The House of Allerbrook

by Valerie Anand

  “No one will ask her to feed the pigs or stand on a hilltop throwing grain into the wind to winnow out the chaff?” said Frances, quite seriously. She added, “That happened to a cousin of mine. She was married into a farming family and they did expect just that. She hadn’t been brought up to an outdoor life at all and it was too hard for her. She died after two years and she never had a child.”

  “Gwyneth, I promise, need not lift a finger,” said Jane firmly.

  “Gwennie can cook and run a household,” Idwal said. “And make bread and grow herbs, and she embroidered all the cushion covers on this settle where I am now. We never reared her to be idle. Our Nicholas will inherit my business, of course, but Gwyneth will have a dowry in coin, jewellery, plate and linen. She has good health, too. Would she have Blanche for a companion? Our Gwennie will be nineteen this year, but Blanche is younger, surely.”

  “Seventeen. She may not be at Allerbrook much longer, but I hope she’ll be near at hand. Her family held the lease of Clicket Hall but we own it, so it wasn’t confiscated with the rest of her property. I intend it to be her dowry. It has tenants just now, but only on short leases. I hope Blanche will always be close by. In fact, I’m thinking to marry her to Stephen. It’s a way of providing for him and settling them both.”

  Frances considered, her head on one side. “We originally planned to marry Gwennie into another merchant family. Isn’t that so, Idwal? In fact, we’d chosen the young man—the eldest son of a family in Bristol. But…”

  “Mediterranean pirates,” said Idwal shortly. “He was lost last year. I think Tobias sounds suitable, Cousin Jane.”

  “We must arrange for her and Tobias to meet,” said Frances. “They haven’t seen each other for years. I hope they’ll like each other. We wouldn’t force her into a marriage against her will.”

  “Gwennie’s a biddable girl,” Idwal said. “She has my red hair but not my explosive nature, and though we’ve never seen much of Tobias, what we’ve seen we’ve liked, I agree.”

  “I’m sorry we’ve met so rarely over the years,” Jane said. “But after my brother sent Sybil here, he wanted to keep us apart, and then I came and removed Stephen and—well, I suppose your parents were offended.”

  She did not add that for her part, she had never wanted to set eyes on Katherine or Owen again because she couldn’t forget Stephen’s sticklike legs and the feel of his thin body in her arms. This was not a time to stir up old, bad feelings.

  “It wasn’t so much a matter of taking offence,” said Idwal, “as feeling awkward. I think they didn’t know quite how to behave toward you. Still, that’s all in the past now. Families shouldn’t be estranged.”

  Beyond the windows, gulls drifted on the gusty winds, calling in plaintive voices, their white wings flashing in the sun. Sensible people, however, did not envy seagulls. Sensible people sat in well-kept parlours and made wise arrangements for the young folk in their care. The three adults nodded to each other, satisfied with the plans they had laid.

  On the barrow high above Allerbrook, Tobias and Blanche at last ended what was surely the longest and sweetest kiss in history. They made their way down from the barrow and then, without speaking, he took her hand and together, utterly at one and utterly at peace, they began to walk back to the house.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Threefold Resolution

  1560

  Jane, riding homeward over the moorland tracks with Tim Snowe as her escort, was happy. When they reached Allerbrook, she left the ponies to Tim and Paul and went into the hall, where she found a pleasant, homely scene. Her three young people were talking and laughing around the hearth, Lisa, though aged now and equipped with strong eyeglasses, was stitching in a window seat and there was an enticing aroma of supper in the air.

  From the kitchen came a clatter of pans and the sound of cheerful female voices. Not Peggy’s voice. Peggy had died three years before. But Beth and Letty were still here and Susie Snowe had returned to work in the house when her children were grown, bringing her daughter Phoebe with her. Phoebe was married and her husband, Mark Edwardes, was an Allerbrook ploughman. Paul Snowe was married, too, and his pretty young Nell, from Clicket, was also among the chatterers in the kitchen. Jane, looking and listening and holding her momentous news in readiness, felt the greatest affection for them all.

