Replenish the Earth (22 page)

She began to feel a little better then. How handsome he looked! To think that such a man was marrying her! How happy her mother would have been for her.

Her nervousness made Will feel protective towards her, for the hand he was clasping was quivering! He realised suddenly that she was more important than the land, much more important. A woman like her would be friend, helpmeet and lover - all that a man needed. This one would not desert him if times turned bad. He squeezed her hand gently as he spoke his first words of response and smiled at her again as he finished them.

She too spoke firmly and with confidence the words which would bind them together for life, and when the ceremony was over and she heard Mr Rogers pronounce them man and wife, her heart swelled with joy.

Will whispered his personal promise. ‘I shall look after you, Sarah, for all the days of my life.’

‘And I you, Will.’

Again they gazed at one another, neither attempting to move, then the people at the back of the church cheered, reminding them that they were not yet alone. Lord and Lady Tarnly were smiling at them benignly, Mistress Pursley was wiping away a tear, but was also smiling, and Mr Jamieson was blowing his nose vigorously to hide his emotion.

Afterwards they were all invited to dine at the parsonage, where Mistress Jenks had surpassed herself and prepared a meal that would not have shamed royalty.

Lord and Lady Tarnly were very gracious. (‘We are become quite democratic and hobnob with farmers and all classes of person in their own homes,’ Lady Tarnly later wrote to one of her daughters.)

My lord, a noted trencherman, didn’t worry about who was there, he was too busy doing full justice to everything that was set before him.

Mistress Pursley sat mumchance, completely overawed by this exalted company, but enjoying the sight of her Will, looking so handsome and mixing with the gentry as if he’d been born to it. If only his father had lived to see this day! How proud her Fred would have been!

After the meal Mr Rogers made a little speech, rather rambling, for even two glasses of wine had gone to his head, and Lord Henry made another one, very jovial, for he had drunk several glasses of claret, was well-fed and felt benevolent towards the newly-wed couple. He wound up by proposing a toast to their health and wishing them a long life together, many good romps in their marital bed, and a large family to prove it. He guffawed heartily as he said this, ignoring his wife’s frowns.

(‘Your father made his usual wedding jokes, to the embarrassment of all concerned,’ wrote Lady Tarnly, embellishing the statement with a blot. ‘The poor bride blushed scarlet, but the groom took them in good part.’)

It seemed strange to Jessie Pursley to hear her Will addressed as Mr Bedham, when he had been christened Will Pursley in the very same church where he had just got wed, but she supposed she must try to get used to that, too. And she must get Daphne Jenks to give her the recipe for those tartlets - honey and almonds, she’d guess -
very
light and toothsome! She had noticed that Lord Tarnly, nobleman or not, had gobbled down a full half dozen of them like a greedy little boy. It made her feel more at ease to see such a human weakness in one of his rank.

Eventually, the festivities started flagging and Will began to talk about getting home.

‘I would enjoy a stroll after such a good meal,’ Mr Jamieson declared. ‘Mistress Pursley, may I invite you to accompany me back to the Manor on foot? It would be delightful to take the air, would it not?

That would leave the newly-wed couple some time to themselves, he thought complacently, as he watched them make preparations to leave.

‘I hope they’re happy together,’ he said when they had driven away.

Mr Rogers smiled after them. ‘I’m sure they will be.’

Which sentiments were echoed by everyone present.

* * * *

After some discussion over a pot of cider in The Golden Fleece, Hugh and Izzy made their way towards the Manor, to see what mischief they could wreak there, but before they had even reached the gates, Ted Haplin materialised from behind some bushes, his gun cocked. One of his sons stood behind him, similarly prepared for trouble.

‘Lost your way, hev you?’ Ted inquired sweetly.

‘Just takin’ a walk,’ snapped Eb. ‘It’s a public lane, ain’t it?’

‘No, ’tain’t! This be Bedham land, so you can just take your walks somewhere else in future. You’re not welcome here, an’ a watch’ll be kep’ over things from now on. Fond of Mistress Sarah, we are. Fond of a bit of peace, too.’

His dog, who stood nearly waist high, growled behind him. ‘Thass right, Nan, lass, you tell ’em!’ He grinned evilly. ‘Nice strong teeth, she has, my Nan. Keeps ’em sharp, a-chewin’ on bones. Crunches them bones up like they was made of piecrust, she does.’

