by Janet Woods
‘Of course he did not. The moment Edward set eyes on you, he had time for nobody else.’ Which was not exactly the whole truth, but the nearest Elizabeth could come to it. Edward’s heart had been constant, if not his urges. ‘Now, let’s go downstairs. We shall take some refreshment and I will tell you what occurred here that terrible day. Edward had come to see me about renegotiating the lease agreement on this house, I believe. At the time, as you know, my life was in peril, and it was Edward who paid the consequences, an event which has been on my conscience ever since. But even so, I’m glad he got home alive. He was so desperate to be with you.’
By the time Elizabeth finished speaking, some of the colour had returned to her cheeks and the sparkle to her eyes, as if the unburdening had done her good. They cried a little over Edward together, sharing their grief for the death of a man they’d both loved, and parted the best of friends again.
Two months later, the Countess of Kylchester came to call. With her were Pansy and Maryse Matheson.
As they waited in the drawing room for their tea to arrive, Siana thought: What would you make of this then, Ma? Your daughter putting on airs and graces and entertaining a countess to tea.
‘How are you coping, my dear?’ the countess said and, without looking around or drawing a second breath, warned, ‘A young lady should not fidget, Pansy Matheson. Kindly desist at once.’
When the girl stifled a giggle, Siana grinned at her.
The countess shrugged. ‘My dear, boys are much less bothersome to raise. Give them a horse, a strict tutor and a good thrashing from time to time and they behave quite beautifully.’
‘Papa said boys have no brains,’ Pansy offered.
‘He remembers being a brainless boy himself, no doubt,’ the countess said caustically, and turned a cool eye on Maryse. ‘Do stop picking at the seam of your glove, otherwise you will have to spend all day tomorrow repairing it.’
Maryse blushed and dropped her hands into her lap.
Siana felt sorry for them. So much energy and nowhere to expend it. ‘It’s a fine day. I will send for my young sister and the nursery maid can take the young ladies on a tour of the grounds, whilst we keep watch from the window.’
It was not long before the girls were running off down the path. The countess smiled at her. ‘When is your child expected?’
‘In February, my lady.’
‘Edward Forbes was a rogue marrying someone as young as you.’
‘I loved him,’ she said, jumping instantly to his defence.
The countess laughed. ‘Of course you loved him. All gels love a man as wicked in his ways as Edward. Were you a virgin when you took your vows?’
Siana’s eyes flew wide open and she gave a nervous laugh. ‘Uh . . . why yes.’
‘He must have sensed you were just right for the plucking. Edward liked a little debauchery, I believe. Tell me, my dear, was he as wicked in the bedchamber as they say?’
She leaned forward when Siana blushed, saying softly, ‘Ah . . . you see, spring and autumn. You were full of rising sap and malleable. Edward needed to plant his seed in fertile ground. How lovely you are, my dear. No wonder he chose you over Isabelle. As for Francis, he’s totally captivated by you.’
Siana’s blush became a fire in her cheeks. ‘Francis is my friend.’
‘Nonsense! Francis is in love with you. It’s as plain as the nose on my face.’
Siana giggled, for the countess’s nose was rather noticeable, in fact.
The countess grimaced. ‘I’m not so fearsome as I pretend to be and you shall call me Prudence when we are alone. I was totally misnamed, of course. Do you intend to marry Francis when he asks you? It’s about time he had a wife to warm his bed.’
Her forthright manner was rather disconcerting. Siana’s smile faded and she grew sad again. ‘My husband has not long died. It’s too soon to consider—’
‘Yes . . . yes . . . I understand convention all too well, but you’re young. Once the child is born, you will crave the touch of a man again. Francis will sense that and he’ll act on it. See, here he is now. He hasn’t seen us yet. When he does, we will watch him smile, as he does every time he mentions your name.’
His girls intercepted him, dashing out from the trees to stop his horse.
He dismounted and hugged them tight against him.
