Usually, Matthew Norbery liked nothing better than for the servants to gape at his latest fashionable attire. He feigned to deplore such reverence, coming as it did from half-witted yokels, but it fed his insatiable vanity.
It was a new experience for Joshua to see his brother disconcerted by an eight-year-old girl, who fixed her gaze on him for quite ten minutes, with the intensity of a gundog watching its master.
There was only one thing worse than not being of interest to anyone. That was for a newcomer to make Matthew the sole object of her curiosity. His agitation increased by the minute. Eventually, he jumped to his feet and flounced around the room, while Sophie lay on the floor, waiting for him to return to his seat. Then she yawned to show her boredom, which astounded the other girls. Seeing his sister’s look of horror, Joshua could imagine the scolding Sophie had in store.
Eventually, Charlie nudged Joshua in the ribs. “I know what she’s doing, Josh,” he whispered. “Sophie has a habit of collecting things. She never takes anything of real value – just enough to cause annoyance. It was the same when Aunt Barleycorn was nasty to her. Sophie hid her spectacles in a flowerpot, and it took days to find them.”
It was hard to imagine what his brother possessed that would be of interest. Well, there was the ornate gold fob he wore at his waist, or the huge quizzing glass he waved about and through which he peered at people with a hideously magnified eye. It had frightened Joshua when he was a little lad, and he still had nightmares.
Then he realised if Sophie went for things of little monetary value, she might have designs on the exquisite trim around the top of his brother’s brand new hessian boots, crafted by Mr Hoby.
She must have guessed the mirror shine, which Matthew truly believed was the best his valet could achieve, came second only to the gold tassels that adorned them.
They intrigued her so much that she often moved her head from side to side in time with the swaying tassels as Matthew paraded around the room. Eventually, he minced his way back, giving Sophie a wide berth, before sinking onto a seat with the foppish grace of a mannequin.
The minute he settled, she sidled up to him and crouched down to take a closer look. Then she looked him in the face, and smiled.
Immediately, he raised his open hand ready to strike, thinking to intimidate her.
“Ugh, get away from me, you dirty little wretch,” he squawked. “Don’t you dare touch my boots…”
His feeble demand was to no avail. Sophie was transfixed. It was as if she was waiting for something – and it came right on cue.
“Leave my sister alone,” Charlie roared, hurtling forward with fists bunched.
Matthew Norbery recoiled in horror, but his lack of attention gave Sophie the opportunity she needed to snatch one of the tassels from a boot, and toss it amongst the retriever gundogs in front of the fire. The largest black one, of solid build, gobbled it up and promptly spat it out again, drenched with spittle.
While others in the room looked on in astonishment, Sophie darted back to Charlie’s side in triumph. She had made her point.
Joshua started to giggle. He could not help himself. He had never seen his brother so enraged, or impotent. It was a joy to watch.
Snatching up his cane, Matthew leapt from the chair and turned menacingly on him. “What are you smirking at, Norbery?” he snarled. “I’ll give you something else to think about.”
“Matthew,” their father admonished, “if you cannot behave better than a spoiled child, then leave the room.”
Caught out in his abuse, the bully dissolved. “It’s not fair,” he blubbered. “Look what that… that… beastly creature did to my boots. She’s ruined them.”
“It does not excuse your behaviour. Stop the theatricals at once, and at least try to behave like a man.”
His father’s icy tone sent Matthew scuttling off in a huff to complain to his mother, and leaving Joshua to hope the inevitable backlash would not rebound on him, as it usually did.
Before he left the salon, Joshua looked for the missing tassel, but there was no sign of it anywhere. Then something caught his eye. He noticed Sophie slip her clenched fist into her coat pocket, and knew with a certainty Charlie was right about his sister. She did have magpie tendencies.
After he dined, Tom retired to the library and sat at his desk. He was tired from travelling and wanted to sleep, but the firm chair helped to keep him awake as he leaned forward, propping his elbows on the desk and chin in his hands.
