‘Ah, the beauty herself,’ he said, walking towards her. ‘The beauty who married the beast.’
‘Don’t say things like that, Joseph.’ She stood still as he reached her.
‘But you wouldn’t have married him of your own free will – you had no choice, did you? My brother bought you in the market-place, so let’s have none of your high and mighty ways. You’re a beauty though and if you’re nice to me I’ll see you all right. Pretty dresses to come out in and—’ He got no further, for Betsy’s hand was up and the stinging slap left his face smarting. I seem to be doing a lot of this lately, she thought, what is it about me that makes men think I would be willing?
‘I am not a doll to be dressed in pretty clothes in return for my favours,’ she said, ‘and I am married to your brother. Now get out.’
‘You’re a fiery one – I like ’em with a bit of spirit. Come here, wench.’ He reached forward. Betsy was too fast for him. She was off at speed and didn’t stop until she was in the field next to where Daniel was working. No, he has enough to do, she thought, I’ll handle this one myself. She turned and walked slowly back towards the farm.
Joseph was sitting on the ground by the corner which went round to the stable. He was leaning against the wall and watched her coming towards him.
‘If you want your brother he’s in the second field,’ she called. ‘Just keep away from the kitchen.’ She went indoors and pushed the bolts of the door along.
A short while later she saw from the kitchen window Daniel stamping across the yard to where his brother was still sitting. She moved from the window so as not to be seen, then she unbolted the kitchen door. She thought her husband would kill his brother if he suspected anything and with the door locked and his knowledge of his brother’s inclinations and reputation he would know.
She had no desire to protect Joseph but she knew Daniel’s passionate temper and she wanted no man’s blood on her conscience. The thought that Daniel might believe she had encouraged Joseph also crossed her mind. For all his strength he was vulnerable where relationships were concerned.
‘I just hope Joseph isn’t here for long,’ she said to Dumbo. The cat had followed her indoors and was now rubbing round her skirt. ‘He’ll be wanting something, that’s for sure, and I would have simply been a bonus.’
When Daniel and Jim came in for their meal Daniel said nothing about his brother and there was no sign of Joseph. Daniel didn’t linger and went out with his cowman as soon as they had eaten. Often Jim went first, and she and Daniel were able to sit a few moments longer, sometimes in companionable silence and sometimes speaking and planning the afternoon’s work.
Jim was never there for the evening meal and when they sat down for it that night, Daniel said his usual grace, ‘For what we are about to receive may the Lord make us truly grateful.’ Then, before he picked up his knife and fork, he said, ‘How long had Joseph been hanging about this afternoon, Betsy?’
She had her answer planned. ‘I don’t really know, Daniel. I looked out of the kitchen window and saw you talking to him.’
‘Did he come into the kitchen?’
‘Why, no,’ she answered truthfully.
‘He said he had been in to see you and you told him where I was, so he waited.’
She was silent and looking across to her he said quietly, ‘I was in the second field this afternoon and I sensed you were near, Betsy. I looked up and you were by the first field and hurrying away back here. Why was that?’
‘Yes, I did see him,’ she admitted. ‘I was coming to tell you he was here, but then I realized how busy you were and came back before I reached the second field. I told him you were busy and I had cooking to do and went indoors. The next time I looked you were outside talking to him.’
‘He – well, he hinted at certain things. Said he had been in to see my beautiful and seductive wife, and …’ he laid down his cutlery and walked round to her side of the table, ‘I didn’t believe him but I was worried in case he had pestered you.’
His arm was round her shoulders now and she reached up and patted it tenderly, ‘There’s no need to worry, Daniel my love. I learnt to deal with the likes of your brother years ago in service,’ she said. Then she added for reassurance, ‘He never came inside the kitchen.’
‘He wanted money again,’ said Daniel, and was it her imagination? Was there relief in his voice?
