Sword to the Heart (Bantam Series No. 13)

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Sword to the Heart (Bantam Series No. 13) Page 10

by Barbara Cartland


  “Dirty?” Lord Colwall asked.

  “No! Poverty-stricken! They have hardly a blanket with which to cover themselves or a cup or plate on which to eat. Such things cost money.”

  “I will investigate your allegations concerning starvation.”

  “It will soon be worse if you bring a threshing-machine into use,” Natalia cried. “Do you know what the labourers in other Counties are asking?”

  “If you are referring to the rioters, I do not wish to hear,” Lord Colwall replied.

  “They are asking for justice,” Natalia went on as if he had not spoken. “They want two shillings per day for each man and one shilling and sixpence for each child he has to support ... Does that seem too much for a landlord who owns as much as you do?”

  “That is not the point!” Lord Colwall exclaimed. “Let me make it clear once and for all, Natalia, I will not have you visiting the cottages on my Estate. I forbid it!”

  “I can quite imagine why you do not wish me to do so!” Natalia answered. “The old woman, the grandmother of the children, told me that the last lady who visited her was your mother!”

  There was silence. Then Natalia said in a very different tone:

  “Please, My Lord, get rid of the threshing-machine! Send it away and tell your men you will not use it.”

  “Why should I do that?” Lord Colwall enquired.

  “Because these machines have caused trouble in every County except this,” Natalia answered. “You have read of the riots in Kent and Surrey, in Hampshire and even in Gloucestershire. Surely you do not want them to happen here?”

  “I will take good care they do not!”

  “And how will you prevent it?” Natalia enquired. “Do you imagine other land-owners have not regretted that their ricks were fired, their machines broken up? And what is much more important, good will between the employer and the employee disrupted to the point of violence?”

  “I have told you it is not your business,” Lord Colwall said. “I know quite well how to deal with my own men.”

  “The children are hungry,” Natalia said in a low voice.

  “I will make enquiries,” Lord Colwall promised, but his voice was cold and she knew he was angry with her.

  She went from the room to take off her bonnet and cloak before luncheon.

  When they sat down in the large Dining-Room, she found that Lord Colwall was deliberately talking of other things.

  There was a hardness in his voice and she knew that any progress she might have made in gaining his confidence had been lost because she had argued with him about the threshing-machine.

  She felt despairingly that she had lost completely the little ground she had gained, because she had been so appalled at the conditions she had found on what had seemed to her a happy and prosperous Estate.

  What could I do but tell him what I think?’ she asked herself.

  She knew that it would have been impossible for her to pretend she had not seen the suffering in the labourers cottage.

  She had heard the despair in the women’s voices when they talked of the difference the threshing-machine would make in their lives.

  ‘What can I say? What can I do to help them?’ Natalia asked herself desperately.

  At the same time she longed to put out her hand to Lord Colwall and ask him to smile at her, to persuade him to laugh as he had done yesterday when she had teased him and they had joked together, not only through luncheon but also through dinner.

  It had been a cosy and intimate occasion that she had never known before, when after dinner they had sat in front of the fire in the Library and Lord Colwall had shown her drawings by great Italian artists that one of his ancestors had brought from Rome.

  There was even one by Michelangelo and several by Tiepolo, which had made Natalia exclaim with delight.

  When finally it was time to go to bed, she had put away the portfolio almost reluctantly.

  “There is so much more I want to know. So much more I have to learn about such things,” she said.

  “You have plenty of time,” he answered with a smile. “You are very young, Natalia, but already surprisingly knowledgeable on such matters.”

  “Thanks to you, My Lord, although it was Papa who taught me most of what I know about Art.”

  “One day I will take you to Rome.”

  She looked at him with delight.

  “That is one of the things I have longed to hear you say.”

  “You anticipated I might say it?”

  “I have always wanted to visit Italy and Greece,” Natalia answered, “and Papa suggested once that you might wish to take me to both countries. I cannot imagine anything more exciting than seeing the Acropolis with you to instruct me.”

  “It is very beautiful in the moonlight,” Lord Colwall said, “and very romantic.”

  There was something in his voice that made her drop her eyes shyly before his.

  Then as if he regretted what he had said he added:

  “I am sure you would find the Colosseum equally fascinating ... One can always imagine the Christians struggling against the wild animals for their lives.”

  “I assure you, My Lord, that is not at all the type of entertainment I should find amusing,” Natalia protested.

  “Then we can wait for the moonlight and visit the Forum,” Lord Colwall suggested.

  She felt he was teasing her, and at the same time she half suspected that he was being charming for his own ends.

  He had only to sweep away her defences and then she would be all too ready to acquiesce in his wishes.

  Natalia had risen to her feet with a little smile.

  “I think, My Lord, we must for the moment concern ourselves with the present.”

  He took her hand in his.

  “May I tell you I have enjoyed myself today?” he asked.

  There was a note of sincerity in his voice which she could not misunderstand.

  “I also found it very entertaining,” she said. “Thank you, My Lord.”

  She curtsied as she spoke, and then as he opened the door for her she passed through it without looking at him again.

