Deborah blushed at her own folly but Frederick interrupted in a voice she had never heard before. “Don’t take that tone with a lady, Will Smyth. We could make our way in easy stages to a port to take ship to Marseilles when the weather was clement. No one said anything about crossing the Alps in winter.”
Deborah saw Will squirm at the rebuke. But he squared his shoulders and let the whole heavy weight of his personality bear down on Frederick. When he spoke it was in his most clipped and impressive voice.
“My lord, you surely would not consider missing Venice and Rome. The earl has sent most particular letters to titled friends who have houses there and would welcome you to stay with them. We can be very comfortable in Venice and Rome. But I have a suggestion, my lord. If Mistress Horden is determined to return to Rombeau as soon as possible we could lend her Peter who is young and vigorous and they could depart as soon as I could arrange for a vetturinoto take charge of the journey. I should explain, Madam, that a vetturinogives you a price beforehand which includes accommodation and provisions on the way. I would be happy to seek out a reliable man.”
Deborah had read all about the various modes of travel before they left home but she let Will Smyth finish and then looked down into Frederick’s eyes to see how he took this suggestion. He met her gaze and his blue eyes were not sunny but frowning and pleading.
“Of course you could have Peter,” he said, “but I would much rather accompany you myself as soon as it is practical.”
Deborah thought, I mustleave him. I could never be accepted by those grand people in Venice and Rome. They would think I was Lord Branford’s ‘woman’ and ignore me. I note that many of the young nobles provide themselves with female company in each new town. Frederick is too newly widowed and I hope too fastidious to indulge such desires but our mothers certainly believe the world will think that is the way of things with us.
She stared Will into silence. “Very well, Mr Smyth. I will be most grateful to have Peter’s services and will set off as soon as the weather is a little warmer. You could perhaps return via Rombeau, my lord, to collect Peter or I can send him back to join you. John and Jeanetta will not want to travel with a very young baby so we will probably stay there a little while.” She didn’t give him time to answer but turned on her heel as she spoke. “Let us go back to the hotel. Poor Suzette is shivering.”
Suzette immediately followed, just as if I were towing her, Deborah thought, and Will Smyth has fallen in beside his master as if to preclude us linking arms again. I admire his impudence. Peter is a pleasant lad, very shy of me but I can break that down. Well, I am committed and can see a little more of Florence before I depart.
But Florence was not the same any more. She had set her face against further intimacy and asked Suzette to sit at table with her. Lord Branford was downcast. She indicated a nearby table for him and Will Smyth. When she visited the Uffizzi Gallery for the second time she kept Suzette at her side. She even considered moving to a cheaper hotel but as a warmer wind came up from the south she decided to bring her departure forward. A letter had finally arrived from John begging her to come and make the acquaintance of her new nephew.
“I hadn’t really considered,” she told Lord Branford in a rare tête-a- tête at the foot of the hotel stairs, “that I am now an aunt. I must enter into my new role. I will leave tomorrow and thank you for your great kindness in sparing Peter to escort me.”
“Deborah, I don’t think I can bear this. We have been so happy together – ”
She swallowed hard but kept her fixed smile. “I know, my lord, but the time has come. You will fulfil your appointed journey and back home your appointed destiny and I mine. Let us not say a fresh goodbye tomorrow. The vetturinois to be here at first light.” She pressed his hand quickly and ran upstairs to her room to set Suzette to the packing of their bags.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Early May 1706 Château Rombeau
“Deb is here,” John called to Jeanette as he stood at their window and saw his sister’s tall figure emerge from the carriage. “Dear old Deb. But mind, not a squeak to her about your uncle or our windy friend.”
He ran out and down the great staircase to embrace her. “So, here you are, all on your own. You travelled with just Peter and Suzette. I got your letter that you’d sent poor Frederick packing.”
“I did not ‘send him packing.’ I wanted to come back to see what you and Jeanetta had produced between you.”
