His Brother's Wife

by Val Wood

  And his answer, loud but whiny: ‘Don’t start on me, woman. I haven’t done owt, not to anybody, least of all to her.’

  ‘You’d better not let your son catch you,’ his wife said. ‘And don’t think I don’t know you and that shifty look o’ yourn. I can read you like a book, Nathaniel Tuke, and don’t you forget it.’

  Harriet escaped to the hen house and sat on the step. She’d have to be more careful to avoid him in future, she thought, but how could she live like this, constantly on the watch; how could she ever be comfortable and feel at home?

  A few days later, on a morning which was cold but bright, Mrs Tuke asked Harriet to come to Brough with her. ‘I’ve a bit of shopping to do,’ she said. ‘I need a sack o’ flour and soap and a few other things, so I’ll show you ’best places to get ’em, and if there’s time we’ll drop in and see Mrs Marshall.’

  ‘Oh, yes, please,’ Harriet said. Anything to get out of the house. She wasn’t due at the manor this week and time was hanging very heavily. And she would not stay alone in the house with Mr Tuke.

  Mrs Tuke went upstairs to tell her husband that his breakfast was in the side oven and he must help himself, and asked Harriet to find Fletcher or Noah to tell them they were going out and there was bread and beef for their midday meal.

  Harriet couldn’t find Noah but she could hear the splintering of wood and guessed correctly that Fletcher was still finishing off the job of thinning out the trees on the track. She turned a corner and saw him. He had his back to her, with one foot on a tree branch and an axe in his hand, about to chop the branch into logs; a large woodpile was nearby.

  He lowered the axe and turned. ‘I knew you were there, even though I didn’t hear you,’ he said.

  ‘Alert to danger?’ she asked.

  ‘Danger? Aye, mebbe so.’ He stood looking at her. ‘Or mebbe because I was thinking of you.’

  ‘You mustn’t,’ she said softly, even though she knew she wanted him to. ‘It’s – it’s not right.’ She paused. ‘I’ve onny come to tell you that your ma and me are going to Brough and that there’s food left for you and Noah in ’larder.’

  He nodded, keeping his eyes on her face. ‘Is my father still in bed?’

  ‘Yes. Your mother has left his breakfast in ’oven.’

  ‘He’ll not get up for it. He’ll stay in bed all morning.’ He put down the axe and came towards her.

  ‘No, don’t.’ She backed away. ‘I – I don’t know where Noah is – he might come.’

  ‘He won’t,’ he said. ‘He’s in ’bottom field.’ But he stopped and put his hands up. ‘I wasn’t going to touch you. I just wanted to be close to you. I’m sorry. I can’t help it.’

  She studied his face. He looked drawn, as if he hadn’t slept. ‘I’m so afraid,’ she whispered. ‘Of Noah and what he would do if he even – even guessed that you—’ She exhaled. ‘I’m afraid that he’d kill you and then me.’

  He smiled, wistfully, she thought, and turned away. ‘Enjoy your day,’ he muttered. ‘It’ll do you and Ma good to get out of ’house and see folk.’

  They heard the bang of the house door and Ellen’s Tuke’s voice calling her. Harriet turned back feeling confused and unsure of herself. How good it would be to get away, even for just a few hours.

  As they rattled towards Brough, Mrs Tuke said, ‘You’re quiet. Are you unwell?’

  ‘Just a touch headachy,’ Harriet admitted. ‘It’s nowt much. ‘Fresh air will clear it.’

  They travelled for another ten minutes before Ellen Tuke, keeping her eyes firmly over the horse’s ears, muttered, ‘Don’t stand for any nonsense from Mr Tuke, will you? He thinks he’s God’s gift to women, but he’ll soon get ’message if you’re firm wi’ him.’

  Harriet turned to her in astonishment. ‘Wh— What …’

  ‘I know him very well,’ she said. ‘He can hide nowt from me and I knew as soon as I came in ’kitchen ’other day that he’d been up to summat.’

  ‘I – don’t think he meant anything,’ Harriet said lamely. ‘It was probably onny a bit o’ banter.’

  ‘It wasn’t,’ she replied coldly. ‘He’ll tek any chance he can get.’ She sighed. ‘And I’m stuck wi’ him just as you’re stuck wi’ Noah.’