‘You didn’t—’
‘Of course not. Joseph’s money goes on women and drink. What we have is ours and he will never have a penny of it.’ She felt his lips brush the side of her cheek, then he returned to his meal and began talking about the crops and the animals. A great feeling of love and protection for this man almost overwhelmed her. In spite of being so much younger than her husband she often felt years older and infinitely wiser in the ways of people.
‘Daniel,’ she said now, ‘next market-day I will come with you and maybe I can find out something about Sir Benjamin Choicely and his son. I’ve been thinking about it a lot and I expect he came from these parts, don’t you?’
Daniel drew his lips together in a hard line, then he looked across the table at her. ‘You are determined to go through with this stupid idea, then?’
She nodded and knew immediately it was the wrong gesture, remembering too late how angry it had made him on that first day.
‘Yes,’ she said, quickly following up her action with speech. ‘I simply want to know a little bit about him, that’s all. Please try to understand, Daniel.’
He capitulated so suddenly it took her by surprise. ‘I suppose I do in a way, but we are so different in our attitudes, Betsy. I would want to leave everything as it is, not try to disturb things, but you want to turf and dig until you know the truth about everything and sometimes this isn’t good for anyone.’
She sent him a dazzling smile, and he felt again that surge of wonder that she was his. He knew he could not deny her anything she wanted for long.
That night she turned into his arms with an abandonment she hadn’t shown him since that last miscarriage and her resultant illness.
Since her mother’s funeral she had not communicated with the rest of her family, nor they with her. She knew that part of her life was over for ever, and in truth she had not enjoyed returning but Daniel’s strong sense of duty and her desire to please him had been the driving force.
She sometimes felt guilty over her lack of feeling for her family when he talked about them but since the day of her mother’s funeral she knew there was no need. Yet she could not help speculating about what Benjamin Choicely and his son were like. Especially his son. From what her dreadful aunt had said she must resemble that side of her family. She couldn’t say any of this to Daniel, but she began making plans for the big adventure of finding out about her father’s family.
She talked to Dumbo about it sometimes when she had returned from helping her husband in the fields and the cat silently followed her into the house. He was never far from her and Daniel had taken to calling him her shadow. For her part she loved the creature dearly and when she was alone often rested her chin in his soft black fur and found comfort for the babies she had lost. Now she told the cat about her plans to find her father. ‘I never knew the man I thought was my father, and I want to know something about the real one,’ she murmured and felt Dumbo’s body tremble in response.
When Daniel next went to market he said gruffly, ‘Do you want to come, Betsy?’
‘Yes. We need a few bits and I can get them while you are doing the business.’
They agreed to meet at noon. On the drive back Daniel said, ‘A Sir Richard Choicely lives near Canterbury.’
‘Richard, not Benjamin?’
‘Benjamin was his father.’
She could have hugged him but she didn’t want him to drive off the road, so containing her excitement as best she could said, ‘Oh Daniel, that’s great news. Is he – is he married?’
‘He was. He is a widower with two sons. But before you
let your imagination go any further remember he may not be your father. Your mother could have been telling you the truth when she said your father died when you were a baby.’
‘No, she wasn’t. This makes sense. It explains why I was treated so differently from the rest of the family. Do you think they knew, Daniel, or – or …’
He slowed the horse a little and glanced at her set face. ‘No, I’m sure they didn’t. They took their lead from your mother in the way they behaved towards you. But there is no proof, Betsy. No proof at all. I only found out who he was and where he lived because you are so eager to know. I doubt if he will be and, true or not, he will probably deny the story anyway.’
That night she was awake long after their love-making finished and Daniel lay contentedly by her side. She was the daughter of Sir Richard Choicely – she should have been born to a grander life, a richer life. Her practical nature soon took over, however, and she reminded herself of Daniel’s warnings. Of course he wouldn’t acknowledge her, and yes, there was a part of her that accepted that the story might not be true. In her heart she was as sure as she could be that it was. Aunt Agnes couldn’t play-act if she tried and on the day of the funeral she had blurted out the truth under her niece’s questioning. Betsy was convinced about it.