“And you shall. His nurse is in the gardens with him just now. He’s fretful a bit in the afternoon so she walks about with him but she’ll be back presently.” He led the way into the salon and clapped his hands for refreshments. It thrilled him that she should see how easy her little brother was in this grand place. All his childhood she had put him down because he was not at his lessons. But now he was someone, son-in-law to the Comte Rombeau, father of the heir to the baronetcy of Horden. He had feared she might overtop him again by becoming the Countess of Branford but that seemed safely out of the way.
When the wine and sweetmeats arrived he waved away the servant and poured her a glass with his own hand. “To Deb, to celebrate her safe arrival.”
She looked travel-weary but the wine refreshed her.
She asked, “And how is everyone at the chateau?”
“Sleeping off the afternoon as usual on a hot day. I daresay they’ll put on a party for you presently.”
“For me! They hardly noticed I was here before.”
“Any excuse for a party will do.”
“Le Vent has not been back?”
John was startled that she should think of himso soon, but covered his surprise with a laugh. “Oh no. He’s satisfied that you and I and indeed Lord B are all dutiful subjects of Queen Anne. Ah here is Netta to greet you.” He saw she had got Marie to titivate her face. How beautiful she looked with her trim figure, highcolour, sparkling eyes and raven hair beside Deborah who had risen as she entered. Suzette had already whisked away her hat and cloak and she stood slightly stooped with weariness, a thin, angular figure, her flaxen hair untidy, and her face sallow.
“How well you look, Jeanetta! Motherhood must agree with you.”
“But you, poor Deb, are quite exhausted.”
“Well, we came as fast as possible from Grenoble but there were many delays on the sea passage from Italy waiting for a fair wind. I’ll be happy to have a short rest here till you are ready to return to England. Oh course they are longing to have you back and to welcome the young heir to Horden.”
John looked anxiously at Jeanetta but fortunately they were interrupted by the arrival of the nurse who appeared at the salon door. “He’s asleep, my lady. I’ll take him to his bed shall I?”
“Show him to his new aunt first,” Jeanetta said.
On the long journey Deborah had thought about this moment. I shall meet a nephew, she had chuckled to herself, an interesting new experience. I have not handled a baby since Ruth was born and I was too young and far too recently overthrown by Ranald’s love and horrible death to be able to appreciate a tiny sister. Now I am a mature woman, learned and much travelled. I shall engage myself seriously with this little one’s progress and upbringing.
She smiled and stepped towards the nurse and said, “May I hold him?”
Nothing had prepared her for the physical sensation of taking him in her arms, the feel of his little shape, the weight of his sleeping head on her arm. Her whole body seemed to lurch, to yearn over him. It was like a convulsion. Oh God, I must have a child. I must bear one myself, my own.
Despite the upheaval that was going on inside her she stood very still, just gazing at him till she heard John say, “Well, Aunt Deb, do you like the little fellow?”
“Of course I do. He’s beautiful.” She handed him back to the nurse and turned to them both with a bright smile. “You must be so proud of him, so happy. Now, if I may, I will go and change these clothes. Suzette will be unpacking and I feel rather hot and tired.” She turne
d and left them, sure they would look at each other and say, “Poor old Deb, going to stay a spinster for ever. What are babies to her?”
She made her way to her old room where Suzette had indeed begun the unpacking. “Leave me awhile. I need a sleep,” she told her.
The moment she was gone Deborah clambered up and flung herself on the bed and hid her face in the pillow. She was shaking with suppressed tears but now she let them pour out.
What have I done, fool that I am, she demanded of herself. How can I ever become a mother now? I have cast off the only possible man in my life. That is indeed the height of folly. Did I not tell myself on the first day of this century that for a six-foot pole like me to think of getting a husband was the height of folly? I remember the words. But I had one in my grasp and have thrown him away. And he was so kind, so sweet. He did everything to please me. If I’d said, ‘marry me’ he would have done. Indeed I believe I could have compelled him to ask me. Am I to mismanage my life for ever? Have I slammed the door on my last chance of motherhood?
She lay there tormented. He waskind but what if she had told him the story of Ranald? Would his kindness have stretched to accepting second-hand goods?
