by Dilly Court
‘I refused help from Rufus earlier, and I regret that now, but we can’t go on like this.’
‘Leave it to me,’ Percy said, frowning. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
Byron emptied his full basket into a bin. ‘Come to the hut and have a rest, Nettie. You look done in.’
‘It’s the heat and the dust, as well as these wretched little insects. They keep crawling down my neck. I’m just thankful they don’t bite like fleas and bed bugs.’ She walked slowly to the hut and found Lisette and Constance were already there and they were exclaiming excitedly over a basket of bread rolls and a slab of butter wrapped in a cabbage leaf.
‘I can’t believe it,’ Constance said, grabbing a roll and breaking it in two. ‘It’s as if a good fairy heard our prayers.’
Lisette seized a roll and bit into it. ‘I don’t care where this came from, it’s so good.’
Nettie helped herself and sat down on her bed to savour the bread and butter; this was not the time for false pride. It must have been Rufus who sent the food, most probably to prove her in the wrong, but at this moment she did not care, and she ate hungrily. Constance was about to snatch another roll, but Nettie sent her a warning glance.
‘Don’t forget Percy and Byron, and we ought to save some for our supper.’
Constance sat back, pouting. ‘But I’m still hungry. I wish Duke would arrive on a white charger and carry me back to my house in Paris.’
‘It’s his house now, don’t forget.’ Nettie was in no mood to humour her. ‘Anyway, I thought you were in love with Percy.’
‘I am, of course, and Percy is the love of my life, but he can’t provide for me.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong.’ Percy lifted the canvas flap and placed another basket on the floor at Constance’s feet. ‘I raced to the kitchen and persuaded Cook to give us enough flour, lard and salt to make bread for days to come. She’s also promised to keep by any leftovers that would normally have gone to feed the pigs.’ He seized a roll and buttered it generously.
‘I won’t eat the slops saved for swine,’ Lisette said icily. ‘But I would love a glass of wine now, and a siesta before supper.’
Byron ducked under the canvas and sat down beside Nettie. ‘No chance of that, I’m afraid, Ma. We’ve only got a couple of minutes and we’ll be back at work.’ He grinned mischievously and placed a bottle of wine on the floor. ‘This, however, is for tonight. Your pa caught up with me as I was filling the poke, Nettie. He gave me this and said that the portrait is taking shape.’
‘Why didn’t he come to see me?’
‘He said he was expected in the dining room, so he didn’t want to offend Mrs Norwood by being late, but he sends his love.’
‘Maybe he’s our guardian angel.’ Lisette gazed longingly at the wine. ‘A glass of that would make the afternoon seem less tedious.’
Nettie moved the bottle from Lisette’s reach. ‘Byron is right. This will keep until tonight, and we’ll dine royally – at least I hope we will. I’ve never made rabbit stew before, but the salt will help to bring out the flavour. We just need a metal trivet or a tripod so that I can hang the pan over the fire.’
‘That was the bell.’ Byron put a roll in his pocket and stood up. ‘It’s time we were back in the hop garden.’
‘Garden,’ Lisette said bitterly. ‘It’s not like my beautiful garden at the castle.’
‘It’s bread and butter, Ma.’ Percy helped her to her feet. ‘And wine, tonight. Maybe this place isn’t so bad after all.’
Byron held his hand out to Nettie. ‘We’ll get through this somehow, and when we reach London I’ll see if my old employer will take me back. He offered to train me as an articled clerk, and maybe I should have accepted.’
Nettie smiled. ‘You’re a fair-minded man, Byron. I think you’d make a very good solicitor if you wanted to go that way.’ She covered the basket with a cloth and stood up. ‘But we’ll need to pick a lot more hops before we have enough money to move on. Hopefully the police will have given up searching for my pa, but London is our home, and I can’t see us living anywhere else.’
‘Not even here?’ Byron said casually.
‘Hop picking?’
‘No, I meant could you see yourself living in the big house?’
‘What a strange question. There’s little enough chance of that. What are you saying, Byron?’
‘Nothing, really.’
‘No, you meant something. Tell me.’