  Momentous news should be broken at the right moment, however. She did not want to disturb this amiable domestic atmosphere by speaking of serious matters at once.

  Instead, she merely answered questions about her visit by saying that yes, it had been pleasant to see the Lanyons again and that they all hoped the two households would meet more often in the future. After supper, however, she said, “Blanche—and Tobias and Stephen—I have news for the three of you. Come up to the parlour. I’ve asked Phoebe to light a fire and put candles there.”

  In the parlour she bade them all sit down, settled herself on a window seat and told them of the plans that had been made that day.

  “Idwal and Frances suggest, Tobias, that you should visit them soon and talk to Gwyneth. You haven’t seen her since you came back from London and you didn’t know her well even before that. I spoke to her before I came away, though, and she says she remembers you and is happy with the idea. She is a charming girl. Blanche and Stephen, of course, do know each other well. It has always seemed to me that the two of you liked each other. So, what do you all say?”

  She smiled brightly around at them, although throughout her little speech she had been increasingly aware that something was amiss. Eyes had not lit up, mouths had not begun to smile, as she had expected. Instead, all three faces had become oddly wary. Now, as she awaited comments, a dreadful silence had fallen.

  “Well?” she said impatiently, at length. “What is it? Will somebody please say something?”

  “When you came home, Aunt Jane,” said Stephen, “Blanche and Tobias were telling me something. I appreciate the offer you are making me and I’d like to accept it—”

  “Stephen!” gasped Blanche, while Tobias sat up straight and clenched his fists.

  “No, Blanche, sweetheart, it’s all right. Tobias, lower your hackles. I only meant that I’d be honoured to accept Blanche’s hand if it were available. But it isn’t. I’m sorry, Aunt Jane, but you really should have discussed this with us before you went to Lynmouth.”

  “Stephen, what do you mean?”

  Tobias cleared his throat. “He means,” he said, “that today, up on the barrow on the ridge, Blanche and I betrothed ourselves to each other. We love each other. Blanche only realized it today, but I—well, when I went away, I thought of her only as a sister. But when I came home again and saw her with new eyes, I knew almost at once that I loved her. I was waiting for the right moment to approach her and today that moment came, and now I find to my joy that she loves me. If you had spoken to us beforehand, I could have warned you.”

  “You said just now that the Lanyons don’t want to compel Gwyneth into marriage,” said Blanche. “Please don’t compel me, either. I think of Stephen as a brother. It’s Tobias that I want.”

  “And I want Blanche,” Tobias said. He reached out for her hand and took it into his. “And,” he added, “I mean to have her.”

  Jane stared at her son. It was as though she had never seen him clearly before. He had always been just her Tobias, whom she sometimes called Toby—quiet, inclined to piety, with soft hair that had to be kept short or it would fall into the brown eyes that were so like her own. A good, obedient son. Now something hard was emerging from him, like one of the rocky outcrops on the moor. The set of his jaw was belligerent. He reminded her suddenly of his father, Harry Hudd.

  “What am I to do?” she said. “I have reached an agreement with the Lanyons!”

  The silence that followed this was eloquent. No one repeated the phrase if you had spoken to us beforehand, but she heard it inside her head.

  For a brief but awful moment she was angry. It was the duty of pa
rents and guardians to settle young people in life. She had tried to do her duty, and heaven knows she had considered everyone’s happiness. She wasn’t trying to thrust Blanche into bed with a red-faced old man with bad breath and half his teeth gone, which was what Francis had done to her. She wasn’t asking Tobias to marry a girl with a crooked spine or a shrewish temper. She had done her best to plan wisely and responsibly.

  Oh, Peter, what would you say to this? Sir Peter Carew, she knew, had come back to England even before Queen Mary’s death, because his wife had worked hard for his reinstatement. He was high, now, in the favour of the young Queen Elizabeth, and news of him reached her sometimes, for he was Deputy Lieutenant of Devon. But he had never come near her, never even contacted her by letter. He had held fast to his sound, practical marriage. He understood how marriages should be planned.

  In the eyes of many, she was entitled to be firm, to say that she had made good arrangements and that they must stand. People would think her perfectly justified in locking Blanche up with just bread and water or even beating her, in order to insist.

