Again and again Sir Simon brought it down. I looked imploringly at Thomas, who screwed up his eyes as if he did not want to see, until finally he put his hands over his ears and shouted, ‘All right Uncle, I understand!’
Sir Simon gave one more heavy blow so that Lady Katherine sank to her knees. ‘You are too lenient. That is how it should be done. It worked with both my wives and it will with yours.’
Sir Simon threw down the switch at Thomas’s feet and strolled away. At the table Lady Ann was helping herself to more goose. Her plate, that had been full before, was now empty. She had been eating all the time the master was beating Lady Katherine. Next to her, her maidservant wiped a tear from her cheek, but she did not look up. Lady Ann picked a bone from her teeth.
‘Lace her again,’ Sir Simon said to me.
I helped Lady Katherine struggle to her feet, closed the bodice gently, fastened it as loosely as I could. I could tell her knees were rigid under her skirts. When it was done she sat dazed in her chair, face white as plaster. All this time my master Thomas looked down at the floor, his face pallid and dewed with sweat.
‘We will sell,’ Sir Simon said. His expression said the matter was closed.
The rest of the meal went by in a blur. When the meal was finished Lady Katherine begged permission to retire, and it was granted. I cleared the plates and went down into the kitchen.
‘How did they like it?’ Mistress Binch’s eyes were bright and eager.
‘Sir Simon beat Lady Katherine. It was terrible.’
‘But my roast goose, did anyone remark on it?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t care.’ I saw Mistress Binch’s face fall, but I couldn’t bear to talk of the food. ‘Have you any chickweed or coltsfoot? I have to go up to Lady Katherine, her back is bleeding.’
‘In the cold cellar, back of the shelf. Don’t waste it.’ Mistress Binch glared at me sourly.
*
I knocked gently on the door and pushed, but it would not open. I called softly, ‘It’s me, milady, Abigail Chaplin.’
After a few moments the door opened a crack and I went inside. Lady Katherine walked stiffly, like a peg doll. She had taken off her bodice but her chemise was stuck to her back with blood.
‘God in heaven,’ I said. ‘Sit down and I’ll fetch water.’
I wet the chemise and peeled it from her back, then rubbed the coltsfoot balm over the welts, careful to avoid the broken skin. Lady Katherine pressed her lips tightly together until they were white but she did not cry out. It was a mess, and guiltily I saw the bruise was still there too.
I did as my mother had taught me, remembering the instructions in her book of recipes for physick and cookery. I brought my mistress a clean nightdress and when I saw her hands were trembling, I helped to fasten it.
‘I’ll stay by the door. You must rest.’ I put the candle snuffer into the gap to wedge the latch shut again.
She spoke then but I did not catch it.
‘Pardon, milady?’
‘Will there be more scars?’
‘I don’t know. It looks bad right now, but it’ll soon heal.’
‘What was that stuff you put on it?’
‘Coltsfoot.’
‘Thank you…Abigail is it?’
‘My friends call me Abi.’ I don’t know why I said that, perhaps because she looked like she had few who loved her.
‘Abi then. Sir Simon may send my husband to me tonight, but I do not wish to see him.’
I was in awe. She had shed not a single tear. ‘I understand.’
I took up vigil on the trunk before the door, but all seemed quiet. After a few moments Lady Katherine went to the window, drew back the drapes. Her shoulders sank as she exhaled a long sigh.
‘Lady Ann’s carriage. She’s gone.’ And I saw her lips whisper, ‘And I hope to high heaven she meets a highwayman or plunderers on the road.’
I picked up the blood-stained chemise from the floor in thumb and forefinger to put it with the laundry. ‘How do you stand it?’ I asked. My father had struck me on the hand occasionally when I had forgotten my Bible verses, but nothing like this.
‘You should not be asking. It’s impertinent.’ A moment passed between us, and then she said, ‘I’m sorry. I forget myself. You were offering me your friendship, not your opinion.’
‘It’s alright milady, it must hurt.’
‘You seem to understand everything I say,’ she said. ‘Are you completely without hearing?’
