Prosper suddenly became solemn and pointed a finger threateningly at his nephew.
‘Listen, Guy, and listen well. If anybody in this family, or neighbourhood, no matter who, ever hears the truth about this woman I intend to make my wife, I will see that you suffer for it. The news about the unfortunate Agnes Yetman will immediately be relayed to your wife, as will every other indiscretion of yours I have ever heard of. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Why, er, yes.’ Gingerly Guy massaged his Adam’s apple. ‘I never intended for one minute, Prosper, I assure you ... I was thinking that if you ...’
‘That is all I have to say to you,’ Prosper said in the same low, harsh voice. ‘And remember, Guy, it will be the end of you. Not the end of me, because I have resources sufficient to protect Lally and myself from any breath of scandal. You have none. Understood?’
‘Understood,’ Guy muttered feebly, and as his uncle strode off in the direction of his fiancée Guy remained by the river bank, staring glumly in front of him, his hands clasped behind his back.
The day after the party, everyone in the Yetman household was up early, clearing up the debris from the celebrations the night before. With outside help the marquee was rapidly dismantled, and all the remnants of food and drink put into sacks and loaded on to carts which were trundled off to the rubbish tip outside the town. The grass was badly trampled, and parts of it deeply scoured and blackened to show that the fire-eater was no trickster. Not only did he eat fire, he had expelled it too. A miracle-maker indeed, but now he had gone on his way with the dancing bears and the sword-swallower, the clown and the juggler, to dazzle people in other towns and villages around the country with their magical skills.
Eliza and Ryder were sitting over a late breakfast watching the servants and their helpers finishing their work, when they saw a horseman approaching the gate. After letting himself in, he walked with the horse up the drive. Seeing him, one of the grooms ran over to take the bridle from the visitor and lead the horse round to the stable to rub it down and water it.
‘It’s Julius Heering,’ Ryder exclaimed, getting to his feet. ‘I wonder what brings him here?’
Eliza didn’t reply but watched Julius, dressed in riding clothes, as he took a leisurely look round at the scene of the previous night’s party before turning towards the house. She knew very little about Margaret’s brother, except that he was a widower and had greatly strengthened the Heering-Martyn fortunes since he had taken Guy’s place at the bank. ‘Taken Guy’s place’ was, however, a misnomer, because whereas Guy had no business ability at all, Julius had a great deal.
He was a tall, reserved, distinguished-looking man just a little older than Margaret, and not unlike his sister in many ways. What was ungainly in a woman was strength in a man, and his solid Dutch looks, his dignified, erect bearing and rather grave manner gave him an air of authority, the demeanour of one used to giving orders and instantly being obeyed.
Eliza rather liked him, although she didn’t know him very well, and as he came towards the door she rose and went out with Ryder to greet him.
They shook hands warmly, and after thanking them for the party he looked round the lawn and commented on the complete change of scene from that of a few hours before.
‘A very efficient organisation you have here,’ he said.
‘Well, it is our home, not a fairground,’ Ryder replied with a smile, politely indicating that Julius should precede him into the house.
‘It was a wonderful party,’ Julius said. ‘It had all the best qualities of a fair and an entertainment. We have such things in Holland, with strolling players and a variety of acts and diversions.’
‘We’re having rather a late breakfast,’ Eliza said, explaining the disorder around them. ‘Ryder never thinks anyone can do anything without him, so he was up first thing this morning giving orders.’
‘It is quite true,’ Ryder said. ‘Had I not been there they would just be about to pull down the marquee.’
‘A man after my own heart.’ Julius slapped him on the back. ‘In fact this is just the sort of thing I wish to talk to you about.’
‘Oh, you’re planning an entertainment?’ Ryder gazed at him in surprise.
‘Not exactly,’ Julius laughed. ‘I’m planning to build a house, and I think you’re the man to take charge out for me.’
‘I think then that you probably wish to discuss business by yourselves,’ Eliza murmured as they entered the sun-filled morning room, where the remnants of breakfast lay on the table. ‘I’ll have coffee sent in.’