There came a tap on the door and John put his head round and called, “Deb, I was forgetting, letters came for you a day or two ago. Deb, are you there?”
She sat up and pulled back the bed curtain a little. “Just having a rest.”
“Sorry, did I wake you?”
She was sure it was dim enough behind the curtain for him not to see her red eyes. “No, let me have them. Are they from home?”
“Two are and one from Rome. Lord B I guess, pleading for reconciliation perhaps. You should have grabbed him you know.”
She took them without a word. He was looking at her a little curiously. “You areall in, Deb. Do you want Suzette? She’s waiting in the gallery.”
“No, I sent her away. Tell her to go to the kitchens for something to eat for herself. I’m sure Peter’s there already. He was perpetually hungry on our journey.”
“As you wish.” John went out again.
She broke the seal of Frederick’s letter first. It was the only communication that had passed between them since the parting in Florence. She saw the words, ‘Honoured Madame’ and her heart sank. But then he went on, ‘Nay I cannot write that. We have been throughtoo much together. I amhoping, dearMistress Deborah, that you will soon reach the Château Rombeau and am therefore directing this there. We have made a stately progress from Florence to Rome via Sienna and are now delayed in Rome becauseJosephhasbeenill.ItisforthisreasonthatIam presuming towrite to you. If you are safely at Rombeau when you readthisyouwill havethecompanyof your brother andalsothe servicesof hisman-servant, Matthew. Could you theninstructPeter whenheissuitablyrestedtosetoutforVenicewherewehopeto arrieinJuneifJosephiswellenoughtotravel?Wewillstayatthe Leon Bianco which was recommended by my grandfather as a favouritehaunt oftheEnglish. Asyou can imagine Will Smyth is in good spirits now we are following our original scheme. He is scrupulous inpointing outbuildings, works of art and sculptures which I am toappreciate but he cannot rouse meto enthusiasmas my late companion did.’
Sienna, Rome, Venice, she mused. I have missed such magnificent places. And does he mean he has truly missed me? She read on.
‘Ihaveprayedforyoursafejourneyandtrustthatyourreturn with yourbrother and his family to Northumberland will also pass without hazards ofanykind. Itooamlooking forward tobeing at home inHertfordshirelater inthesummer. If you orany ofyour family are ever in thatneighbourhood I trust you will do me the honourof calling uponus.My motherandgrandfather wouldbe delighted to make your acquaintance.
‘Pray convey my humble duty to all at Rombeau and my regrets that I will notnow meet the count. If hostilities permit we will be returning via the German states and the Low Countries, but the French under Marshal Vendôme have inflicted a defeat on the Emperor’s forces at Calcinato and havestrongly garrisoned Turin so we await developments.
‘If our paths do not cross believe me I will alwaysremain, your devoted friend,
Frederick Branford.’
She flung the letter down on the bedcover. That’s it, she decided. He is satisfied never to see me again and assumes I feel the same. He was obliged to write to ask for Peter back and of course that saves him coming by Rombeau on his return journey. Yes, that’s the end of it.
Or was there an underlying sorrow? She picked the letter up and reread it. ‘We have been through too much together.’ ‘My mother and grandfather would be delighted to make your acquaintance.’ Of course he had to say that. He misses ‘the enthusiasm of his late companion.’ Well, how could he be inspired by a cold fish like Will Smyth? It was the enthusiasm he missed, not me.
The tears were welling up again and with them memories. I slid down that bumpy roof of tiles into his arms, she reminded herself. His hands gripped me and stood me upright on the flat roof and the fire burst from the hole we had just scrambled through. I was shaking but he was so calm. He had been praying, he told me afterwards. A man like that has his own rock within that will never fail him. What does his size matter to me? But it is mysize that matters. He could never love this long body. ‘A post’ that hateful le Vent called it. And not even virginal! Ah if only it were I think I would write back to his lordship a letter of passion – in the manner of Grandmother Bel – regretting my hasty parting from him, begging him to throw up his grand tour and come to me. Oh the poor man would be mightily embarrassed and would not know how to answer. He would have to ask his mother.