‘I think Rufus Norwood is sweet on you, Nettie.’
She tucked the basket under her arm. ‘Nonsense. We squabble every time we meet.’
Byron raised his eyebrows, saying nothing.
‘You’re being ridiculous,’ Nettie added, tossing her head. ‘Come on, or we’ll be in trouble for being late.’
When it came to cooking the stew, Byron made up the fire and Percy, with his recently acquired talent for scrounging, produced a trivet, and the pot was hung over the flames and left to bubble gently for an hour. The meal was delicious and they sat round the campfire, savouring the stew to the last drop, which they mopped up with what remained of the bread. Byron and Percy drank the last two bottles of beer and Nettie, Lisette and Constance shared the wine. For the first time since they had left the castle, everyone seemed content and there were no complaints. Replete and exhausted from the day’s toil, they remained where they were until the sun plummeted below the horizon and the shadows lengthened.
Lisette shivered and rose to her feet. ‘I’m ready for bed.’
‘Me, too.’ Constance yawned and stood up, rubbing her eyes like a sleepy child. ‘It’s such hard work – I’m worn out.’
‘Come along then. I don’t like walking through the spinney on my own.’ Lisette set off in the direction of the huts and Constance blew a kiss to Percy before trailing after her.
Nettie watched them go, stifling a sigh as she began clearing up after the meal. Neither Lisette nor Constance ever gave a thought to the work that went into making a fire or preparing food, let alone washing a cup or a plate.
‘I suppose I’d better wash the pots in the river.’
Byron nudged Percy. ‘We’ll do that. You’ve earned a rest.’
She looked from one to the other. ‘Are you sure? You won’t simply go for a swim and forget about it, will you?’
‘Certainly not,’ Byron said firmly. ‘And that goes for my brother, too.’
Percy nodded, and although Nettie was not sure she believed them, it was too tempting an offer to refuse. ‘Thank you.’ She stood up, gazing at the fiery sunset and the sky livid with gashes of scarlet and gold. ‘I think I might go for a stroll along the river bank before I turn in.’
Byron was on his feet. ‘Don’t go too far.’
She laughed. ‘I suppose you’re afraid of losing the only person in our hut who’s a good cook.’
‘And a good friend,’ he said softly.
Nettie smiled and walked on. The air was balmy with a hint of dampness rising from the warm earth. The bitter scent of the willows mingled with the smell of the warm grass crushed beneath her feet, and the honeyed perfume of clover from the surrounding fields. Away from the cramped, noisy conditions in the camp the serenity and peace of the countryside calmed her worries, and she felt as if she had entered another world. As she skirted the bend in the river she came upon a pool where the water was so clear she could see the bottom where the pebbles gleamed like jewels in the last fiery rays of the sunset. She was hot and dusty after the day’s work and she had the sudden urge to plunge in and allow the cool clear water to soothe her aching limbs.
She glanced over her shoulder, and as there was no one about, she gave in to temptation, undid the buttons on her gown and allowed it to slip to the ground, followed by her petticoat, and her stays. Wearing only her chemise, she stepped into the shallows. Placing one foot in front of the other, she went deeper and deeper until the water was up to her waist, and then she crouched down, ducking her head beneath the surface
. Wishing she had learned to swim, she took her feet off the bottom, but sank immediately and had to struggle to regain her footing. She burst through the surface, shaking droplets from her long dark hair, and it was then she became aware that she was being watched. The wet cotton clung to her body, leaving little to the imagination and she crossed her arms instinctively to cover her breasts.
‘Why are you spying on me?’ she demanded angrily.
Chapter Sixteen
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Rufus glared at her, his slanting eyebrows drawn together in an ominous frown.
‘What I do is none of your business.’ Nettie shivered as a cool breeze skimmed the surface of the pool. ‘Please go away.’
He stepped into the water, holding out his hand. ‘The currents are dangerous, Nettie. You only have to take a step or two in the wrong direction and you could be swept away.’
She hesitated, gazing uncertainly at the swirling water beyond the trailing withies of the weeping willow. ‘I can manage on my own.’
