Brothers at Arms (58 page)

He hesitated just through the door, and a servant came forward to enquire his purpose. “I’m looking for Mr Norbery of Linmore,” he said.

The name was repeated to Mr Coke, sitting at the head of the table. He looked up and nodded. “Come in, Joshua, and join us,” he said, indicating to the servant that a space be found at the table.

“Thank you, sir, but I have taken breakfast,” he said, “I’d be obliged if I could speak with my father.”

Tom Norbery left the table to greet him, but there were too many eyes on them for more than a firm handshake, and a hasty greeting.

“I’ll wait for you in the anteroom, sir.” Joshua said, struggling to suppress a surge of emotion that the sight of his father brought to the surface. He concentrated instead on the need to warn of the impending meeting with Sir John Gransden, in case the gentleman mentioned the fracas with Charlie Cobarne in Kings Lynn. That would spoil everything.

He left the room and stood, affecting to study a marble statue in an alcove, and wishing that he had taken more time to eat his breakfast instead of gulping it down. Now he felt it sitting in his belly like a weight, reminding him of what must be said.

A few minutes later, he heard the sound of a door opening, and realised that Tom Norbery was watching him. Before he could speak he found himself engulfed in a hug, reminiscent of the ones he received as a child. It was all too brief before he was released, and they both sniffed, his father similarly reaching for a handkerchief and giving his nose a determined blow.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, sir,” Joshua said, rushing to explain. “I was concerned last night in case… there was a reason for the delay.”

“It was the sheer volume of coaches on the road,” said his father, “many of which were coming to Holkham.”

“Did you travel all the way from London yesterday?” It was over a hundred miles.

“Yes, I came on the Mailcoach to Cambridge and hired a vehicle from there. Daniel Salter is bringing the Linmore coach in easy stages and will be here for the return journey.” Tom Norbery frowned as he stood back to survey his son. “You look anxious. What else is bothering you?”

“Oh, nothing untoward,” Joshua said, striving for a casual tone. “I must warn you that Sir John Gransden is awaiting an introduction. His son, Michael, is a fellow student. They invited me to stay with the family in Kings Lynn at Eastertime.”

He led the way outside to the courtyard where the estate office was situated.

“Yes, Mr Coke mentioned me that my presence was in great demand,” his father said in a dry tone. “A persistent young man by all accounts.”

“Extremely,” said Joshua, wishing that he could find a quiet place to tell his father about the meeting with Charlie Cobarne. Although Lady Gransden had dealt firmly with the incident, he couldn’t be sure that Sir John would not blurt it out for all to hear.

Before he could say more, Michael Gransden’s petulant voice interrupted. “Ah, there you are, Norbery, hiding as usual.”

“Hell and the devil confound it.” Joshua almost said the words aloud. And then, resigned to the inevitable, he turned to face the newcomers.

“Well met, Michael,” he said in an even tone and continued with a slight bow, “Good morning, Sir John, I trust that you had a good journey from Lynn.” When that had been established, he said, “Permit me to introduce you to my father.”

Joshua knew that as long as one mouthed the right platitudes, society was satisfied. He mentally compared the two men as they exchanged greetings. Much as he expected, the baronet was all bluff affability when his father said, “I must thank you for your hospitality to my son, Sir John.”

Then he held his breath and waited for the inevitable response.

“Think nothing of it, Norbery. The ladies were delighted to have him visit. They had a splendid time, apart from a minor contretemps at the local assembly. Not his fault, of course, more a case of young army officer celebrating some family event too liberally. One doesn’t expect a gentleman to cause embarrassment in public, particularly in the presence of ladies; but the army seems to allow anyone to take a commission these days.” He beamed at Joshua and said aside, “My lady wife sent you this missive with her compliments, young man.” He extracted a folded sheet of paper from his pocket.

“Contretemps…with the army?” said his father, frowning at Joshua.

“Please give my thanks to Lady Gransden,” Joshua said, feigning deafness. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him as he broke the seal and perused the contents, and could almost hear Lady Gransden’s imperious voice speaking the words.
Mr Norbery, you will be pleased to know that the unfortunate episode was satisfactorily resolved
.
Colonel Eccleshall discovered the culprits and delivered a sharp scold about their social responsibilities to the regiment, before they were dispatched forthwith to the Low Countries for active service. I have no further knowledge of their fate.