He needed to think, and decide what to do about Matthew. No one could deny the provocation, but what shocked Tom was his eldest son’s lack of control, so reminiscent of Kate.
He should not be surprised, because Jane told him about Matthew’s aggressive behaviour to Joshua. Now he had seen it for himself, and it was clear that the older boy had been unchecked for too long. He needed occupation.
Kate was his next problem, for whatever decision he made, she would never agree. Irrespective of that, Tom knew it was better to wean them now with a year or two at university than wait for the extended period of a Grand Tour.
Goodness knows how long that would last, or what the cost would be; he would have to accept it.
It was doubtful if Matthew would derive any educational benefits from university, but his absence from Linmore would be a desirable outcome.
The sound of the door opening disturbed his reverie, although Tom sensed Jane’s presence, even before she crossed the threshold. He stood up and moved towards the couch.
“Come and sit down, Jane,” he said. “I haven’t held a sensible conversation since I left home.”
She glided forward and found a comfortable space beside him.
“I know,” she said with a laugh. “I’ve just heard Mary Kilcot telling everyone about her travels. It seems she had a wonderful time, and I imagine she will still be talking at midnight.”
Although the recollections amused him, Tom wanted to discuss other things.
“What am I going to do about Mathew? I know he is grossly overindulged, but I have never before seen him lose control over something as petty as an expensive pair of boots. For a moment, I thought he would have harmed her.”
“No, he wouldn’t have attacked Sophie,” said Jane. “She did not show any fear, which is what he wants his victims to feel. He thrives on that. I’ve seen how terrified Joshua is when he is on the receiving end of Matthew’s tantrums.”
“I cannot let this go on any longer. He needs some kind of occupation, and company other than his mother. Kate’s influence is destroying any sense he might have. He is becoming more like her every day. What do you think she would say if I send him to Oxford? It is, after all, a legitimate place for him to go.”
“It might help, but I’m afraid Matthew already has other company – drinking friends, with whom he meets in Norcott, at least twice a week.”
“William Rufus told me Matthew is frequently inebriated. Do you think his mood changes are alcohol induced?”
“Possibly, but I suspect there is more to it than that. There is something odd about him,” said Jane. “If you look at his eyes, his pupils are fixed. He looks almost distant, and there is an aromatic smell on Kate’s side of the house. I know Matthew smokes, but this is not like the cigars you use. I hate to say this, but it reminds me of…
Tom interrupted. “Are you sure his friends come from Norcott?”
“Yes,” said Jane, “and if the name Kate mentioned was correct, they have the most appalling reputation.”
He looked at her, his face tense. “You mean types like his maternal uncle?”
“Yes,” she said, “and knowing the Stretton family history, I don’t know where it will end, but it won’t be anywhere good.”
At Jane’s words, Tom felt a chill sense of unreality creeping over him.
“I hope you are wrong,” he said, “but if that is the case, we must assume they are supplying Matthew with opium. That is the last thing we need.”
“What will you
do?”
“Consult with the physician, and find some way to separate Matthew from his local associates. Maybe he could visit some of the family – possibly at Rushmore. It might help distract him, and give me time to organise something more permanent for the future. I only hope we can persuade him to go.”
“Don’t worry, Tom. If there is anything Matthew likes more than low company, it is elevated – the higher up the social scale the better.” Jane’s dry tone expressed her feelings about her nephew. “With your agreement, I will write to my sister Clarissa in London, to invite the Cardington family to make a detour here when they return home. The timing is ideal, because the parliamentary session will soon be over. I have a feeling it will take little more to achieve an invitation for Matthew to go to Rushmore. If Kate can go as well, that is all to the good. A month, spent in the company of his cousin, Atcherly, would help eliminate the influence of the low life with whom he presently consorts.”
“Bless you, Jane. Of course you may invite them.”
