‘We’ll be turning into the main route soon, things will improve then, I promise.’
The jouncing and bouncing and constant need to adjust her hat and her hair at least had the benefit of taking Eleanor’s mind from her forthcoming encounter.
The carriage and its outriders trotted into Norwich a little before eleven o’clock. The city was thick with traffic and loud with the noise of traders shouting their wares and the clatter of horses and wheels on the cobbles. The carriage stopped in front of an imposing, solid brick, residence setback from the road, at precisely noon.
Eleanor peered from the window. ‘Is this it, John?’
‘Yes, my lady. I’ll go and announce our arrival.’
She sat back; her heart thudded uncomfortably and her stomach roiled. She was glad they hadn’t stopped for refreshments. She watched John walk up the steps to the front door and bang on the ornate brass knocker.
The door was opened by a maid. She couldn’t hear what was being said from that distance but the girl was certainly not giving John the news she wanted. The door closed and John returned to the carriage.
‘Foster isn’t at home. It appears he’s visiting relations in the country today, the maid said.’
‘Do you think she’s telling the truth?’
‘Yes, I’m sure of it.’
Eleanor shook her head. ‘We should have discovered whether he would be at home before we set off.’
‘Then he would have been forewarned of our visit. This was a risk we had to take. Shall I take the letter, my lady?’
‘Yes, I have no choice. I would have much preferred to have spoken its contents to his face, than have him read of my displeasure and intention to wrest back control of the estate.’ She delved into her reticule of handed it over.
‘Now, Mary and I can visit the shops. John, you must take the jewellery and get the best price you’re able. We will meet, as arranged, for tea, by the castle. Afterwards you will, hopefully, have substantial funds to deposit in the bank.’ The carriage turned round in a nearby park and threaded its way back to the centre of the town.
All the participants in the excursion were well pleased with their afternoon. John had sold the jewellery for a substantial amount and had opened an account and safely deposited the banker’s draft. The two grooms had imbibed two tankards of excellent porter and devoured several tasty meat pasties. Tommy had been perfectly content left at the ostlers to mind the carriage and the horses. Eleanor, accompanied by Mary, had traipsed happily in and out of the haberdashers, milliners and the large general stores.
Her many purchases were in boxes and bags secreted beneath Matthew’s perch and also tucked neatly under the seats in the coach. She leant back with a sigh. ‘Apart from missing Foster, I consider this day well spent. I can hardly credit the amount you raised for my valuables, John. Will you organise the repairing of the cottages immediately?’
‘I will, my lady. At a shilling a day we can afford to employ several extra labourers. I’ll do as you suggest and recruit, where I can, from the ex-soldiers’
‘The plight of the working man in this area is pitiful. They don’t even have the factories to find employment as they do further north. It’s hardly surprising there’s unrest. The land owners and Parliament are to blame. They should lower the cost of corn and find work for these poor souls. Aaahh…!’ Her political speech ended with a scream when the coach lurched violently to one side as the offside rear wheel dropped into a deep rut. The resulting imbalance rocked the vehicle, evicting her from her seat.
For a moment, from her position squashed under both Mary and John on the floor, Eleanor thought all would be well, that the coach would right itself. Then her world turned upside down as the coach toppled sideways into the ditch.
Mary cried out as her head cracked hard against the seat and was then ominously silent. John tried to brace himself, jamming his longer, stronger legs, hard onto the side, keeping his weight from crushing either of them. The sound of the horses neighing outside and the voice of Matthew soothing them while the grooms expertly cut the mangled traces, brought Eleanor back to her senses. She could scarcely breathe; she was trapped beneath the unconscious form of her maid. How was John? She prayed he wasn’t injured as well.
Then John gently eased Mary to one side and allowed Eleanor to draw a shaky breath. ‘Lay still, my lady.’ he instructed her. ‘We mustn’t rock the coach. We’re balanced on the lip of a deep drainage ditch; a sudden movement will send us plunging into several feet of icy water.’
She needed no further urging. ‘Are you hurt, John?’
‘No, bruised is all. Have you any injuries?’