‘Yes m’lady. I read lips and faces. You have good clear lips for reading. Sometimes it is hard though, when the words and the face say different things.’
‘You speak well. I saw a deaf child once and she could hardly speak, only mumble.’
‘I learned to speak before I lost my hearing, so I can remember what words sound like and the feel of them on my tongue.’
‘Oh. I imagined you’d been born that way. What happened?’ She came and sat down opposite me, keeping her shoulders away from the back of the chair. Her eyes were interested, curious.
Usually I didn’t like to talk about it, it was too private and too painful. But I was sorry for my new mistress. I gave her a defiant look to prove I did not really care. I tried to keep my voice offhand. ‘It was the spotted sickness, the messels. Everyone in my family had it, everyone in the cottages, but I had it the worst.’
‘Why? What was it like?’
‘I had dreams, visions, as though my thoughts were on fire and running here and there where I couldn’t catch them. When it was over, then I ...’ The words would not come. Emotion threatened to overwhelm me. I looked down, concentrated on my feet in their stout working boots. Keeping my eyes down was my way of cutting off communication. And I did not want to tell her about the spell, and the fire, about why I had deserved what had happened to me.
When I finally lifted my head it was to see her gaze still fixed on me.
‘That must have been hard. How old were you?’
I swallowed, felt tears well up, but tossed my head. ‘Nine.’ The word felt like a croak.
She stood up, winced. ‘We have both had hardships to endure, I see. So I am glad to have you as my maidservant, but I’m sorry, your days with me might be short. They are selling this house and there is little I can do. My step-father is not a man you can reason with.’
Was my employment to be so brief? I’d hardly earned anything yet. A few days’ wages wouldn’t buy anything. I wanted to save enough to buy that extra plot of land Mother wanted so much. And what would I do then, with no prospect of work? I did not relish the idea of following my brother into his digging venture either. Though I might be able to bear it if Jacob Mallinson was there.
There was a tap on my arm. ‘You may help me with my hair, now.’
I flushed, I had been thinking of Jacob instead of paying attention.
5. A Disguise
‘Lace me tight. I will not give them the satisfaction of thinking they have hurt me.’
In the morning Lady Katherine’s back was beginning to scab and looked more angry and painful than ever, but she refused to be cowed. I admired her. She acted the lady. If I was her I’d have been too much in pain. She picked her way downstairs, but as we went I saw that several more paintings had been removed from their places.
‘The paintings from the hallway,’ Lady Katherine said to Thomas. ‘Where are they?’
Thomas shifted his eyes to Sir Simon who was too busy wiping out his breakfast plate to notice. ‘Lady Ann has taken them for safe-keeping.’
‘You mean they’ve gone to fund troops for the King,’ Lady Katherine persisted.
Sir Simon looked up. ‘You watch your tongue, girl. I would have thought you’d had enough of a birching already.’
*
Later Sir Simon informed Lady Katherine a messenger had been and that they were riding out on urgent Royalist business. They would not be returning until after sunset. I was to tell Mistress Binch to arrange supper for their return. I let out a
trembling breath as I watched Sir Simon swagger from the room with Thomas following limply, his hose sagging at the ankles. I was glad they were going, it felt as though we were all walking on thin ice when they were in the house.
‘Count the silver spoons,’ Lady Katherine said as soon as they’d ridden away.
The drawers were empty, and the display of pewter was gone too. I went to the kitchen to ask Mistress Binch if the Lady Ann had taken them.
‘I don’t know,’ Mistress Binch said. ‘But if they are gone I expect so. This house will be closed up soon, I can feel it. They’re running everything down, and soon there’ll be no place for the likes of us.’
‘What will you do?’ I asked.
‘You and your questions. Leave off with them all.’ But then she softened. ‘I’m after being taken on by Lady Ann. She knows how a house should be run, not like Lady Katherine. No, Lady Ann keeps her house well in order even though Sir Richard is away. I’ve heard she can always get sugarloaf and spices for her kitchen, not like here where I have to scrimp just to buy a few herbs. Did Lady Ann say anything about my food?’