‘A girl was drowned a little further downriver just a month ago. Let me help you from the water, and then I’ll leave you to make your own way back.’ Rufus glanced round at the deepening shadows. ‘The light is fading fast. Take my hand, please.’
‘Don’t fuss, Rufus,’ Nettie said crossly, but the river that had seemed so inviting minutes earlier now looked dark and menacing, with danger lurking in its depths. She was chilled to the bone and she felt herself slipping on the stones as an undercurrent tugged gently at first, but with increasing strength.
‘Take my hand.’ Rufus waded closer and she allowed him to help her to the bank without further protest. If she were to be honest it was a relief to feel solid ground and warm soil beneath her feet, but she was stiff with cold and shivering. Rufus took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.
‘You need to get your clothes on before you catch a chill or worse. At this time of the year it gets cold quickly after dark.’ He scooped up her discarded garments and handed them to her. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t look.’
‘I’m all right now, thank you,’ Nettie said hastily. ‘You don’t have to wait for me.’
He turned his back on her. ‘You might find it difficult to explain why you arrive in camp wearing my jacket. The hoppers are always looking for something or someone to talk about, and I imagine you and your companions must already be the subject of many campfire discussions.’
‘I don’t see why. We’re just the same as everyone else.’
‘If you think that, you’re more naïve than I supposed. The people who come hop picking are the salt of the earth, but you have a countess and a very spoiled young French lady in your party.’
‘That’s not fair.’ Stung by Rufus’s last remark, Nettie went to stand beneath the trailing foliage of the willow before stepping out of her sodden chemise. She abandoned any attempt to put on her stays and wrapped them in a bundle with her wet clothing. At least her dress was warm and dry, and it was a relief to feel the life coming back to her numbed toes as she put on her stockings and boots. Maybe she had been foolish to go in the water – she most certainly would not make the same mistake again – but she had no intention of admitting her folly. She tapped Rufus on the shoulder and returned his damp jacket.
‘Thank you for that.’
‘I am on your side, you know.’
His face was in shadow, but there was a note of sincerity in his voice, and Nettie found it almost possible to believe him, but not quite. Each time she found herself warming to him she recalled the circumstances of their first two meetings. She had a vague suspicion that he saw her as a challenge, and his interest in her was simply due to pique – a man as handsome, charming and wealthy as Rufus Norwood could have his pick of young women, and he was obviously used to getting his own way. A spoiled only child, the darling of his overbearing mother, and the white hope of his adoring father, Rufus had never known what it was to want for anything, and she suspected that his will was very rarely crossed.
‘If you walk on I’ll follow you,’ Nettie said coolly.
He turned on his heel and walked away, without saying a word, but he came to a sudden halt as they reached the spinney.
‘Lights,’ he said brusquely. ‘It seems that your friends are out looking for you.’
Nettie glanced over his shoulder. ‘I think it best if I go on alone.’
‘Are you ashamed to be seen with me?’
‘No, it’s not that. If the other workers think we’re being singled out for special treatment, maybe that’s because you and Percy are friends, and I don’t want to add to that.’ She slipped past him. ‘Thank you again. I am grateful.’ She broke into a run, stopping only when she reached the trees.
Byron and Percy were searching the spinney, but their relief on finding her quickly turned to anger when she explained the reason for her dishevelled appearance.
‘What the hell were you thinking off,’ Byron demanded. ‘Going in the water at this time of night and on your own was madness.’
‘No harm came to me,’ Nettie said defensively. ‘I’m here now.’
‘You might have drowned,’ Percy added crossly. ‘You could have been carried downriver by the current.’
‘Well I’m quite safe and I didn’t ask you to come looking for me.’ Nettie was about to walk on when a shot rang out, followed by a loud groan. She spun round, peering into the gathering gloom. ‘I think someone is hurt.’
‘It’s only one of the hoppers out shooting rabbits,’ Byron protested as she headed into the darkness. ‘Come back, Nettie. You’ll get yourself shot.’
Ignoring his pleas for her to stop, Nettie ran back into the clearing and in the flickering light of Byron’s lantern she saw Rufus, who had fallen to his knees, one arm hanging limply at his side and blood oozing through his shirtsleeve.
