“It’s been like the old days, M’Lady, and that’s a fact, having a child in the Nursery,” she said. “It’s made me feel young again.”
It was true that Nanny seemed to have grown not only younger, but a great deal stronger since Timothy had been there.
She still limped as she walked, but she managed to bustle around as she made no effort to do before, and Natalia was quite certain that her rheumatism was partly due to being inactive.
As she had promised, she had made Nanny the herbal potion according to her mother’s special recipe, but she knew that the best medicine she could possibly have would be a baby to look after.
‘Just another reason,’ Natalia said to herself, ‘why I should give His Lordship an heir.’
She knew that she wanted more than anything else to have a child and know that it would grow up as handsome and attractive as its father.
Yet her whole body shrank with a kind of sick horror when she thought that, because Lord Colwall did not love her, she might produce a deformed baby such as she had seen lying on the grave of Sarah’s step-father.
She would never forget, she thought, her feelings when she had seen it!
It had been a moment when repugnance and pity mingled with a fiery anger that such a thing should have happened.
She could remember her father saying quickly and almost harshly to her mother:
“Take Natalia away. I will deal with this.”
Her mother had taken her arm and drawn her towards the Church, but she knew she could never forget, and what she had seen was seared deep into her memory for all time.
“See ... horses?” Timothy was asking with a look of excitement in his blue eyes.
“Yes, two big horses,” Natalia answered.
Nanny buttoned him into a warm coat which Ellen had gone to Hereford to buy for him. There was a woollen cap to cover his fair hair and new gloves for his hands.
When he was ready, a footman carried him down the stairs and set him beside Natalia in the comfortable brougham which she used when she went out driving alone.
There were two fine horses to draw it and two men on the box, and she thought as they moved down the drive how comfortable and secure her life was compared to what the future held for the little boy at her side.
He was so frail that she felt he would never survive if, when he was old enough, he was sent to a factory or apprentised.
She had heard terrifying stories from her father of how badly apprentices could be treated. Some of them were little better than slaves, beaten and starved by their masters with no redress, unless they ran away.
Then, if they were caught, they could be brought back and beaten all over again.
‘I cannot bear it for Timothy,’ she thought to herself.
In the short time he had been at the Castle, she had developed a special affection for the child and she knew that he appealed to a maternal instinct which she had not known she possessed.
On her instructions the carriage stopped first at the Blacksmith’s Forge.
There were a number of customers waiting outside holding their horses while there was the clang of a hammer on the anvil and the embers in the fire were glowing red.
The footman got down and opened the door.
“Your Ladyship wishes to speak with Mr. Turner?”
“No, to Mrs. Turner,” Natalia replied.
“She lives in the house next to the Forge, M’Lady.”
“Then see if she is at home,” Natalia ordered.
The footman knocked at the door and when it opened, Natalia stepped down from the carriage.
She took Timothy by the hand and drew him into the Forge.
The Blacksmith looked up as she entered. He had hold of a horses hoof and was nailing the shoe into place.
“Good afternoon, M’Lady!”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Tinner!” Natalia said. “I wish to have a few words with your wife. Might this little boy, whose name is Timothy, stay and watch you?”
“He’s welcome, M’Lady.”
“Stay here, Timothy,” Natalia said, “and do not get in the way.”
She saw that the child’s face was alight with interest as he drew nearer to the Blacksmith. He loved horses and did not remember his accident, so it had left no unpleasant memories in his mind.
Natalia left the Forge and went up the short path to the house.
Mrs. Turner showed her into the parlour.
“It’s a great honour, M’Lady. I’d no idea you might be calling.”
“Ellen has told me about you, Mrs. Turner,” Natalia answered, “and I have a very great favour to ask of you.”
“A favour, M’Lady?” Mrs. Turner cried, not believing that it was possible for her to do anyone so important a favour.
Natalia sat down on a chair and explained about Timothy.
She told Mrs. Turner how lonely the child was without his mother, how he had escaped from the Orphanage to go looking for her, and how he called every woman “Mama” in a pathetic effort to find the love he had lost.
By the time she had finished speaking, there were tears in Mrs. Turner’s eyes.
“I have told you all this,” Natalia said in her soft voice, “because I wondered if it would be possible for you and Mr. Turner to adopt Timothy? I cannot bear to think of him at the Orphanage. He is such a gentle, quiet little boy, I feel he will not hold his own with the other children, and I cannot contemplate what will happen when he has to earn his own living.”
“You mean adopt him, M’Lady?” Mrs. Turner asked.
“Is it too much to ask?” Natalia answered.
“I don’t know. I’ve never thought of it, M’Lady. I don’t know if my husband would agree. It’s been a bitter blow to him that we had no more children, and a better and kinder man ’twould be hard to find. ’Tis real miserable I am to feel that I’ve failed him.”
“What I am going to suggest,” Natalia said, “is that I leave Timothy here with you from tonight, and I will drive on to the Orphanage and explain to Mrs. Moppam that you are getting to know him. If Mr. Turner will not agree to keep him then perhaps you could take him back there tomorrow, or send me a message.”
