by Janet Woods
Branston looked around him. ‘Neither can I, sir. Where would you like your supper?’
‘Place the tray on the usual table. Branston . . . have you been drinking?’
‘Yes, sir. It was the brandy you gave the staff for Christmas.’
‘I gave you brandy for Christmas? I thought I gave you all a cash bonus.’
‘You did, sir, and it was very generous of you. The staff are all pleased that you decided to carry on the brandy tradition that Mr John Kern began, as well. He was thoughtful, was the late Mr Kern, and he brought you up well, if I may take the liberty of saying so. The staff of Fierce Eagles is pleased to be of service to you. Merry Christmas, sir, and to you, Miss Maitland.’
‘Thank you, Mr Branston,’ Sarette said.
Magnus opened his mouth, then thought better of what he was about to say and shut it again. ‘Please close the door on the way out, Branston.’
‘Yes, sir, and rest assured, I’ll make sure the staff doesn’t tell anyone about what I observed tonight.’
When the door closed behind Branston, they gazed at each other and began to laugh.
Less than two miles away Flynn Collins sat at the farmer’s table and tackled a slice of fruit pudding swimming in custard. His stomach was already distended to capacity by the huge dinner he’d consumed.
He envied the farmer his plump, rosy-faced wife, and his comfortable farmhouse with the fire roaring up the chimney. It was a cosy rookery, and something he’d never have now. He was a criminal, sentenced to death for murder, and his only hope was to get away to America and start a new life. But first he had to make sure that the price on his head was no longer valid.
He’d barely finished his pudding when the woman of the house said in her round Dorset voice, ‘Another slice of pudding, then, Mr Doyle?’
For a moment he wondered which bit of pudding she was referring to, for the farmer’s wife had proved to have a need in her that her older husband seemed unable to satisfy.
‘Thank you, Mrs Perkins, but it will take me a week to sleep off what I’ve already eaten.’
Cheerfully, she said, ‘No sleeping on the job now, Mr Doyle. And you need your strength while there’s still a furrow to be ploughed.’ She plonked another dollop of pudding on to his plate.
Farmer Perkins sighed, scooped up the last spoonful from his dish and patted the expansion of his stomach as he moved to the rocking chair by the fire. ‘Though I do say so myself, my Betty be the best cook around here. Not even the cook at Fierce Eagles can bake a pork pie like my Betty. It’ll be open house there over New Year’s Day. Annie and myself will be taking advantage of his smuggled brandy. The Kerns allus kept a good cellar. I’ve heard tell that Mr Kern has a woman staying with him, Betty. ’Tis said she’s a pretty piece.’
‘I heard she was the old man’s fancy first. And Magnus Kern had his own fancy woman. I heard tell that she’d run off and married a foreign count. There’s no accounting for taste. Mr Kern be keeping it in the family, I expect.’
Flynn remembered the girl who’d been with Kern in Dorchester. A pretty little thing. He wouldn’t have minded a go at her himself, but she was quality, and girls like her didn’t go for rough types.
Betty snorted. ‘The gentry has different ways to ours, and it’s not for us to comment on them if we knows what’s good for us.’
‘To be sure,’ Flynn said, and sent Betty Perkins a sly wink.
Betty placed a glass of port in the hands of the men and they sat in silence, sipping it and gazing into the fire. After a while Alfred’s eyes closed and he began to snore loudly.
The empty glass was plucked from the farmer’s fingers before he dropped it. It was placed on the table. Gazing at him, Betty smiled. Softly, she said, ‘Well, Mr Doyle, do you have a little Christmas gift for Betty Perkins?’
Despite his full stomach, Flynn swelled against his trousers.
She placed her warm, plump hand against him and chuckled. ‘That’s a lusty little pigeon, and I’ve got just the place to hide him in.’
‘What if Alfred wakes?’ he whispered.
‘He’ll sleep for two hour, at least. If you delivered your gift right here on the table he wouldn’t even stir.’
Flynn swallowed. He wasn’t about to risk it. ‘Come out to the stable in a little while.’