“This is expediency,” she said. “My concern is that Matthew will use the tassel incident as an excuse to punish Joshua. He was beside himself with rage.”
“Yes, I know, but Sophie could not have chosen a more effective way to discomfit him. One minute he was bullying Joshua, the next a blubbering child. It won’t be easy for you to be here with Kate if he goes to university.”
“Don’t worry about that,” she said. “We must deal with the short term first. I doubt Matthew will cause problems at Rushmore. He’s too much in awe of Lord Cardington, but just in case, I will suggest Martha takes one of her sons as support with Kate’s care.”
Tom nodded agreement. “Sidney, the eldest, has the right temperament, William Rufus, his brother, must stay here with the boys. When I am next in London, I will make enquiries about support at university, and a bear-leader for Matthew’s tour.” He yawned, and stretched out his long legs.
“D’you know, Jane,” he said, “I’m looking forward to the next few weeks. I want to take the lads out driving, and renew my acquaintance with the estate. It is long overdue.”
CHAPTER 5
When Joshua awoke the next morning, he could not wait to tell Charlie his plans for the day. A quick knock and he was through the door of the adjoining bedchamber. He stopped, perplexed as two tousled heads rose from the pillows.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, backing out in confusion, wondering why Sophie was sleeping in Charlie’s bed when she had a room of her own.
“It’s all right, Josh,” said Charlie. “You can come in. Sophie doesn’t mind.”
Cautiously, he peered round the door, and sure enough, she was sitting up in bed, rubbing her sleepy eyes. He could not imagine entering his sister’s bedroom for any reason. That sort of thing just was not done.
He stood, uncertain what to do until Charlie said, by way of explanation,
“Sophie didn’t want to be alone. We shared a room back in Ireland to save on the linen.”
Anxious to avoid looking at Sophie in her nightclothes, Joshua turned instead to the framed sketch of a dragoon officer in regimental dress, which stood on the bedside table by Charlie’s bed.
“Who’s this?” he asked.
“It’s our pa.” Charlie’s voice filled with pride. “He was a real hero, and that’s why I want to be a soldier.”
“So do I,” said Joshua. “My father’s brother was an officer in the East India Company Regiment. When he died, Lucy and Julia came to live here.”
“Then we will be soldiers together,” said Charlie, with a grin.
It was Joshua’s dream come true. All he ever wanted was to be a soldier, and to have a friend.
“What about Sophie?”
Charlie was in no doubt about the answer. “She’ll come with us and follow the drum.”
That was not quite what Joshua had in mind.
Breakfast seemed to take forever. Joshua finished his repast easily enough, but the selection of food filling the heated trays in the dining room proved too tempting for Charlie to resist.
“Can we choose whatever we like?” he said, awestruck.
Receiving a nod of agreement from the attendant footman, he set to with a will, lifting one lid after another to inspect the contents.
When her brother finished making his choice, Sophie followed behind and pointed to a couple of slices of bacon, a spoonful each of grilled tomatoes and mushrooms, braised kidneys, with coddled eggs – on one plate – because that was how she wanted it.
At her second visit to the sideboard, she passed over the poached kippers, in favour of a rare slice of sirloin, which Hayton the footman did his utmost to dissuade her from eating.
To no avail, because Sophie was determined to prove little girls did like red meat, with a thick crust of bread to mop up the succulent juices. She made no sound, other than to emit appreciative grunts of approval whilst licking her fingers.
Charlie was ecstatic. “I can see Sophie is going to enjoy herself here, Josh. When we were in Dublin, Aunt Barleycorn would not let us have more than one slice of toast, and a smear of butter. Uncle Lucius was the only one allowed to have honey.”
When they had eaten their fill, Joshua planned to set out on a tour of Linmore Hall. In assuming his cousins would look after Sophie, he wanted to show Charlie all the secret places they could hide, but his plan had to be adapted, because Sophie wanted to come with them.
Then he realised they must keep her safe, particularly after she had bested Matthew Norbery the previous day.
