Fenella J. Miller Read online

  * * * *

  Eliza decided Edmund should ride to Colchester with her summons, believing her brother would be better occupied doing this than kicking his heels around the house imagining the worst. Her mother and grandmother had accepted the partially true explanation of Edmund’s unexpected return with remarkable equanimity.

  * * * *

  ‘A young man must sew his wild oats before he settles down, my dear, it is better he does so now, before he has the responsibility of the estate to worry about.’

  Eliza had somehow summoned up a smile to answer. ‘You’re right of course, Mama, and it will be lovely having him with us until he has come about.’

  They were sowing barley in the top field today and she had promised to oversee the job herself. Her man-of-business was busy interviewing new tenants for Cuckoo Farm and was unable to attend to the matter himself. Eliza dressed as she always did when working in fields - a pair of specially made britches, thick cotton shirt and her brother’s old top boots. She always wore a coat of her father’s to complete her outfit.

  Pulling out a cap from an inside pocket she had stuffed it in the last time she’d worn these clothes, she put it on her head. Although it was now the third week of April, and the trees in many places were in full leaf, there was still a wintry nip to the air first thing in the morning. She rummaged around in her closet until she found a warm muffler and tied it in a loose knot around her neck.

  Jane appeared with her charge beside her as she was about to leave. Sarah laughed when she saw what Eliza was wearing.

  ‘You look like a scarecrow, Liza. Can I come with you? If you’re going to chase the birds away from the fields I should love to help.’

  Eliza felt a moment’s doubt. Had she allowed her eccentric dress to go too far? Hastily she returned to her bedchamber to check in one of the pier gilt mirrors that stood either side of mantelshelf. She had to admit she didn’t look like the daughter of a gentleman, in fact she didn’t look like the daughter of anyone. Dressed as she was she could be mistaken not for a scarecrow, but certainly for a farm worker, or possibly the farmer himself. She viewed herself from every side to make sure that none of her abundant curves were obvious beneath her disguise.

  She might look like a young man dressed as she was, but at least no one could say she was showing any part of her anatomy in an immodest way. The top boots covered her from ankle to knee, the britches were not tight and her father’s frockcoat fell loosely to her knees. The voluminous waistcoat buttoned across her ample bosom leaving nothing to suggest she was anything other than she wished to appear.

  ‘I’m sorry, Sarah darling, you must stay behind today. It’s far too cold to be out. I thought you were going to help Cook make Edmund a welcome home cake?’

  Sarah, easily distracted, nodded vigorously. ‘I am, I am. And Jane and I are going to bake buns as well, aren’t we, Jane?’

  Jane smiled. ‘Indeed we are, Miss Sarah, and Mrs Turner is waiting for us in the kitchen this very minute.’

  * * * *

  Eliza was riding her father’s old hunter whilst her own mare was in foal. Sampson, a sixteen-hand chestnut gelding, well past his prime, but would still be considered too much of a handful for most women. Riding astride, as she always did, he was well within her capabilities.

  She decided to take the longer route, through the park and across the woods, as it was some time since Sampson had been given the opportunity to stretch his legs and take a few jumps in his stride. She needed the extra time to think about what she was going to do to save her family from ruin. Edmund, as usual, had handed over the responsibility to her and seemed to believe that all would be well.

  Lost in thought, Eliza let Sampson choose the path; the way was well known to both of them and included no surprises. She ducked her head automatically as they cantered through the trees and tightened her grip and leant forward when he took a hedge or ditch.

  It was unfortunate that Lord Wydale and Mr Reed had decided to walk around the boundaries of the Grove House estate that morning. When the huge chestnut landed in front of them, spraying them both with mud and water from the previous night’s rain, a roar of rage jerked Eliza violently back to the present.

  Expertly she reined back several safe yards away from the two gentlemen she had just smothered in dirt. The language from the shorter, and more elegant gentleman, made her ears burn. She realized her disguise had remained unpenetrated.