The two men retreated.

* * * *

When Matthew Sewell heard that Lord and Lady Tarnly had attended the cowman’s wedding, when they would scarce give
him
the time of day, he was furious. And at the thought that they had even stayed for the wedding feast at the parsonage, he grew so angry that Mistress Sewell took to her bed again with the megrims and remained there for a whole week.

The servants at Marsh Bottom had a very hard time of it, with cuffs and blows scattered around on the slightest pretext, and even Sewell’s two henchmen not immune to his anger.

‘What if that woman produces an heir?’ he said to his son. ‘It is not to be borne. I will not
allow
it to happen!’ His fists clenched at the mere thought.

‘Do we really need their land?’ Edward asked. ‘After all, our estate is bigger than theirs, now.’

‘I not only need their land, I want them out of the village. I’ll have no other family trying to lord it over me. Some of those clods still consider Bedhams to be members of the squirearchy, and will not grant me my rightful title until I remove them, lock, stock and barrel.’

‘But - you can’t do that. It’d mean . . . ’ His voice faded away.

‘I can do what I please, you poltroon! Might is right and always will be.’

‘But - ’

His father’s face grew even redder. ‘Hold your tongue, you blithering fool! How are we ever to be accepted in the county if we do not have land - and
more land
than others? I’m doing this for you, but I don’t know why I bother. Fine heir I’ve got myself. Too dull-witted to understand anything, you are. Get out of my sight, damn you! And somebody bring me the rum.’

Edward was pleased to leave him, going to sulk in his room and finger the fine clothes he’d rather be wearing in a town. He’d never wanted to live in the country and longed for city life. He wanted fine clothes and witty company, not talk of cows and crops. But when had his father ever asked any of them what they wanted? His father only
told
them what to do. And was even now planning his sister’s marriage to an elderly but rich widower whom she detested.

But one day, even his father would die and then Edward would sell this place. That thought was his greatest comfort.

Several days later, Hugh came up with an idea that raised his master’s spirits greatly, an idea which horrified Edward and set his mother weeping with fear.

Chapter 12

I think it all went very well, don’t you?’ Sarah asked Will as they drove out of the village.

‘Aye, I suppose so. But it’s a lot of fuss over nothing, I reckon.’

She felt hurt and couldn’t hide it. ‘Would you call our wedding nothing?’ she asked in a small, tight voice.

He noticed how upset she was and berated himself for speaking so clumsily. He let the horse slow down - something Lally was not loathe to do - as he answered. ‘I call the fuss and show nothing, not the promises we made, Sarah. It’s what we do with our lives together that counts now, how we keep our bargain and spend our days together.’

‘Well, I enjoyed the fuss, myself,’ she muttered. ‘Once the ceremony was over, that is. That was an ordeal to me, everyone staring at me!’

‘Aye. I could feel your hand trembling.’ He captured the hand and raised it to his lips.

She found it hard to breathe and it was a good thing Lally now knew her own way home, because Will had completely forgotten to watch the road and was contemplating the strong firm hand of his wife instead. ‘I like your hands. They’re capable, those are. I look forward to seeing them holding my son one day.’

Warmth spread through her. ‘Oh, Will, so do I!’

As they approached the Manor, Ted Haplin stepped forward to greet them and open the gates.

‘Any problems while we were away?’ Will asked.

‘Nothing we couldn’t handle.’

Sarah looked from one to the other in dismay. ‘Why should there be trouble?’ When he didn’t answer, she said in a firm voice, ‘I wish to know, Will. You are not to hide these things from me.’

‘Oh, we were just taking precautions,’ he told her. ‘In case certain gentlemen found the thought of an unattended house tempting.’

She turned to Ted. ‘And - did they?’

He cleared his throat. ‘They got as far as these gates, then they saw us.’

All colour left her cheeks and her expression was so stricken that both men exchanged unhappy glances.

It was Ted who saved the day. ‘Got something for you, Mistress.’ He went behind some bushes and came out with a little plant wrapped in sacking. ‘My Poll sent you this, for a wedding day present. It has yellow flowers in early spring and she thought if you planted it in your gardens it might remind you of today.’