‘No, but she did eat a second helping of everything.’
Mrs Binch was appeased, and nodded. ‘Of course I don’t know if she’d be prepared to take on the likes of you,’ she said doubtfully. ‘She’ll want everything done right.’
I knew I would never want to work for Lady Ann. I didn’t like her and suspected she’d be a tyrant of a mistress. But I supposed I’d have no choice if she offered me a place. I could not pick and choose as other girls did.
*
That day the men did not return and it made Mistress Binch short-tempered. She kept me hard at it with the besom and scrubbing brush. The house was filthy and I was determined I would scrub it top to bottom, get rid of the cobwebs and have everything sparkling. I worked like a demon, until my hands were red raw with scrubbing, but at least when the overseer, Mr Grice, came, he could not say I wasn’t earning my keep. Who knows, he might even give me an extra shilling.
I tended my mistress’s back at night with more salves and ointments, though I cursed her because there was so much to do. I felt like saying, I could do with that ointment myself, for my sore hands.
*
Still no news from the men, until one day in the following week a messenger came with a letter for my mistress. I was just sprinkling the new rushes in the main chamber with dried lavender when Lady Katherine appeared, waving the vellum in her hand.
‘It’s going badly for the King, so my husband and my step-father are going away. France, probably. That’s where they went last time. He’ll write again, but Thomas says it will be at least a week.’
Oh no. Another week with no wages. Nobody had paid me anything yet.
My mistress did not notice my expression. She was brighter, like a different person. ‘A whole week! You can keep me company. It is dull riding around the grounds and the woods all by myself. Thomas never offers to accompany me. And partly I am glad, for I dislike my step-father.’
Dislike. A strange word to give to someone who had beaten her so badly. I realised then that the real gentry do not speak as we do, that their words are hedged-in with politeness. I picked up the tray and began to load it with her greasy breakfast plates.
‘I suppose we could walk,’ I ventured, ‘around the grounds.’ Anything to get away from the mop and bucket.
She grimaced. ‘That’s dull. I’d rather ride in the woods. I love the feeling of the wind, the speed, the pounding hooves. You could ride with me if I can find another horse and Binch could spare you. You’ll need a cloak if it’s wet.’ She looked at me a moment and then said, ‘Wait. I have an idea. Have you another cloak?’
‘No milady.’ As if I’d have extra clothes just hanging about, on my pay.
‘Then a skirt, bodice?’ Her eyes were all lit up with excitement.
I caught on to what she was saying and began to protest, ‘No, I don’t think –’
‘We can be two servant girls out for a stroll. It’s market day tomorrow in Wheathamstead.’
I forgot myself and said, ‘They’ll recognise you straight away. Look at you, all that fiery hair.’
‘Haven’t you a coif, or a hood I can wear?’
‘Only this kitchen one, and it smells of woodsmoke.’
She smiled, ‘Even better if I smell like a servant. You will give me your coif, and I will come to your room to see what else you have.’
‘But –’
‘It’s an order.’ She held out her hand.
I untied it and handed it over. I felt suddenly naked without it, with my dark hair all showing. Our eyes locked a moment. A moment ago I had fancied we were almost friends, but there was no mistaking who was the mistress now.
I bobbed a curtsey and marched away with the tray.
In the kitchen Mistress Binch was sour at me because I wasn’t wearing my cap and because I was not helping enough in the kitchen. She wanted a kitchen maid, and Lady Katherine wanted a lady’s maid, and somehow I was to cut myself in two and be both.
When I told Mistress Binch I was to walk out with Lady Katherine the morrow and we’d be gone the whole afternoon, she said, ‘Where? His Lordship says she’s not to go wandering about.’
‘Just in the grounds, she wants to paint some flowers.’
Mistress Binch spouted a torrent of angry words at me but I pretended not to hear and turned my back. That was until an iron ladle hit me on the shoulder. I grabbed the bucket of corn for the chickens and banged the door behind me, before she could throw something else.