‘Please, Mrs Yetman –’ Julius put an arm out to stop her ‘– I would like you to be present at the discussions too.
‘But how can I help?’ She looked surprised. Julius’s expression was enigmatic.
‘I would like you to hear what I have to say. It concerns you too,’ he said.
‘Very well.’ As the maid appeared at that moment Eliza gave orders for coffee. Julius Heering refused anything else.
‘Just coffee for me, please,’ he said. ‘And do finish your breakfast which I’ve interrupted.’
‘I think we’ve finished.’ Ryder sat down at the table. ‘Now what plans do you have in mind, Mr Heering?’
‘I think we know one another well enough for Christian names, don’t you?’ the Dutchman said with a smile. ‘After all, Eliza and I are practically related by marriage.’
‘How long are you staying at Pelham’s Oak?’ Eliza asked.
‘A few days. I like to see my sister, nephews and niece, and of course I have been looking at property in the area. However, as I have found nothing suitable I’ve decided to build. I think I have got a good piece of land about ten miles from here.’
‘In which direction?’ Ryder asked with interest.
‘Between Sherborne and Dorchester.’
‘Oh, well within my sphere.’
‘I understand that your concern has grown quite large. I’m sure you’re the man to do it for me.’
‘And if it has a thatch he will do it himself,’ Eliza said with a smile. ‘It’s his hobby. He is a master thatcher.’
She looked up as the maid entered with the coffee on a tray and cleared the table in front of her so that she could pour.
‘I think the roof will be too large to thatch,’ Julius replied. ‘I have in mind a substantial house made of brick and tiled. But that we can discuss by and by. If you’re interested, Ryder, we could drive over and see the site I have in mind before I purchase it.’
‘Excellent.’ Ryder rubbed his hands together.
‘And maybe you would like to come too, Eliza? Your opinion would be invaluable.’
‘I have too much to do,’ she said. ‘Really. But I’m flattered you asked.’
‘Do you want to go now?’ Ryder enquired, leaping up.
‘Why, do you have the time?’ Julius looked excited.
‘I could make time. If we take my carriage and pair we shall be there in half an hour.’
‘Then maybe you’ll come back to dinner?’ Eliza was giving the signal to the maid who had entered to clear the table.
‘Well, it’s most kind ...’
‘It would give you the chance to talk more business, if you agree upon the site.’
Eliza then smiled at them and left the room.
‘I like your wife very much,’ Julius told Ryder after she’d gone. ‘She is so practical, yet she’s beautiful too.’
‘I’m a lucky man,’ Ryder agreed, beginning to fill his pipe. ‘Sometimes I wonder if such happiness can last.’
‘Well, whatever you do,’ Julius produced his own meerschaum and began lighting it, ‘make the most of it. Happiness is short.’
The sadness in his eyes left Ryder in no doubt that he was thinking of his dead wife, and the brief time together that was all that had been granted them.
Later at dinner the two men were so excited about the site Julius had shown Ryder that they had already begun to sketch plans for the house. The offer for
the property had gone in immediately they arrived back together, and as Julius had an option to purchase there was little doubt that the deal would soon be completed.
The men were bubbling with ideas and seemed scarcely to notice the excellent meal set before them. The walnut table in the dining room, lit with candles and decorated with flowers, was the setting for the fine but simple fare that Eliza had ordered as soon as her husband and his guest had set out. Home-made soup, a leg of lamb from the butcher in the High Street, vegetables freshly picked from the garden, newly baked bread, apple pie and cheese, two bottles of claret.
Julius’s would be a large house – a magnificent one if the sketches were anything to go by. It had a Dutch look about it, which was perhaps inevitable. Built of red brick with gables and turrets, it would have about ten bedrooms, four reception rooms, stables and outbuildings, with grounds occupying all in all about fifty acres.
‘Why is it you love Dorset so much?’ Eliza asked, leaning over the table to see the sketches.
‘It reminds me of my home.’ Julius sat back and sighed. ‘It is also not too far from London.’ His expression was melancholy. ‘Ever since the death of my dear wife I have been a restless man, constantly moving back and forth, but reluctant to return to Holland for too long because it is full of sad memories, of her and the happiness I have lost.’
