Brothers at Arms (50 page)

Michael Gransden stood by the office door, looking aghast.

“What do you mean? I am not staying in any stable block, nor is James,” he said, intent on gathering support around him.

Joshua gathered up the reins in his left hand and repeated, “If you care to follow me.”

James clambered into his gig and the Gransden valet and groom did the same, which left Michael to follow. Not willingly, or with good grace, but he did.

On reaching the stables, Joshua dismounted and waited for the others to arrive. James followed close behind, but Michael made a great pretence of stopping to look at the Hall as he drove past, then the end of the lake to point out the icehouse, as if there was all the time in the world.

“I’ll find one of the stable lads to attend your horses and gig,” Joshua told James. “They’ll help to move your baggage as well.”

“I didn’t know what to expect,” the other boy said. “This seemed the best way to travel from home.”

“It’s all right,” said Joshua. “You’ll soon learn. We all do.”

When Michael finally arrived in front of the stables, Ben Waters was in the process of carrying James’s box to the door.

“Where shall I put this, Joshua?”

“Leave it in the sitting room while they choose their rooms.”

“What is this place?” Michael demanded to know.

Joshua took a deep breath and spoke slowly. “It is where we, the students at Holkham, live and sleep. If you follow me, I will show you. Best be quick, or James will have choice of the two rooms.”

He wondered what Michael would say when it came to the work.

“This is not what I expected.” Michael grumbled his way up the staircase. “Are you quite sure this is right? I thought I would be staying in the Hall.”

“There is no mistake,” said Joshua. “We all sleep here, and the washing facilities are in this room.” He opened a door.

“Where am I going to accommodate my groom and valet? They must have somewhere to sleep,” Michael said, looking at Joshua with suspicion. “What do you do about servants?”

Controlling the urge to laugh, Joshua said, “I have no need of assistance. I’m here to work.”

It was not a good start. Joshua might say he didn’t need help, but he hadn’t mastered the way of keeping his boots and leather breeches clean, whereas Michael’s clothes were immaculate.

Confronted with something beyond his comprehension, Michael ignored him, and Joshua realised he was relegated to the level of the lower orders, particularly as he was on first name terms with the grooms.

In the event, the servants found somewhere to sleep, but after a few days, the two grooms took the spare gigs home, and Kegworth, the valet, remained.

Two weeks in a row, Joshua came into his room to find it unusually clean and tidy. Instead of finding his crumpled clothes draped over a chair back, his neatly sponged and pressed jackets hung with his clean breeches in the wall cupboard. Everything smelled fresh and it was obvious that a practised hand had polished his boots.

He said nothing to Michael, but guessed Kegworth was responsible for the improvement in his appearance. He bided his time until he could speak with the man alone. They met as Joshua climbed the staircase to the upper level, but before he could utter a word, the valet sought to justify his actions.

“I know what you’re going to say, sir, and I beg your pardon for entering your room without permission. I had no right to do that, but with time on my hands, I thought to make myself useful.”

“Thank you, Kegworth; I am obliged to you for your assistance.” Joshua took a coin from his pocket.

“No, sir,” said the valet. “There’s no need for that. Mr Michael said as how it’s all right for me to help the other young gentleman, so I’d be grateful if you would allow me to assist you.”

“It looks as if you have remedied the deficiencies already. My leathers and boots haven’t looked so clean since I arrived.”

The valet had also aired the contents of the clothes chest his father brought from Linmore in July.

“Well, I noticed you didn’t have a manservant, and I can see your notion of work is different to the other young gentlemen. From what I hear, you seem to mix with the workers.”

Joshua drew himself up. “What of it?” It was not for a servant to question his actions.

“No offence intended, sir. What I meant to say was that I reckon Mr Michael’s reason for coming to Holkham wasn’t the same as for you.”

“We are all here to learn, Kegworth,” Joshua said in a quiet voice.

“Exactly, sir, but some folks know how to do and others don’t. I’m only saying what Lady Gransden said before we came here, and she’s real quality, like you.”

