Maggie's Child (21 page)

‘Dukes’. She ventured. ‘Dukes, if I-‘

 A shout silenced Maggie and the laughter. A woman’s scream echoed around the valley.

Nathaniel and two farmhands working in the next field ran towards the sound. Dukes jumped to his feet and headed in their direction.

‘Stay there until we find out what is the problem. I will send Ruth to you.’

The girl settled onto the edge of a hay stack with Maggie. Lizzie had arrived with a small food basket.

‘What is going on? Who screamed?’ she asked.

‘It sounded as if it came from where Miss Clements walked,’ Ruth replied.

They tried to strain for a better view.

‘Look here she comes now.’ Maggie pointed towards the governess and Nathaniel. The woman was leaning heavily on his arm.

‘Is she injured? I wonder why she screamed. It is most unlike her,’ Ruth said. ‘She does look pale. Where are the others?’

‘No doubt we will find out soon enough. Lizzie, go put the kettle on, and get that brandy Jacob saved from Christmas. As Ruth said she looks shaken up, and Nathaniel looks no better.’ Maggie gave her instructions to Lizzie. ‘Ruth you go with her and we will follow on as soon as I find out what the problem is. Don’t worry about Miss Clements; she will be safe with me.’

The governess rushed through the gate towards Maggie.

‘Mrs Sawbury. Oh, it is too dreadful for words. I feel quite faint at the thought.’

‘Hush now; calm yourself, whatever is the problem?’ Maggie put her arms around the woman’s shoulders.

 ‘Why on earth made you scream like that?’ But the governess made no reply. Maggie turned to question Nathaniel. He looked as pale as the governess. Before he could answer Maggie spotted figures move across the meadow towards them. She could see Dukes and the two farm hands with what appeared to be two long poles between them. As they came closer Maggie could see it was a makeshift carrier, and Jacob lay upon it.

‘Oh, my husband has been found drunk in his hiding place, I see. No wonder she screamed, he is not a pretty sight drunk. Very drunk if they have to carry him home.’ Maggie walked towards the small group.

The governess groaned and moved swiftly away from the scene to the farmhouse. Nathaniel snatched at Maggie’s sleeve.

‘Maggie, wait. Jacob is not drunk. He’s dead. I am afraid your husband had been killed. He is not a pleasant sight. His face was trampled upon by one of your shires. I am so sorry. Jacob had mentioned he wanted to plough over the small field you left fallow last year. I tried to persuade him to try the squire’s new machine. He declined, not too politely I must say. Unfortunately your wooden one has seen better days. Today it snapped mid-seam. He must have stumbled and startled the pair.’

Maggie stared at Nathaniel and back at the rescue party. She tried to say something but her mind was numb. Everything seemed like a dream and she was not sure what to say or do. She had a dead husband. Jacob was dead. A man she disliked with as much hate as she had love for her son lay on a wooden frame, his face covered in sacking and not a breath left his body.

She started to laugh. Everyone around her stopped and stared. Maggie did not stop, she laughed louder and louder.

‘Dukes, do something.’ Nathaniel appealed to his driver.

‘Shock, she’s been taken by shock. Get her into the house. I will deal with him and the horses.’ Dukes nodded at the stretcher.

Nathaniel took Maggie home and was thankful the governess had informed Lizzie of what she had seen. Her friend rushed to Maggie the minute she walked into the kitchen. They held each other tightly; neither spoke there was no need for words, both knew the thoughts of the other. They were free, their tyrant was dead.

Maggie made herself busy around the chimney breast. All eyes were upon her. The governess hiccupped. The woman had sipped two tots of brandy according to Lizzie and Maggie was concerned for her well-being, the governess had suffered a dreadful shock.

Eventually Maggie had found what she was looking for, and addressed her son.

‘Nathaniel, you take my dray and get Ruth, and her governess home. I know it is not the finest of transport, but I think it is for the best they both get home and settled, they are in shock. Inform Ruth’s father of the situation, and give him this purse. It has money for the rent; I need to secure my place here at Windtop. Tell him I will organise a meeting with him, as soon as Jacob has been laid to rest.’

