by Linda Finlay
The clatter of hooves on the cobbles in the yard interrupted her musing. She jumped to her feet, staring in amazement. For there, as if she’d conjured him up, was Jack sitting on a horse alongside another Preventative, who saluted.
‘Good day to you, Miss Clode. We’ve called by to let your father know we intercepted owlers at Saltcombe Regis where the boats were waiting to take the fleeces to France. Perhaps you could tell him he is no longer implicated and has no need to worry.’
‘Thank you, I will,’ she said. Feeling Jack’s gaze burning into her, she turned and stared at him. As he gave a tentative smile, warmth flooded through her, melting the ice that had encased her insides.
‘You all right, Rowan?’ Sab called, hurrying towards them.
In an instant Jack’s expression changed to one of dismay. ‘Is that him?’ he asked, in a tight voice. The senior officer nodded.
Jack turned and spoke to the other officer, who nodded and, with a salute in their direction, rode away.
Rowan watched as Jack dismounted and tied his horse to the post. He looked so stern her stomach turned right over.
‘You are Sab?’ he asked.
Sab frowned. ‘I am, but I’ve done nothing wrong.’
‘I have a message for Edward Clode. Perhaps you would immediately convey to him that we have apprehended the owlers and he has been absolved of any blame.’
‘That’s wonderful news, isn’t it, Sab?’ Rowan said, but Jack continued staring at Sab until he finally nodded and made his way back to the farmhouse. Only then did he look at Rowan. She stared back and silence stretched before them until she couldn’t bear it a moment longer.
‘I told you Father was innocent, didn’t I?’ He nodded and, when he still didn’t say anything, she cried, ‘He is a fine, honest man.’
‘But what about his daughter?’ Jack asked. Rowan felt sick. So Mr Acland had carried out his threat. ‘I couldn’t believe it when Vaughan told me,’ he continued. Rowan frowned. Mr Acland wasn’t called Vaughan. ‘Why didn’t you tell me yourself, Rowan? I would have been hurt but I’d have tried to understand. As Auntie says, you are very young and if someone paid you attention whilst I was away …’
‘Paid me attention? Whilst you were away? Jack Carslake, what are you on about?’ she cried.
‘That Sab. Vaughan saw you walking along the Mall with him. Said you were laughing and joking and clearly knew each other extremely well. Now I see only too well, and I can’t deny I was hurt at the thought of being cuckolded,’ he laughed coarsely, jerking his thumb in the direction of Sab’s departing back. Relief flooded through her and she burst out laughing.
‘Oh, Jack, of course I know Sab very well. We were brought up together on the farm here.’
‘What?’ he exclaimed.
‘Yes, we bumped into each other when I was returning from delivering a bonnet. We hadn’t seen each other for so long we went for a walk to catch up.’
‘But why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I intended to but when you picked me up you were as prickly as a hedgehog.’
He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Oh, Rowan, you do tell it like it is. I’m so pleased the air is clear between us. I can return to my duties with a lighter heart knowing we no longer have any secrets between us. Although next time I tell you about a tip-off I’ll expect you to be more discreet. Can’t have my intended ruining my career chances, can I?’
His intended? Her heart leaped. But, as he stood there grinning at her, Rowan knew she had to tell him about her past.
‘Before you go, Jack, there’s something you need to know. Something that might affect our future relationship,’ she whispered nervously.
He frowned and gestured to the fallen tree trunk nearby. ‘Sounds serious,’ he said. ‘Shall we sit for a moment whilst you tell me?’
She nodded and when they were seated, took a deep breath and told him about her time in the asylum.
‘So you see, Jack, you might not wish to continue our relationship now. Especially if someone like Mr Acland does tell,’ Rowan finished up.
There was silence save for the rustling of leaves and the lowing of the cattle in the nearby field.
‘Well, I can’t deny this has come as a shock, Rowan. If it’s any consolation I don’t think you have anything to fear from Mr Acland. He sounds like a bully who uses what he can to get his own way. Once he finds out I know your secret he’ll have no hold on you and will move on to his next target.’