Daisy freed herself from the grasp of the nursery maid, dashing after them to clasp tight to his knees. He swung her up to ride on his shoulders and the four of them started up the drive with the horse and maid following behind.
Francis glanced up and caught sight of them at the window. There was a moment of stillness in him. His eyes sought her out and he smiled – a slow, beautiful smile full of yearning.
‘There,’ Prudence said, almost purring with satisfaction. ‘I told you so. He’s in love with you.’
And Siana could only hope she was right, because if Francis never smiled like that at her again she knew she would die.
23
Time passed quickly for Siana.
Her childhood had made her aware of the basic facts of farming. She knew which crops were planted when, and the finer points of such essentials as muck spreading and harvesting.
She consulted regularly with the estate steward, Jed Hawkins. Although they didn’t always agree, because Hawkins had been Edward’s man since a young age and had absorbed Edward’s overbearing attitude towards the local peasantry, he did make workable some of her suggestions. He managed to overturn her demand for a two-shilling raise in wages, though, and after a fierce argument in which he reminded her she was a trustee for Edward’s unborn child, they’d compromised on one shilling a week and an extra pair of boots for the labourers.
Unbeknown to Hawkins, Siana came to an arrangement with her own midwife, which was to attend to the birth and after-care of those labourers’ wives who wished to take advantage of her services. The midwife had been recommended by Francis, which was good enough for her. The service was paid for from the allowance Edward had left her.
There was a trickle of visitors that autumn, as if the women who’d ignored her when Edward lived were now eager to make amends. Most of them were tedious to entertain. It took Siana a while to realize their displeasure had been aimed at Edward, not her. The fact that he’d dared elevate a peasant to their ranks had not sat well with them. Now they had found her to be civilized, after all, they were curious about her.
As Christmas approached her baby grew in strength. Her belly swelled.
‘It’s growing as fat as a churn full of butter,’ the midwife said. She took Siana’s hands in hers and guided them over her stomach, using pressure to indicate. ‘That there’s its head. It should be pushed out first and will be the hardest and most painful part of the birth. Here’s the curve of its back and its little arse. The legs be tucked under most of the time.’
Her infant surged against her palm and she laughed. ‘He’s kicking me.’
The midwife smiled. ‘You’re sure it’s going to be a lad, then. Have you thought of a name?’
‘Ashley Edward shall be his main names, and Joshua after my brother.’
Her mind full with the impending birth of her infant, Siana added little pieces to the layette and had the nursery wing redecorated.
Josh called in from time to time. He brought her gossip. Ben Collins had wed Isabelle a month after Hannah’s death. Shortly afterwards, Isabelle had given birth to a baby.
‘A girl it were. Took everyone by surprise, except her. With all that flesh on her nobody knowed she had a belly full. Not like you, our Siana. You looks like a cow in clover.’
‘And I feel like one.’
‘Gonna be right handy being related to the next squire, especially if you calls him after me,’ he said proudly.
‘Not if you’re still stealing his fish.’
Josh cocked his head to one side. ‘’Tis only a few trout and it’s not me who’s takin’ ’em.’
‘But you’re makin’ money out o
f the theft. That’s the same thing. If they were being stolen to feed the poor, I might turn a blind eye to it, but they’re not.’
Shrugging, Josh said cockily, ‘Whatcher going to do about it, sis? Rat on your own brother? Nah, you haven’t got it in you.’
Siana smiled and said nothing.
The next time Josh came back from market, his cart was confiscated by Jed Hawkins and he was forced to ride astride Jasper to get back to Poole.
Told to collect the cart from the side entrance a week hence, when he returned his nostrils were assailed by the strong smell of rotting fish. The secret compartment had been filled with trout and nailed shut.
‘Who would have thought it of it but Siana?’ he murmured, grinning at his sister’s simple solution.
But it worked. On the way back to Poole, and for weeks afterwards, he was followed by a cloud of flies and felt sick every time he went near the cart.
