A Country Marriage (55 page)

‘Well the bruising’s certainly come out this morning, same as your ma said it would. His ribs are a terrible sight, all blue an’ purple an’ black. An’ course he’s still in pain, pain so bad he can scarce move for it.’

‘So he’s not gone to work then?’

‘He couldn’t,’ she answered, refastening the hatch of the hen house. ‘He wanted to though. He even tried to get out of bed. But no, in the end he sent Robert up to the bailey with some story about falling out of the hayloft. Yesterday he asked Will to go for him but Will refused; said he’d have no part in it but young Robert even offered the bailey his own labour in George’s place; real good of him. Don’t know what Pa Strong knew of it, mind.’

‘What did the bailey say?’

‘Robert said he just thanked him and said that if George was back at work tomorrow, then no more would be said of it.’

‘So most likely he didn’t believe the story about the hayloft, then?’

Standing up and looking straight at him, she shrugged.

‘George thinks not.’

‘An’ will he be able to
go
back to work tomorrow?’

‘By rights, no, he’s far from ready but seems he’ll have to, otherwise he’ll lose his job.’

‘Lord.’

‘Aye, ʼtis a worry, all right.’

‘Anything you need?’ he asked, picking up her bowl from the grass and handing it to her.

‘No but thank you all the same. Robert fetched me some bits from the farm earlier.’

‘Good. Well I’d best not stay any longer then,’ he said, glancing up towards the lane.

‘No, best not.’

*

It was later the same morning when Mary was sitting at the table, picking over fallen apples that Isaac Sharpe came thudding down the bank, ducked swiftly through the door and stood breathlessly asking for George. And now, barely a full minute after his urgent appearance, here she was, running full pelt down the hill with the cold air stabbing through her clothes, wishing that her husband had seen fit to tell her more, rather than just sending her off in a panic to the farm. Clearly, whatever Isaac Sharpe had just rushed in to tell him was serious – she could tell that much from the way he had shouted down to her – but as to why he was sending her for
Francis
, she had no idea. When she had called back to ask him, he had simply shouted at her not to waste time and to run. In those few seconds, it had crossed her mind that someone had seen her and Francis together but as she had run up the bank to the lane, she felt certain that if that were so, then his first thought would have been to confront her and demand an explanation, not send her off in search of her alleged lover. And for certain, he wouldn’t have allowed her out of his sight. But please let her be right on that score, she willed, gulping for breath as the track to the farmhouse came into sight.

‘Francis!’ she hissed, arriving moments later at the gate to the yard and seeing him working alone at the manure heap. ‘Quick!’

She watched him turn towards her and saw how, at the sight of her frantic beckoning, he let the shovel clang onto the cobbles as he ran across to where she was hovering.

‘What is it?’ he asked, checking back across the yard and hastily withdrawing his hands from reaching for hers.

Grasping his sleeve, she pulled him out into the lane.

‘’Tis George—’

‘What, is he worse or summat?’

‘No. No,’ she puffed, bending double with her hand to her side. ‘He sent me… to get you.’

‘
Why
?’ he asked, stooping to look at her face.

‘Don’t know. Isaac Sharpe came down—’

‘Isaac?’

Trying to stand more upright, she tried to push aside a tangle of tumbling hair.

‘Running… he came running. Asked for George. I pointed and he rushed up the ladder. Then he came back down and George… George yelled for me to come an’ get you. He said to say nothing to anyone an’ speak only to you… an’ to bring you back with me—’

‘
Why
?’

Red faced from running, she shook her head, still gasping for breath.

‘He told me to make haste… said it was desperate urgent.’

‘Is it about
us
, do you think?’ he ventured, looking quickly about again.

She shook her head.

‘No. But whatever it is, it’s proper unsettled him. So
please
, just come.’

*

‘I don’t understand, George. This doesn’t make any
sense
. Tell it to me again.’

The sight of George, lying propped up on their bed talking to Francis, couldn’t have made Mary more uncomfortable.

‘Look, you must have heard about Saturday and how things got out of hand; most of the county seems to know.’

‘I’ve heard bits and pieces, aye,’ she watched Francis agreeing.

‘Well amid all the confusion, it seems Chamberlin and his cronies grabbed a couple of the men who were at the front of the mob, in the thick of the exchanges. Most likely they took them to the lock-up and called for the special constables. No one knows for certain what happened but this morning, more constables, from Winchester, not local ones mind, have been going about the parishes with lists of people to arrest.’

‘Have they been
here
then, the constables?’

‘Not yet.’

‘But somehow my name’s on their list?’

‘According to Isaac, yours and Ezra’s, aye.’

‘But no one else from Verneybrook?’

‘Not so far as I was told.’

‘And did Isaac see the list for hisself?’

‘No. Someone in the know rode out from Wembridge at first light to tell the Sharpes, and Isaac’s first thought was to warn you. But not wanting to risk causing a stir at the farm, he came to me instead.’

‘But I wasn’t
there
, in Marcombe, I mean.’

‘I know you weren’t.’

‘So how can my name be on some list?’

‘I ain’t the least notion. ’Tis clearly a mistake.’

‘So what does he do now?’ Mary asked, more concerned with allaying her fears about what might happen next than with how matters had reached this point to start with.

‘Well, my first thought is that you should go from here and hide yourself,’ she saw George direct his answer to Francis.

‘
Hide
? But he hasn’t
done
anything,’ she shrieked.

‘Mary,’ George said calmly. ‘You’re not helping matters. Go downstairs.’