Joshua carefully refolded the letter and placed it in his pocket. So Charlie Cobarne was in the Netherlands. He took cold comfort from the thought, knowing that active service meant going into a battle in which Charlie might have fallen. And yet, he sensed that his old adversary was still alive, waiting to be faced on another occasion.

With difficulty, he forced a smile and repeated his thanks. “I am indebted to Lady Gransden for the information, sir.”

All the time he could feel his father’s gaze on him but nothing was said until the Gransdens’ had moved away. “Would you care to enlighten me about the event, Joshua?”

He took a deep breath. “I saw Charlie Cobarne in Kings Lynn. I heard him say that he was celebrating his sister’s safe delivery from childbirth.”

“From your expression, I deduce that he did not keep his distance.”

“No,” said Joshua, unable to spare his father the pain that the knowledge would bring. “He took a savage delight in denouncing me as his sister’s assailant and denigrating Linmore.”

Tom Norbery frowned. “Did many people hear him say this?”

“There were a few newcomers signing the admission book in the assembly rooms vestibule, but Lady Gransden’s entrance stopped the gossip, and the soldiers disappeared before their commanding officer entered the building. Colonel Eccleshall is married to Lady Gransden’s sister. You may read her letter if you wish,” he said, rummaging in his pocket.

Tom Norbery glanced at the paper. “This explains why Charlie was sent post-haste to Europe,” he said, “and the reason his sister asked me to stand proxy as godfather for the child in his absence.”

“Is she married?” Joshua said, reluctantly bringing Sophie to mind.

“Yes, to an older man in business,” Tom Norbery said, and promptly changed the subject. “You’ll be pleased to know that Ed Salter has made a good recovery.”

That will keep her in order
, Joshua thought sourly. Aloud he said, “I’d like to have Ed as my personal groom.”

His father nodded. “That’s an excellent idea. I think he is well suited to the post.”

Joshua felt a huge wave of relief sweep over him, knowing that his father was aware of the truth. No doubt Aunt Winifred was instrumental in finding Sophie Cobarne a husband. It tied up some of the loose ends, but gave him no satisfaction, for he sensed that much was left unsaid.

There was, however, little time for further discussion on the subject.

For the next three days, Joshua threw himself into his work at the sheep-shearings. Talking, listening to visitors’ queries and making other folk welcome. Having escaped from Michael Gransden, he met up with James Inglethorpe, whose father, a retired army colonel, was as dissimilar to Sir John Gransden as anyone could be. He came straight to the point.

“Mr Coke told me that you have acted as my son’s mentor, Mr Joshua. I am obliged to you for not leading him astray, as can happen when young men are away from home for the first time.”

Joshua smiled, and caught James’s eye. “I did what I could to help him settle into the work, sir.”

“He speaks well of you, young man; more so than the other frippery character.”

Joshua acknowledged the compliment and moved on with his father, intending to make his way around the estate workers to whom he wished to say farewell.

On the second day, he renewed his acquaintance with Jack Syderstone and Harry Bircham, the young men who helped him to settle on his arrival at Holkham.

“Have you seen any ghostly apparitions recently?” Harry asked in a teasing tone aside, while their respective fathers were deep in conversation on agricultural matters.

“No, only that one occasion,” Joshua said, with a rueful smile, “I never could find that particular tavern again.” The excuse rolled off his tongue, but it was easier to imply that he’d tried and failed, than explain the reason why he hadn’t ventured off the beaten track. Drinking alone made him maudlin, and to take Michael Gransden would have been more penance than pleasure.

“And have you…?” he said.

The anxious glance, which Harry cast in his father’s direction, warned Joshua that wenching was not a good topic of conversation at the present time. Jack, standing beside them, lowered an eyelid and grinned. Joshua nodded his understanding and they parted company with a cheery wave.

On the final evening, he sat with his fellow students and heard Mr Coke describe them as fine young men and commend their unstinting dedication to their work.

