Bassett stood by the bed looking down at his father.
Stirred by compassion for him, I moved to his side and instinctively sought and held his hand.
In that moment he was not the man I feared, but a son grief-stricken at his father’s death, and whom I wanted to comfort.
His hand gripped mine. Then suddenly his arm was around my shoulders and he was leading me from the room.
Together we went down the dimly lit stairs past the flickering candles.
In the hall old Jonathan waited anxiously, knowing there was trouble.
‘It’s the end, Jonathan,’ Bassett’s voice was strong but, a tone deeper with the emotion he held in check. ‘See to everything, will you?’
The old man’s eyes filled with tears and his aged back seemed to bend even more as his master left the Earth.
‘Of course. I’m very sorry, Sir Bassett.’
Bassett stiffened and I stared at the unfamiliar use of Bassett’s hereditary title.
Bassett turned towards his father’s study and opened the door. We moved into the dark room. A fire still burned brightly in the grate and Sir Hugh’s faithful hound, Juniper, raised sorrowful eyes to us and whined pitifully and knowingly.
Bassett stroked the dog’s head soothingly and sat down in his father’s old leather chair.
The firelight flickered, a log fell and sparks flew throwing strange shadows on the wall.
I knelt on the rug before the fire at Bassett’s feet.
I forgot my dislike of him, I forgot his cold treatment of me during the past months. I forgot even that he was my husband. In that small room, Bassett, now Sir Bassett Courtney, truly Master of Courtney, was just a young man grieving for his father, a man I wanted to comfort.
He bent forward, gazing into the fire, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together.
Overcome by a feeling of tenderness aroused by the look of sadness on his face, I took his strong hands in mine and laid my cheek against them.
He did not spurn my action and we sat for a long time saying nothing. Then, as if to relieve the pain he felt that his father would no longer sit in that very chair, would no longer amble through the great corridors of Courtney Hall, would no longer call me Victoria, Basset began to talk about Sir Hugh.
‘Poor father, he had such little happiness in his life. He may have seemed to you a weak insignificant man.’
‘No, Bassett, never. He was a gentle person who only wished to live in peaceful harmony.’
‘He never enjoyed the life of stress and strain attached to amassing the Courtney fortune,’ and once more Bassett’s tone was bitter as he spoke of his family’s wealth. ‘ He’s been happier since he handed that over to me.’
He paused and his voice was full of sadness.
‘But I knew he was always there if I needed his advice. And now he won’t be there any more.’
What could I say in comfort? I grieved for my own part at the loss of Sir Hugh, who had recently become my friend. And now that I had heard the full story surrounding himself and my mother, I felt even more love for him because he had loved my mother and had also been loved by her in return.
‘Sir Hugh told me about my mother,’ I told Bassett softly.
‘Did he? I’m glad. I thought you should have known long ago, but it was not my secret to reveal.’
‘That’s just what Georgiana said once.’
There was a moment’s silence then I said,
‘Poor Lady Courtney hasn’t had a happy life either knowing about it all.’
Bassett smiled, though the sadness remained in his eyes.
‘Even though she has been so cruel to you, you can still find pity for her?
I looked up into those deep brown eyes of his.
‘I understand now what my coming here must have meant for her, for you all. No doubt I would have done much the same in her position.’
‘I think not,’ Bassett said softly, ‘but I am thankful and grateful that you can forgive.’
We sat in silence in the firelight for some time, neither of us wanting to leave the safety of this cosy room. Neither wanted to face the reality beyond the door. Death, mourning and all the necessary arrangements which Bassett would have to make.
The funeral was a lavish affair. I had never seen such grandeur bestowed upon what was after all now a lifeless and useless body. It seemed to me that it would have been far kinder if all the people who arrived clad in black, the women who pressed handkerchiefs to their lips and dabbed their tearful eyes, had given Sir Hugh more affection and attention during his life, there would have been far more sense in it. Lady Courtney, now composed from her brief bout of what I supposed was genuine grief, now retained a stony expression and there was no trace of tears in her eyes.
The slow funeral procession seemed never-ending as it wound down the hill from Courtney Hall and to the small church, where only weeks before all the people who now followed in mournful guise, had attended Bassett’s wedding, for them a joyful occasion.
The whole village, I am sure, without exception, fell into step behind the family mourners and their tears were at least genuine sorrow. The solemn service soon over, the coffin was lowered into the cold earth. Sir Hugh’s grave had been placed next to his parents and beside his were further vacant plots for the rest of the Courtney family. I shuddered. This was a sorrowful place, and I knew Sir Hugh would have hated it as much as I did.
And so the funeral party returned to the Hall, Sir Bassett, and I, now Lady Courtney, how strange the title seemed, leading the way.
Poor Sir Hugh was gone, and now his son was truly Master of Courtney Hall. And as I watched his face, still showing traces of the natural grief he felt, I seemed to see it grow older and take on an even sterner expression now that he had complete control of the Courtney wealth.
Chapter Nine
The days passed quickly enough, for after the funeral, there were vast changes to be made as regards our living quarters. Those we had recently inhabited since our marriage were now vacated in favour of the main part of the Hall. Lady Courtney, now as the dowager Lady Courtney, so to speak, moved into the west wing which had been the home of Bassett and myself for such a short time.