Gruffydd Evans was as strong as he’d ever been. He hadn’t experienced a seizure in weeks. As his body had filled out, his mind was filled with the burning desire to take the message of the Lord to the people again.
His good friend, Richard White, had promised him the pulpit on Sunday. Worldly goods meant nothing to him, but for the sake of his daughter – whose grief at the funeral of her husband had torn his heart apart – he intended to preach of love.
The reverend sang his praise to Siana when he visited. ‘Gruffydd has regained his health and will be leaving the district shortly after the sermon.’
She nodded. ‘I’ll be there, Richard.’
‘I was thinking that perhaps I should do something to honour Edward. Do you have any wishes regarding this?’
‘He was a vain man who’d have preferred to have been honoured grandly.’ She smiled at Richard’s surprise, then said gently. ‘You know that to be the truth. Is there room for a window to his memory?’
‘There are several plain windows which could be replaced.’
‘He was a brave man. He honoured me by making me his wife. He then lost his life saving Elizabeth’s. Would St George rescuing a maiden from a dragon be inappropriate?’
‘How very apt. You are a good girl, Siana. Sometimes I felt guilty keeping Daniel’s letters from you, but it all turned out for the best.’
She drew in a deep breath. So he had kept Daniel’s letters from her? ‘It was wrong of you to interfere. Did Edward put you up to it?’
Richard nodded miserably. ‘He loved you. He wanted you for himself.’
‘He wanted me for his mistress. How could you countenance such an action? I trusted you, Richard. Didn’t you stop to think how hurtful it might be to both Daniel and myself, or the danger you put me and my sister in? Do you still have the letters?’
He shook his head. ‘I gave them to Edward.’
She found them later in Edward’s writing desk. Three beautifully penned letters from Daniel. The first one expressing his everlasting love for her, the second describing Italy in a way that made it all so clear to her. He said he missed her and was looking forward to hearing from her.
The third one expressed his hurt because he’d just learned from Elizabeth that she’d wed his father. The fact that it had been sent via Richard White made her wonder if Elizabeth, too, had been involved in the scheme to keep them apart.
I am desolate, he wrote. I should have known my father was going to pursue you. I saw it in his eyes when he looked at you. My dearest Siana, I wish you every happiness and will keep you always in my heart.
Edward had told her on his deathbed that she’d discover things about him she didn’t like. He’d had power over them all. Richard, Elizabeth, Daniel and herself. But she couldn’t blame anyone because she knew now that her love for Daniel had been a vague and purely romantic notion. That she’d so easily pushed it aside for another told her how shallow it had been.
So she threw the letters into the fire and watched tongues of flames curl the edges and consume them until they were blackened ashes that were sucked up the chimney.
Everybody was in church to hear the Welsh orator speak. Richard conducted the normal service, then seated himself beside Siana as Gruffydd Evans strode to the pulpit.
His piercing glance moved slowly over the congregation. The shuffling feet and coughs gradually silenced under that gaze until the expectant hush was a noiseless sound of its own. She jumped when his voice rang out, rich and resonant with Welsh cadences.
‘I am here to tell you of one man’s sin.’ His glance came to where she sat and his expression was curiously humble. ‘I’m here to tell you of my own sin – of the lust I felt for an innocent girl long ago. I’m here to tell you of the punishment she was forced to endure, because my pride told me my sin against her was justified.’
Tears pricked at Siana’s eyes when he smiled at her. ‘I have been on a journey into hell. I was lower than the beasts in the fields. I had no honour, no pride and was not fit to preach the word of the Lord.’
The congregation was spellbound as he continued, telling the story of Megan’s downfall, describing the way the Welsh village women had shorn the hair from her head and her father had cast her from her home.
‘For many years I sought the daughter I fathered.’ Tears began to roll down his face. ‘Finally I found her and I asked her for something she couldn’t give. Forgiveness. I have been searching my soul these last few weeks. Her answer renewed my faith, for out of that sin has come a rare gift. Eternal life.’