Rowan smiled at him, grateful for his reassurance. But he didn’t smile back. Getting to his feet, he stared at her gravely, his next words sending her spirits diving to the depths.
‘I must get back to the station now or they’ll be wondering where I am. Thank you for telling me, Rowan, although I cannot deny I’m hurt you haven’t felt able to open up to me before about such an important part of your life. It is abundantly clear we don’t know each other as well as I thought we did,’ he said, giving a tight smile.
She watched as he mounted his horse, desperation spurring her on to call, ‘But, Jack, you must understand that I had my future to think of.’
‘As do I, Rowan. As do I.’ With a nod, he picked up the reins and galloped away.
She stood watching until the dust had settled and then threw herself to the ground. That was that, then, she thought, dashing the tears from her cheek. So much for the truth, Mother, she sobbed.
Finally spent, she picked herself up and made her way back to the farmhouse where her father and Sab, having finished their midday meal, were deep in conversation.
‘Conscience wouldn’t let me deal with them owlers, however much Fanny pleaded. To thy own self be true. Isn’t that what your mother used to say, Rowan?’ Edward said, looking up as she entered the room.
She nodded and forced a smile. If only she’d trusted her father, Jack wouldn’t have found her here.
‘You not having anything to eat?’ Sab asked.
She shook her head. Even the thought of food made her feel sick.
‘Well, come along, Sab, we’d better get on if we’re to get the ditches cleared before you return to Farmer John tomorrow morning,’ her father said, getting to his feet.
‘I know, Uncle Ted,’ Sab replied. ‘Wish I could stay here but he’s been good to me and I can’t let him down. I’ll be right glad to be back here permanent, like. I was telling Rowan earlier, nobody bakes like she does.’
Rowan smiled and started clearing their platters away, but in the privacy of the scullery, she leaned against the sink and wept. Clearly Jack couldn’t bring himself to forgive her. Was she destined to stay here for ever? She couldn’t just leave the men. They needed someone to cook and care for them, didn’t they?
That night, she took the string from under her pillow and, gripping it tightly, intoned:
Let me now regain true harmony,
Oh blessed one.
So mote it be.
Then slowly and deliberately, she untied the final knot. Replacing the now smooth length under her pillow, she pulled the bedcover over her head and willed the charm to work.
Visions of Jack haunted her dreams. In the first, he came to her wearing a green bonnet and holding out her mirror. In the second he was wearing a red one and waving her ribbon. The third time he appeared in a black mourning bonnet, his eyes and nose the colour of jet. Then everything changed. They were standing facing each other, separated by streams of ribbons.
She woke feeling drained, but knowing that whatever happened, she couldn’t remain here. Mrs Stokes was right, she had changed. Life on the farm was no longer right for her. She’d so enjoyed her job in Saltmouth, dealing with the ladies’ requirements. Her thoughts turned to Louisa and that horrible confrontation. She could see now that she had acted hastily when she’d seen the mirror. Had she been rude to Louisa? She really couldn’t recall but she did remember being accused of theft. Should she return and try to clear her name? In all fairness, although she didn’t think he would say anything, she needed
to warn Louisa that Jack knew about her past, and sooner rather than later.
Who would look after the men, though? They might have been pleased they’d fed themselves but that was only because she’d made the bread, butter and cheese!
Perhaps she’d ask Mrs Stokes if she had any ideas who could look after them in her absence.
Jumping out of bed, she stared out over the yard, where her father and Sab were already carrying pails of milk to the dairy. Her arm knocked against the books on the windowsill, reminding her she’d placed her clover between them. Pulling out the now perfectly pressed specimen, she smiled, remembering the first time she’d found one. She’d been deliberating on what she should wish for, when her mother had, in an unusually serious moment, told her it was up to folk to make their own luck.
‘That’s what you were trying to remind me, Mother,’ Rowan whispered. ‘I understand what to do, but need to know if this is the right time.’ Throwing on her homespun, she raced down the stairs and there on the back of the chair lay her freshly laundered yellow dress, stockings and petticoat. Her heart leaped, for if she was to return to Saltmouth, she needed to be smartly attired.