‘You will have to take on more of the management of the house now, Louella. I shall insist upon it, even though mother may resist, for I think you should learn the running of this house as soon as possible.’
I felt he was implying that I had much to learn and perhaps he was justified in thinking this, for I had not much idea where to begin or what was expected of me.
‘You’ll also have to accompany me on business trips. I know this is perhaps unusual, women are expected to stay at home. But the trend seems to be that a woman should take more part in her husband’s affairs and I intend to see that you do.’
‘Yes, Bassett,’ I said meekly with far more acquiescence in my tone than I felt, for inwardly I was seething with indignation. But what was the point in showing this feeling? I knew from the past where it would lead me.
So, by degrees, with the patient and understanding help of Georgiana, Jonathan and the kitchen staff, I began to take over the reins as mistress of Courtney Hall. Needless to say, I received no help at all from Lady Courtney, but at least times were a little happier for I saw a good deal less of her than previously.
Millicent returned to the Hall, after a short absence. My newly acquired confidence in managing the household affairs suffered a sharp blow for her vicious tongue never let me forget who I was, nor how I had usurped her rightful position.
Christmas was upon us in no time and Bassett decided that though the Courtney family must, out of customary respect, have only a quiet festival, there was no reason why the villagers should suffer.
‘It’s always been the custom, Louella,’ he told me on one of the many sessions I now had to have in his study, receiving instructions as to what he required me to do. ‘That the Courtneys give a ball for the villagers to attend on New Year’
s Eve. Usually we hold our own banquet and ball on Boxing Day for all our family and guests, to which none of the villagers are invited. But on New Year’s Eve we provide the ballroom, the food and leave them to enjoy themselves. The Master of Courtney makes a customary appearance at midnight, but otherwise it is their evening to enjoy in their own way with none of the Courtneys present.’
‘And you want this ball for the villagers still to take place?’ I asked.
‘Yes. I have spoken to one or two of the villagers and though they feel perhaps they ought to join us in our period of mourning, I think that they would feel somewhat disappointed if thwarted of their usual revelry. So we shall still hold that one, but not our own.’
The next weeks therefore, preceding Christmas were for me not only extremely busy, but agonising with all the responsibility of making this banquet a success. Bassett left the entire arrangements to me, and had it not been for Georgiana’s support and advice, no doubt the villages would still be waiting for their evening’s pleasure.
As it was, I managed fairly well and the evening of the ball found me standing in the middle of the vast ballroom surveying the result of my efforts. All the weeks of ordering decorations, flowers, masses of food, an orchestra, all culminated in the result before my eyes.
Bright tinsel hung from every part of the room, shimmering in the soft light of thousands of candles—for what was more romantic than candlelight? A traditional Christmas tree stood in the corner, its topmost point almost touching the ceiling. From every branch there swung a gift for every member of the village. Bassett had said no expense was to be spared, and though I had sometimes wondered at my extravagance, Georgiana assured me that I was spending no more money than usual.
‘Bassett, more than any of his predecessors, yes, even poor, dear father, likes to give his tenants pleasure and reward for their loyalty,’ she told me.
Indeed he does, I thought to myself now as I viewed the result. Above my head hung a huge bunch of mistletoe and as I looked up at it, I visualised many a courtship being sealed beneath it tonight, and maybe several new beginnings.
‘Wishful thinking, Louella?’ a deep voice said behind me, and I swung round startled to see Bassett a few feet from me.
How foolish I felt, so I said crossly,
‘Of course not. Who would want to meet me beneath the mistletoe?’
Bassett smiled that sarcastic smile of his.
‘Why me, of course,’ and with swift steps he reached me.
Bassett swept me to him. I was powerless against his strength although I pushed against his chest.
For a moment his dark eyes gazed mockingly into mine. Then he bent his head and kissed me hard—so hard that my mouth was bruised.
I was startled and angry at the thrill of excitement which stirred within me. And my anger sought revenge.
I opened my mouth very slightly so that his lip forced its way between my teeth. Then, like any savage dog, I bit sharply. Bassett sprang away and clapped his hand to his mouth but not before I saw that I had drawn blood. His face was dark with anger.
‘You little vixen,’ he mumbled, his voice shaking.
Suddenly, he roared with laughter, his tones ringing through the great ballroom.
‘The girl has spirit, but I’ll tame you yet,’ his voice softened, and an almost gentle expression crossed his face.
‘Yes, little Louella, I’ll tame you yet,’ and he strode from the room.
I tried to smile to myself, to feel some satisfaction, but I was surprised at the realisation that I was neither angry now, nor pleased with what I had done. I was ashamed I had behaved in such a manner. Bassett had every right to kiss me, I told myself, my cheeks flaming. It was only because he was a gentleman that he forced no further attentions on me, coupled with the fact, of course, that he did not love me.
And above my head the mistletoe swung in mockery.