  They left the horse and cart outside a shop and Mrs Tuke said that the mare wouldn’t run away and she was right, because each time they walked on to another place the horse clip-clopped after them. They only bought a few provisions besides the sack of flour, and it seemed to Harriet that her mother-in-law only really wanted the outing. She must be fed up with being trapped in ’house all day, she thought, just as I am. Indeed, Mrs Tuke seemed to know quite a lot of people and they all stopped to talk to her.

  ‘I lived here with my ma before I went into service,’ she explained, ‘and for a short time after I married Mr Tuke, although my mother didn’t like him.’

  They were about to climb back into the cart when a woman came out of one of the cottages. She was clearly a lady by her dress, and she had a maid with her who was carrying several packages.

  ‘It’s Mrs Hart, with Alice,’ Harriet murmured. ‘What’s she doing here? She surely doesn’t do her own shopping?’

  ‘No,’ Ellen Tuke said. ‘I reckon she’s doing a few good deeds.’ She stopped speaking as Melissa Hart approached them, and holding the horse’s snaffle she dipped her knee. ‘Morning, ma’am,’ she murmured.

  ‘Good morning,’ Mrs Hart said breezily. Looking at Harriet, she said, ‘Good morning, Mrs Tuke. How are you?’

  Harriet too dipped her knee. ‘Very well, thank you, ma’am. I hope you are too?’

  ‘I am,’ she said, her eyes straying back to Ellen.

  ‘This is my mother-in-law, Ellen Tuke,’ Harriet said. ‘She used to work at ’manor.’

  ‘Did you?’ Melissa smiled. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you,’ she said, not disclosing that she had ever heard of Ellen Tuke. ‘It’s so nice that there’s continuity, isn’t it? We’ve been visiting Alice’s mother, who is not well. She also worked at the manor – when my husband was young.’

  ‘Would that be Florence Brown, ma’am?’ Ellen glanced at the young maid, who nodded. ‘I remember her. She left not long after I did.’

  ‘Really?’ Melissa said pleasantly. ‘Well, come along, Alice, we have more to do and Cook will be after my skin if I keep you out too long. Good day, Mrs Tuke. Good day, Mrs Tuke – Harriet. Your daughter-in-law has a very good hand with the iron,’ she added to Ellen, before drawing away with Alice in tow.

  ‘Well.’ Ellen Tuke drew in a breath. ‘I’ve never known anyone quite like her. You wouldn’t have caught Master Christopher’s mother calling on young maids’ mothers, sick or not.’ She watched Mrs Hart climbing into a smart trap and taking the reins of a fine horse. ‘I don’t think Mrs Jane Hart would’ve done, either. A proper lady she was, from what I gathered.’

  ‘I’m pleased that she does,’ Harriet said. ‘We’re all out of ’same pot, aren’t we? It’s just an accident of birth whether we end up rich or poor.’

  Ellen gazed after the trap as it bowled past them. She huffed. ‘Mebbe so.’ She clicked her tongue and the old mare moved slowly off. ‘I don’t think we’ll visit Mrs Marshall today. I can feel a headache coming on now.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  ‘Guess who I met in Brough today,’ Melissa said gaily, coming to join her husband in the drawing room where he was waiting for the supper bell.

  ‘What were you doing in Brough?’ Christopher looked up from his newspaper.

  ‘I took Alice; she told me yesterday that her mother was ill and that she was worried about her, so I said I would drive her in to visit her.’

  Christopher frowned. ‘Alice?’ He searched in his mind for an acquaintance of that name. ‘I don’t recall anyone called Alice.’

  ‘Yes you do, darling. Our maid, Alice. You see her practically every day.’

  ‘Alice? You mean you drove one of the maids into Brough to see her mother? Why di
dn’t you get one of the men to take her?’

  Melissa sighed. ‘Because Cook had said she couldn’t have the time off and I knew that Cook wouldn’t argue with me, and besides, I was curious to know if Alice’s mother really was ill or if Alice simply wanted the morning off.’

  ‘And …?’ he asked.

  Melissa nodded. ‘She was ill. Oh, not with anything catching, so don’t look so alarmed. She’s crippled with arthritis and in a great deal of pain.’ She reached to ring the bell on the wall.

  ‘Ah!’ he said, returning to his newspaper.

  ‘Don’t you want to know who I saw?’

  He put down the newspaper. ‘You’re going to tell me anyhow.’ He smiled indulgently. ‘Come on then, whom did you see?’

