Haggard (25 page)

‘I
have sent her away.'

'A sudden decision.'

'One to which I have been inclining for some time.' 'But a decision,' Alison Brand said. 'I am not a man to change my mind, Alison.' 'You've children,' she pointed out.

'My children. I'll not let them go. But you'll have children, Alison. I promise you that.' 'Not to inherit.'

There'll be enough to go round.' As her father had said, she had an old head on those beautiful shoulders, he thought. But did it matter? She was the woman he wanted, as much for her old and steady head as for her body and her lips,
‘I
had supposed you wanted to,' he said.

'We must talk with Papa.'

'But you.' He knelt before her, held her hands again, brought them to his lips. 'Will you not say yes to me
‘
now?'

She smiled. 'After we have spoken with Papa,' she said.

'Haggard.' Brand squeezed his hands. But his eyes would not meet Haggard's gaze, kept dropping away. 'Alison will have told you?'

'Oh, aye. Splendid news. What I've always hoped for.' Then I suggest you look the part.'

'You'll take a glass of port?' Brand pulled the bell. 'I've sent the girls out for the morning. Best, eh?'

'Of course,' Haggard agreed, and sat down, stretching his legs in front of him.
‘I’ll
confess I am in no practice at playing the suitor.'

'So I have gathered.'

'But you've no objections?'

‘
To you? Man, I'd choose no other. Ah, Partridge.' The port was poured, the decanter left between the two men. 'First things first, though. I'm a straight up man, Haggard. You'll have noticed that.'

‘I
ndeed I have,' Haggard said, somewhat drily.

‘I
f you'd not come to me, I'd have come to you.'

'About Alison?'

'Eh? God no. About you. You'd no trouble at Derleth?' 'None I couldn't handle.'

There's good news. The case has set London by its ears.' Haggard grinned at him, and drank some port. 'And I am the most unpopular man in the kingdom.'

Brand leaned forward, his face serious. 'True.' 'So you'd not see me as a son-in-law.'

‘I
said, first things first. With a big programme in view, Billy Pitt doesn't want distractions.'

Haggard's turn to frown,
‘I
'm not sure I understand you.'

'It's politics, you understand. I doubt you have such things in Barbados.'

'We have some.'

'Not like here. Tis the ladies, you know. Every one dabbling away, influencing their husbands. To say a man is a Tory is not to say he'll always support us. No, no. There's a deal of feeling that runs through this community, which will find expression.'

Haggard poured some more port. 'Brand, you are babbling. Come to the point.'

The point. Yes. Well, Billy feels, we all feel, that perhaps it would be best were you to absent yourself from Parliament for a while.' 'Eh?'

Brand produced a brightly coloured kerchief, wiped his forehead. 'Well, you see, Haggard, parliamentary procedure being what it is, the next time you appear in the House, in the immediate future that is, some damned Whig is going to put down a question about slavery, and slave owners being permitted to sit in the house . . . they're very devils. Next thing you'll be impeached, like that poor devil Hastings.'

'I have done nothing for which I can be impeached,' Haggard said. 'I have broken no laws. Nor can I be impeached, while I am a Member.'

‘
True. True. But Billy feels there could be some terrible time wasting, and maybe some to be too closely identified with the Party.'

Haggard got up. 'No one mentioned this before? You were happy to have me. You knew I was a slave owner.'

'Don't go getting the wrong idea. I've nothing against a slave owner. None of us have. But we assumed you'd win your case. As you should have done. But there it is. Tis public opinion we have to consider. England is ruled by public opinion. Important.'

'So I'm to be ostracised, because a madman like Granville Sharp has stolen one of my people.'

‘
Too strong,' Brand protested. 'Too strong. You wish to be a Tory, Haggard. The party comes before anything else. Before country.'

That's a damned unpatriotic thing to say,' Haggard said.

'Well, not before
country,''
Brand said. 'If it came to that. But before anything else. And it's only for six months, Haggard. Billy is sure on that. It won't affect your seat. It's past Easter already. Soon Parliament will be rising for the summer. When they resume, in November, why, no one will even remember the name of James Middlesex. London is like that.'

Haggard finished his port, poured himself a fresh glass. 'And what of Alison?'

'My dear fellow, I am overjoyed. And it will work out rather well. You will have the time to prepare for the wedding.' He leaned forward, slapped Haggard on the knee. Tell your lawyer to prepare a settlement, and we'll consider it done.'

