06.The Penniless Peer (The Eternal Collection) (2 page)

“I could not help it, Periquine ! I could not really!” she explained. “I heard you coming and there was nothing I could do but hide myself. I knew Hetty would not be pleased to see me.”

“Why ever not?” Lord Corbury enquired.

“Hetty does not much like other women,” Fenella replied, “especially when she has a romantic assignation with a handsome Beau!”

She looked at Lord Corbury as she spoke, noting the intricate folds of his white cravat, his exquisitely cut coat, and tight yellow pantaloons.

“You do look smart, Periquine ! I thought you were irresistible in your uniform, but now you are a perfect Adonis.”

“I wish to God I were back in the Army,” Lord Corbury snapped. “At least I had something else to occupy my mind besides lack of money.”

“I was afraid you would be upset when you learnt what was happening on the estate,” Fenella said sympathetically.

She perched herself as she spoke on the arm of a sofa.

“Why did not somebody tell me?” Lord Corbury enquired.

“I did think of writing to you,” Fenella replied, “but what good would it have done? You were in France, and even if you had received my letter, which I doubted, there was little that could be altered until you returned.”

“And what do you imagine I can do now?” Lord Corbury asked aggressively. “Swayer came to see me in London the day before yesterday and informed me that I could not let the farms unless they are first repaired, and that I could not repair them because I had no money! How could things have got into such a state?”

“Your father was very ill before he died,” Fenella said quietly, “and things just went from bad to worse. MacDonald gave up his farm, and Grimble refused to continue unless the barns were repaired, and naturally no-one would rent them as they are now.”

She paused and added almost reluctantly,

“The other farms have been without tenants for nearly three years.”

“I asked Swayer why he did not write to me,” Lord Corbury said, “and he said it was not his business.”

“I suppose that Johnson, your father’s agent, should have done so,” Fenella said. “But he was always a surly and difficult man, and he was so incensed when he received no salary for six months that he just packed up and went. He did not even say goodbye.”

“Empty farms! No rents coming in and the house collapsing over my head!” Lord Corbury exclaimed. “I have seen the holes in the roof, I have seen how many ceilings there are down.”

“The ceiling in the Picture Gallery is the only one that really matters,” Fenella said.

“Picture Gallery!” Lord Corbury scoffed. “Why should that matter? There are no pictures there. They have all gone years ago.”

“They had to sell the last Van Dyke so that your father could have a few luxuries in the six months before he died,” Fenella said. “I believe they obtained quite a reasonable price for it, but there was already so much owing, so many debts unpaid, so many wages overdue, I am afraid there will be nothing left.”

“There is nothing left.”

“Oh Periquine, I am so sorry! I have been so looking forward to your coming home. I have thought about it and longed to see you, and now everything is spoilt.”

“You can hardly expect me to be jubilant,” Lord Corbury said sourly.

“No, of course not,” Fenella agreed. “And you also want to — marry — Hetty?”

It was a question spoken in a soft nervous voice.

“Of course I want to marry her!” Lord Corbury replied. “She is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen! And she loves me, Fenella. I know she loves me. We could run away together if it were not for that pompous and snobbish old father of hers.”

“Sir Virgil is very proud of his daughter,” Fenella said as if she were finding an excuse for him.

“I should be proud of her too, if she were my wife,” Lord Corbury said. “What the hell am I to do, Fenella?”

He walked back to the window as he spoke, and Fenella watching him realised it was just like old times.

There were six years between them in age, and yet, because they were second cousins and lived within half a mile of each other, they had always spent much time together, first as children, then when Periquine came home from school in the holidays and found that in the near vicinity there were few companions of his own age.

He had treated Fenella as if she were a small boy, compelling her to do his bidding, fag for him, run after him, fetch and carry, and because there was no-one else to be his confidante.

Now without really thinking about it they were back on the old easy terms they had always known.

“How much money have you got, Periquine?” Fenella asked.

“None, absolutely none!” he declared. “After I had seen Swayer, I gave up the rooms I had taken in Dover Street, sacked my valet, sold all my horses except the two I have driven down here today and paid up the greater part of my debts.”

