And her pleasure in Will’s company was equally strong. Face flushed at that thought, she hurried down the stairs and set to work on her parlour again.
* * * *
A little later Hannah Blair arrived, with half her worldly goods piled on Mistress Bell's handcart. Her daughter, Hetty, was helping young Ned Bell to push it, the pair of them laughing over something.
With Petey's aid, Hannah soon had her things unloaded and then sent Ned and Hetty back for the rest, the smaller things. When she came to ask what she should do, Sarah set her to cleaning the hallway and stairs. Later, the children came back with the rest of the Blairs' belongings and Sarah had the happy thought of setting little Hetty to supervise Petey's efforts to weed the drive, for that morning he had pulled up some of the few remaining ornamental plants by mistake. Hetty nodded solemnly and they left her in charge of him.
‘Will she be all right?’ Sarah wondered aloud. She turned to Hannah. ‘She won’t be frightened of him?’
‘She’s not frightened of any of God’s creatures, my Hetty isn't,’ replied Hannah serenely. ‘And they sense that, for they come to her when they run from others. And what is that poor soul out there, but one of God’s creatures?’
And so it proved. Petey quickly grew devoted to the little girl and would have followed her everywhere had he been allowed. With her to guide him, he proved capable of many more tasks than previously, so Sarah was soon able to reassure Hannah that her daughter was more than earning her keep. As was Hannah.
Sarah had never been so happy in her whole life.
* * * *
After the main meal of the day, which they took at the usual hour of two, Sarah asked Mary to show her where Daniel Macey lived and went off to try to recruit the final member of her staff. She had hardly begun to explore the grounds as yet, because they were so overgrown and she was afraid of falling over in the muddy conditions.
A narrow, well-defined path led from the back of the stables through the woods to a clearing where a small cottage stood in a neat garden. Even now, there were a few early snowdrops blooming and some evergreen bushes to take the eye from the leafless trees. In many of the bare patches of earth, new shoots were pushing their way through the soil, a promise of the yearly renewal of life.
‘He d’keep his garden better than his house,’ grumbled Mary. ‘Daniel! Daniel Macey! Where be you?’
‘Round back,’ called a voice.
‘New mistress be come to see you,’ called Mary.
‘Well, she won’t see me from there, will she? You’ll hev to bring her round here.’
Mary looked at Sarah apologetically. ‘He d’get more quibbly all the time. It’s his age, I b’lieve.’
‘I don’t mind going round the back. Perhaps he’s in the middle of doing something.’
‘Oh, he’ll be doing something, all right. Never stops doin’ things to that garden of his, he don’t. That's why he’ve lived so long. Over eighty, he is. Ain’t found time to die yet!’
Cackling at her own pleasantry, Mary led the way round the house to where a very old man was digging in his vegetable patch. He was thin, but still looked remarkably hale for his years, with a halo of white hair around a bald pate.
‘You should ha’ left that an’ come out the front!’ complained Mary. ‘’Tain’t polite to make Mistress Sarah come round the back. This be our new mistress, Daniel, Mistress Elizabeth's daughter. And this be Daniel Macey.’
The old man eyed Sarah from under bushy white brows. ‘You don’t look much like your mother.’
‘You mind your tongue, Daniel Macey!’ exclaimed Mary, scandalised at this familiarity.
‘Too old to mind me tongue,’ he cackled. ‘If a man can’t say what he thinks when he’s said goodbye to eighty, what can he do? The food don’t taste so good now I’ve lost my teeth, the ale makes me dizzy and my wife’s long dead, poor lass. Not but what I don’t bid ye welcome, mistress. You look a man steady in the eye, at least.’
‘Thank you,’ said Sarah, rather enjoying his frankness. ‘May I stay and talk to you for a while?’
‘Talking's free and there’s a seat over yonder. Send that silly wench back to the big house or we’ll not get a word in edgewise. Never stops nattering, she don’t!’
‘Well!’ Mary flounced off, pausing at the corner of the house to throw over her shoulder, ‘Don’t you put up with none of his rudeness, mistress!’
Daniel ignored this jibe and went on digging slowly and carefully, not wasting a movement. Sarah simply sat for a few minutes watching him. ‘Your garden's beautiful,’ she said at last.
He nodded in acknowledgement of this compliment, but didn’t waste any breath on a reply. When he came to the end of the row, he leaned on his spade and looked at her. ‘Be you really going to stay on at the Manor? They d’say so in the village.’