Perhaps, Haggard thought, if I offered sufficient money to Wilberforce, I'd even be allowed to take my seat in Parliament.

They sat around the table. At Brand's request Haggard had brought with him both Roeham the attorney and Cummings; they were on either side of him. Colonel Brand sat opposite, Alison on his right, his own attorney, by name of Wooding, on his left. It was more like a business conference than a wedding proposal. But then, it had always been a business proposal. Haggard realised. Why else should a girl like Alison wish to marry a man more than twice her age? But at the end of it all, she would belong to him. All of her.

She wore a highnecked pink gown, and this morning her hair was up as well, and concealed beneath a mob cap. Her face and neck were exposed, and utterly magnificent. There were pink spots in her cheeks, but he suspected these had been assisted by-rouge, as they neither deepened nor faded. He had no idea what might lie under the gown, save for the shadowy limbs he had seen beneath her nightdress. But he did not doubt for an instant. She would be his, at the end of it.

'Colonel Brand will settle upon his daughter an income of six hundred pounds a year,' Wooding said. 'It is a small sum, but the colonel is not a wealthy man. He hopes Mr. Haggard will understand this, and not permit Miss Brand to find herself in an embarrassing position.'

'Mr. Haggard has been entirely generous,' Roeham said in turn, consulting h
is own paper, 'and means to settl
e upon Mrs. Haggard an income of one thousand pounds a month for the rest of her life.'

'One thousand pounds,' Brand said. 'Bless my soul. There is generosity, Haggard. I thank you, man. I thank you.'

Haggard looked at Alison, who for a moment returned his gaze. Her lips parted in what might have been mistaken for a smile.

'And the issue of the marriage?' Wooding inquired.

'Ah . . .' Roeham continued to study his paper. 'Shall be recognised as heirs to the estate of Mr. Haggard in the event of the death of the existing heir, Mr. Roger Haggard, and in any event, from the age of eighteen onwards, shall be in receipt of an income of not less than two hundred pounds a month each.'

'Generous,' Colonel Brand said. 'Oh, generous. Well, my sweet girl, are you content?'

Now Alison did smile. 'I have always been content with Mr. Haggard's proposals, Papa,' she murmured.

‘
Then shall we sign?'

The papers were exchanged, and Haggard appended his signature. Like buying a horse or a house, he thought. But what an animal.

‘
There we are, gentlemen.' Brand pushed back his chair and stood up. 'Now I suggest we all adjourn to the withdrawing room, and enjoy a glass of wine. Tis a cause for celebration,' he added, perhaps as an afterthought.

'We will join you in a moment,' Haggard said. 'But first I would like a few minutes alone with my fiancee.'

Alison's mouth opened in surprise, and she glanced at her father.

'Well, of course, that is entirely correct,' Brand said. 'Only a few minutes, now, Haggard, eh? A few minutes.'

They bustled from the room, and the door was closed. Alison remained seated at the table.

'Are you happy?' Haggard asked.

‘I
am overwhelmed, Mr. Haggard. As Papa has said, you have been far too generous.'

Haggard got up, walked round the table, stood behind her, inhaled her perfume. 'Would you have refused me, had I been mean?'

'John Haggard is not a mean man,' she said. 'Or I would never have been his friend.'

Haggard rested his hands on her shoulders. For how long had he wanted to do that. 'Now you are to be his wife.'

Her head tilted backwards, so that she could look up at him. 'I desire only your love, Mr. Haggard. As I shall give you mine.'

He lowered his head, checked when he was an inch away from her. But she did not move. Relief spread outwards from his heart and his belly. He dropped his lips on to hers. They were closed, and he stroked them with his tongue. For just a moment they parted, and he was able to touch hers. Her hands came up, and closed on his arms, squeezing, then she released him, and her mouth was gone.

She stood up, and the pink spots in her cheeks had at last grown,
‘I
am happy, Mr. Haggard,' she said. 'Very happy.'

Then you will call me John.'

'John,' she said, and held out her hand. 'Shall we join Papa?'

'But where is she
now?'
Roger insisted. 'Please, Father.'

Haggard sighed. How big he was for sixteen years of age; why, they were roughly the same height. 'I do not know where she is now, boy. You understand the situation between us?'

Roger nodded. 'Emma explained it to me herself. But she said she loved you. And she said you loved her.'

'Well, of course we loved each other. Then. But love sometimes grows cold. And we were not married. So when she wished to leave me, I had no means of keeping her here.'