  It would be useless, of course. It wouldn’t make Stephen agree to marry Blanche or Tobias agree to marry Gwyneth. Judging by the expression on Toby’s face now, he was capable not only of saying no, but saying it directly to the Lanyons and possibly launching a new family feud.

  Besides…she knew what being compelled was like. In any case, Jane couldn’t imagine herself taking harsh action against the girl.

  But as the silence went on and on, it occurred to her that they were probably fond of her and that none of them was stupid. She had startled them. They hadn’t had time to think. This unsuspected attachment between Toby and Blanche was very recent. It might not yet be deep-rooted.

  Stephen was the first to break the hush. “I am not going to argue,” he said. “Tobias and I have disagreed often enough, but we’re not going to squabble over Blanche here. She’s not something for sale in a cattle market. I’d have taken you gladly if you were agreeable, Blanche, but I wouldn’t want an unwilling bride. That’s no recipe for happiness.”

  “I think,” said Jane, “that we should not go on discussing this now. You three should have time to consider, to talk to each other. Leave me now, all of you. Ask Lisa to come up to me.”

  Without a word more, all three of them went.

  Lisa, making her way up the spiral staircase to the parlour a little later, arrived somewhat breathless, as she always did these days after tackling it, and reported that Stephen, Blanche and Tobias were once more gathered around the hall fire, deep in earnest conversation.

  “Master Stephen’s doing most of the talking. Dr. Spenlove was with them for a while but they sent him off, said they wanted to be private together. He’s gone to bed, I think. What’s going on, ma’am?”

  Jane, who had been sitting with her hands in her lap, raised them despairingly and then let them drop. “I’ve been trying to arrange marriages for them all. But…”

  And then, without warning, she burst into tears. Lisa came to her, sitting down beside her and taking her hands and rubbing them as if to warm them. “I thought I was doing right!” Jane sobbed. “I thought they’d be glad, pleased. I thought I was making wise plans for them!”

  “When you were at Rixons, living there, I mean, you reared ducklings, didn’t you?” Lisa let Jane’s hands go, found a handkerchief in her reticule and handed it over.

  “Yes, there’s a duck pond,” Jane agreed, wiping her eyes. “But why are you talking about ducks?”

  “Ever put a clutch of duck eggs under a hen?”

  “Lisa, you’re not talking sense!”

  “Yes, I am, ma’am. Well, did you?”

  “Yes, sometimes, if we had a broody hen and duck eggs to spare. But what on earth…?”

  “Hens get upset when their little ducklings go off into the water. They get agitated and cackle. But the ducklings go just the same, following their nature. Seems to me that young folk these days follow their own nature, too. Best leave them be.”

  Jane heaved a sigh. “I’ve left them to talk. Perhaps after a while they’ll see things differently.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” said Lisa.

  Lying in bed that night, Jane longed for sleep, but her legs and back ached. She was no longer young. The ride to and from Lynmouth had been a strain. Nothing could stop the advance of the years.

  Sleep wasn’t elusive just because of the twinges, though. It was also because of her disappointment. She had expected pleasure, interest, questions. Not those appalling, frozen silences!

  She sank at last into a thin doze, but just after midnight a small sound started her out of it. She lay listening. There was a low murmur of voices, and then soft laughter. Jane sat up sharply.

  Her bedchamber was between two smaller rooms. Lisa occupied one; Blanche had the other. The sound had come from Blanche’s.

  There had been a fire in Jane’s hearth the evening before and its red embers were still glowing. She got into an overgown, lit a candle at the hearth and went out.

  Originally all the bedchambers had led directly into each other, but when the wing was rebuilt by Jane’s father, he had said that he saw no reason why anyone who wished to sleep early should have to put up with people walking through their rooms and disturbing them. Now the bedchambers opened into a passageway, which ran the length of the wing. Here Jane stopped to listen again, before moving to Blanche’s door. Yes, the voices came from here. Without knocking, she walked in.