  ‘You clodhopping imbecile. You have ruined my jacket with your stupidity.’ The man shouted, his dark eyes blazing with rage. The extremely tall man, was scraping the mud from his cheeks, his fine leather gloves being spoilt in the process. She could see his eyes were unamused, and for some reason decided that despite his silence, this man was a more formidable opponent.

  Considering it wiser to keep her distance, she attempted to apologize in a suitably countrified manner. ‘I begs your pardons, me lords, but this ‘ere’s private land, and I wasn’t expecting no-one to be strolling along this path. Was you lost, sirs?’ Fortunately Eliza’s natural voice was deep and she knew it would not give her away.

  The dark man almost growled his reply. ‘I am Lord Wydale, and this is soon to be my land. It is you that are trespassing, not us.’’

  For a moment Eliza was paralyzed by fear. How could this man be here already? Had he not promised Edmund to give them three months grace? The land was not his, not until the deeds were handed over to him. Until then it belonged to Edmund. She was glad now

  that she had covered both these gentlemen in dirt. It was no more than they deserved.

  Drawing herself up too her full height, she stared down at the two men in disdain.

  ‘This land belongs to the Fox family and ‘as done for ‘undreds of years. I’ll not stop ‘ere to listen to your nonsense. You ‘ave no right to be ‘ere and I suggests you bugger orf right now. You might be fancy gentlemen from London, but down ‘ere that makes no never mind. It’s what you does not who you are what counts.’

  Satisfied she’d put them both firmly in their place she clicked to Sampson who was already pawing the ground, eager to continue. Eliza deliberately spun his hindquarters towards the intruders. She dug in her heels hard so that her mount sprang straight into a gallop spraying the men for a second time. The sound of one man’s curses followed her and her peal of laughter must have added to his fury. It would take more than a few swear words to intimidate a Fox!

  Chapter Five

  Business completed in Home fields, Eliza took the less frequented route home, just in case Lord Wydale, and Mr Reed, were still wandering around inspecting what they thought would be his property; but not as long as she had a breath in her body to prevent it.

  Lord Wydale was exactly the sort of man who would leave his tenants in poverty whilst living in luxury elsewhere. She would not let this happen here; if there wasn’t enough money to pay off the debt, then she would have to think of something else. One thing was certain, his lordship would never get his greedy aristocratic hands on her beloved home.

  * * * *

  She dressed with more attention to her appearance that night. It was possible that they might have unwanted visitors and she wished to look her best. However cold it might be she had decided to wear a new dinner gown, a deep buttercup-yellow silk with a low décolletage and elbow-length sleeves. The high waist emphasized her curves and the lighter shade of the gold sarcenet over-skirt shimmered, reflecting the light from the oil lamps around her bedchamber.

  ‘Will I do, Jane? I wish to look my best tonight, in honour of my brother’s visit.’

  Jane nodded vigorously. ‘You do, miss. I don’t know why you put yourself down so much; you don’t have golden curls like Mr Edmund or Miss Sarah, but you have your father’s cornflower blue eyes.’ The girl grinned. ‘And no one could mistake you for a man in that gown, that’s for sure.’

  Eliza laughed at the oblique reference to the large amount of creamy bosom that was on show tonight. ‘I think I shall wear the t
opaz necklace and ear-bobs that Papa brought from India. Do you know if they’re upstairs?’

  ‘They’re in the closet, with your other precious items, miss. I’ll fetch them right away.’

  When the necklace was settled around her throat she felt less naked; she was not used to seeing so much skin; she had abandoned jewellery at same time she had cut off her long hair. Satisfied she looked as good as she was able, she turned to go downstairs.

  Eliza was at the last stair when she heard a carriage drawing up outside. Surely not? Everyone knew that one did not arrive unannounced at dinnertime, whatever the circumstances. Not waiting to see who might descend from the carriage she ran the last few yards to the drawing-room. Three expectant female faces turned to greet her. She glanced across at Edmund, standing by the fireplace, rigid with embarrassment.