Struggling with hysterical sobs she broke open the letters from home. Her father and mother had written parts of one letter and Grandmother Bel the other. All were delighted that she was on her way back north, her mother particularly praising her for separating herself from Lord Branford’s company. She urged her to persuade John and Jeanetta not to delay their coming with the baby now they were all reunited.
Her father let more emotion slip out. After warning her to listen for news of the movements of the armies now that spring had come he wrote, ‘You cannot imagine how much I long for my Deb’scompany again. Home isnot thesame without you.If it has been hard for you to partfrom Lord Branford I feel for you but perhaps you can meet again in more convenientcircumstances. I certainly would be happy to entertain him here for his father’s sake. Henry was my closest friend.
‘Yourlettersonyourjourneynorthweremostwelcomebut told us only of the progress of your travels and that the man Peter was a loyal and capable escort for you and Suzette. Ishould assure you we are all ready to make that young girl very welcome at Horden Hall. But when you come I trust you will confide in us whatyour feelings are for Lord Branford. It cannot bewrong for a father to wishto know whatis in his daughter’sheart. ’
No, dear father, she thought, not wrong, but as I couldn’t speak intimately to you about Ranald,how can I open my heart about the great dilemma of Frederick? If he didlove me would you advise me to marry him without disclosing my past – just so he could give me a child? I do not think so. This I must face alone.
She turned to Grandmother Bel’s letter. Here, she thought, love will cascade forth without restraint or much punctuation. Maybe I can talk to herwhen I get home.
‘My darling Deb, myheart bled for you that you felt you had to break away from LordBranfordafter that unfortunate newspaper article. The world is a silly place and I have tried to ignore it all my life. As our dear Ursula always said love love love and all will be well. God knows she had a rough timeofitinlifewithherpoor hideous,lovelyface but shenever ceased loving.
‘ Of course I know you may not feel sensual love for Lord B and ifyou don’t well no harm’s done but if you do and he for you I pray heartily that you will still come together somehow. As you know I lovedyour grandfather Nat just from his letters after one short meetingand I determinedto findhimagainwhich I did in the worst circumstances possible and it was I who told him we were destinedfor each other so we werenever partedagain a
fter that. So who knows how it will be with you and Frederick? You can still have many years with him as I had with my Nat or maybe there is another to come into your life you are still young.
‘ And now there is a baby Nathaniel. I am so thrilled that they are choosing thatnameto rememberhisgreat-grandfather. Johnis a terrible correspondent and has not described the baby at all. Pray do so mysweet Deband delight your everlovinggrandmother Bel.’
Deborah was smiling by the end of the letter, though it left her breathless. Dear Grandmother! She has forgotten all about Ranald, that great hairy figure that still darkens my future. But maybe I can hang on to her principle of love and stop thinking of my cursed inches. Grandmother was blessed. She was just a little shorter than Grandfather and what a marriage they had!
She climbed down off the bed and decided to get changed now without Suzette’s help and prepare herself to meet everyone at the family dinner.
But the sooner I can be on my way home to Horden the happier I shall be, she said aloud, as she struggled to untie her laces without pulling them into knots.
Two days’ later, wanting to write home with a date for their return, she sought John and met him coming from the Neury’s rooms in the château. She beckoned him into the library. There was rarely anyone there and as she expected it was empty.
First she asked him what he had been doing up there.
He bridled a little. “Not your business but the fact is old man Neury’s taken a fancy to me and likes me to play chess with him sometimes.”
“ Canyou play chess? I tried to teach you when we were children.”
“I know I know. You were too quick for me then but he’s shown me the rules again. He always wins but that suits him well. What did you want with me anyway?”
Deborah accepted the explanation for the present and sat down at one of the tables to discuss the matter. “We have to arrange our journey back to England soon.”
“Oh.” John prowled about the room and then flung himself into the rocking chair beside the unlit fire at a distance from her.
Prue Phillipson - Hordens of Horden Hall Page 15