The ball was a huge success and greatly enjoyed by all the villagers. Bassett told me afterwards that when he went there at midnight, many of the villagers in making their thanks to him, had complimented me on my organisation and said it was quite the best they had ever attended. This pleased Bassett and he seemed to have forgotten the affair of the kiss under the mistletoe. My womanly pride suffered a blow for obviously the kiss had meant nothing to him from the start, but I had tried, by repelling him so viciously, to turn it into something he had never intended.
I was glad, however, that the villagers had enjoyed themselves, for little did I realise when I worked so hard at the preparations that they were to have, little enjoyment for a long time after that night. Indeed, they were about to enter a time of severe hardship and misery. On the following morning, on the very first day of the New Year, the snows began.
At first, the snow seemed harmless enough, beautifying the countryside with its layer of virgin white. But day after day the snow continued to fall, until the whole surrounding land was enveloped in deep drifts. Many sheep were lost on the hillsides, and the men of the village fought their way through miles of snow in the hope of finding them.
Bassett soon shed any superiority as Master of Courtney and joined his men in the battle against the weather. Night after night, day after day, he worked side by side with his men. And they loved him for it.
This, then, was what the old men of the village had foretold in their warnings of flooding, for it soon became apparent to everyone that when a thaw set in, the hillside streams and the river itself would never cope with the vast deluge of water.
Preliminary steps were taken for the villagers to salvage as much as possible from their homes and the outbuildings at Courtney Hall, fortunately there were many, soon became crammed with the belongings of the villagers.
The threat of flooding hung over us for weeks, but it was not until the beginning of February that I knew the fear would become a reality. The snow stopped falling and with it came a spell of milder weather. The snow on the hills began to melt rapidly, aggravated by a wind which sprang up and reached gale force. It blew the remaining snow into drifts, and drove the water of the streams surging down into the valley to wreck the villagers’ homes.
I was coming down the wide main staircase when the huge door was flung wide. The gale, which had been raging all night, filled the hall, rippling the carpet and billowing the heavy curtains. As if part of the rushing wind, Bassett forged into the hall. Catching sight of me, he stopped and hesitated. He swept back his windblown hair impatiently with his hand.
His stern expression was even more serious, almost desperate, than I had thought possible.
Sir Bassett Courtney was a worried man.
Forgetting everything but the fact that something was obviously very wrong, I picked up my skirts and ran down the remaining few steps.
‘Bassett,’ I cried, ‘what is wrong?’
‘The river, Louella, the river has burst its banks—as we feared.’
‘Oh, Bassett, how dreadful. Has it reached the houses yet?’
‘No, thank God, but it won’t be long.’
He sat down in the heavy, carved oak chair and leant back wearily.
We looked at each other and both thought the same thing.
The tentative plans we had made for sheltering the homeless villagers must be put into action and quickly.
I tried to smile comfortingly, but now I was worried too. There was suffering and danger ahead for the Courtneys and their people.
And I knew who would get the blame.
I, who was believed to have stolen the Courtney dagger, would be held responsible by several for having brought disaster once more upon the Courtneys.
But there was nothing I could do. I could not undo something I had never done.
At that moment Lady Courtney followed by Millicent, Georgiana and even Evelyn who had recently come up from the village to stay at Courtney Hall because of the danger of flooding to her home, joined us in the hall.
Bassett turned to face them as he rose.
‘The riv
er has bursts its banks. I’m sending most of the village folk whose homes are threatened up here. They’ll stay here until their homes are safe for them to return.’
Lady Courtney’s eyes held disapproval, Georgiana’s anxiety, but the look which passed between Millicent and Evelyn puzzled me the most. They looked really frightened.
‘Bassett, is this really necessary?’ Lady Courtney was saying. ‘All those dreadful people trampling round our home.’
‘Yes, it is necessary,’ Bassett said curtly and his eyes met his mother’s in determination.
Lady Courtney shrugged and turned away.
‘As you wish. ’Tis no more than I expected since we are now destined to misfortune and degradation since the theft of the dagger.’
The others followed her to the drawing-room and Bassett and I were alone again.
I could see Bassett was angry with his mother for her lack of compassion for the homeless villagers.
He turned to me. Taking me gently by the shoulders, he looked me straight in the eyes.
‘Louella, take care of the villagers for me.’ His voice hardened. ‘Mother is useless in a crisis like this.’
‘Yes, Bassett, I will. Don’t worry, we’ll see they have all they need.’
He smiled, but the worry never left his eyes. He brushed my forehead with his lips.
‘Thank you, dearest,’ he murmured, and before I could be sure of what he said, he had gone from the house and away down to the village to send the people up to Courtney Hall.
I went in search of Mary and Jonathan. There was a great deal we had to do to prepare food and beds for our guests.
Cook, bless her kind heart, was a marvel at making what provisions she had go a long way. She at once began to bake and cook, and soon trays of pastries, cakes and bowls of warm soup and the like were covering all parts of her vast kitchen.
Mary and I began to arrange the sleeping quarters. We decided to put the women and young children in the ballroom, and the men and older boys in the dining-room and library. The older folk would be given the bedrooms as far as possible with more comfort. Most of the villagers would be told to bring as much bedding as possible, for we had no spares other than the spare beds.
Pride of the Courtneys Page 13