“Tom Norbery’s son, especially, has surpassed our expectations, and set the standard for future students. I have no doubt that, whatever Joshua does in the future, he will give of his best. Moreover, I hope he will come back to Holkham in future years to tell us what use he has made of his apprenticeship.”

Joshua could have wept, seeing the look of pride on his father’s face, and for knowing he had redeemed himself in Mr Coke’s good opinion.

Then, in front of the assembled guests, Mr Coke said, “I thought it would be appropriate, considering we have given prizes for excellence in farming and stockbreeding, for an award to be given to Joshua Norbery, who will be leaving us tomorrow. I am sure you will all join me in wishing him luck for the future.”

To the sound of applause, Mr Blakeney beckoned Joshua to go forward to receive a gift from Mr Coke. It was a brass capstan clock with barometer, and a framed copy of the set of rules from the agent’s office, written in meticulously neat copperplate writing, dedicated to the memory of Mr Coke’s late wife, Jane.

“I think Joshua deserves this, because he has learned the value of these better than anyone,” Mr Coke said with a smile.

Indeed, he had.

Morning came all too quickly, and there were still three things to do before Joshua was ready to leave. He went to see Kegworth first, to express his thanks, and bestow a generous remuneration for the many services the Gransden valet rendered him.

As they talked, the man said, “I don’t reckon Mr Michael will keep me on as a valet once he’s finished here, sir.”

“Why not?” said Joshua. “You do the job well. I’ve been more than pleased with the work you did for me.”

“Ah, yes, sir, but you’re a different person to Mr Gransden. It’s not just the cut of the clothes that makes a gentleman – it’s in the blood, like a thoroughbred.”

Joshua could scarcely poach a servant from the Gransden household, but he could show appreciation in a practical sense, so he gave written directions to contact him at Linmore Hall. “If ever you need a testimonial for another job, you can apply to me.”

“Thank you, sir. I might just do that. My grandmother had some relations in Salop, so it could be that I’ll visit your county.”

Then he found Ben Waters, the young groom who made him welcome at the outset, but before he could open his purse, the groom said, “There’s no need for that, Joshua; your father’s seen to everything. He’s a real gent like Mr Coke.”

“Then please accept my thanks,” he said, offering his hand, “for I am truly grateful for your support.”

After that there was only one thing left to do. The recollection led his feet to the laundry in the hope of seeing the laundress, Mary-Anne. He could not leave without knowing what happened to Tess. Irrespective of whether the child belonged to her late husband, as Mr Coke averred, he wanted to know.

When Joshua entered the laundry building, various members of staff looked up from their work to wish him well. As he thanked the women for their good wishes, a voice chirped up from the back of the group. He recognised the girl who had scolded him about the dirty washing.

“Ooh… Look at him in his fine clothes,” she said, nudging her friend. “If I’d known he were a gentleman when he came here with that dirty owd smock-frock, I’d have taken his clothes home to wash, special like. Nice young man like that.”

“Never mind about the work clothes, Gertie,” another woman said with a chuckle, “I’d have taken him home with me, for there’s nobody like him within miles of here, saving Mr Coke.”

The other women joined in the laughter. Joshua flushed, as he recalled how the girl’s action affected his response to other things.

“That’ll do, girls,” a gentle voice interceded. “Go back to your work. You’re embarrassing Mr Norbery.”

When Mary-Anne spoke, the other workers cheerfully returned to their work areas. She moved forward to Joshua’s side.

“I’m sorry about that, sir,” she said. “They don’t mean any harm. I think it was intended as a compliment.”

In that moment, Mary-Anne’s likeness to her sister was particularly marked, the sand-brown hair, hazel eyes, and quiet acceptance of life.

Joshua waited until the other women moved away, before he said, “Mary-Anne, may I speak with you, in private.”

She made no demur, and they went outside the building, to a grassy area where washing lines of bedlinen dried in the breeze.

He stood for a moment, pondering how best to phrase the question to which he wanted an answer. In the end, the words just tumbled out.

“Has your sister delivered her baby?”

She looked surprised, and pleased. “It’s kind of you to ask, sir. Tess had a fine little boy, about a couple of months ago.”