  Alice came in answer to the bell and Melissa said, ‘Ask Cookson to bring a brandy and soda and a small claret, please, Alice.’

  Alice bobbed her knee and went out again.

  ‘That’s Alice,’ Melissa pointed out.

  ‘I know,’ Christopher said patiently. ‘And how did you know I wanted a brandy and soda?’

  ‘Because you always like one when we have a chat,’ she said.

  Christopher sat up straight. ‘What are we going to chat about? I’m beginning to feel very nervous, like a schoolboy in front of his headmaster.’

  Melissa laughed. ‘Silly,’ she said. ‘I asked you who do you think I saw in Brough?’

  He sighed. ‘I have absolutely no idea. Really, Melissa, you’re worse than Amy. Don’t you think it’s time she came home?’ he added.

  ‘I do, as a matter of fact,’ she agreed. ‘But she’s obviously having a good time and doesn’t want to. And that’s not what we’re talking about.’

  He folded his arms. ‘So of what or whom are we speaking?’

  ‘Mrs Tuke and Mrs Tuke!’ she said triumphantly. ‘They were in Brough.’

  ‘So? Is that supposed to mean something?’

  ‘I thought you’d be interested! Oh, not about Harriet Tuke because she’s new and you don’t know her, although you might have noticed how beautifully she irons your shirts and cravats. But your Ellen Tuke. She’s the one I met.’

  ‘My Ellen Tuke?’ He stopped as the butler came in with a tray, mixed him a brandy and soda and then passed Melissa a glass of claret before quietly leaving the room. ‘What do you mean?’ Christopher went on irritably. ‘She’s not my Ellen Tuke. She used to be Ellen Fletcher when she worked here, before she married Tuke.’

  ‘Were you sweet on her? I think she might have been pretty once, though she’s very careworn now.’

  He sighed. ‘You say the strangest things, Melissa.’ Then he considered. ‘I suppose I might have been when I was young,’ he admitted. ‘When my sisters left home to be married there was no one to talk to in the school holidays so I would go down to the kitchen to be spoiled by Cook and the other servants.’

  ‘Including Ellen Fletcher?’ she said slyly.

  He shook his head. ‘She was very shy when she first came to work here.’ He paused. ‘But you’re right, she was pretty then.’ He gazed at Melissa. ‘She looked rather like you, come to think of it. Fair hair, fair skin, blue-grey eyes, I think.’

  ‘Yours are the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen,’ she said. ‘And did you meet her secretly? Did you have a schoolboy crush on her?’

  He ran his fingers through his short beard. ‘I did,’ he answered softly, which quite shocked Melissa as she had only set out to tease him. ‘I was too young to know that any liaison was impossible. I couldn’t wait to see her each time I came home from school, and then when I finished my schooling and decided I wanted to work on the estate I saw her more often.’

  He gazed down at his brandy glass and swirled the liquid around. He breathed deeply, more like a sigh. ‘She was the one who eventually broke away. I was just twenty-one.’ He gave a self-deprecating laugh. ‘My father would have had a fit if he’d known, but it wouldn’t have worked and she realized that before I did. I think maybe someone in the kitchen had warned her off.’ He sat up straight again. ‘And the next thing she was telling me she was going to marry the abominable Tuke. God knows why. Nobody liked him.’

  Melissa hadn’t expected a confession such as this. He must have been smitten, she thought, to remember so much.

  ‘I didn’t think she’d ever be happy with Tuke, and that’s the real reason why I gave her the lease on Marsh Farm.’

  ‘Her?’ she asked. ‘Not him?’

  ‘It’s rented to Ellen. Her name is on the lease. I don’t know if he knows, he’s not very bright, but I didn’t trust him to do right by her and I thought that way she’d always have the security of a roof over her head.’

  ‘Why didn’t you let it to her at a peppercorn rent?’ she asked. ‘It’s worthless, isn’t it, down by the river?’

  ‘Land is never worthless,’ he pointed out. ‘All land is worth something.’

  ‘Then why not? Like Mrs Marshall,’ Melissa said.