‘I think not, but I fear Mary’s badly injured. What are the men doing? Will they try and right the coach or attempt to lift us out as it is?’
Matthews’s worried voice answered the question for her. He spoke to them through what was now the side but had previously been the floor of the coach. ‘My lady, sir, we daren’t move the coach until we have it stable. I’ve sent Tommy to the village for help. Jess, Davey and I will tie a rope on to the wheel and then fasten it to a tree across the road.’
‘Will it take long? Mary’s hurt and needs urgent attention.’
‘We’ll work as speedily as possible, my lady. But the weather’s worsening and it’ll soon be dark. Please keep still, movement might send you into the ditch.’
Eleanor began to feel cold as water seeped through the side of the coach. She stared at the far door, now facing skywards; Matthew was right, it would soon be dark and the temperature was dropping fast.
The village they had driven through was no more than a mile away. Tommy should be back anytime with help. There was no need to worry; accidents were an inevitable part of travelling along poor lanes. She tried to see how Mary did, but her maid’s face was trapped against the seat.
Carefully she inched her hand across and placed it on Mary’s neck, the sticky dampness she discovered there filled her with foreboding.
‘Mary, Mary, can you hear me? We’ll soon have you out of here. Please don’t worry; help will be here very soon.’ She received no answer, not even a whimper.
John couldn’t possibly hold himself away from them for much longer. There was the sound of a galloping horse thundering down the lane.
‘Thank God,’ Eleanor cried, ‘we are saved. Help has arrived.’
Chapter Twenty-one
Leo strode up and down the study; he had never been a patient man and waiting for news was the hardest part of any campaign. That the information he wanted would come, he had no doubt; failure was not a word he had in his vocabulary. His men were not only inquiring at little villages and farms but also visiting towns with pawn shops and jewellers. When Eleanor took her valuables to sell, within a day he would know about it.
Sam burst into the study, waving a much folded letter. ‘It has come, my lord, I think Jenkins and Sharpe have found Lady Upminster at last.’
Leo took the missive with a smile of relief and scanned its contents. For the first time since Christmas Eve he felt a glimmer of hope. Then his expression changed. ‘Good God, Sam, this doesn’t look good. She’s living at Wenham Manor and about to embark on a confrontation with a corrupt estate manager.’ He frowned, thinking fast. ‘Send messages to all the men to meet us at Wenham. There has been civil unrest in that area already and if she stirs the pot she could find herself in the middle of a riot.’
‘We can be ready to ride in an hour, my lord.’
‘Good. I’m glad Jenkins and Sharpe had the sense to stay put, God willing they can keep Ellie from harm until I reach her.’
He raced upstairs to change. Sam unwrapped a sword and scabbard from its protective covering of oilskin and handed them to Leo. ‘You’ll be needing this, my lord.’
Leo’s face was bleak as he strapped them on. ‘I will take my pistols and you, your rifle, Sam.’
‘Yes, sir, I have them here.’
They clattered back down the stairs and Brown
blanched when he saw the accoutrements of war so casually displayed. ‘My lord, I wish I had broken faith and told you where Lady Upminster was hiding. If any harm comes to her I shall never forgive myself.’
‘Forget it, man, I have.’ Leo patted the old butler’s shoulder and continued from the house.
Hero and Rufus seemed to sense something momentous was happening. They stamped impatiently and snorted; clouds of vapour encircled their heads. Leo vaulted into the saddle and shouted across to Sam. ‘It’s a bad day, Sam; I never thought to wear this sword again or to see you carrying a rifle.’
‘It’s a precaution, my lord. With luck we’ll have no cause to use them.’
Leo, not usually given to exchanges with his maker, sent up a fervent prayer Sam would prove to be right.
Eleanor heard Matthew shouting to the rider as he approached. His words sent a chill of foreboding slithering down her spine. ‘Surely you’ve not come alone, lad? Where are the others you went to fetch?’
‘They refused to come, sir. Those that bothered to answer my knock, that is.’
‘Then we’d best get on and sort this muddle out ourselves. We have the rope tied but it’s not as secure as I’d like.’ Matthew shouted into the coach. ‘Mr Jones, sir, can you move yourself, careful mind, to the side? We need all the weight over here, if the vehicle isn’t to slip when we lift the ladies out.’