  Her mother came across and clasped her hands. ‘I am so glad you’ve chosen tonight to dress so well, my love. We have guests for dinner. Edmund met two friends of his from London, they are putting up at the Sun, and he has invited them to dine with us. It’s so long since we entertained that I’m quite beside myself with excitement.’

  Eliza noticed everyone was decked out in their best. Denver had obviously arrived in her absence for Edmund was in full evening rig and looked every inch a country gentleman, albeit a pale and worried one. Her mother was resplendent in burgundy velvet, a magnificent turban on her head and matching egret feathers dancing and blowing whenever she moved her head. Even her grandmother had made an effort to impress. She had on a strange moss green velvet ensemble, with an equally hideous turban.

  ‘Eliza, look at this dress Mama has given me? I feel like a princess and she has put up my hair as well, doesn’t it make me look grown up?’ Sarah twirled around, delighted with her new finery.

  Eliza felt sick with dread. Indeed her lovely young sister did look grown up, she looked so beautiful in a simple pink and white striped muslin evening dress, with dainty cuffed sleeves and a modest neckline, it made her heart ache.

  She looked as any 17-year-old young woman should look. With her golden ringlets arranged on either side of her face and her pale blue eyes sparkling with excitement, Eliza knew that a gentleman might find her irresistible.

  ‘Yes, you look lovely, darling, but remember if you are to dine with us tonight, you must not speak unless addressed. You must nod and say "yes please and no thank you, and how kind" but nothing else. Do you understand?’

  Sarah nodded making her curls fly. ‘I promise, I promise. I shall not be naughty tonight. If I’m good, can I dress up like this and come down to meet guests another time?’ Leaving her mother and grandmother to discuss the matter with her sister, she indicated to Edmund they should move apart and stand, in the deep curve of the bay window, to have a private conversation.

  ‘Edmund, what were you thinking of? Have you run mad? Why have you invited those men here?’

  Edmund seemed to be having difficulty in answering, he ran his finger round his stock as if it had grown too tight. ‘I was returning from Colchester having delivered the not to the lawyers and met them on their way back from a walk. One of our men covered them with mud and they were baying for his blood. When Wydale saw me he turned his anger in my direction. If it hadn’t been for Mr Reed’s intervention, that man would have reneged on his agreement and demanded that we leave the place at once.’

  ‘But don’t you see, Edmund, they will reveal everything. Can you imagine the distress knowing what you have done will cause our mother and grandmother?’

  ‘Mr Reed gave me his word of honour that they would behave as no more than friends of mine from London.’

  They heard the bell that hung outside the front door ring and Mrs Green welcoming the two gentlemen in. It was too late for further conversation. It did not occur to Eliza that she was at any risk of being exposed as the country bumpkin who had ruined the gentlemen’s stroll about the countryside.

  She went to stand by Sarah, just in case her sister did something that might reveal her lack of intelligence and cause embarrassment. She was overly protective, but she knew that no one would treat Sarah with disrespect if she had anything to do with it.

  She heard booted feet in the hall outside and Mrs Green opened the double doors. ‘Lord Wydale, and Mr Reed, madam.’

  Eliza and Sarah curtsied politely, Mrs Dean remained seated and merely nodded, but Mrs Fox moved forward to greet the unwanted guests.

  ‘Welcome, my lord, sir, to Grove House. It is so long since we’ve seen anyone from

  London and I am eager to catch up on any news.’

  Eliza kept her head lowered, not wishing to make eye contact with either men, in case her animosity was not sufficiently well hidden. She heard Edmund move at last to greet his so-called friends.

  ‘Lord Wydale, allow me to present you to my mother, Mrs Fox.’ There was the sound of bowing and curtseying, but Eliza remained where she was.

  ‘This is my grandmother, Mrs Dean.’

  She risked a glance, eager to see how her eccentric relative would react. She was not disappointed.

  ‘Well, you’re not what I expected, sirs, I can tell you that much. I had no idea my grandson was mixing with such a top lofty group of gentlemen in Town’ The old lady raised her lorgnette and stared beadily at both men. ‘I would say that both of you are a good ten years his senior. What, may I ask, have you in common?’