He paused a moment. Then he said, almost speaking to himself,

 “I curse myself for being such a fool as to give that ‘bit of muslin’ two gowns she fancied only two weeks ago. But how could I know that things were so desperate?”

“You still have the Priory,” Fenella said hesitantly.

“Yes, I still have the Priory,” Lord Corbury answered. “But I could not sell it even if I wished to because it is entailed to my son. The son I am not likely ever to be able to afford!”

“At least it is a roof over your head.”

“And I should be grateful for that,” Lord Corbury agreed ironically. “I also have a thousand unproductive acres of land which I cannot afford to farm myself and certainly am unlikely to find tenants who will do it for me. Do you realise, Fenella, that since the war all over the country farmers are going bankrupt?”

“I do realise it,” Fenella answered, “and I think it is disgraceful! While we were at war with the French we all needed food and were grateful if the farmers could feed the country. Yet now in 1817 only two years after Waterloo, the same men who were cheered and acclaimed cannot even raise a loan to carry them over the harvest.”

“They say the country banks are going broke one after another,” Lord Corbury said, “so you can hardly expect them to grant loans which are never likely to be repaid.”

Fenella sighed.

“What are you going to do?”

“That is what I am asking you,” he answered.

“I was hoping that when you came home you would be able to help people on your estate. But it does not now appear you will be able to do so.”

“What people?” Lord Corbury asked without much interest in his voice.

“Well, the most important is Mrs. Buckle,” Fenella answered. “After all, Periquine, she is your responsibility. She has been at the Priory for nearly fifty years. She first came when she was twelve as a scullery-maid to your grandfather.”

“What is the matter with her?” Lord Corbury asked. “I saw her when I arrived and she seems all right to me.”

“She is all right in her health,” Fenella answered. “It is Simon, her son. You know how she dotes on him.”

“I understood he came through the war without a scratch.”

“He did and he married a girl from the next village last year. As he wanted to earn a living, he borrowed twenty pounds so that he could buy a horse and cart and set up as the local carrier. The old man who used to be the carrier died two years ago.

“Well, what is wrong with that?” Lord Corbury enquired.

“There is nothing wrong with it except that he went to Isaac Goldstein, who is one of your new tenants. He has rented the Old Mill House.”

“The Old Mill,” Lord Corbury said wrinkling his forehead. “I thought that was too dilapidated for anyone to take.”

“He pays only a very small rent for it,” Fenella said, “and he is the horridest man you can possibly imagine. I would never have let him put a foot on the estate, if it had been anything to do with me. But Johnson let him the house because, I imagine, he was desperate for tenants. Periquine, he is a Usurer!”

“Here in Little Coombe!” Lord Corbury exclaimed. “Good heavens, what do we want a Usurer for?”

“We do not,” Fenella answered, “except for someone like Simon. Mr. Goldstein goes regularly to Brighton and all the towns nearby, and I understand he has a thriving business. But he is crooked, really crooked, and that is what is so wrong.”

Lord Corbury moved a little way from the window obviously interested in what she was saying.

“What do you mean he is crooked?”

“Well Simon borrowed twenty pounds from him a year ago,” Fenella answered, “and Mr. Goldstein says he now owes him a hundred, and it goes up every month.”

She made a gesture with her hands.

“How can Simon possibly pay him back £100? And you do see that however hard he works he gets deeper and deeper into debt.”

“It is their usual method of extortion,” Lord Corbury exclaimed, “I may be a fool in many ways, Fenella, but I have never been so cork-brained as to get into the clutches of Usurers. I have seen only too often what they have done to my brother-officers. One chap actually committed suicide because they squeezed him dry and went on threatening until he just could not pay any more.”

Fenella clasped her hands together,

“I knew you would understand, Periquine,” she said, “and that is why I hoped you would do something when you came home.”

“What can I do?” Lord Corbury asked. “I certainly cannot give Simon £100!”

“It is worse than that, it is not only Simon,” Fenella said.

“Who else is involved?” Lord Corbury enquired.

“Well, you remember Mrs. Jarvis who kept the ‘Green Man’?”

“I remember Jarvis well,” Lord Corbury replied.