Sarah’s smile returned. ‘How kind of her! Please thank her for us.’

Will clicked to the horse and it began to move on.

Ted watched them go, his expression losing its geniality as soon as they were out of sight. ‘There’s trouble ahead for those two,’ he told his son. ‘I can feel it in my bones. If you see any of Sewell’s men sneaking around, you’re to tell me at once, you hear?’

‘Yes, Da.’

‘Or any strangers -
any at all!’

‘Yes, Da.’

When they got to the Manor, the bridal couple unloaded their presents. ‘I never thought to receive anything today,’ Sarah said, picking up the clock, which Lord and Lady Tarnly had given them and which she had carried carefully on her knee, not trusting it to the back of the trap.

In the parlour, she unpacked the other presents from Mrs Jenks’ a fine new shopping basket containing several jars of her best preserves. There was a silver tray from Mr Jamieson, who had gone into Sawbury by himself one day to buy it and had cunningly left it at Mr Rogers’ house on the way back, so that it should remain a secret until the wedding day. Parson had given them a pair of very pretty silver candlesticks which had once belonged to his mother.

‘Presents are well enough,’ said Will, ‘And ’tis a kindly thought to give us something, but I shan’t need a clock to tell me it’s time to rise in the morning or to milk the cows,
or
when I’m hungry for my dinner. And,’ he drew Sarah close, ‘I shan’t need a clock to tell me when to kiss my wife.’

She gave him her lips willingly. ‘I shall try to make you happy, Will,’ she promised as they drew apart. She loved the feel of his strong body against hers. She loved his beautiful, serious eyes, which changed to deepest black when something angered him, but which were luminously brown today, like chestnut shells. As his hands lingered on her shoulders, then slid slowly down her body pulling it close to him, she gasped and arched instinctively against him. She had often watched those hands caress one of his animals and wished they were touching her, but the reality was far better than the dream.

Colour flooded her cheeks at the direction her thoughts were taking, but she didn’t pretend that she wasn’t enjoying this.

‘I think we’ll go to bed early tonight, madam wife,’ he said softly.

She was beyond speech, for he was still caressing her, so she nodded and when he paused, she leaned forward to give him another kiss and run her fingers down his cheek.

The rest of the wedding day passed in a strange mixture of everyday chores and the sometimes awkward companionship of two people who hardly know each other’s ways. Will went out to check on the cows, but left the care of them to Mary and the others, it being such a special day and him in his best clothes still.

Sarah went to oversee preparations for a light supper, but found herself shooed back to her husband by Hannah. So she and Will went for a stroll round the gardens instead, discussing how they might improve them and where to plant Mrs Haplin’s bush.

In fact, since neither bride and groom were used to sitting idle, they were both much relieved when the evening drew to a close, with its final ritual of the tea-tray.

‘Will you take a dish of tea, Will?’ 

He hesitated. ‘Well, I .  . No. I thank you, Sarah. Truth to tell, I’ve small liking for tea. ‘Tis thin, bitter stuff.’

‘But you’ve taken tea with me several times!’

‘Ah. Yes, well - that was for the pleasure of your company. Only now we shall be living together,’ he gave one of the rare smiles that lit up his face, ‘I shan’t have any need for excuses.’

She felt a warm glow inside to think that he had enjoyed her company so much as to drink something he disliked. ‘Would you prefer a glass of wine, then?’

‘Nay, I’m no tipplepot. What I do like in the evening, though, is a pot of ale or cider, mulled in winter. My mother will be able to brew ale and cider for us now - she gets a fine sharp taste to them both. Better than what they serve at The Golden Fleece, to my mind.’

Sarah rang for Hannah and commanded a pot of cider for Mr Pur - er - Bedham, stumbling a little over his new name. To hide her embarrassment, she concentrated on pouring a dish of tea for herself, not knowing what to say next.

How little she knew about her husband! She stole a glance at him. He was slouched in a chair, his hands in his pockets, staring into the empty fireplace. He didn’t look unhappy, though; he looked relaxed, at peace with himself and his surroundings. She wondered if Will liked to chat in the evenings, or if he preferred to sit quietly. What did he eat for breakfast? What did he look like when he was asleep? Her mind shied away from that thought, for the wedding-night still lay ahead of her.