‘But she makes a fair point, George; I
haven’t
done anything, so why would I hide?’

With a long groan of pain that twisted his face, George tried to lever himself more upright and quickly she reached to move the bolster.

‘Look, with summat like this, the first thing the gentry want is the ringleaders caught. They think it’ll weaken the resolve of the rest of us to see our so-called leaders in gaol. So they go about the countryside asking questions of everyone they come across. And faced with reason to fear for their safety, there’s a good number of people who’ll say anything. So all I can think, Francis, is that for some reason, accidental or otherwise, some such person told either Chamberlin or the constables that you were there. More than that, I can’t speculate but you know as well as I do the power of the constables an’ the guards, so the minute they set eyes on you, they won’t stop to ask questions nor listen to your protestations of innocence; they’ll throw you in the Bridewell. And
then
all it comes down to is whether you fancy your word against someone like Chamberlin or that steward of his, Paine.’ Listening to George’s words, Mary fought to control the trembling of her hands. This couldn’t be happening; it just couldn’t. ‘And it grieves me to say this but even though I know you weren’t there, I don’t hold out much for your chances.’

Seeing how Francis shook his head, she began to realise the frightening hopelessness of the situation.

‘But couldn’t
you
speak for him, George?’ she pleaded. ‘Surely with someone to vouch for his story—’

‘Look at me, Mary. Just stop for a moment and look at me, will you? I got the lashes of a horsewhip across my neck and ribs smashed so badly that I can scarce stand. Even a halfwit could see that I was there myself, so what weight would
my
word carry, eh? None. None at all. An’ worse still, they’d probably slap
me
in chains as well.’

She let out a long, tremulous sigh and sinking onto the edge of the mattress, stared down at the floor, as before her eyes, the regimented rows of floorboards took on a blurred arrangement as haphazard as any of the swirling knots dotted across their surface.

‘All right but if not you, then someone else. Your pa. Surely a landowner and farmer like him could speak for his character and someone would listen?’

‘Mary, you know Pa’s view on all this. He may agree with the
idea
of fairness for labourers but he don’t approve of our methods. You’ve seen yourself how many times we’ve crossed on the matter, so not only could I not
ask
him, even for Francis here but in any event, Pa couldn’t vouch for where Francis was on Saturday because he doesn’t know.’

‘So what do we do, then?’ she asked, close to tears now and glancing at Francis.

‘I stand by my suggestion of leaving Verneybrook and hiding out.’

‘I can’t very well just
leave
,’ she heard Francis interject. ‘That alone makes me look guilty.’

‘Believe me, I wish I could think of summat else, summat less drastic but if it was me, I wouldn’t wait around here for someone to let your whereabouts be known. And to be blunt for a moment, if they can’t find you, they can’t arrest you,’ George told him, shifting his position to try to get comfortable again.

‘So how long would he have to go for?’ she asked, although even while she was asking the question, she was sure she wouldn’t want to hear the answer.

‘I don’t think we can tell that right now. I fancy it depends on how long it takes for the constables to round up enough men to bring before the assizes and satisfy their sense of justice. But in all truth, I can’t imagine that being this side of Lent.’

‘
Lent
?’ she responded in unison with Francis.

Then this was worse than she had feared: far worse.

‘Can’t see it being any sooner.’

She looked across to Francis to see that his face was blanched of all colour.

‘You think it’d be the assizes, then, not a justice?’ he was asking.

‘You mind that unrest at Micklehampton a year back? Well, that was tried at Winchester Assizes. And some of those found guilty were transported to Van Diemen’s Land.’

‘Then you’re right, I don’t fancy my chances much, not much at all,’ Francis agreed and sank onto the edge of the bed in Mary’s place. ‘Lord, no.’

‘Now you see why I suggest hiding and waiting it out.’

‘Aye.’

‘Can you think of anywhere you can go?’

What? How on earth was this all happening so quickly? She shot a look at her husband; his urgency seemed indecent but to her disbelief, Francis seemed equally rashly settled on the idea.

‘There
is
someways that comes to mind.’

‘Well, that’s summat at least, although I’d keep good an’ quiet about where it is.’

‘I could say I’ve had the chance of better work there. It wouldn’t be far from the truth; there’s a standing offer at… this place.’

‘Aye, seems a good, plain story to stick with and I’ll vouch for you hereabouts. What about money? Do you need money?’

She looked from George to Francis and back, unable to believe the speed at which Francis seemed to be slipping from her life.

‘No. Much obliged for the thought, though.’

‘Well, if at some point when all this has died down you decide to return, there’ll always be work at Summerleas for you. I’ll see to it.’

‘Well, that’s much appreciated, too.’

In utter disbelief, she stood, rooted to the floor, watching as, wincing with the effort, her husband reached to shake the hand that Francis was proffering.

‘I just wish there was summat more I could do. The whole thing makes me sick to my stomach. Sick.’

‘It ain’t your doing, George. I’m just grateful to be forewarned.’

‘Aye.’

‘I’ll see you out, then,’ she said, her voice barely making a sound and her heart pounding so rapidly that she had difficulty finding the rungs of the ladder with her feet.

Following her down, Francis motioned his head towards the front door and she crept across to stand beside him.

‘Make an excuse to get out later, just afore dusk if you can,’ he whispered and with a glance back towards the ladder, touched her fingers. ‘I’ll wait down in the meadow. Come. Whatever else you do, come.’ She nodded frantically. ‘And don’t go saying anything daft.’