“He died about five years ago, but Mrs. Jarvis carried on by herself. She had Joe, her son, to help her until he went to the war. But she managed after he left and she saved every penny she made for him, so that when he came home he could take his father’s place.”

“What happened?” Lord Corbury asked.

“Mrs. Jarvis fell ill in the winter before last. It was very cold, and I think she economised on coal so as to save more money. Anyway she got pneumonia, and when she was dying Isaac Goldstein came to see her.”

“Why should he do that?” Lord Corbury asked.

“It appeared he was married to her sister, and whether she sent for him or whether he just chanced to drop in I do not know. Anyway she gave him her money in safe keeping for Joe when he came back from the war. She also asked him to look after the Inn or, if it had to be sold, to keep the purchase money for Joe too.”

“Go on,” Lord Corbury said.

“Mrs. Jarvis died and when Joe came back and was told what his mother had arranged, Isaac Goldstein said that his mother had left him nothing.”

“It is impossible!” Lord Corbury exclaimed. “How could he get away with it?”

“Apparently he just said to Joe, ‘You prove that she gave me any money or that she wished you to have the proceeds of the sale of the “Green Man’.”

“He had sold it then.”

“Yes he sold it a week after Mrs. Jarvis died, and according to local gossip he sold it well. But of course no-one knows for certain. It was quite a flourishing little Inn in its way, and there was also the money she had saved. Joe reckons it must have been over a thousand pounds in all and he has not had a penny.”

“This is the most disgraceful thing I have ever heard!” Lord Corbury exclaimed, “I would like to tell this man Goldstein what I think of him.”

“A lot of people have tried to do that,” Fenella said, “but it does not do any good. He does not care, he is rich and he is a miser. I have seen him...”

She stopped suddenly and her face lit up.

 “Listen! Periquine ! I have an idea!”

“What is it?” he asked.

“I have thought of how you can get back the money for Simon Buckle, for Joe Jarvis, and perhaps make some for yourself.”

“What are you talking about?” Lord Corbury enquired.

Fenella rose from the sofa to stand with her hands clasped together, her green eyes staring across the room as if she was concentrating fiercely.

“I know where Isaac Goldstein hides his money,” she said. “I have seen him come back from his trips to the coast and take bags and bags from his cart, carry them into the house and hide them under the floor-boards.”

“How on earth have you seen that?” Lord Corbury enquired.

Fenella drew a deep breath.

“I have told you he is a horrible man. Well, he has two very fierce dogs who guard his house when he is away, to protect his money of course. But, Periquine, he does not feed them properly. I suppose he thinks it keeps them savage if they are hungry. He gives them little enough when he is there, but when he is away they often go for three or four days without food and sometimes even water.”

“The dirty swine! But what can you do about it?” Lord Corbury said.

“I feed them,” Fenella answered.

“You feed them !” he repeated incredulously.

“I started by throwing them food over the fence,” Fenella explained. “So now when they see me they wag their tails and I can do anything I like with them. Of course Isaac Goldstein does not know this.”

“But you are quite certain they would not hurt you?” Lord Corbury asked.

“I really believe now they would protect me against anyone else,” Fenella smiled. “But do you not see, Periquine, it makes it so easy! We will take Goldstein’s ill-gotten money, give Jarvis and Simon what they are owed and perhaps there will be enough over for you to do at least a few repairs to the farms.”

“Are you suggesting I should steal?” Lord Corbury asked in a voice of thunder.

“I am suggesting that you should take from the rich and give to the poor,” Fenella retorted.

“I have never heard such a ridiculous idea in the whole of my life!” Lord Corbury exclaimed. “You do not suppose I would stoop to being a thief, do you?”

“Well, if you will not do so, Simon will remain in the clutches of this monster,” Fenella said, “and Joe Jarvis is in such depths of despair that he just drinks away every penny he earns while he ruminates over the manner that he has been treated.”

“I should have thought he could do something better than that,” Lord Corbury remarked.

“What can he do?” Fenella enquired. “There was no witness present in the room when Mrs. Jarvis handed over the money, only we all know in the village how hard she worked, and how she saved every penny for her Joe. We also know that she certainly would not have wanted her brother-in-law, whom she hardly knew, to sell ‘The Green Man’ and put the money in his pocket.”