As far as Joshua was concerned, the timing of the house tour was crucial, and he wanted to walk through the downstairs rooms with impunity, knowing his brother never left his bedchamber until after midday.
They started weaving in through one door of the salon, and out through the hidden doors used by servants, then on to other rooms in sequence. It was important for Charlie to know of such things, because Joshua used them to escape from his brother’s vengeful ways. Passing through the rooms, they encountered maidservants attending to their cleaning duties. Several smiled a greeting, but no one said anything amiss.
By the time Joshua crept up the mellow oak staircase to the first floor landing, the ormolu clock on the reception hall mantelshelf was chiming half-past eleven. At the top, he peeped around the corner of the balustrade.
Things had not gone entirely to plan, because of Charlie’s fascination with detail. Joshua did not know all the answers to his questions. He had to think a lot, which meant the tour took longer than anticipated, and there were still many rooms to see.
He waited a moment, tilting his head to listen for any sounds that might indicate his brother was in the vicinity. The thought made his mouth feel dry.
“What are you doing?” Charlie asked.
Joshua hesitated, and then said in a quiet voice. “Just making sure there’s nobody about.”
“D’you mean him?” Charlie asked in the same, low tone.
He nodded and moved on again, thankful his friend understood. At the end of a long corridor, he stopped short and pointed at a solid oak door.
“My mother lives through there,” he said.
“Are we allowed to see her?” Charlie wanted to know.
Joshua shivered. “No, you wouldn’t want to. I only go when I’m summoned.” He did not want to explain the reasons.
Charlie nodded. “Uncle Tom said Aunt Norbery was an invalid. What’s the matter with her?”
It was difficult for Joshua to explain. “She hasn’t been well since I was born, and blames me.” There seemed nothing else to say.
“Can we go outside now?” Charlie said.
They hurried along a long corridor towards the nursery wing, down the back stairs and out through the door to the courtyard.
Joshua ran outside, took a gasp of air and let it go with a sense of relief. Then he had an idea. “Do you want to see where the kitchens are? They might find us something to eat.”
It was less than two hours since t
hey finished breakfast, but viewing the house was a hungry business. He skipped down the stairs to the stillroom on the lower floor, and found a woman, clad in black bombazine, sitting at a desk. On seeing them, she turned immediately to speak.
“Are these your new friends, Master Joshua?”
“Yes, Mrs Delbury,” he said. “This is Charlie Cobarne, and his sister, Sophie.”
The housekeeper looked from one to the other, and said in a precise voice, “I’m pleased to meet you both, and hope you will be comfortable at Linmore. I trust you will let me know if you have any problems.”
Charlie nodded, but his attention was on an earthenware jar, reposing on a shelf. Then he turned his dark eyes and sunny smile on her.
“Do you happen to have any biscuits?” he asked.
“Of course I do, Master Charlie,” the housekeeper said with an indulgent smile. “These are special ones I keep for Master Joshua.” She lifted the lid and let them take two each of the fruity pastries made to a Shropshire recipe.
Joshua was so pleased that he could show Charlie someone liked him. His main problem was pleasing his mother, and he had long realised nothing he said or did would make any difference.
That night when Joshua went to bed, he could not find his nightshirt. He looked everywhere he thought it might be, but eventually, he asked one of the servants for a clean one.
The next day, his socks had gone, so he found another pair and thought no more about it. Then he noticed his scarf was missing, which was odd, because he had seen it the previous evening, hanging on the hook behind his bedroom door.
Thinking Charlie might have seen it, Joshua went through the adjoining door, and realised someone had moved Sophie’s bed into her brother’s room. She was sitting on the eiderdown, clad in his missing nightshirt, with a scarf around her neck and socks as mittens.
Charlie looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Josh. Can she have them for tonight? I will make sure she returns them in the morning.”
Joshua burst out laughing. He had never seen anything so funny in his life. Then he realised Sophie took it as a sign of approval.
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