‘Maybe you will, in time, marry again,’ Eliza suggested, hoping not to offend him by her remark.
‘If it is the will of God,’ the Dutchman said piously. ‘But so far it has never crossed my mind to replace my sweet Sofia. It would seem like a betrayal of her memory to marry again. But who knows ...’
‘Why such a large house then?’ Ryder voiced the question that Eliza had toyed with too in her own mind.
‘Well, it is an elegant house, is it not? Not too large to be uncomfortable, yet big enough to entertain the many business friends and acquaintances I have made in the City. The shooting, they say, is excellent, and there is fishing at the bottom of the garden. It is a house for a gentleman, and I shall be proud to live there.’
Coffee was taken in the drawing room, where once again the plans were spread on a table and studied by the two men while Eliza sat in the background. Julius was usually grave and unsmiling, no matter what the occasion. Eliza had never seen him so animated, and she felt that probably the reason was that at last he had found a hobby, something to take his mind off the death of Sofia. When he was animated he looked quite different from the City financier with little small talk, his chief concern being money matters.
Now, as he described his new house, one saw a man of taste and imagination, and when he began to dwell on the pictures he would hang in it from his collection in Amsterdam he revealed himself to be a connoisseur of art as well.
She thought he held a certain fascination, and wondered that he had evaded for so long the temptation to marry again; there must have been a number of women pleasing enough, and eager to be his wife.
Her thoughts turned to Prosper and the bewitching Mrs Bowyer. Maybe Julius, too, had a secret mistress in London and the house was to be somewhere where he could entertain her. It was a temptation to talk about Mrs Bowyer, whom Eliza had liked, but it seemed indiscreet until Julius brought the matter up himself when the plans of the house were finally laid aside.
‘And how do you like the future Mrs Prosper Martyn?’ he enquired, eyebrows suggestively raised.
‘Oh, Mrs Bowyer,’ Eliza said a little guiltily, wondering if he had been able to read her mind. ‘We thought her charming. Had you met her before?’
‘Frequently. She acts as his hostess when he entertains. I don’t think she knows much about cooking herself, but she presides most gracefully at his table. She is a great asset to him.’
‘Did you know her husband?’ Ryder asked without thinking.
‘Husband?’ Julius looked vague.
‘Prosper said she was a wealthy widow.’
‘Ah!’ Julius endeavoured to look discreet. ‘No, I don’t think I had the pleasure. I believe he passed away some years ago.
Now – ‘he started to rise ‘– there is just one thing. I should have thought of it before, but it has been such a pleasant day, and I’m afraid I was so full of my own concerns that I almost forgot.’ He sat down again, clearing his throat. ‘Ryder, the mention of Prosper Martyn reminds me that I believe he asked some time ago if you would be interested in joining the board of our company?’
‘Yes, he did,’ Ryder said, with a glance at Eliza, ‘and I refused.’
‘Is there any point in asking you again?’
‘No,’ Eliza said emphatically and then, a hand to her mouth, looked at Ryder. ‘I’m sorry, my dear, but you know how I feel ...’
‘Ah, you are the one against it, Eliza?’ Julius gave Ryder a shrewd look. ‘On what grounds?’
‘On the grounds that we are happy as we are. That we have enough money and the business is doing well. Why should he want to travel up to the City?’
‘We could do with his brains. He is an excellent man of business. I knew that from Prosper, but it was confirmed today. He grasps very quickly everything one says. It would be to our advantage as much as his. Are you still opposed to it, Eliza?’
‘Yes. I feel now just as I did then.’
‘And Ryder?’ Julius looked at him enquiringly. ‘Are you governed by what your wife says?’
‘No, not governed –’ Ryder seemed on the defensive ‘– but guided. It is her life too, after all. She is quite right in saying that we have sufficient for our needs, and that I can do without the problems of a large business.’
‘They would be shared.’
‘My brothers are also included,’ Ryder went on. ‘They each have a share in the company.’