Before she could change her mind, she ran over to Mrs Stokes’s cottage and banged on the door.
‘Mrs Stokes, I wonder if you could help me?’ she asked.
‘Come away in, Rowan,’ the charwoman greeted. ‘Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you a drink?’
‘Thank you, but no,’ she replied, then sat bunching her apron between her fingers.
‘What’s up, girl? Spit it out,’ Mrs Stokes encouraged.
There in her cosy kitchen, Rowan began telling her about her dilemma. She was only going to mention her father and Sab needing someone to look after them, but the woman was so understanding, she found herself blurting out about Louisa and Jack as well.
‘Well, it seems you have a lot to sort out, Rowan, and it sounds like it’s going to take some time. Why don’t I take care of your father and Sab until you return?’
‘Would you?’ Rowan exclaimed. ‘It would mean higher wages and meals for you in the farmhouse.’
Mrs Stokes gave her gap-toothed grin. ‘A new life for both of us, eh?’
‘You mean you’d take it on permanently?’ Rowan asked, her hopes rising.
‘Why not? Tell your father I’ll get cooking later. Good luck, girl. You deserve it.’
Rowan could have hugged the woman. Hurrying back to the farmhouse, she ran up to her room. By the time she’d washed and changed into the smart clothes, her father and Sab were sitting at the kitchen table, breaking their fast.
‘Well, look at you,’ Sab whistled appreciatively as she came down the stairs.
Her father looked at her bundle and frowned. ‘You going then?’ he asked, shrewd as ever.
She nodded. ‘If it’s all right with you, I’ll cadge a lift with Sab as far as Pear Tree Farm.’
‘No, you won’t,’ her father grunted.
‘But, Father …’
‘You’ll sit and have a bite to eat and then Sab will take you right into Saltmouth. I guess that’s where you’re headed?’
‘Thank you, Father,’ she cried, going over and throwing her arms around him. ‘I will be back to see you soon, and Mrs Stokes is going to cook for you.’
Her father stroked his wiry beard and nodded.
‘If I’m to take you on to Saltmouth, Rowan, we need to be heading off straight away. Farmer John won’t be happy if I’m late,’ Sab said, jumping to his feet. ‘See you tomorrow, Uncle Ted.’
‘I’ll take some bread and ham with me,’ Rowan said, snatching up her basket. ‘Goodbye, Father. You will look after yourself, won’t you?’
‘Course I will, stop flapping like some mother hen, girl. Just remember, you always have a home here.’
Blinking back her tears, she nodded and followed Sab outside.
‘This takes you back, doesn’t it?’ Sab said as the trap rattled its way towards Sudbury. ‘Do you think Fanny will have gone back to London?’
‘She never came from London. Mrs Stokes told me she was born and bred in Exeter.’
‘But I thought she said she’d looked after young girls?’
Rowan shrugged, thinking it prudent not to divulge everything the charlady had told her. ‘It seems an age since we last travelled together,’ she said instead. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’ve certainly changed since then.’
‘Good thing too, or I wouldn’t be sitting this close,’ Sab jested, pretending to pinch his nose. She gave him a playful punch. ‘Well, you didn’t wear such fancy clothes then, Rowan. Hope that young Preventative’s worth it.’ She turned and gave him a sharp look, but he just grinned knowingly.
The church clock was chiming eight as she climbed down from the trap.
‘Thanks, Sab. I’ll see you again soon, I’m sure.’
‘Look after yourself, Rowan. You know where I am if you need me.’ Serious for once, Sab stared at her for a moment, then turned back the way they’d come.
Rowan stood outside Louisa’s shop, butterflies churning in her stomach. She noticed the bonnet in the little bow window was the same as when she’d left, but the window and pathway were spotless. Obviously the young girl from the Poor House was doing her job well. Come along, Rowan, you won’t achieve anything by standing here, she chided. She was making her way towards the entry when she stopped and, taking a deep breath, pushed open the door to the shop instead. As the little bell gave its familiar tinkle, Louisa came hurrying through from the workroom. Seeing Rowan standing there she arched an eyebrow.