‘Yes. And I wondered - if you had time - if you would help me grow some vegetables. Petey can do the heavy digging for you, but I don’t know anything about gardening. I would pay you, of course.’
‘Mmm. Thass an idea.’ He paused and eyed her sideways from a pair of still bright blue eyes, ‘I don’t need money, but I never could get the hang o’ cookin'. Messin' around in a kitchen is women's work. I’d welcome some proper vittles reg’lar like. Mind, I’ll not help you fill the garden up with fancy rockeries an’ statues. I don’t like statues! Nasty, heathen things, statues are, folk with no clothes on! What folks want to put ’em in their gardens for, I’ve never knowed.
He
bought some statues once. Dangy things got broke one stormy night, they did.’
As he chortled softly to himself, she smiled, guessing that the breakages had not been accidental. She waited patiently for him to finish enjoying his memory of old mischiefs before speaking. ‘I’ve neither the money nor the inclination to purchase statues, but if we could grow some food, well, the less I have to buy, the more money I’ll have left for repairs.’
He nodded approvingly. ‘Sensible, that. You’re like your grandmother. And yes, I’ll help you, mistress, and glad to.’ He wiped his dirty hands on the side of his breeches and solemnly shook hands with her to seal the bargain. ‘Now,’ he said, looking round with satisfaction, ‘this be all the digging I can do for today. We’d better go an’ see what’s left in that old kitchen garden of yours so I can decide what’s needed, hadn't we?’
As they began to walk, he cackled again. ‘Eh, what wi’ your lameness an’ my rheumatiz, we make a good pair walkin’ together, don’t we?’
And she found herself chuckling with him. It didn’t seem to matter to these people that she was lame, though it had always been a secret shame to her when urchins shouted after her in the street.
So now, she thought later, as she strolled back to the house after exploring the vegetable garden with Daniel, she had five servants, she who had always had everything to do for herself. Five servants, a great wreck of a house and an extremely hostile neighbour.
A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of Mr Sewell. She was sure she hadn’t heard the last of him. Then she lifted her chin. Let him do his worst! She wasn’t alone any more.
A stray memory of the way Will Pursley had protected her today, of his earnest face gazing at her across the fireplace, sent her smiling into sleep that night.
Chapter 6
Two hours later Sarah was woken up by something. She lay for a moment, trying to gather her wits, then sat up in shock as she heard the sound again. It sounded like someone moving about downstairs.
She sat bolt upright, her heart thudding, as she realised there
was
someone downstairs!. There was no one to call to for help, so she would have to go and investigate. Well, she’d done that before now, in one or two of their lodging houses. Sliding out of bed, she swung her cloak over her white nightgown and looked round for something heavy to carry, in case she was attacked. Her heart thudding, she picked up one of the pewter candlesticks and hefted it in her hand. Yes, that would do!
Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and crept down the dark stairs in her bare feet. The noises seemed to be coming from the big parlour. Who could it be? Surely everyone in the village knew that there was nothing worth stealing at the Manor?
Then she smelled burning. Without thinking of her own safety, she threw open the door of the parlour, screaming at the top of her voice for Hannah and Mary. In the dimness she saw two figures crouched over a pile of what looked like smouldering twigs near one of the chairs. They weren’t going to set fire to her house! Still acting on sheer instinct, she rushed across at them, brandishing the candlestick.
As they tried to grab hold of her, she caught one of them a glancing blow on the head and heard him yelp then swear. The other seized her arm. She screamed again and swung the candlestick, but the men pushed her over. As the flames shot higher, one of them tried to muffle her mouth and hold her back, but she managed to bite him and scream again.
There were voices coming from the hallway now, shouting incoherently. When figures appeared at the door, the men let go of Sarah and dived for the window. By the time she stood up, they were outside and she could hear their feet crunching down the gravel driveway.
Her attention was now focused on the fire. Swinging the cloak off her shoulders, she threw it over the flames in one swift movement and began to stamp out the blaze beneath it. There was an acrid smell of burning wool, but the flames were soon smothered. Hannah had rushed to her side to help, but Mary stood frozen by the door, and Petey could be heard whimpering somewhere down the hallway.