He shared his accommodation with the plough horse, an amiable creature with a broad back. The farmer worked them both hard, but kept them comfortable. He had fresh straw for his stall every night. The stable was built of solid stone and was warmed by a stove.
Betty joined him in the stable loft and spread herself on the blanket-covered mattress between the bales, which kept out any draughts. Her thighs were thick, strong columns and her breasts large enough to hide his head between and suffocate, if he’d a mind to.
The first time, she’d approached him she’d said, ‘I’ve been wed to Alfred for five years and I have a pressing need for an infant to suckle at my breast. Don’t reckon I’ll get one from my husband after all this time. You’re a good-looking feller with a brain between your ears. I could carry one of yours if you’ve a mind to be generous. No one need know.’
Her words had touched Flynn. Betty would be a good mother, and any child she had would be received into a loving home. He liked the thought of knowing that when he went to America he’d be leaving a little cuckoo in the farmer’s nest. It would make up for the low wage.’
‘No luck yet then, Betty girl?’ he said now.
She gave a secretive little grin. ‘There be signs, but it’s early days yet. Anyway, I like the way you do it to me, with all the touching and stuff. It makes me feel real good. Two minutes and it’s all over with Alfred. I reckon he learned how to do it from the ram. Do you love me, Mr Doyle?’
‘Of course I love you, Annie,’ he lied. ‘And there’s something I want you to do for me the next time you go into Poole. Deliver a letter. It’s a secret, mind.’
‘Not if it’s to a woman,’ she said sharply. ‘I’m not sharing you with anyone else.’
He could have pointed out her own behaviour to her, but let it pass. ‘No, it’s not.’
‘That’ll be the day after tomorrow then.’ She reached out and cupped him in her hands. ‘But tell me where, afterwards, Mr Doyle, for I’ve got a real pressing need on me now.’
Magnus had been right. Gerald did apologize for his bad behaviour.
‘I got a frightful dressing down in Pa’s study. He was furious, and threatened to send me up North to work in the Liverpool branch with brother Oscar if my behaviour doesn’t improve. I felt as though I was still ten years old. Still, something good came out of it. Jessica Fenwick hasn’t spoken to me since, but her injured expression says it all. Olivia gives me the cold shoulder. She’ll come round eventually, I expect. I don’t know what she sees in Jessica. The woman is a spiteful pest.’
Magnus laughed. ‘Rather you than me.’
Now, I must talk to Sarry. I want her to know that my proposal was sincere, and I need to know what her answer is.’
‘Save it for New Year, Gerald. Sarette is dashing about the house like a gadfly. She’s busy trying to sort out the guest bedrooms, something Verna forgot to do. She’s very efficient, and has the household staff organized. You would have thought she was brought up to it. She’s rewritten the menu, and has made me a list. She has me organized too. I’m to take her into Dorchester tomorrow to gather it all together.’
‘Has she indicated any interest in my proposal.’
‘Actually, I think she’s forgotten all about it, Gerald. I wouldn’t count on Sarry accepting. In fact, I’d wager she’ll turn you down.’
‘How much?’
‘I wager ten guineas.’
‘You’re not risking much.’
‘Fifty guineas then.’
There was a short pause, then Gerald said, ‘She hasn’t accepted you, has she?’
‘Good Lord. I haven’t even asked her. I’m much more subtle than you with a woman, my
friend. In fact, I’ve been thinking that we should abandon this first wager we have on her. She knows about the legacy now, thanks to you. How would she feel if she knew we’d laid bets on which of us will marry her for it. Besides, I’m pretty sure she’s enamoured by me.’
There was a sudden draught down the chimney and a click behind him. The papers on his desk flurried. ‘Excuse me a minute.’ He placed the earpiece on the desk, strode across the room towards the door and yanked it open. The hall was empty. It must have been a draft that closed the door. He went back to the telephone. ‘What were we talking about?’
‘You know very well. You said Sarry is enamoured with you? Did she say so?’
‘I can tell.’
‘You couldn’t differentiate between love and concussion from a clout on the head. And it’s not just the legacy with me, Mags. Sarry’s a fetching little thing and we have fun together. I’m quite taken with her.’