She decided to mull the ideas around in her head for a few days. She had the information she needed now, and sometime in the future she would find out more. For the moment she was happy to have knowledge of Sir Richard’s whereabouts. She fell asleep eventually, to dream of a large house with acres of grounds, and a happy family who never needed to wonder where the next meal was coming from as she often had before she went into service when she was ten years old.
Chapter 4
Three months after her discovery of where Sir Richard Choicely lived Betsy found a chance to satisfy some of her curiosity about him. She wanted to see if there was any truth in her aunt’s words about the likeness but she knew Daniel was against any more delving.
‘What good will it do you?’ he said, ‘Even if it is so, and I don’t believe it is, he is certain to deny it. You will make a laughing-stock of yourself, and Betsy, I couldn’t bear that. You, who are so proud, and rightly so, surely you don’t want to go begging a man to acknowledge you as his daughter if he has never done so before.’
She knew he was right and under normal circumstances she would feel the same but this was different. This involved her birthright. This could answer her queries as to why she had always felt and been so different from her brothers and sisters.
‘I shall not beg him to acknowledge me, Daniel, I shall only ask to be told the truth. I am not asking him for anything except one fact.’
It was when a horse bolted in the lane that the miracle happened. It seemed like a miracle to Betsy. The rider was injured and Daniel helped him into the house, the horseman leaning heavily on the smaller man. Together Daniel and Betsy tended his wounded leg, then Daniel went to get the trap to take him home. The horse had been caught by their neighbour, Martin, and while he and Daniel were harnessing the trap and capturing the runaway horse the injured man was sitting in Betsy’s kitchen telling her how grateful he was to them.
‘Where do you live? Is it far?’ she asked
‘A few miles this side of Canterbury, at Sir Richard Choicely’s place.’
She could not believe it at first, but before she had formed one of the many questions she wanted to ask him the men were back and helping the rider outside. There was no further opportunity, for it was obviously a painful process for the injured man and she could see him sweating with the effort. Quickly she made her decision and hurried to fetch her cloak and bonnet. She pulled on her boots, bolted the back door and ran into the yard, where the men had at last got the injured rider into the trap and reasonably comfortable. Martin was going to ride the man’s horse. Whatever had startled the animal into bolting seemed to have had no ill-effects, for he was calm and easily handled now.
‘Betsy, what are you doing?’
‘I shall come with you, Daniel. I can help because it might be a bumpy ride for someone with an injured leg. I have brought a rug and bolted the door.’
She could tell Daniel was not pleased, but, obviously anxious to get the injured man home quickly, he said nothing, simply clambered into the driving-seat and set off. It was a long drive and would have been such an opportunity for her to find out a little of Sir Richard Choicely’s way of life, but the injured man had his eyes closed most of the time and Betsy was aware of her husband’s disapproval of her having come with them. Their patient did tell them he was on his way back home, having been to visit a sick relative for two days, so the horse was well rested for the journey.
Betsy kept silent when Daniel, following his passenger’s directions, eventually turned into the drive of Chasebury, Richard Choicely’s estate. As Daniel and Martin helped the injured rider down and half-carried him into the house Betsy sat quietly in the trap. She was longing to go inside too, but knew it would be foolish to antagonize her husband by doing so. On the occasions when they clashed she felt miserable and upset. This surprised her but it was a fact and in her straightforward fashion she acknowledged this.
Her thoughts at this moment were exciting. Only a few hours ago she had not known where Sir Richard lived, and now, although etiquette and her husband’s temper meant she was denied the chance she craved, here she was outside his grand-looking home. Truly fate was often strange, and sometimes kind as well. Her body trembled with emotions which she fought to control, bringing a flush to her cheeks and even more sparkle to her eyes, the eyes that Aunt Agnes said were ‘his eyes’.