There was a patter of footsteps and Hetty appeared in the doorway carrying a lit candle. As she moved forward, it flickered in the draft from the open window, but still threw enough light for the two women to check there was no one else lurking in the room.
‘Good child!’ Hannah went to pull the sash window down. She turned to take the candle, lighting another for Sarah then starting to examine the damage. ‘Not as bad as I’d feared. We’ll need to replace two or three floorboards and the chair is damaged, but that’s all. What happened here, mistress?’
‘I heard a noise and came to investigate. Two men were in here - they must have broken in - I think they were trying to set the house on fire. Luckily, I’m a light sleeper.’
‘Whatever would anyone want to do that for?’ gasped Mary, still clutching the doorpost.
There was silence as Sarah and Hannah looked at each other. 'Why indeed?’ asked Sarah slowly.
‘
Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s house,’
quoted Hannah. Her eyes met Sarah’s and she shook her head slowly from side to side in disapproval.
There was no mistaking her meaning.
‘He doesn’t want the house, just the land. And we cannot be sure it was his men, so we’d better not make any accusations. It was too dark for me to see them clearly.’
‘Who else could it be, mistress? This isn’t a lawless district. I’ve never heard of a robbery round here, no, nor anything else much, ’cept a bit o’ poaching.’
‘But we have no proof,’ Sarah repeated quietly, ‘so we can do nothing.’
‘What be you sayin’?’ quavered Mary.
Sarah didn’t try to explain. If Mary hadn’t guessed who was behind this incursion, best to leave her in ignorance. ‘There’s nothing more to be done now,’ she said soothingly. ‘I don’t think they’ll be back, but I shall sleep down here for the rest of the night - just in case.’
‘I’ll bide with you, mistress,’ announced Hannah. ‘You can’t stay here on your own.’
‘Thank you.’ Sarah sat down on a chair, the delayed shock making her legs feel suddenly shaky.
‘We need a dog, mistress,’ Hannah declared. ‘Ted Haplin's got some pups from his bitch Nan. Good dog, she is, cleverest I’ve ever seen. We could get one, two even.’
‘A pup wouldn’t be much protection,’ objected Sarah.
‘No, but it’d give us warning if anyone came prowling round. And pups soon grow into dogs. ’Specially Nan’s pups. She’s big and strong, she is.’
‘Petey's afeared o’ dogs,’ said Mary, who was still hovering in the doorway, her arm around her son.
Standing trembling beside her, he nodded his head vigorously in agreement.
‘Petey wouldn’t be afraid of a baby dog, would you Petey?’ asked Hetty, going over to pat his arm.
‘Dogs bite you,’ declared Petey, rolling his eyes.
‘Baby dogs don’t bite,’ said Hetty reassuringly. ‘I’ll show you how to make friends with a dog, Petey. Dogs are nice if you treat them kindly.’
He didn’t appear convinced.
‘Mary, you and your son may as well get back to bed,’ Sarah said, wanting to think things through. ‘No use losing all your sleep.’
‘I’ll take you to bed, Hetty,’ Hannah told her daughter. ‘Then I’ll go and get some blankets for us, Mistress Sarah. We might as well make ourselves comfortable and you’re shivering now.’
When she’d gone, Sarah sat worrying. Was there nothing that man wouldn’t do to get hold of her house? Apparently not. ‘He’ll have to kill me first,’ she vowed. Then shivered again. Surely he wouldn’t go to such lengths?
But a memory of his angry face made her think he might.
* * * *
Hannah insisted Sarah return to her bedroom once it was fully light. ‘Now that the others are up and about now, we’ll know if anyone comes to the house.’
The bed looked so inviting Sarah lay down for an hour’s rest, feeling exhausted. There had been no more disturbances, but she’d not been comfortable on the armchair and had started awake at intervals thinking she heard intruders.
She woke some time later, amazed that she’d gone back to sleep so easily. Getting up, she pulled back the bed curtains, then the window draperies, gazing in pride at the room as the light flooded in. Everything was clean now, with window panes that twinkled when the sun shone on them and furniture gleaming with a first polishing of beeswax and elbow grease. If there were worn patches in the carpet and hangings, it mattered little to her, for they were still grander than anything she’d ever known, and anyway, a little judicious rearrangement of the furniture had hidden the worst of the carpet’s holes.
She smiled as she swung her feet over the side of the bed, easing her stiff hip carefully into movement until her joints loosened up.