‘You’re only taken with Sarry because you feel threatened by Jessica Fenwick.’
‘Damn you then. I’ll take your fifty guineas, and I’ll take the girl off you.’
‘The wager is still on then.’ Magnus hung up.
From her position on the landing, Sarette watched Magnus stride from the library and cross the hall to the drawing room. He opened the door and looked inside. ‘Sarry?’ From there he went to the morning room and did the same.
She composed herself and began to descend. As he turned, she smiled and said, ‘Magnus, did you call me?’
His gaze searched her face, then he smiled. ‘You look flushed. You should stop rushing around.’
‘Yes, I should. What did you want me for?’
‘Gerald was on the telephone. He wanted to apologize to you. Too late now. He’s gone.’
‘Is that all he said?’
‘Yes. Were you expecting something else? You can always call him.’
‘It can wait until New Year.’
‘You’re not thinking of accepting Gerald’s proposal, are you?’
‘Of course I’m thinking about it. You said he would make me a good husband, and told me to consider it. Have you changed your mind about that?’
He hesitated, then said, ‘I have. What if I enforced my guardianship and refuse to consent to the marriage?’
She needed to punish him for what he’d done. She needed to punish both of them.
‘First, you could refuse until your eyes turned blue, for all the difference it would make to my decision. Second, I haven’t agreed yet. Third, you’d have to give me a good reason, otherwise I’d simply ignore your advice and dispense with your claim to guardianship. She gave him the chance to confess about the wager. ‘Do you have a good reason?’
He shrugged. ‘Not one that I’d care to voice at the moment.’
‘That’s what I thought. Excuse me now, Magnus. I need to go and make sure the tablecloths are free of stains.’
‘Damn the tablecloths, I’m not interested in discussing domestic arrangements. Sarry, please, I’m asking you not to accept this proposal unless you’re very sure you love Gerald.’
Like him, yes. Love him? Sarette was very sure that she didn’t. She turned and gazed at him, waiting for him to explain, to lessen her hurt. Tell me you love me . . . lie to me. I’ll believe anything you tell me, she thought.
He did neither, and the shock in his dark eyes made her ache inside when she said, ‘Have you considered that it might be possible that I am in love with Gerald.’
She walked away without another word.
Seventeen
The summons to Magnus’s study came just after he returned home from Dorchester.
Sarette had been helping Verna dust the rooms and make up the beds for the overnight guests expected for New Year’s Day.
She finished what she was doing, then presented herself to him, pink-faced from her exertions and straightening her apron. She blew a stray strand of hair from her face, and smiled at him. ‘Branston said you wanted to see me.’
‘You shouldn’t be working in the house. We have extra servants.’
‘Verna won’t allow them in the bedrooms. She’s worried they might steal something. I don’t mind helping her. I’m enjoying it.’
‘Are you managing the arrangements, all right? My former housekeeper always used to do it all before.’
‘Verna is very efficient, and we’re managing everything together. I’m learning from her. It might hold me in good stead one day, in case I need to be a housekeeper.’
‘Which is doubtful. But it might stand you in good stead when you’re married, and have a home to run.’ He indicated the seat by the fire, and took the one opposite. ‘Remember me telling you that I had someone searching for any relative you might have. I’m afraid nobody has been turned up. Do you want me to continue the search?’
‘Thank you for trying, and for keeping me informed, but no, I don’t see the point. My father never mentioned us having any living relatives.’
‘We were careful not to reveal your circumstances during our enquiries. The world is full of fraudsters and trickery.’
Magnus and Gerald were living proof of that, she thought sadly. She said, ‘It certainly is,’ then she rose. ‘I must go and help Verna, else your guests will end up having to make their own beds.’
He moved towards the door, barring her way. ‘Are you still annoyed with me?’
Slanting her head to one side she gazed up at him. ‘Would it worry you if I were?’
‘Not particularly.’
She laughed, she couldn’t help it. ‘You know, you’re the most arrogant man I’ve ever set eyes on. Move out of my way else I’ll stamp on your foot.’