'But
why?’
Roger asked. 'Why should she wish to leave you? Where could she possibly go that was better than here?'

Two terms at Eton had filled out his mind as well as his body. Made him into a true Haggard, Haggard suspected. He would have to be carefully handled.

He leaned back in his chair, gazed out of the opened window at the brilliant sunlight streaming into the study. This was more like it. He could at last understand why England was occasionally described as the most beautiful country in the world. But June was only thirty days long. Would July be as kind?

Still, there was no better month for Alison to see Derleth for the first time.

'You do understand,' he said, 'that Emma was not your mother.'

'Of course I do, Father. But she was my friend. And now . . . I don't understand why you wish to marry again.'

'Aye, well, you will when you are a few years older,' Haggard said. 'I will explain it to you, then. Now come along. Miss Brand will be here in a little while. We must go out to meet her.'

He was determined that Alison, on her first visit to Derleth, should not be disappointed. Everything that had gone wrong with his own arrival had been corrected, so far as he was able. Now he mounted his favourite mare, and saw that the children were also suitably horsed. He led them through the street, MacGuinness bringing up the rear, inspected the bunting hung from the houses, at his direction and paid for with his money, made sure that the Reverend Porlock—Litteridge's replacement—had the church looking sufficiently welcoming.

He drew rein at the inn. 'Is all ready, Mr. Hatchard?'

The publican was on the doorstep, in his best suit. 'Aye, Mr. Haggard,' he said. 'All is ready. I'm just giving them a drink, to cure the heat, like.'

Haggard nodded, and rode on. He wondered what they really thought of him. They had had no reason to love the black people, and they had heartily disliked Emma. Even those who had opposed him in the slavery issue had been whipped into it by Parson Litteridge. Since that troublemaker's departure he had been greeted mostly by smiles, even if he often caught them whispering surreptitiously behind their hands. But they could whisper what they liked. He was Haggard. He had established that fact as firmly here as he ever had in Barbados. No doubt they were each relieved that the girl he had picked out of the mine had been Mary Prince, rather than one of their own. But they'd not criticise. Not even Henry Prince did anything more than touch his hat
; he had too great a liking for
golden guineas.

And no doubt that went for the country as a whole. Six months, Pitt had said. Well, the waiting would be over in November, and in September he would be married. It would be time to turn his back on discord and quarrelling, and begin a new life with his new wife. With the most beautiful girl in the land.

And there she was. The carriage was in sight, rumbling up the London turnpike, and turning to the left to take the road into Derleth. Haggard stood in his stirrups and waved his hat, and handkerchiefs fluttered from the windows of the berlin.

'Wave,' he commanded the children. 'Wave, damn you.'

They obediently waved their own hats, and the carriage scraped to a halt. Inside were both Alison and Emily, and their maids. Alison leaned out of the opened window, and gave him her hand. He leaned from the saddle to kiss it and squeeze it. 'Welcome to Derleth,' he said. 'Oh, welcome to Derleth.'

'I feel as if I am coming home,' she said. 'And are these the children?'

'Roger, my eldest son,' Haggard said.

Roger raised his hat.

'Give me your hand, Roger,' Alison said.

'And this is my daughter, Alice.'

Alice, a perfect replica of Emma, even at ten years old, gave a nervous bob to her head.

'I am pleased to meet you, child,' Alison said, but this time she did not shake hands. 'And that will be Charles. He sits a horse well.'

'Haggards,' Haggard said. 'Ride on,' he told the driver.

The whip cracked, and the berlin raced down the hill, followed by its cavalcade. 'She's lovely,' Alice cried. 'Don't you think she's lovely, Roger?'

Roger did not reply.

'I don't think she's as lovely as Mama,' Charlie said, and bit his lip as Haggard turned his head.

'Hush,' Alice said. 'You'll annoy Papa.'

They were entering the village, and the men were streaming out of the pub to cheer and clap as the carriage rumbled by. Everyone had a foaming tankard in his hand; Hatchard had done his work well.

'Hooray for Mistress Brand,' someone shouted.

'Hooray for Mr. Haggard,' shouted another.

Hats were thrown in the air, beer was spilled, and the whole mass moved along beside the carriage, shouting and cheering.

They love you at first sight,' Haggard said.

Alison merely smiled. But it was a more contented smile than he had ever seen before.