Daniel and Martin were not long in the house and when they emerged it was with another man, who walked over to the trap with them.
‘This is my wife, Mistress Betsy Forrester,’ Daniel said, and Richard Choicely, for it was indeed he, took her hand.
‘You have all been very kind,’ he said, ‘my steward is being attended to now and he too is grateful for your help.’ He moved back as Daniel and Martin climbed aboard, and then they were off. Betsy bit her lip and seethed with frustration because, although she had now seen Richard Choicely she had not had a chance to – to what, she wondered. She could hardly say to him, ‘Are you my father?’
Nevertheless the ice was broken and she had actually met the man. If she could devise a way to be somewhere where he was going to be during the next few weeks or months, then anything was possible. On the journey home she tried to keep the impression of his face in her mind but it proved singularly difficult. The only clear thought she had was that she did not resemble him in any recognizable manner.
After they had left Martin at his farm they went on in silence. Once the horse was stabled and the trap housed for the night Daniel came into the parlour where she was making a fuss of Dumbo. She jumped up to greet her husband, excitement shining through her eyes.
‘Are you satisfied now you’ve seen him,’ he said shortly.
‘Yes, Daniel. It would have been nice to talk to him for a while, or even go inside and meet the rest of the family.’
She said it mischievously knowing he would retaliate, but she wasn’t prepared for the next revelation.
‘I refused.’
At first she thought she had not heard him correctly, but one look at his face told her that her husband was telling the truth.
‘You refused? You mean you had the chance, I had the chance, to go inside and talk and you … you …’
Words failed her and she clenched her fists at him. ‘What right do you have to refuse, to turn down what might have been the chance of a lifetime for me?’
He glanced towards the straw halter but she was so worked up that the significance of the movement passed her by.
‘Just listen to yourself,’ he said, ‘listen to how you’re carrying on. That alone proves I was right not to let you get inside the house and ask him questions. Wild questions which might not have a grain of truth about them.’
> ‘They have, they have,’ she cried passionately. ‘Oh why did you turn down such an opportunity? It meant nothing to you but it means so much to me. You’re a selfish, mean man Daniel … and I hate you.’
He came towards her then, and he was laughing as he pulled her close to him. ‘You are magnificent when you are as angry as this,’ he said, his voice hoarse with passion, and tugging impatiently at her skirts he almost flung her on to the settee in his excitement.
Angrily she pushed him away, but he overpowered her and began covering her face and neck with kisses. She resisted for only a few seconds more before she capitulated, wanting him as much as he needed her.
Richard Choicely went thoughtfully indoors after the trap had gone. That woman, the farmer’s wife, was so beautiful. There was a fire sparking in her eyes and a warm glow radiating from her cheeks and lips. She reminded him of someone, yet he knew he had never seen her before. Unless it was in a painting but he could not recall which one. There had been a vibrancy about the woman, that dark glossy hair, those eyes that seemed to be dancing with bright mischief, and that superb figure.
Her dress beneath the open cloak had been simple and homespun. She wore it with the air of a lady, and the tantalizing glimpse of a creamy cleavage as her shawl trembled slightly when she moved to greet him sent a sliver of excitement throughout his being.
He shook his head in disbelief. Whatever was he thinking of, she was a farmer’s wife who had come along on this errand of mercy to enliven her dull existence. Yet in his mind’s eye he could picture her at a grand ball, in a dress of finest silk or taffeta, her lithe body moving in rhythm with his.
‘Stop,’ he said aloud, ‘you’re mad. Such thoughts.’ Deliberately he pictured Lily, the young lady to whom he was betrothed. Her skin was as pale and smooth as the finest porcelain, her voice and manner charming, yet – yet she did not intoxicate him as that glorious beauty whom he had just encountered had done with one rather demure glance. He was sure his heart had doubled its normal beat when their hands had briefly touched.
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