‘Good morning, Madame Louisa,’ Rowan said, forcing a smile to her lips. ‘I wonder if I might have a word with you.’
Louisa stared at her for a moment then nodded.
‘First I should like to apologize if I was rude to you,’ Rowan said.
‘Apology accepted,’ Louisa answered graciously. ‘And I owe you one, too. I regret I falsely accused you of theft. After you left, I caught Maria helping herself to my signature scent. It would appear her follower likes her to smell like a lady when she goes out with him, would you believe. The silly girl also admitted to wearing that ostrich feather in her bonnet when she went to the fair,’ she added, shaking her head. ‘She is on her absolute honour not to take anything again or I have told her she will be dismissed. Between you and me, if I didn’t know she had a widowed mother and seven siblings to provide for, she’d have been gone in an instant.’
So Louisa did have a softer side to her nature, Rowan thought, relieved she had been cleared of blame.
‘I was wondering if you’d sold my mother’s mirror yet?’ she enquired.
Louisa sighed. ‘No, Rowan, I haven’t.’
Rowan felt her heart lift. ‘In that case, I wonder if I might come to some financial arrangement with you,’ she said, making her voice as businesslike as she could.
Louisa’s lips twitched. ‘And what do you propose?’
‘As I left here without collecting any wages, I thought perhaps you would offset them as a deposit.’ Louisa’s eyebrows rose higher. ‘Naturally, I wouldn’t expect to take ownership of my, er, the mirror until it was completely paid for. However, in order to finance this, I need to find employment and was hoping you might reconsider providing me with a character. After all, I did work hard and really can’t believe you had any cause to complain about my efforts.’
‘I agree you did work hard, but what about your attempts at bonnet making?’ Louisa asked, her lips twitching again.
‘Well, I admit the first was abysmal, but the second one passed muster with even your exacting standards,’ Rowan protested.
‘None the less, I’m not sure about providing a character …’
‘But you have just said it was Maria who helped herself to your things so …’
She was cut short by the tinkling of the bell. ‘Good morning, Mrs Parker,’ Louisa said stiffly, as the birdlike woman bustled through the door. ‘Now, why am I not surprised to se
e you this morning?’
‘Well, I was just passing, Madame Louisa, when, as usual, I looked in through your window to see if you had any new creations and, to my surprise, I noticed Miss Rowena. Ah there you are, dear. Are you back for good?’ the woman asked, turning to Rowan.
‘Miss Rowena and I were just in the middle of a business discussion when you came in, Mrs Parker. Is there something you wish to purchase today?’ Louisa enquired.
‘I have just come in to browse, thank you, madam, so please carry on with your conversation. I won’t listen,’ she added primly.
Louisa looked at Rowan and shook her head. ‘Mrs Parker, I don’t wish to appear rude, but I must finish my discussion with Miss Rowena. If there is nothing I can help you with, I’ll bid you good morning,’ Louisa said, ushering the woman towards the door.
But the gossip wasn’t to be fobbed off.
‘You have been sorely missed, Miss Rowena. Have you been on vacation, or was there some family crisis perhaps?’
‘Miss Rowena will tell you all about it later, Mrs Parker. Good morning.’ Louisa almost pushed the woman out of the door. Closing it firmly behind her, she dropped the latch and turned the sign round to show ‘shut’. Rowan’s eyes widened in amazement; never had she known Louisa to close during working hours.
‘Come upstairs where we can talk in private. We’ll never get anything sorted out here,’ Louisa said, heading down the hallway. ‘Maria, please bring a tray of tea for two up to my parlour,’ she called.
‘Well, Miss Rowena,’ Louisa said when they were sitting in the comfortable chairs that looked down over the yard to the little back garden beyond. ‘Firstly, I must tell you that I am not prepared to furnish you with a character.’
‘But why not?’ Rowan cried. ‘As I said, I did work hard.’
‘Yes, and that is why I’d like you to return to your position here, Miss Rowena.’
‘You would?’ gasped Rowan in amazement.