John’s limbs must be tired from supporting his body for so long and she feared they wouldn’t obey him when he released the pressure. His reply was confident however.
‘When I shout, you hang on for your lives. Now!’
The coach creaked and rocked as John slid his boots down the door until they were either side of her legs. ‘I’ll roll sideways as you open the door, John, which should help prevent us sliding further into the water.’
‘Very well, my lady. You ready, lads?’
An enthusiastic chorus of assent rattled the windows. John launched himself against the door above his head and simultaneously she rolled herself across to join him. The coach held its position. The combined weight of three strongmen clinging onto the wheels, and the rope attached to the convenient tree trunk, had served its purpose.
John had the door open in a trice and leaning down, he gripped Eleanor’s arm. ‘Up you come, my lady. Careful now; keep leaning hard on the side.’
Eleanor had been about to suggest Mary be taken first but felt it prudent to follow John’s instructions. She was stiff and damp and her once smart outfit was wet and clung heavily to her legs. ‘I’m ready, John. What do I do now?’
‘If you’ll forgive me the liberty, I’m going to lift you up and then you must scramble through the door. Ready!’
His arms encircled her waist and she stretched up, straining to catch the door jamb with her fingers. The coach groaned ominously and moved towards the water. ‘Quick now, we don’t have much longer.’ John’s shoulder heaved under her bottom and at last her fingers found a purchase.
Grateful she was fit and slender, Eleanor, with John pushing her from behind, emerged headfirst through the door and dropped into the lane glad in the darkness her undergarments would have remained invisible.
She came up on to all fours and regained her feet. ‘I’m out, John. I’ll add my weight to the wheel. Matthew can help you with Mary.’ Her hands, in their sodden gloves, were almost too cold to function but desperation gave her the strength she needed. She prayed she could hang on hard enough to stop the coach plunging away, carrying Mary to a certain death.
John was working blind; he grovelled for Mary’s feet and dragged her limp body slowly towards him. His eyes were wet as he bent down and transferred his hold to grip under her arms and around her shoulders. They had worked together for years, had become fast friends, but as he clasped her to his heart he realised his feelings had somehow, without his knowledge or permission, changed. He now loved the woman he held so close.
This love gave him Herculean strength and with one heave he pushed her up into the waiting arms of Matthew. As her legs vanished through the gap the coach began its inexorable slide towards the waiting water.
‘John, John, get out quickly, we have Mary safe.’
The fibres of the rope tore. It couldn’t hold the coach much longer. Inside he braced his legs and climbed furiously for his life.
The rope snapped. The three men jumped back; there was nothing more they could do. The noise of the coach falling drowned out all other sounds. It toppled on its back and vanished into the ditch. Eleanor’s voice broke as she spoke. ‘Oh John, poor John, he was such a good man.’
‘Thank you, my lady, and I hopes to remain a good one for some years to come.’ John’s head poked through the door and his body wriggled after it. She could see little in the darkness. With Mary’s head cradled in her lap she sighed with relief and joy. ‘John, I can hardly believe it. How can you be alive? I heard the coach tumble into the ditch.’
He thumped down beside her, his boots squelched as he landed. ‘It’s stuck, my lady. When it tipped over the wheels must have snagged on the undergrowth and it held fast. Upside down, mind, and several inches in the water, but safe as houses it is now.’
‘Thank God, for that.’ A faint movement and groan captured their attention. ‘Mary? Can you hear me? You’re safe now. We are all safe.’
Mary moved her head and groaned again. ‘I have a mortal bad headache, my lady, and am that cold I cannot feel my feet.’
John knelt beside her. ‘For a while I thought we had lost you, my love, I’m so glad you’re safe.’ The endearment didn’t go unnoticed by Mary or her mistress.
‘Get along with you, John Jones. I’m as right as tuppence. Get up, you big lummox and give me a hand. I’m no good to anyone lying down here.’
The men got Mary to her feet. She swayed a little and complained bitterly about her head, but was otherwise able to move.