“We can manage that ourselves, Ma’am,” Mrs. Turner said. “We has a gig.”
“It does not matter which way it is done if Timothy has to go back,” Natalia said, “but I am hoping and praying, Mrs. Turner, that you will find a place for him in your home.”
She went back to the Forge to find Timothy entranced with the shoeing of the horses.
He had managed to get a streak of grease on his face and his hands were dirty, but he looked happy.
“Come with me, Timothy,” Natalia said. “There is a lady who wants to meet you.”
“Mama?” Timothy asked unexpectedly.
“Yes, Mama,” Natalia said firmly.
She took the little boy into the house where Mrs. Tinner was waiting.
“Why, he’s beautiful!” she exclaimed.
“Mrs. Moppam will tell you all about him, should you wish to know,” Natalia said.
She knelt down beside Timothy and said:
“Listen, Timothy, you are going to stay here today with Mama. Be a very good boy and I know she will tell you lots of stories. She had a little boy of her own once and he loved listening to them.”
She saw the tears overflow in Mrs. Turner’s eyes.
Then having kissed Timothy, she moved towards the door.
He did not seem to mind that she was leaving, as he was exploring the room. He liked a pretty shell he had found on a table near the wall.
The carriage carried Natalia on to the Orphanage.
There she explained to Mrs. Moppam what had happened and met the new assistants who had been sent from the village. She noted that the place was much cleaner.
The children seemed happy. Those who had been at the Orphanage for some time appeared well-fed.
At the same time, Natalia felt that Timothy wanted more than food and clothi
ng. In contrast, the other children seemed very robust and coarser in appearance.
“What do you know about Timothy?” she asked Mrs. Moppam.
“His mother was a housemaid at a Gentleman’s house,” Mrs. Moppam replied. “She got into trouble and was turned out without a reference. She managed to keep herself and the child alive by hard work but gradually her strength gave out, I understand her lungs were affected.”
“Who was the father?” Natalia asked.
“She’d never say, M’Lady, but I happens to know the house where she was employed and the son is a pleasant-spoken, handsome young gentleman.”
She paused:
“The woman who brought Timothy here was with his mother when she died. She had told her that she had only ever loved one man in her life, and that he had loved her.
“ ‘There was never any hope for us,’ she said, ‘but we loved each other.’ ”
“So Timothy was a love-child!” Natalia exclaimed.
It was, she thought, something she had known from the moment she had seen him. Only a child that had been born in love could have looked like Timothy.
She drove back to the Castle feeling she was leaving something of herself behind her, something she should have cherished and held on to.
Then she thought it was because she missed the affection she could expend on Timothy.
She longed to put her arms around Lord Colwall and tell him she not only loved him as a man, but as someone she could comfort and look after.
She found herself continually thinking of how much he must have suffered when he learnt of his first wife’s deception and immorality. He was decent, upright, and proud and the shock must have been intolerable.
He was like a child that had been hurt. That was why she longed to give him a love he had never known.
Always he had been alone. Always he had had to control his feelings and perhaps when he was small like Timothy, he had called for a mother who was dead.
‘I love him!’ Natalia said to herself, ‘but until he loves me I cannot give him what I know he needs.’
Lord Colwall had not yet returned when she went up to dress for dinner.
She chose one of the most attractive of her gowns, knowing that the pale blue satin and rosebud tulle made a perfect foil for her fair hair and white skin.
She wore a necklace of turquoises and diamonds and there was a bracelet and ring to match, so that when she went downstairs she felt that Lord Colwall would be pleased with her appearance.
She had heard him return while she was still dressing but the Salon was empty when she entered it.
As she walked towards the fire she saw that lying on the table were the day’s newspapers.
She picked up the Morning Post and had been reading it for some minutes when Lord Colwall came into the room.
She put the newspaper down hastily.
“Is there any interesting news?” he asked. “I have not had time to read the papers today.”
Natalia did not answer him for a moment fearing that what she had been reading might annoy him.
He was obviously waiting for an answer, and after a moment she said a little hesitatingly:
“I was reading that the Duke of Buckinghamshire has said that fifteen hundred rioters in Hampshire have threatened to attack any farmhouse where there are threshing-machines.”
“I believe there are a few magistrates who are cowed into submitting to mob violence,” Lord Colwall said sharply. “Sir Robert Peel is determined that a firm hand must be applied from the very onset.”
“But the labourers are obeying this Captain Swing. It says that wherever he appears they listen to him bareheaded.”
“If he comes here,” Lord Colwall replied, “we will be ready for him. I have been discussing the matter this afternoon, and here we are prepared to quell the first sign of rebellion the moment it appears.”
Natalia did not reply.
She longed to plead with Lord Colwall once again to dispense with the threshing-machine and not to incite the labourers to violence but she was certain he would not listen to her.
“The sentences are to be heavier than ever,” Lord Colwall went on. “Any man who starts a fire or threatens a farmer will, in future, be transported for life!”