  Eliza almost choked in an effort to hold back her amusement. She saw twin flags of colour appear on Lord Wydale’s cheeks and his nostrils flared; she knew it was going to be a disaster. To her astonishment Mr Reed, placed a light hand on his friend’s arm before moving forward and bowing deeply.

  ‘Mrs Dean, you have seen through us in an instant. Mr Fox, is but a casual acquaintance, as you have guessed. We frequent the same clubs, that is all. However, when your grandson saw us walking through your pretty town, he greeted us and, as any gentleman in his situation would do, invited us to join him for dinner. ‘

  Eliza released her breath, impressed with the way the extremely tall man had averted an embarrassing contretemps; she waited to see what her grandmother’s answer would me.

  ‘Ah! That explains it, anyone would have done the same as you say. But that don’t explain why you two Corinthians are in Dedham in the first place.’

  ‘Madam, we are here to meet with Mr Constable, if we can find him. I wish to commission some landscapes of my home. I believe that he is often seen hereabouts.’

  Mrs Fox decided her mother had had more than enough attention from the two gentlemen. ‘I am acquainted with Mr Constable, sir, and should be delighted to introduce you if he is staying in the vicinity at the moment. However, I don’t believe he visits with his parents as often as he used to. He is more likely to be staying at Wivenhoe House, with General Rebow, who is a patron of his.’

  ‘General Rebow, you say? He is my godfather; it’s my intention to call on him whilst in Essex. Thank you, madam, your information has been most valuable.’

  Eliza waited for Edmund to say something else, to introduce her and Sarah to the visitors, but for some reason he refrained. She guessed it was to protect Sarah from inquisitive eyes, but it seemed almost to be a deliberate insult and she saw the taller man’s shock at this omission. There was no reaction to the slight from Lord Wydale. Mr Reed’s expression hardened.

  Unsure what to do to resolve the situation, she did nothing. She would no doubt steal a moment to explain why her brother had not introduced them and when he understood how things were with Sarah, perhaps he would not view her brother with such dislike. It was vital that Edmund retained Mr Reed’s support, for without his intervention they would already be facing eviction.

  Eliza heard the connecting doors to the dining room swing open and Ann, one of the parlour maids, curtsied prettily. ‘Dinner is served, my lord, ladies and gentlemen. Would you would care to step this way?’

  Edmund took his mother’s arm, as he always did when he was home; Sarah and Eliza mov
ed across to help their grandmother from her seat. This left the two visitors to walk in side by side.

  Eliza glanced round the room in surprise. When had her mother found the time to organize all this polishing and to produce the best china and crystal? Beeswax candles stood in regimental rows down the centre of the long table casting a golden glow over the rosewood surface.

  Ann was joined by the other parlour maid, Rose, and together they seated Lord Wydale on the left of Edmund’s chair and Mr Reed on his right, then her mother was sat centrally, opposite her grandmother. Sarah and she sat at the far end of the table.

  Relieved that she was not obliged to make small talk with either of the men and Sarah was protected from them also, she waited silently for the maids, watched over by Mrs Green, to serve the first course.

  Cook had excelled herself and produced an impressive array of dishes. Leek and ham soup was followed by salmon baked in pastry; there was chicken, cabbage and spinach cake, and also Cook’s famous port wine sauce to go with a potato pudding. These dishes were handed round, not placed centrally, which made for a more relaxed atmosphere. It also gave everyone a chance to select what they liked and not be left with whatever happened to be placed near them. The second course was turkey with crayfish, braised beef steaks, raised game pie, syllabub and a magnificent raspberry cake.

  By the time they had all eaten their full, and in the gentleman’s case drank several bottles of claret, the feeling around the table was convivial and even Eliza began to forget the true purpose of their guests appearance in Dedham.

  Sarah had been overwhelmed by the occasion and did not have to be reminded to remain quiet. When Mrs Fox rose gracefully to lead the ladies from the dining-room, leaving the gentleman to their port, Eliza began to believe the evening would pass without disaster.