  She had the uneasy feeling that if she did so she might throw herself into his arms, agree to do whatever he wanted, and promise not to oppose him any longer.

  ‘It is going to be hard to be resolute, when he is so beguiling,’ she told herself.

  She loved him already more than she imagined it was possible to love anybody. She loved everything about him; the sound of his voice, his handsome features, the way his hair grew back from his forehead, his strong sensitive fingers.

  She had only to see him walk across the room to feel her heart turn over in her breast.

  Yet even as she thought about him, she remembered the tone of his voice when he had been talking with Sir James, when he had said so emphatically that there could be no possible mistake:

  “I assure you, whatever Natalia looks like, it will not affect my resolve never again to love any woman, nor, if I can prevent it, to allow her to love me!”

  When at last the Maids had withdrawn and Natalia was alone in her bed-room, she told herself that she must not be misled into thinking pleasantness was affection, nor that desire for his own way was love.

  Now, because she was determined that somehow she would make Lord Colwall love her, she knew it was stupid to antagonise him or incite him to anger as she had just done.

  Yet she thought as they finished luncheon there was nothing she could have done but speak in defence of the men who would be facing incredible hardships during the winter because of the threshing-machine.

  “This evening,” Lord Colwall said in a distant voice which meant he was still incensed with her, “I have arranged that we shall dine with the Earl of Frome. He is a relative by marriage. His house is only the other side of Hereford so the drive will not fatigue you.”

  “I should like that,” Natalia said.

  “It is rather soon after our marriage to accept invita
tions,” Lord Colwall said, “but His Lordship is departing for London the day after tomorrow, and is extremely anxious to make your acquaintance before he leaves.”

  “It is of course Lord Frome who speaks regularly in the debates in the House of Lords,” Natalia said. “I should like very much to meet him.”

  “Then if that be your pleasure, we will leave here at about six o’clock.”

  Lord Colwall rose to his feet as he spoke and Natalia led the way from the Dining-Room.

  When they were out of ear-shot of the servants and she realised that he was about to leave her she said:

  “Please will you remember what I have said about the labourers family? I will take them some food tomorrow, but there must be many more in the same state who need your help and consideration.”

  “I have told you, Natalia, that I will not have you interfering in matters that do not concern you,” Lord Colwall said sharply.

  He walked away and left her standing alone in the corridor beside a suit of armour.

  The dinner party with Lord Frome was most enjoyable.

  As they were supposedly on their honeymoon, Lord Frome had not invited more than four other guests, and with his own family of sons and daughters they sat down a mere twelve to dinner.

  The house was delightful, the dinner well cooked, and Lady Frome was a kindly, motherly woman who made Natalia feel at home. Her daughters admired unreservedly her gown and her jewels.

  Lady Frome had known Lady Margaret and had many tales of how attractive Natalia’s mother had been in the old days.

  She told Natalia how many ardent and important beaux had pursued Lady Margaret only to be refused when she gave her heart to the Reverend Adolphus and married him despite parental opposition.

  There was so much to talk about and so much to hear, that Natalia was quite surprised when Lord Colwall said it was getting late and time they returned home.

  It was very cold when they stepped out of the warm house.

  There was however a foot-warmer in the comfortable carriage, which had His Lordship’s Coat of Arms emblazoned on the panels, and there was a big fur rug to cover them both as they sat side by side against the soft cushions.

  ‘We are in a little world almost of our own,’ Natalia thought.

  She wondered what she would do if Lord Colwall put his arms around her and kissed her.

  Would she surrender herself to him?

  She knew she longed above all things to feel his lips on hers, and then she remembered again the cold manner in which he had spoken to Sir James, and knew that nothing had changed as far as he was concerned.

  They passed through the centre of Hereford and were just on the outskirts of the town, moving along a road that appeared to be empty of traffic, when the horses were pulled up with a jerk that almost flung Natalia onto the floor.

  “What has occurred?” Lord Colwall enquired as he struggled to let down the window.

  The footman opened the door.

  “I’m afraid there has been an accident, M’Lord,” he said. “We didn’t see the child until we were right on top of him.”

  “What child?” Lord Colwall asked.

  But even as he asked the question, Natalia had slipped from the carriage and out into the road-way.

  The coachman had brought the horses to a standstill, but lying against the wheel she could see in the light of the lanterns a small boy.

  She knelt down beside him, and as she did so she heard Lord Colwall say to the footman behind her:

  “How did it happen?”

  “The child must have been a-wandering about at the side of the road, M’Lord. We didn’t see him until the horses were right upon him. We’d have run right over him if Mr. Hempton hadn’t pulled them aside just in time.”

  “Is he dead?” Lord Colwall asked.

  Before the footman could reply, Natalia, who was kneeling by the boy, said:

  “No, I think he is unconscious but he has a very bad gash on one of his knees and his hand seems to be covered in blood.”

  “I wonder where he comes from,” Lord Colwall said. “Perhaps we had better take him back to the town.”

  “I think, M’Lord,” Hempton said from the box, “that he’s a lad from the Orphanage.”

  “Which Orphanage?” Lord Colwall enquired.