Nathaniel took the purse. ‘Slow down, Maggie. Take in the news, you are in shock. Look how you reacted when you first heard of Jacob’s death. I am so sorry for your loss.’ He broke all rules and hugged her to him. His tenderness was too much for Maggie, and she fell into his arms and sobbed. The governess and Ruth ignored the inappropriate action and sipped their brandies, Maggie had been his wet nurse and nanny, it was natural for Nathaniel to care for her.

‘I will be fine now. Thank you for your comfort. You are a good boy, Nathaniel.’ Maggie could not tell him her tears were not for her dead husband but for him. Her next meeting would be to prevent his marriage, and it broke her heart. He was in love, and she had known that feeling for a short time in her life. She also knew the pain endured when love is taken away again.

‘Go now, the three of you. I am so sorry you suffered such a dreadful event. I need to attend to my husband and the formalities. Nathaniel, please take the ladies.’

The visitors left and Maggie stood watching them until she could no longer see their dark forms in the distance. She closed the door and sat at the table. Lizzie handed her a glass of brandy, the house was silent. Neither said a word, they raised their glasses in unison, chinked them together and drank the liquid down in one.

Dukes came back to the house and told her that he had informed the undertaker and the man would collect Jacob later in the hour. He laid at rest in the cottage with Mason watching over him.

‘Do you have any instructions for them when they arrive, Maggie?’

‘Just to ensure the coffin is nailed tight, and dig the hole deep,’ Maggie responded with the boldness of a second glass of brandy.

‘Maggie.’ Lizzie was shocked at the frankness of her friend’s answer.

‘Come now, Lizzie. You are not going to tell me you are not a little relieved he has gone? Here I am a widow, and it is the happiest I have been for years. He was a cruel man. You two are my dearest friends, this is the only chance I will get to say these words, allow me to speak my mind.’

Dukes went to her and took her in his arms.

‘In which case while we are throwing etiquette out of the room, allow me to embrace a strong woman. I for one am pleased to know you two women are safe from harm. I no longer have to threaten him to keep his hands to himself.’ Maggie pulled back and stared at him. A questioning frown on her brow.’ Oh, yes. Many times I have found him worse for wear staggering home and warned him off.’

A tapping on the door announced the arrival of the undertaker. Maggie gave them Jacob’s best suit of clothes. They gave her a message from the parson who would pay a visit in the morning. He wanted her to consider when Jacob would be laid to rest in the local cemetery.

‘His parents are buried on the family plot that he made. Our children lay there as well. It is not consecrated ground, nor ground for paupers, however the previous parson blessed it, after a threat or two no doubt.’ Maggie ran her fingers through her hair. She had a decision to make, and it disturbed her.

Dukes listened intently as she spoke.

‘His parents had deserved to lie on church land, but he denied them that right. He does not deserve such a blessing.’ She noted the startled faces of the undertakers. ‘Forgive me, what I mean is, he was a non-believer and they were church goers. He deprived them and my babies, in my eyes. The parson is a good man, and comes to say a prayer over their graves once a year, for my peace of mind. He made it a holy place for me; I see it as sacred ground. Jacob should be buried with his parents and children. However, I do not want Jacob to be buried against village rules. This is difficult.’ She made it sound as if she was thinking only of him, and doing right by her husband. Then with a loud sigh she said, ‘I think it would best for all if he had a village funeral. Yes, we will lay him to rest in the churchyard. A wake can be held in The Cross Keys, he was well known there.’ She hung her head as if in deep thought. ‘Indeed, I think that would be most fitting for my husband, to be laid to rest in the village.’

The men nodded, and Maggie smiled inwardly. Dukes and Lizzie both spoke at once.

‘Most fitting.’

 Inside Maggie smiled. She had kept her dignity and removed Jacob from the farm, away from her babies. She would sleep well tonight.

***

Lizzie was washing windows when Maggie went downstairs the following morning. After the undertakers had taken Jacob, Lizzie collected her clothes and moved back in the house with Maggie.

They had talked for hours about the future of the farm. It was decided if she could continue renting; Maggie was more than capable of upgrading and running Windtop. She would keep all staff, and permanently employ a husband and wife team who helped out on an irregular basis. Lizzie said she would give up half her wage to help pay for them. She needed only a small payment to purchase personal items. She agreed to move into the middle sized bedroom in the farmhouse, and this way couple could live in the cottage. With the woman cooking for the workers, Lizzie’s working days would be easier. Maggie was grateful for her friend’s offer of a cut in salary. Until she knew what her financial situation was, she could do with all the support she could gather.

