I don’t want to live without him.’

  He stroked her hair gently and held her until her hysteria passed and she drooped listlessly against him. ‘Help me,’ she implored desolately.

  ‘I’ll help you.’

  ‘Promise!’

  ‘I promise.’ He could not have refused her. She was frightened and pathetic, much like any of the helpless wild creatures he had rescued in the past, but the difference was that she would be less easy to set free. He was convinced that if not thoroughly reassured, she would attempt suicide again, the unbalanced streak in her all too obvious. Maybe as William’s brother he should be the one to shoulder that burden, for with Elizabeth gone he would never know love again as he had found it with her. If Sarah continued to trust him he might well be the anchor that would stop her from destroying herself.

  During the next two months Hester saw what was happening and tried to dissuade him. ‘You’ll bring terrible unhappiness down on yourself. Don’t let pity rule your heart, Peter. I’ll always look after the girl.’

  He was stern with her. ‘Let me be. My happiness went with Elizabeth. I shall do what I believe to be best.’

  Hester looked down at her hands in her lap. How could she make her son understand that life went on, that in the years to come he might find room in his heart for another woman without losing his loving memories of Elizabeth. She glanced at his set face. It was hopeless. He was too young, too inexperienced, still too wrapped up in his bitter grief to heed her pleadings.

  Not long afterwards Peter and Sarah were married. He had already moved out of the home he had shared with Elizabeth and he took Sarah to another house only yards away from Number 107 in Bunhill Row. There was no love on either side, simply protectiveness on his and a weird doting on hers that bore no relation to the intense feelings she still harboured for William. Once the ceremony was over, it was impossible for Hester not to experience a sense of regained freedom through having Sarah out of her house.

  Hester’s meetings with James offered welcome spells of relaxation from family worries and workshop tensions. She dined with him whenever she was in the city to discuss designs or on other matters that needed her presence, for otherwise she left all business affairs to Peter and signed whatever papers necessary with her cross. She dressed in style for these visits to London. Side hoops had given way to simple fullness supported by petticoats, the softer style enhanced by the frills of a fichu. Mostly she favoured sea colours these days, knowing they set off the luxuriance of her hair in which she had taken pride all her life. The marigold rinse could no longer defeat two broad grey wings that swept back into a gleaming coil, but the lappets of a fashionable lacy cap veiled them to a certain extent. In any case James never saw any difference in her, treating her as though she were still thirty-nine and twenty-one years did not lay between that first meeting in the herb garden and the present day. He was a little broader and stouter and slightly more ruddy in his complexion every time she saw him, his marvellous good humour still matched by his continuing good health. He was like her in rarely, if ever, catching as much as a simple cold. If his cropped hair was thinning it neither showed nor mattered, for the white wigs that he wore with a formal curl over each ear suited him well.

  She was particularly pleased to see him one October day, having heard of a stroke of fortune that had come his way. They met in the private dining-room of a large hostelry where the food was superb and the cellar limitless.

  ‘My dear Hester! How well you look and what a pleasure to see you.’ He kissed her warmly on the mouth. On their own there was no social pretence between them, the deep harmony in their relationship having long since erased the old emotional conflicts.

  ‘This is a celebration, isn’t it?’ she said, when they were seated at the table.

  His eyes twinkled at her. ‘I thought you might have heard. Who told you?’

  ‘Joss read it out of the newspaper.’ She raised her sparkling glass to him. ‘My most sincere felicitations, Sir James! No man deserves a knighthood more than you with your long service to the community, especially as Alderman of the City of London for the Cripplegate Ward.’

  ‘I thank you, my dear. I value your kind words above those I received from King George himself!’

  ‘Now you’re flattering me,’ she laughed, although she knew as well as he that he had meant what he said.

  As was their custom when together, they exchanged family news before moving on to other topics. She was able to tell him they had had a second letter from William which had been nearly six months in transit. He had written on a cheerful note, but once again a bleakness of spirit had come through between the lines, something she had detected immediately on both occasions when his letters were read out to her.

  ‘He’s in Virginia, mostly on patrol. There’s a troublesome element among the colonists with whom naturally, being Wiliam, he is in sympathy,’ she said smilingly.

  ‘I’m with him there and so is half this country, Hester. After all the colonists are simply Englishmen abroad and why should they be subject to impositions there that we would never tolerate here? This is being voiced frequently by notable members in the House of Commons and I hope that reasoning will prevail or greater trouble will come.’

  ‘I hope it doesn’t,’ she sighed fervently, ‘because Will will end up in the thick of it.’

  ‘Does he know of Peter’s marriage?’

  ‘Peter wrote himself to tell him. In this letter recently received William wishes them both well.’

  ‘How did Sarah react?’

  Hester frowned unhappily. ‘In the worst possible way. She kept Peter away from work for three days for fear of what she might do. It has been generally agreed that for her own safety it is best that she doesn’t know in future when a letter comes.’

  As it happened, that ruse was not to be needed. It seemed that the news of the marriage had had a more upsetting effect on William than anyone had anticipated, for he did not write again. Once Hester received a verbal greeting from him through a soldier in a homecoming regiment, but otherwise nothing more was heard.

  Gradually Sarah settled down in her marriage. She developed an interest in gardening, something that was new to her, and was at her most peaceful when planting and tending her flowers. In the winter months she was frequently restless and temperamental, peering out through the windows at rain or snow as if she were caged. Often she would accept social invitations for Peter and herself with neatly written acceptances and then at the last minute refuse to go. He never persuaded her, for she was too unpredictable. When she did attend with him her behaviour was faultless and she enjoyed herself, giving him an insight into the kind of life they might have salvaged together if some quirk in her nature had not gone awry.

  From the first Peter had employed a housekeeper whose duty it was to keep a protective eye on his wife at all times during his absence. Sarah showed no interest in domestic affairs, which in itself was a rebellion against the training her aunt had given her, and with maids to clear up after her she took a delight at times in being deliberately untidy. It was not unusual on days when she could not do gardening for her to tumble everything out of her drawers and clothes chest on to the floor in an act of defiance against the rigid discipline of the Thornes, wherever they were these days.

  Once Peter found her cl
ad only in her petticoats and laughing wildly as she twirled barefoot amid the scattered clothing. ‘They can’t punish me now, can they, Peter?’

  ‘No, never again,’ he replied patiently as he had done many times before.

  Abruptly she stopped her aimless dance and darted across to clutch him about the waist and press herself to him. ‘Hold me!’ she implored, wanting the security of his arms that went about her.

  In him she searched always for William, for he was of the same flesh and blood and any similarity in expression, voice or action was a sudden balm to the ache that was always in her. Since both brothers were built with the same broad shoulders tapering to narrow hips and muscular thighs, it was easy to pretend sometimes that it was William who was coupling with her; at others, when imagination failed, she would begin to sob and shriek hysterically, trying to claw and hurt the one person whom she knew stood between her and all that was frightening in the world. She never felt the least regret afterwards. It was Peter’s own fault that he was not William, an unbalanced reasoning that remained lodged in her mind.

  Fourteen

  It was James who suggested to Hester that she should hold an exhibition. ‘I’ll invite every distinguished person I can think of on your behalf.’

  She had had a lot of work on his recommendation and a public display would bring her wider attention from the clientele that she wanted. Not that she scorned the everyday work that made up the bulk of her output any more than John had done before her, but all along she had worked out of necessity at an economic level, using thin silver whenever it suited an article, which meant it would be a delight to launch more often into costly and extravagant work. Although she was intrigued by his idea, there was a stumbling block.

  ‘There is nothing I should like more. Unfortunately the financial outlay —’