  “The Colwall Orphanage which was built by Your Lordship’s grandfather.”

  “Oh, yes of course I remember,” Lord Colwall said.

  While he was talking, Natalia instructed the footman to lift the child into the carriage. He was laid on the small seat opposite the one on which she and Lord Colwall had been seated.

  Now by the light of the candle-lantern inside the carriage she could see he was a child of only four or five years of age.

  He had fair hair, a thin, delicate face and was very pale—presumably from the accident. There was a bruise on his forehead where he must have fallen against a stone.

  Natalia felt his legs and arms and felt quite certain that owing to Hempton’s skilful driving the carriage wheel had not passed over him but had simply knocked him down.

  She lay the fur rug gently over the child as Lord Colwall climbed back into the carriage.

  “Drive to the Orphanage,” he said, “and go slowly.”

  “Very good, M’Lord.”

  Natalia was kneeling on the floor of the carriage holding the child on the small seat for fear he should fall off. The light gleamed on her fair hair and glittered on her diamond necklace.

  Lord Colwall watched her, but he said nothing as they travelled slowly for perhaps half a mile.

  When the carriage came to a standstill, Natalia said:

  “The child is still unconscious. We must make it clear that he requires careful nursing and that they should send for a physician.”

  “I doubt if one will come out at this time of night to an Orphanage,” Lord Colwall replied.

  Then as a door opened in response to the footman’s knock, he alighted.

  As if she did not trust him to insist that the child needed urgent attention, Natalia followed Lord Colwall from the carriage and walked up a short stone-paved path.

  She saw the building built of red brick was not large and it had small, gabled windows.

  “That must have been Timothy in the road-way, M’Lord,” she heard the woman say as she reached Lord Colwall’s side. “He’s always running away to go and look for his mother. He hasn’t been with us long.”

  The woman looked harassed. The apron she wore over her gown was none too clean and there were strands of hair escaping from under her mob cap.

  “I am Lady Colwall,” Natalia said politely holding out her hand. “I am sorry that we have hurt one of your children.”

  “There’s too many of them and that’s a fact, M’Lady,” the woman answered. “Over twenty I’ve got at the moment, and not a soul to help me.”

  “No-one to help you?” Natalia exclaimed in surprise.

  “I think perhaps we should step inside,” Lord Colwall said. “It is cold standing here and we have just come from a warm atmosphere.”

  “Yes, of course, M’Lord, excuse me,” the woman stuttered, afraid she had done the wrong thing.

  She held open the door while Natalia and Lord Colwall walked inside.

  The Orphanage was austere, but they could see the room they entered was adequately furnished, although it was extremely untidy and badly in need of being dusted.

  “I must apologise, M’Lord...” the woman began, but Lord Colwall interposed:

  “Will you tell me your name?”

  “Mrs. Moppam, M’Lord.”

  “And you have been in charge of this Orphanage for some time?”

  “For over eight years, M’Lord.”

  “Then why are you so short-staffed?”

  The woman looked embarrassed.

  “I shouldn’t have mentioned it, M’Lord, except that you finds me in such a mess. Of course, if I’d known Your Lordship and Your Ladyship were coming...”
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  “Why are you short-staffed?” Lord Colwall asked again.

  “The truth is, M’Lord, there’s not enough money these days. When Your Lordship’s grandfather endowed the Orphanage it was enough and to spare, but the pound won’t buy what it used to and that’s the truth.”

  “You mean you cannot pay for adequate help?”

  “No, M’Lord. I used to have two untrained girls—some of them as young as twelve or thirteen, most of them more trouble than they are worth—but I can’t even get those now. There’s too many places as wants ’em.”

  “You say you have twenty children here?” Natalia asked.

  “Yes, M’Lady. They keeps asking me to take more, but ’tis impossible. But I has to do everything, except for old Mrs. Brown who comes in the morning to help me prepare a meal.”

  Natalia looked at Lord Colwall.

  “We cannot leave the little boy here in the condition he is in. It would be too much to ask of Mrs. Moppam.”

  ‘It’s not that I’m not willing, M’Lady, but what’d I do at the moment, with an injured child on my hands? As it is, there’s eight children down with Whooping Cough.”

  “I suppose there is the Hospital...” Lord Colwall began.

  “Not in Hereford, M’Lord. Worcester’s nearest, and that’s not much of a place to send a child, from all I hear.”

  “Then he will come home with us.”

  There was a firmness in Natalia’s voice which told Lord Colwall without words she was determined in this matter whatever he might say.

  His lips tightened as he said:

  “That perhaps will be the best solution at least for tonight.”

  “Thank you, M’Lord. I am very grateful, and to you, M’Lady,” Mrs. Moppam said, twisting her hands agitatedly in her dirty apron.

  “Good-bye, Mrs. Moppam,” Natalia said with a smile. “I am sure my husband will be able to make arrangements so that you can employ more help for the other children in your care. When the Orphanage was built it was certainly intended to be a model of its kind.”

  She moved towards the door as she spoke.

  Mrs. Moppam followed her, bobbing and curtseying apprehensively up and down as first Natalia and then Lord Colwall went towards the carriage.

 

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