Whether the congregation understood his words didn’t matter. They were mesmerized by the depth of his emotion and his humbleness. Women and men had tears in their eyes and when he stood before them, cleansed of his sin, they clapped and cheered.
She waited until the crowd dispersed. After he said his farewell to Richard White and Mrs Leeman, Siana went to where he stood.
They gazed at each other, father and daughter. She took the silver cross from around her neck and placed it in his hand. ‘It belonged to my great-grandmother. If she is still alive, tell her I will visit her one day. Will you come back to see your grandson?’
‘God willing, you have not seen the last of me, daughter.’ He held out his carved stick to her. ‘It has fulfilled its purpose. Keep it until my return. Your name is on it.’
‘My mother would have forgiven you now, I think.’
He smiled. ‘Bless you, Siana. Walk with God.’
‘It’s you who must walk with God. I am a child of the earth like my mother and great-grandmother. You must accept that.’
He stooped to kiss her cheek, then turned and walked away from her, his coat flapping loosely around his ankles, his beard flowing in the breeze.
‘Papa,’ she called out and ran after him to give him a hug. There was a moment of empathy between them, then they parted and he strode away, his step full of purpose.
She wondered as she watched him go. Will I ever see him again?
She turned to find Francis watching her from the church porch. Telling Jed Hawkins to wait, she hurried to where he stood.
‘I love you,’ she said, because she’d learned from her father that people needed love to survive. ‘I’ve loved you from the moment we met.’
His smile warmed her. ‘You must not say such things. You are still in mourning.’
‘I’ll always mourn Edward.’ She gently touched his cheek. ‘He brought out the pagan in me, Francis, but, instinctively, he knew what I felt for you was deeper. Before he died he said he didn’t want to live to see me fall in love with a younger man.’
Francis began to walk her back to the carriage. He kissed her hand. ‘Will you celebrate Christmas with my family and friends at the hall? Prudence said she would enjoy your company.’
‘Not this year, Francis. I’ll stay at home and be quiet for the sake of my child.’
‘I don’t like the thought of you being alone.’
Her hand touched her stomach and she smiled. ‘I’m not alone. Josh is coming over with the orphaned lad he employs, and there i
s Daisy.’
‘Perhaps I’ll bring Maryse and Pansy over to visit you in the morning.’
‘I would like that.’ She nodded to Jed who told the coachman to set the horses in motion.
Francis watched her go, the smile broadening on his face. He felt so exhilarated he wanted to leap through the village like a scalded frog. But it would be too undignified for a man in his position.
Still, he felt the spring in his step as he headed for his horse. He was a patient man and she was still young. He would wait for her.
Ashley Edward Joshua Forbes was born six weeks later. Of a healthy size, he slipped from Siana with the minimum of fuss, making his presence felt and his position known with a demanding cry for attention.
‘Thank you, Edward,’ Siana whispered as soon as she set eyes on this handsome child of hers. She began to laugh. She should have known her late husband was too vain to allow her to produce a son who wasn’t almost moulded in his image.
In fact, young Ashley would have been his father’s double if it hadn’t been for the green in his eyes – a colour which she knew would darken to match her own in time.
An hour and a half after his birth, Siana was propped up in bed, feeling anything but exhausted. The infant had suckled at her breast, his mouth seeking it out and closing around it in instant possession and gratification.
‘A good sign,’ the midwife told her. ‘It says he knows what he wants from life and will go after it.’
Now her son lay in her arms, looking smugly like his father, and accepting homage from his servants who crept in one by one to marvel over him.
The first anniversary of Edward’s death arrived. She placed some flowers on his grave and whispered goodbye to his memory.
Returning to the house, she discarded her mourning and donned a gown of pale green. Taking her mother’s shawl from a drawer she pulled it around her shoulders. She hadn’t worn it for a long time and enjoyed being surrounded in its familiar warmth.
It was a cold day, yet full of sunshine. She took her sister up on the hill, where they danced barefoot amongst the long grass. There was such joy in her, as if she were part of the sky, the sea and the hills.