  He shook his head. ‘Mrs Marshall is old and has no one else to look after her. Besides, that was years later, as you know. If I’d asked my father to let Tuke have it for a peppercorn rent he would have wondered why. He didn’t know that I’d put Ellen’s name on the lease. And Ellen wouldn’t have been comfortable either; she’d have considered it a favour and wouldn’t have liked that. But the rent is low, in any case, nothing that they can’t manage. I put it up every few years now that she has two sons to help farm it.’

  Melissa was silent for a moment. Christopher, she thought, must have known Ellen Fletcher very well indeed to know exactly how she would feel about the rent of the house and the land.

  ‘And,’ she said hesitantly, ‘when you met Jane afterwards, did you love her?’

  He looked across at her, and as he smiled at her the supper bell rang. ‘It was an arranged marriage, as you very well know,’ he said quietly. ‘And yes, of course I cared for her.’ He rose from the chair and put out his hand to help her up and gently kissed her cheek. ‘But it is you I love.’

  March blew in and the windows rattled and the guttering shook, but everyone knew that winter was in retreat and spring was on its way. The brothers began sowing and some new lambs were born and Harriet began to look at the farm in a different light. It was no longer so cold, and although the land was still wet a new growth was beginning in the hedgerows, with birds nesting and winter snowdrops and aconites making way for primroses and cowslips, and meadow grass beginning to flourish. The hens began to lay more eggs; Mrs Tuke acquired ducks who, with their wings clipped, plunged their heads into muddy puddles, ignoring the deeper waters of the estuary. They splattered all over the yard so that Harriet was constantly pumping water and brushing to avoid bringing their mess into the house.

  The milk yield was flourishing and Ellen made butter and kept it cool in the larder. Harriet wrote signs and nailed them to the gate advertising the surplus of milk and eggs for anyone who might be passing and every other Monday she walked to the manor to do the laundry.

  Mrs Hart had left a parcel for Harriet with Alice one day and on opening it she had found a grey wool skirt and two poplin blouses in grey and blue, and a note to say that if they would fit her she would be pleased if she would accept them. They fitted her perfectly and were of a much better quality than she could ever have afforded. Harriet left a note for Mrs Hart to thank her for her kindness.

  The days were lengthening and Harriet walked slowly back to Marsh Farm late one afternoon; she felt tired after ironing a big batch of sheets and pillowcases following the departure of visitors from the manor. At the top of the farm track she saw the familiar figure of Fletcher waiting for her and felt a mixed frisson of anxiety and elation; she wanted to see him but worried that Noah might take it into his head to come up the track. The possibility was remote, for he rarely left the homestead, but nevertheless she was nervous and disturbed and not only because he might come across them talking or standing close.

  She had tried to avoid any contac
t with Fletcher for the last few weeks, except when they sat at table during mealtimes, and even then she hardly dared to look at him in case she drew attention to the unspoken communication they shared. She was sure that Noah or their mother would be able to tell that there was a rapport, an attraction, between them, for if she felt it and Fletcher did too, then surely it must be obvious to everyone else. Whenever he was near she felt an urge to put her fingers to her throat to still the throb of the pulse, so sure was she that others could hear the rapid beat of her heart.

  ‘You shouldn’t do this.’ Her voice broke as he drew near. ‘It’s so light now, someone might see—’

  ‘I had to come,’ he interrupted. ‘I’ve made my mind up about something and I need to tell you.’

  ‘And I—’ she began, but he took hold of her hands and pressed them to his lips.

  ‘No,’ he insisted. ‘Let me say my piece first. I’ve had enough. Noah and I – I can’t work with him any more. You don’t hear half of what he says; he gives out orders as if he’s ’master here, and he’s not. I am, or should be, but I don’t want to lord it over him or we’ll fight. We should be able to work together as a team but he won’t agree and he keeps on about this damned bet that he says we made.’ He shook his head. ‘And I’ll not have it. But ’worst thing is that I can’t bear to think of you being with him, of him touching you, holding you.’ His voice dropped to not much more than a whisper. ‘It’s driving me crazy, Harriet. I can’t – I won’t stand for it any longer.’

  He gently stroked her cheek, and in spite of his roughened fingers it was a tender gesture. ‘So I’m leaving. I’m going away – to America.’

  Her lips parted and her eyes filled with tears. ‘Don’t,’ she pleaded. ‘Please don’t leave me.’

  ‘Come with me!’ he begged. ‘Leave him and come away with me. Stay with him and you’ll never be happy. I want you. Come with me, Harriet. I’ll allus tek care of you.’