‘We’ll have to double up on the horses, my lady; if we don’t get you both back and into dry clothes, you’ll catch your deaths.’
‘You take Mary up with you, John. I’ll ride with Jess and Tommy can go with Davey. Matthew must go on ahead and lead the way.’ No one argued; her instructions made sense.
‘How will we even find our way home, it’s black as pitch.’ Mary said through chattering teeth.
‘They’ll find their own way, my dear; all we have to do is sit tight. Horses are sensible beasts; they’ll take a safe route, don’t you fret.’
The horses, even with their double burden, made better progress than the carriage. Barely an hour later the sorry troop clattered into the yard. Eleanor had been hoping they would be met by a rescue party worried at their late return. But the snow fell onto a deserted stable yard. The lanterns were unlit and the area dark and unwelcoming. Matthew’s roar of disapproval bounced around the empty yard causing both grooms and workmen to appear instantly to offer their assistance. Tommy, the stable boy, was despatched to rouse the indoor staff.
John handed his precious burden down to Matthew then vaulted from the saddle. ‘Give her here, Matt, I’ll take her. Smith will know what to do.’
Eleanor handed her reins to Jess and trudged after John, her feet and hands so cold she had no feeling in them. The servants’ door was flung open and welcome light flooded the path. Smith stood framed in the light like an elderly crow.
‘My lady, I’m so sorry, as darkness fell I assumed you were over-nighting in Norwich.’
‘Never mind that; as you can see Mary has been injured and requires your immediate attention.’
John bore Mary away upstairs leaving Eleanor alone within a circle of expectant faces. It was so hard to be the person responsible for making decisions. She shook the worst of the mud from her skirts and spoke to the head parlour maid. ‘Jenny, you are to assist me. I require a hot bath and a tray with soup and some bread and cheese brought to my chamber as soon as possible.’
Wearily she headed for the back stairs and met John returning. ‘How is Mary?’
/> ‘Feeling a lot better now she’s in the warm, my lady.’
‘I’m so glad. John, will you arrange for the coach and all my purchases to be recovered at first light?’
‘I will that, my lady; let’s hope we don’t get too much snow.’
Eleanor snuggled down, with a sigh of pleasure, and stretched her feet out to rest on the hot brick someone had thoughtfully placed in her bed. Full of vegetable pottage and fresh bread and cheese, her extremities finally thawed, she was ready to review the accident and its aftermath.
Coaching accidents were common, especially in the winter, and they were lucky to have escaped without permanent injury. However, the refusal of the villages to assist them was both unexpected and deeply worrying. The unrest and dissatisfaction was obviously far worse in East Anglia than in Kent. Of the dozen or so indoor staff only four had come with them, and were therefore totally trustworthy, and outside only five of the twenty men now employed could be relied upon in a crisis.
She felt sick and in spite of the brick at her toes she shivered violently. Not for the first time she regretted her rash move and wished she was safe at home in Monk’s Hall.
The sound of a maid rekindling the fire and Jenny opening the curtains woke her next morning. Bright sunlight spilled across the floor cheering Eleanor immensely. ‘Jenny, how is Mary this morning?’
‘Much recovered, my lady. She would be up if Smith allowed.’
‘I’ll go and see her as soon as I’m dressed; is there much snow?’
‘No, my lady, an inch at the most. Mr Jones set off with two heavy horses, the big cart and a dozen or so men. I reckon they’ll be back before midday.’
‘I hope so; it will be difficult without a closed carriage in this weather. It’s far too cold to use a chaise.’
‘I’m afraid your gown and pelisse may be ruined, my lady. Such a shame; they were ever so smart.’
‘Do the best you can, Jenny. If they’re irretrievable, I’m sure someone in the village could make use of them. I’ll wear my green corded gown and the matching redincoat today.’ Warmly dressed, she left through the hidden door in the panelling. This was the shortest route to Mary’s room in the servants’ wing. Reassured her maid was making a good recovery she completed her journey to the small dining-room down the narrow twisted staircase used by the staff. She seated herself at the table and waited for a footman to bring her breakfast. She had dispensed with a buffet and now ate whatever was sent in to her.
A Marriage of Convenience Page 15