She went to the sink and waved at Lizzie on the other side of the glass.

‘Morning. The water is hot. I am cleaning these before the sun comes around. There are eggs in the basket and a rasher or two for frying in the skillet.’ Lizzie peered through one of the small panes.

‘Oh, Lizzie, where would I be without you? We are an odd pair. Best friends yet both Jacob’s women.’ Maggie poured tea into her mug, and stood leaning in the doorway watching Lizzie rub grime away from the glass.

‘We are not that anymore. We are who we are. Have you thought anymore about having a wake here for you know who down the road?’ Lizzie continued rubbing the glass clean.

Maggie grinned at the way Lizzie avoided saying Jacob’s name. Neither of them held back on their feelings about him when they were together. They did show a bit more respect when the other staff were around.

Mason waved over to them, and Maggie walked to greet him.

‘Lizzie, I have thought about this and the wake will be held at the Key’s tavern. The following day we will hold a private party for the staff here in the farm. No one else. I don’t want them to drink on the day. I do not want them caught up in the tavern with the fools he drank with. However, the following day, I will let them enjoy his brandy, ale and cider without restrictions after the morning work.’ Maggie said as she walked past her.

‘A good idea. Clear the mood and refresh the farm.’ Lizzie nodded in approval. ‘Poor old Mason, look he is so worried about Brutus, look.’ She pointed towards the horse and groom walking into the yard.

‘Morning, Mason. How are you today?’Maggie stroked the horse across the muzzle. He snorted his approval of her gentle touch.

‘I am not so bad, madam. Not so bad. Just giving the pair a clean, fair spooked they were this morning. I spotted blood on the straw, and thought Brutus was injured, but realised it was from yesterday. It must have been his hoof that killed the boss. He is not a dangerous or aggressive horse. He is normally so calm and gentle.’ He shook his head side to side.

‘The horse is not injured? That is a blessing for sure. If his master had had respect for him, he would not have been made to pull a broken, worn out plough. Poor Brutus, you must have been so scared.’ Maggie spoke softly and continued snuggling into the horse, gave him a final stroke and wiped her hands down her apron.

‘I have the squire and parson visiting today. Put the horses in the stables after grooming. Out of sight, out of mind. Jacob was killed in a ghastly accident, but should someone want to place blame, it is not going to be at these fellows. You can guarantee that fool of a constable will come along to puff out his pompous chest. He will want to make a mountain from a mole hill just to sound important.’

Mason gave a snort of approval.

‘I most certainly will, Maggie. Can I ask? Do you intend to find a manager to run the farm? The others are concerned about their jobs.’

‘I will speak to everyone after the funeral. The day after we are going to have a private wake here on the farm. Just us, away from prying eyes. I will have answers for everyone then. I can give you one now, Windtop will stay with me for as long as I can run it. Should the squire feel otherwise, I will get a written guarantee for the new tenant to keep you all in work. Lizzie will put you in the picture about my request for all staff attending the funeral.’

Maggie left him whistling and grooming. She heard the clop of Brutus’s shoes against the flint floor of the yard and gave a small smile. She had a fondness for that horse. Even more so now he had brightened her future.

Her next visit was to one of the men who had a skilled hand with wood. She instructed him to make a window box and hang it in front of the kitchen window, plus make a porch around the back door, with a trellis of willow to assist a climbing plant. Both tasks were to be finished by the day of the farm wake.

Lizzie had finished the windows and was cleaning out the hearth.

‘Reach into the salt hole and fetch out the two tins you find there please, Lizzie.’ Maggie called out to her.

She emptied their contents onto the table and went to the parlour - made a mental note to cover the mirror- and found the leather pouch where Jacob kept his spare leisure money. She fetched his outer coat from its hook and found a packet of money in a pocket. She always suspected he carried secret money.

‘There is nigh on seventy pounds here, Lizzie. Where on earth did he get that much money from?’ Maggie counted it over and over. Her figures always came out the same.