‘I’m quite sure I deserve every snub, slight and physical offence you care to offer me.’
‘Oh, please, Magnus . . . humbleness just doesn’t suit you.’
‘I never know the right way to act around you.’
‘Just be yourself . . . you might be annoying, but I think I like you better that way.’
He grinned at that, and moved aside. ‘By the way, Gerald will be here shortly. He intends to reprise his proposal.’
Her eyes flew open at the thought. ‘He’ll have to wait until I’ve finished what I’m doing.’
‘Have you decided yet?’
‘No.’
‘If you’re unsure, you shouldn’t accept him.’
She didn’t need his advice. What did he know about marriage, when his experience was limited to mistresses? How many women had he taken to his bed, promised them all they desired, then taken advantage of them, and taken their feelings lightly. Jealousy twisted its blade in her heart, then sliced into her tongue so every word she uttered was forked with insincerity. She hated herself for not being as honest as she wanted to be.
‘Your advice is appreciated. Thank you for trying to find any kin I might have. I think you must be disappointed that I must still impose on your generosity.’
He drawled, ‘Don’t presume to know my mind, Sarry. You’re wrong if you imagined I was trying to get rid of you.’
‘I didn’t imagine anything of the sort.’ She shrugged, and altered her train of thought. ‘Yes, I did think that. I’m sorry.’
‘So you should be.’ He stepped aside and allowed her to leave the room.
She was forced to find time for Gerald when he arrived.
‘I apologize for embarrassing you.’ Gerald shuffled the toe of his shoe in the carpet. ‘My father said that I must honour the proposal. He is waiting in the study with Magnus.’
Sarette gave Gerald the opportunity to withdraw his declaration, sure that he would. ‘You’d been drinking . . . are you really sure that’s what you want?’
‘I wasn’t too drunk to know what I was doing.’ His eyes avoided hers and he gave a defeated sort of sigh. ‘We get on well, and we have fun together, and my father likes you.’
‘Which is immaterial because I wouldn’t be marrying your father.’
He gave a bit of a grin. ‘Jus
t as well, I’d hate it if you became my step-mamma.’
Sarette laughed. ‘Yes, I suppose it would be a bit silly to have a stepmother younger than yourself.’
‘Then what’s your answer?’
She wondered why saying yes to Gerald was so difficult when he was a perfectly presentable and clever young man. ‘Do you love me?’
‘Lor, yes . . . I forgot about the affection bit. Would I have asked you if I didn’t care for you?’
She couldn’t bear to hear him avoid the one issue that should be at the core of a happy marriage, and she hardened her heart as she remembered the demeaning wager. ‘I’m still thinking it over. Marriage to you was not something I’d ever aspired to, and your proposal was unexpected.’
His face flushed and he winced. ‘The intention was always there, I was just a little premature in announcing it. What must you think of me?’
Sarette thought Gerald was not a very good liar, and she was not going to allow him to appeal to her heart. He was not a small boy who’d been naughty and obliged to beg forgiveness from his mother, while sure it would be forthcoming. He was a man, and a man experienced with women, no doubt.
Even so, the trapped expression in his blue eyes was hard to bear. ‘I want to think about this. I’ll give you my answer in March – on my birthday.’
The expression on his face became one of quiet resignation, and there was more than a hint of desperation in his eyes when he murmured, ‘Of course.’
‘You realize that there is already some unpalatable talk about me.’
‘Which nobody who knows you believes, and for which, on behalf of my family I apologize profoundly. What about Magnus? He knows what I’m about and will expect to be informed.’
‘When I’ve given you a definitive answer he will be.’ Then he can collect his fifty pieces of silver, Judas, she thought. ‘Besides, I’m not really interested in Magnus’s thoughts on the matter.’
Gerald looked a bit worried. ‘I thought he seemed quiet. Perhaps an affirmative news would cheer him up.’
‘I daresay he’ll be glad to get the problem I present to him off his hands. After all, if people are talking about me, then they must be talking about him, too, since I live in his home.’