  The curtains around Blanche’s bed were fully closed, but the voices undoubtedly came from within them. Jane marched forward, jerked the hangings apart and stood there, candle in hand. Blanche and Tobias, lying side by side, sat up with a jerk, eyes wide with alarm.

  “I see,” said Jane. “All too clearly.”

  There were footsteps behind her and a brightening of the light. Lisa, also carrying a candle, had followed her into the room, and behind Lisa was Stephen, similarly equipped. Hard on Stephen’s heels was Dr. Spenlove, blinking and half-asleep. They clustered around the bed.

  “What’s going on?” Stephen demanded. “I heard a noise…dear God, what are you doing here, Toby?”

  “It seems plain enough to me!” Lisa snapped at him.

  “I agree,” Stephen said. “That was a silly question. Well, well. This seems to be the end of all discussion about who is going to marry whom. I’m sorry, Aunt Jane, but though I will always be fond of Blanche, I must withdraw what I said about being willing to marry her, if she were agreeable, too. I can’t possibly do that now, even to please you. She may be already with child by him, for all we know!”

  “They will have to marry,” said Spenlove. “I will wed them myself in the morning if you wish, ma’am.”

  “You…you…!” Jane could not remember ever being so angry in her life. She stepped close to the bed and would have struck Blanche except that Stephen’s hand shot out and caught her wrist.

  “Please don’t, Aunt Jane. It isn’t the end of the world. She and Toby are a perfectly suitable match. You’re not concerned about her dowry, surely. Toby has enough.”

  “I wanted to marry her to you, to give you a place in the world, property!” Jane stared furiously at her nephew. “I made these arrangements because they were best for all three of you, including you! How can you be so blind to your own interests?”

  “I’ll make my way,” said Stephen calmly. He released her wrist and looked at Blanche and Tobias. “Should I say something formal? Bless you, my dear children, or something like that?”

  “How can you make jokes about this?” Jane cried, and then once more she was really crying, the tears streaming down her face. Through them she had the oddest impression that Stephen and the two culprits in the bed were exchanging glances that she didn’t understand, that looked conspiratorial, but the need to get herself and her pathetic outburst of emotion out of their sight came first and stopped her from thinking about it.

  She ordered Tobias ba
ck to his own room, saw him go and then turned away and let Lisa guide her back to her own bed. Spenlove, shaking his head and murmuring about the shamelessness of the younger generation, pottered away to his chamber. Lisa saw Jane into bed and then went down to the kitchen, to return with a warm wine posset.

  “Don’t fret too much, ma’am,” she said. “It will work out well in the end.”

  “But I wanted to do something for Stephen! I had that in mind all the time!” Jane was still shedding tears. They splashed into the posset.

  “Well, can’t you? You were going to make Clicket Hall and its land over to Blanche when she married. Can’t you make it over to Stephen instead? Blanche is getting Allerbrook along with Tobias. She’ll be none the worse. Give Clicket Hall to Stephen outright,” said Lisa. “He’s your sister’s son.”

  In the morning, dressed in her best velvet gown, with her face washed and her dignity restored, Jane summoned the recalcitrant younger generation into the hall before breakfast and there, in the presence also of Dr. Spenlove and Lisa, she formally accepted their threefold resolution and told them that she would arrange for banns to be called for the marriage of Tobias and Blanche. “I’ll go to St. Anne’s today and see Mr. Honeywood,” she told them.

  She would have liked to hear Father Drew’s opinion but Drew, old and tired, had gone to sleep one evening a few months previously and failed to wake in the morning. Young Reverend William Honeywood was his replacement.

  “All must look normal in the eyes of our neighbours,” Jane told her hearers. “Dr. Spenlove would marry you privately and at once, but that would start gossip. Tobias and Blanche, you will behave yourselves meanwhile. No more midnight wanderings, if you please. Lisa, you will share Blanche’s room, small though it is. Stephen, I can’t offer you Gwyneth Lanyon in place of Blanche, because…well…”

  For the first time during this solemn speech, Jane faltered. Stephen grinned. “I know. The Lanyons still think of me as the tiresome child Idwal’s parents didn’t really want to adopt. And I don’t like red hair, anyway.”