I scattered the corn half-heartedly. There was a prickling sensation in my stomach. Deceit always gave me such a feeling because I knew it was a sin and that it always came back to bite you in the end. I could not disobey Lady Katherine, yet my heart knew that pretending to be something you were not was a dangerous idea. Especially if you were Lady Katherine Fanshawe pretending to be a Parliament maidservant.
6. A New Arrival
The next day I hadn’t time to dwell on the afternoon’s outing because as I was scouring the pans Mistress Binch burst in from outside. ‘Mr Grice is coming. Quick. Run and put on a clean apron. Then to the hall.’
Her face was anxious, so I shot up the servant stairs and gave myself a hasty splash in the water bowl and slicked my hair back. As I went down the stairs I glanced out of the window and saw a tall figure riding towards the house at a brisk trot. He had a pale clean-shaven face under his steeple hat, his hands were white and gloveless on the reins. Behind him on two heavy hunters followed men in dark livery, a packhorse trotting between them.
By the time I got to the hall Mistress Binch was there smoothing her apron and brushing down her sleeves. A moment later she heard the bell and rushed forward to open the door. It had no sooner widened a crack than Mr Grice was already through, leaning on a stick, his eyes casting about. The two servants followed. They were tall, thick-set men with the bored manner of hired men.
Mr Grice’s eyes settled on me. He inspected me from a distance. ‘The new maid, is it?’ he asked Mistress Binch.
‘Yes Sir.’
‘She’s not wearing a cap. Make sure she wears one in future.’ He came over and examined me, lifting my chin as if he would inspect the cleanliness of my neck. ‘Is she any use?’
Mistress Binch nodded, her desire to please Mr Grice over-riding her usual bad temper.
‘Tell her to fetch my saddlebags in from the stables and bring me some ale. My men will unload my other luggage.’
I stared because I couldn’t help it. His eyes were slightly protruding, as was his lower lip, his skin was smooth as wax. His mouth opened and closed like a fish.
Mistress Binch prompted me and I ran to fetch the bags from his horse which was a rangy black gelding with an ill-tempered expression. When I hauled the saddlebags over my arm, I almost fell over, they were so heavy. No wonder, one of them gaped open to reveal a travelling Bible and some other large leather-bound books.
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Mr Grice beckoned me forward and set off up the stairs expecting me to follow. He knew exactly where to go, so all I had to do was keep up with his limping gait, and he moved very quickly for a man with a wooden foot. Up the stairs he went, with a practised swing, with me panting behind him, out of breath from carrying his heavy panniers. On the landing he paused, put a forefinger to one of the empty patches where paintings had hung, shook his head, then led me to the west wing and into a guest chamber.
The room was bare except for a bed but he appeared not to notice.
‘There,’ he said, pointing to the floor. I let the bags fall where he pointed. Just beneath the bed I saw a mouse-trap with a half-decomposed mouse. He saw me look, wrinkled his nose at the odour. ‘You will empty all the traps.’ He went on with more instructions, which could have been, ‘bring fresh linen,’ and what looked like ‘juggle you.’
I just stared. Something about him disconcerted me.
‘Do you understand? A jug and ewer.’
Ah. Now I understood. He approached very near, and looked straight into my eyes. ‘If Lady Katherine gets letters from her husband or Sir Simon Fanshawe they are to come to me first.’
I didn’t know what to say. It seemed dishonest somehow to Lady Katherine to interfere with her correspondence.
He took a step even closer, frowning. His breath smelt faintly of scurf and decay. ‘Are you dumb? Did you understand? She demanded a maid, and I agreed to your employment...’ His mouth pronounced the words carefully, ‘… but it can be stopped just as easily.’
I swallowed, struck dumb. Not because of his words, but because his eyes were cold as marble.
‘Come here each evening after prayers, to bring me her letters. Anything that goes in or out of the house.’
Still I stood staring, until his hand grabbed my wrist, jerked it hard. I recoiled but he held it fast. A stinging slap on my cheek that made me gasp.
‘My leg needs dressing every day. You will bring water and brandy and linen bandages.’ He pointed to his foot.
Shadow on the Highway Page 5