Joshua wondered what Kegworth thought he was. Michael Gransden obviously viewed him as the poor relation of the group, but servants always knew what was going on, and Weston’s label in his coat told its own story.

Michael and James were soon firm friends, and they travelled to church by gig around the road, leaving Joshua to ride his horse across the park. This continued for several weeks, but when they attended the group meeting at the end of the first month, Michael broached a subject Joshua had wondered about but never asked.

“Why is the church so far from the village, sir?” Michael always took the lead to ask questions, and James was content to let him be the mouthpiece. “It seems a dashed silly place to put it when the village is a mile away.”

Mr Blakeney was ready to enlighten them.

“The original village was moved to its present location when Mr Coke’s ancestor, the Earl of Leicester, extended the lake.”

Joshua had heard of landowners moving villages in parts of Shropshire, but his Norbery ancestors did the opposite. They extended the drive from the village and built the new Linmore Hall on the far side of the fishponds.

Several times in the succeeding weeks, James expressed quiet anxieties aside, and Joshua assured him that he had felt the same a few short months before. Michael did not admit to anything.

He did not want them to compound his errors, so he stressed the need to listen to what Mr Blakeney said. He emphasised the significance of the picture hanging on the wall behind the agent’s desk, but Michael did not conform to rules, and in his company, James inevitably followed suit.

With so many places out of bounds, Joshua was relieved to know that at weekends, Michael and James preferred to drive their gig through the surrounding villages, dazzling the locals with their magnificent attire, and taking the tugging of forelocks by estate workers as due deference, whereas Joshua, riding alongside, soberly dressed in his black coat, recognised amusement. People knew there was no harm in them. They were young men, away from home for the first time, revelling in the attention they drew. It made him feel old, in experience, by comparison.

When he was going to work, a uniform, dark brown coat, tan waistcoat and fawn breeches with top boots suited Joshua well; but being a student who asked the how and why of everything, he had quickly acquired practical over-clothes for each placement.

While Michael and James delighted in their inclusion to a shooting party, Joshua occupied himself on another part of the estate – from choice. No one seeing him there would recognise the tall figure in a smock, leather waistcoat and sturdy boots as anything other than a woodsman.

When he returned to the stables, few traces of his activities remained, except dried mud on his boots and breeches. In the intervening hours, he revelled in the physical work
,
clearing undergrowth from established woodland, pruning hazel coppices, and splitting wood for wattle fencing.

It was part of woodland management. A process in which thousands of trees started life in the walled garden every year, and thousands more saplings from other years were transplanted. He was fascinated to learn that the holm oak originated in Italy, the acorns of which were found in the packing cases of statues brought back by the first Earl of Leicester, from his Grand Tour.

Joshua could not stand by and watch. He tried his hand at all kinds of work. His curiosity even led him to learn about pleaching hedges in the enclosures, which strengthened the base for better growth.

Every day, he set out, determined to learn new skills, and returned to the stables feeling weary but satisfied. It was backbreaking work for someone unaccustomed to such things, but he never complained, for it gave him a better understanding of the countryside.

He liked the honesty of the estate labourers. They might laugh when he did things wrong, but it was without malice and they showed him how to do it right. Then they shared their food with him. Bread and cheese tasted better in a forest, especially with a mug of local cider for which he had acquired a taste.

Some evenings, he felt almost too tired to ride back across the park. At such times, he thought he never wanted to see another acorn or horse chestnut. The next day, he gathered a dozen of each kind to take home to Linmore. If they grew well, he would have his own special piece of Holkham to remember.

That was what it was all about, but it separated Joshua from the other students. He forgot about everything but the job in hand, until he returned to the stables and found the other lads waiting for him.

“Why are you late?” said James. “We thought you must have had an accident.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at the state of your clothes.”

Joshua realised what they meant, but he was not going to apologise for doing his work. “I’ve been planting saplings,” he said, “hundreds of them.”

The ensuing silence filled the room.