They left the village behind and approached the manor. Beyond, the new house was taking shape, the tower built and dominating the countryside, the adjoining building a gaunt skeleton of wooden uprights only slowly being covered with planking. But already it was making the old hall resemble a barn.

'Your future home,' Haggard said, and dismounted to open the door for her.

Alison Brand stepped down, inspected the lined up grooms and footmen, Pretty the butler, restored to his old position, the housemaids and parlourmaids, marshalled by Mistress Wring, Peter's mother, who had come to the Hall as housekeeper. The girls kept their eyes dutifully lowered, Mary Prince included, Haggard was pleased to note.

Alison swept by them and into the doorway, Emily and Haggard at her heels. In the doorway she stopped, and turned. 'I like Derleth,' she said. 'I like you all.' She smiled at Haggard. 'I will be happy here.'

'I can see it's going to be magnificent,' Alison said. They had dismounted, the better to inspect the works, stood together at the foot of the tower, which rose forty feet above their heads. 'Can we get up there?'

'Can we?' Haggard looked over his shoulder. Nash had remained a discreet distance away.

'Only by ladder at the moment, I'm afraid, Mr. Haggard.'

'I have never climbed a ladder. Could we, Mr. Haggard?'

'Of course.' He led her inside the shell of the main building; at the far end the inner wall of the tower was open as if breached. On this, the ground floor, they looked at what would be cellars. A ladder led up to the extended drawing room on the first floor.

'It looks awfully steep,' Emily complained.

'Well, then,' Haggard said. 'You stay down here with Roger.

Alison and I will make the climb.' It was quite impossible to get rid of the girl. Or come to think of it, of his son.

Alison already had her foot on the bottom rung. 'You'll stay close behind me,' she said.

Haggard stepped on to the ladder; her skirt brushed his face. He inhaled her perfume, watched her neatly laced boots emerging and disappearing again as she climbed. Her riding habit was in midnight blue, with a matching tricome. As ever, she looked good enough to eat. Certainly to rape. But what a strange thought about his future wife. He had only to be patient.

She paused for breath, half way up, and to look down at the people beneath her.

'Be careful,' Emily called.

Alison laughed, and climbed again, scrambled off the ladder and on to the floor, waited for Haggard to join her. 'It's going to be magnificent,' she said.

There's another,' he pointed out. 'Leading to the bedchamber.'

She glanced at him, crossed the floor, and started climbing again. Now they were out of sight of the people below. Up they went, and through the opening on to the upper floor. Here the room was almost complete, although the windows needed to be glazed. Alison stood at the nearest, looked out at the rolling countryside, the trees clustering over the slopes of the hills; the window looked away from the village. 'What an absolu
tely splendid view,' she said, ‘I
feel like a Norman chatelaine, waiting for the onslaught of the Saxons.'

'A good time to be alive,' Haggard said at her shoulder.

'Do you think so? I am happier now.'

He put his arms round her waist, brought her back against him. 'Do you know this is the first time we have been alone since our betrothal?'

'Well . . . you are such a passionate man, dear Mr. Haggard.' Her hands were on his arms, seeking to free them. Gently he spread his hands, allowed the fingers to wander upwards, over the hardness of her corset and just to touch the underside of her breasts. She gave a little shiver, and this time exerted her strength to free herself and move away.

'And you are not a passionate woman, Alison?'

She turned, eight feet away, and faced him, hands clasped in front of her. 'I do not know what I am, Mr. Haggard.' She shrugged. 'How could I?'

But there was a peculiar expression in her eyes, which he could
not understand. He moved towards her. 'You can permit yourself passion with me, my darling.'

Her hands came up, between them. 'When we are married, Mr. Haggard. It is only three months now.'

Three months,' he said. 'An entire summer, just sitting here, with naught to do . . .'

'You could join a hunt,' she said. 'I know it is too early in the year, but you could train up a pack of hounds, break in some horses.'

'Hunt,' he said. 'I suppose I could.'

'I recommend it highly,' she said. 'Where is the nearest pack?' 'I have no idea.'

She frowned at him. 'But . . . your neighbouring gentry?'

'I have never met them.'

They have not come to call, Mr. Haggard?'

'Why, no, they have not.' He shrugged. 'I suppose they approve neither of my being a slave owner, nor of my earlier liaison.'

'Well, they will have to change,' Alison decided. 'As they will be happy to, once we are married. Mr. Haggard, I have the most splendid news.'