“They are only asking for ... justice,” Natalia faltered.
“That is not the way to get it.”
Dinner was announced before he could say any more and because Natalia realised that argument would achieve nothing, she deliberately spoke of other things.
“I have something to show you after dinner,” Lord Colwall said, “which I think will interest you.”
“What is it?” Natalia enquired with some curiosity.
“I saw a picture this afternoon which I bought.”
“A picture?” she exclaimed.
“It belonged to a gentleman who has lost a great deal of money at gaming,” Lord Colwall explained. “He asked me if I would like to purchase two of his horses, but they were not up to my standard and I refused them. However when I was leaving his house I saw a picture which took my fancy.”
“I am looking forward to seeing it,” Natalia replied. “Who is it by?”
“Sir Joshua Reynolds,” Lord Colwall announced. ‘Its owner was asking a somewhat fancy price for it—over two hundred pounds—but I thought it was worth it.”
When dinner was over he took Natalia into the Library and showed her the picture.
It was of a very beautiful woman turning sideways, her hand outstretched, towards an urn on which was perched a small bird.
It had been painted exquisitely and Natalia gave a little cry of delight as soon as she saw it.
“It is lovely!” she exclaimed. “I am so glad that you bought it. The Lady has such grace!”
“I think that is why she reminded me of you,” Lord Colwall said.
“Of me?”
She was surprised and the colour rose to her cheeks.
“I am very flattered that you should think me graceful,” she said. “I have always thought that I was rather jiggety!”
“What do you mean by that?” he asked.
“Rather like a little bird which hops from twig to twig! I have always longed to fly slowly with great flapping wings as the larger birds do. That is what I think of as grace.”
Lord Colwall put his arm on the mantel-shelf and looked down at her pointed face upturned to his.
“You are not like a bird,” he said slowly. “You remind me of a small fawn. You have that same look in your large eyes that a fawn has! And you know how they scamper swiftly away, moving with a rhythmic grace which is almost indescribable.”
“I am very pleased to be a fawn!”
She smiled at him, and then he said almost harshly:
“Of course, as an experienced hunter, I should not let the fawn get away.”
“That sounds very primitive.”
“Men are primitive!” Lord Colwall argued. “Have you not realised that by now? If I had behaved according to pattern, I should have dragged you away by force into my cave, just as my earliest ancestor would have done.”
“Your earliest ancestor would have chosen his woman from a crowd of eligible females,” Natalia replied. “He undoubtedly would have had to fight for her, and only when he had proved himself would he have been entitled to possess her.”
Lord Colwall seated himself near the fire in the high-backed chair which he usually occupied.
“The trouble with you, Natalia,” he said, “is you think too much! You use your brain, and brain in a woman is a nuisance and a hindrance to her femininity.”
“I am sure you would much rather I was a simpering Miss who would agree with everything you said!” Natalia retorted. “But would you not find it rather dull?”
“I like women to comply with my wishes and be prepared to obey my commands.”
Natalia gave him a little smile.
“I very much doubt it,” she said. “You have too many brains of your o
wn! Can you imagine anything worse than having to live permanently with someone who mouthed platitudes, never read a book, had no knowledge of Art, and would anticipate everything you wanted before you had time to formulate your needs to yourself ?”
“That is exactly what I had hoped to find in my wife,” Lord Colwall affirmed.
“If I believed you, I suppose that I should be humiliated into thinking how far I had fallen short of your ideal,” Natalia replied. “But somehow I think that such an idea has no real substance.” She laughed.
“You wanted a doll, one of those wooden dolls I owned as a child, with a perpetual smile on its face! When you remembered to play with it, it would be there, and when you did not want it you would throw it in a corner and forget all about it!”
“Are you trying to tell me that it would be difficult to forget you?” Lord Colwall asked.
Natalia did not answer.
Herald had crept close to her as he always did, and she patted and caressed the great mastiff as he edged himself nearer and nearer in his delight at her touch.
“Did you take the child back?” Lord Colwall asked unexpectedly.
Natalia had a feeling he had been wanting all the evening to ask her this question and had been unable to bring himself to do so.
“Ellen had the wonderful idea,” Natalia answered, “that her Aunt who is married to the Blacksmith might like to adopt Timothy. I have left him there for tonight, and if the Turners decide not to keep him, we can send him back to the Orphanage either tomorrow or the next day.”
“You are determined he shall not go back,” Lord Colwall said.
“He is such a sensitive little boy,” Natalia explained, “not like the other children.”
“Why should you think that?” Lord Colwall enquired.
Natalia did not answer and after a moment he said again:
“Tell me, Natalia, why should you think Timothy different from the other children?”
“There is ... something about him,” she faltered. “But perhaps they are all the ... same, and it is ... just that I have come to ... know Timothy.”
“What else is he?” Lord Colwall asked.
Natalia looked up at him.
“I see you ... know already ... My Lord, that Timothy is a ... love-child.”
Sword to the Heart (Bantam Series No. 13) Page 12