“Don’t wait for me,” he said, stripping off his jacket. “I need to wash and change.”

They took him at his word and disappeared down the stairs. Kegworth appeared immediately, asking, “Did you want some hot water, Mr Norbery?”

“How much is there?” Joshua asked.

“The cauldron over at the forge is full,” the valet said. “There’s plenty for you to take a dip in the grooms’ tin tub.”

Joshua grimaced as he stretched. “Make sure I don’t fall asleep.”

“Don’t worry, sir. You have plenty of time. Mr Michael never hurries anywhere.”

By the time Joshua reached the dining room by the servants’ hall; the other students were heading back to the stables. He found them later playing cards in the sitting room. They glanced up from their game, but neither said a word.

It did not matter. Joshua was tired, but still had things to do. He pulled up a wooden chair to the table and prepared to record the daily events in his workbook. He propped his chin in his hand and closed his eyes.

The light was dim when he awoke. Michael and James had exchanged their card playing for a tankard of ale, and Kegworth was setting the table to rights. It was eleven o’clock and all Joshua had written were three words on the page of his diary.

“Did you want me to get you a drink, sir?” Kegworth asked.

“No, thank you,” he said, stifling a yawn. “It’s time I was in bed.”

This became the nightly pattern of behaviour. Joshua knew he should make an effort to talk, but he missed the easy camaraderie with Harry and Jack. With them, even silence could be companionable. He did not expect friendship, only a degree of civility. James was usually polite, but when Michael spoke, his manner was invariably condescending.

“I don’t suppose you’ve done any travelling, Norbery? Unless it was to Wales, or wherever this border is that you live near. I mean, it’s not likely your parents would think it necessary.”

Joshua clenched his teeth, determined not to lose his temper.

“Actually, I did the Grand Tour a couple of years ago,” he said, with cutting civility. “Have you travelled anywhere?”

Michael’s face was a picture of envy. “Well, no,” he said. “My parents don’t seem to understand it is essential, and they won’t see reason. The trouble is my mother is concerned about my safety. I am the only son and heir to the estate.”

Joshua suddenly understood their problem. They wanted to appear grown up, whereas at their age, he was already travelling.

“Your parents are right,” he said. “With the war on, Europe is not a safe place to be. Hardly anyone goes there nowadays.”

“Will you tell us about your travels?” There was no hint of condescension in Michael’s tone now.

That night, they sat until the lights were burning low while Joshua told them about the sea journey to Naples, and their close encounter with the French Naval brigantine. When they wished they had been there, he told them about the storms in the Bay of Biscay, and anxious times on the becalmed ship within sight of the Barbary Coast.

On the subject of travel, they thought he was the fount of all knowledge, and hastened to seek answers to questions they could not ask anyone else.

“Are Italian women as easy as they are reputed to be?” Michael waited eagerly for his reply.

“Easy… um…well…” Joshua tried to think of a comment he could make without committing himself.

Luckily, James had a question to ask. “Is it true they are available in Naples for a few shillings a day?”

Joshua could answer that without fear of telling a lie.

“I’m not the man to ask about such things,” he said, with a rueful grin. “I never spent a farthing acquiring a woman abroad.”

He did not elaborate further, knowing they would not believe money played little part when the women involved knew as much about the art of seduction as men – and more than he did at the time.

Seeing their disappointed looks, he digressed to a topic guaranteed to impress Michael – the process of inserting influential names in the conversation.

“We spent a lot of time with the British Ambassador’s family in Athens, and met Admiral Nelson and his officers, when we were in Rome. They came to one of the Embassy functions.”

“I must tell my mother of this,” Michael said, his attention caught. “I am sure she and my sisters will want to meet you.”

Joshua had no wish to meet them. Women invariably caused trouble.

“What about volcanoes?” said James. “Did any erupt while you were there?”

“No, Vesuvius was dormant,” he said, “but we climbed to the top of the caldera. Then we visited Pompeii and Herculaneum.”