‘Each has a share?’ Julius said in alarm. ‘So if it comes to it you are outvoted?’
‘No, my father has a share. We are two and two, but usually my brothers leave the business to us and just help themselves to a share of the profits or the dividends.’
‘But if something were to happen to your father, or even to you, your brothers would control the company?’ Julius appeared genuinely concerned.
‘If they wanted to, yes.’ Ryder looked puzzled. ‘But it is not likely to happen. We do not fight. They are content, and so are my father and I. I am, thank God, in good health, able bodied, not likely to die just yet, and there seems no reason to change the structure.’
‘As a man of business,’ Julius said, pressing his hands together in an attitude of prayer, ‘I would be most anxious if that structure were to continue. It leaves your family in a very vulnerable position. If your father dies or, God forbid, if something were to happen to you, your brothers could snatch away the business, sell it, dismantle it, or do what they liked with it. If Eliza were widowed she could be left very badly off.’
‘Oh!’ Eliza cried, getting briskly to her feet, irritated by the turn the conversation had taken, ‘what a gloomy way to end the evening. Can’t we talk of something else?’
‘I’ll think about it,’ Ryder promised Julius. ‘We’ll have plenty of time to go into the pros and cons in the next few months if we are to build your house.
‘I can’t tell you how much I am looking forward to it.’
16
Ryder Yetman was a happy man, a fulfilled man. Sometimes he felt he lacked for nothing, and wondered why he had been so blessed; why had he been singled out for such good fortune? In many ways, despite his love for his wife and family, he was a solitary man, a countryman, and in his travels around the county inspecting his various projects and building sites he had much time to ruminate upon his life.
He was married to a woman whom he not only loved but who was a companion and partner. He had three healthy children of a happy disposition, he had all the work that he needed, no debts and no known enemies.
Why then was there this feeling, which increased as the years went uneventfully by, that there was something lacking in his life? Was it
that at times his fortune seemed too good and something – just a little something – was needed to spoil it so that he could appreciate it more?
Ryder Yetman would never knowingly have put himself in the path of temptation, or ever attempted to cause the smallest amount of distress to his wife. Yet he was human and he was the son of Adam. And as Adam fell, so he was tempted to fall too. At the time, however, he didn’t know it; nor could he possibly have foreseen what it would lead to.
Maybe it was Eliza’s implacable opposition to an expansion of his business that made him conscious of her possessiveness, her power over him, and he came to resent it. It was as though she were the leader, the man of the family, and not him. Julius Martyn had suggested as much by asking him if he was governed by his wife.
It happened very gradually over many months, even years, while he was building the magnificent house that Julius Heering would name after his native city. Amsterdam Hoos might seem a rather misleading, indeed even comical, name in the middle of the Dorset countryside, but after it was built and Julius had moved in, everyone would soon come to realise what it was and, above all, where. There would never be any problems about finding him or directing people to him.
‘Amsterdam? Why, zur,’ would reply an enlightened yokel, ‘‘tis foive miles beyond Dorchester just off the Sherborne Road.’
The house took quite a long time to build. Even when its shell was finished, there were a number of things Julius wished to be done to the interior that postponed the time when he could even contemplate moving into it. Armies of decorators, designers of all kinds, descended on the house from London, or came over from The Hague or Amsterdam, bringing with them wallpapers, patterns, swatches of cloth, ceramic tiles, catalogues, and ideas for an interior that would be unusual enough to rival anything in the county of Dorset, possibly even the whole of the south of England.
Of course, it would not be to everyone’s taste. Many people considered it too modern. Gone were the trappings of Victoriana, and in their place was the lightness and airiness of an altogether different style, the flaccid elegance of art nouveau. Heavy walnut, oak and mahogany were replaced by softer woods like beech, afromosia and cedar. The interior had more of the clarity and sparseness of a painting by Vermeer. Some people liked it and others didn’t. But as it took shape it was much talked about, and people came from all over the county to try and get a glimpse of it.
The People of This Parish (Part One of The People of this Parish Saga) Page 36