‘Go back, all of you,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘And whoever fired that shot had better show themselves.’
There was a scuffle in the undergrowth and the sound of booted feet running in the opposite direction.
‘I’ll get them, Rufus.’ Percy raced after the culprit, leaving Nettie and Byron to help Rufus to his feet.
‘It’s nothing,’ he said lamely. ‘A few pellets of lead shot, that’s all.’
Nettie undid his cuff and rolled back his sleeve, ignoring his protests. ‘Hold the lantern higher, Byron. This looks nasty.’
‘It’s more blood than actual damage.’ Rufus winced, and even allowing for the half-light Nettie could see that his face was ashen.
Byron passed the lantern to Nettie and hooked Rufus’s good arm round his shoulders. ‘Let’s get you home. You need a doctor to take a look at those wounds.’
‘Yes,’ Nettie added anxiously. ‘You’ve already lost a lot of blood.’
It was a long walk to the house for an injured man, and his steps were faltering by the time they reached the front entrance. Nettie hammered on the door until one of the maids answered the urgent summons. The girl stared at Rufus in horror, seemingly struck dumb.
‘Let us in,’ Nettie said firmly. ‘Fetch your master and tell him there’s been an accident. Don’t alarm your mistress.’
The maid backed away. ‘Yes, miss.’
‘I can speak for myself,’ Rufus staggered a few steps and sat down heavily on a spindly hall chair. ‘Thanks, Byron.’
‘Someone should be sent to fetch the doctor,’ Nettie said anxiously. ‘Do you feel faint? Perhaps you ought to lie down.’
Rufus managed a weak smile. ‘Don’t fuss, Nettie.’
‘At least you haven’t lost your sense of humour,’ Nettie said, trying not to laugh. He had echoed the words she had used when he offered to help her from the water, and had created a pact between them that kept her foolish escapade a secret.
‘Why do you say that?’ Byron asked suspiciously, but Nettie was saved from answering by Maurice, who came hurrying across the hall followed by the maid.
‘Good God!
What happened? Who did this to you, son?’
‘I got in the way of someone out hunting rabbits, Pa,’ Rufus said wearily. ‘It’s nothing, really. Just a few pellets in my arm. It could have been worse.’
‘I’ll sack whoever did this. I didn’t give anyone permission to hunt on my land.’ Maurice beckoned to the maid. ‘Don’t stand there gawping like a goldfish. Send one of the grooms for the doctor. Tell the old quack it’s urgent.’ He shooed the young girl away. ‘Go on, hurry, girl.’
She ran, her small feet pitter-pattering on the marble-tiled floor.
Maurice turned to Byron. ‘You, whatever your name is, you look like a strong fellow. Help me to get my boy upstairs.’ He shot a glance in Nettie’s direction. ‘The drawing room is across the hall. Go and break the news to Mrs Norwood, but don’t alarm her. Your pa is with her, so he’ll be a calming influence.’
Nettie entered the drawing room and was suddenly conscious of her dishevelled appearance. Her father stood up, staring at her open-mouthed, and Jane Norwood peered at her through a lorgnette.
‘What’s this?’ Jane demanded angrily. ‘You can’t barge into my parlour without a by-your-leave, and just look at you, girl. You look as if you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.’
A bubble of near hysteria rose in Nettie’s throat. ‘I – I’m sorry, Mrs Norwood, but I have some bad news.’
‘What?’ Jane’s pale blue eyes bulged from their sockets and she leaped to her feet. ‘Has something happened to my boy?’
‘It was an accident, ma’am,’ Nettie said gently. ‘Someone was out shooting rabbits and—’
Jane threw up her hands and fell back into Robert’s arms. He staggered beneath her weight and guided her back to her seat. ‘Calm yourself, Mrs Norwood. Let Nettie speak.’
‘It’s not serious,’ Nettie said, making an effort to sound calm. ‘The doctor has been sent for.’
Jane fanned herself with her hand. ‘Oh, my poor boy. I must go to him.’
‘Your husband is with him.’ Nettie looked to her father for help. ‘It’s his left arm that’s injured. It could have been much worse.’