Runaway (20 page)

‘I did, my lord. I thought she needed exercise. I’m sorry if you consider I did wrong.’

Miss Judith was feeding Belle sugar and cooing at her. Belle was accepting it, but warily. She looked poised to dodge out of the way at any moment, her ears laid back. ‘Look what he’s done to her! Galloped her into a lather and frightened her!’ said Miss Judith.

‘I hold you responsible for this, John,’ said his lordship sternly. ‘You’re not to take Judith’s horse without permission again.’

‘Ever!’ added Miss Judith fiercely, sending him a look of dislike.

‘Yes, my lord,’ Lawrence replied.

I thought how dignified he was, sitting calmly and accepting the unfair reproaches without embarrassment and managing to hold on to a restless puppy at the same time. As for myself, I was flushed and shaking, feeling slandered but fearing I might lose my position if I defended myself. I kept my eyes on the ground, and tried to make myself as small and insignificant as possible.

‘Won’t you dismiss the dirty, arrogant boy, grandpapa?’ Miss Judith coaxed. From the corner of her eyes she darted me a look of hatred. I felt sick with fear.

‘Not today, Judith, m’dear. But he’s on a warning. Do you hear that, boy?’

‘Yes, my lord,’ I mumbled.

‘Bring the dog to the house, would you, Lawrence?’ added Lord Rutherford.

He turned to leave. Miss Judith followed him, her concern for her horse seemed to have disappeared and Belle was handed casually to Bridges without so much as a pat. As soon as the two had left, Bridges handed me Belle’s reins again. ‘Rub this horse down, will you, Charlie?’ he said with a wink.

Lawrence dismounted quietly and with a brief, ‘See you at six tomorrow morning, Charlie,’ he left, handing Storm over to Bridges.

We worked in silence, Bridges very properly not deigning to discuss the incident with someone as junior as I. Lovingly, I rubbed Belle down, until her bay hide gleamed in the evening sun. I was dreading parting from her the following day. We were the last in the yard when I finally led Belle to her box. I stood for a few moments, stroking her in peace and quiet before following the others in for dinner.

The roads, as we set out for London, were quiet so early in the morning. The day was deliciously cool with a promise of hot sun later. We passed cows returning from milking, sheep being driven to market, a carrier’s cart loaded high with goods, and a lumbering wagon. Once we’d reached the main road from Bath to London, we saw trains of packhorses heading for the capital loaded with wool, but none were Martha’s horses.

Lawrence drove in silence for the first couple of hours. He was rarely talkative early in the morning, which suited me well. At Chippenham, we stopped for some refreshment and Lawrence arranged for the return of Mustard and Cress to Deerhurst. He mounted the box seat again with hired horses harnessed to the chaise. I stood watching the ostlers rushing about and smiled to myself. I was very glad that particular job had been such a short episode in my career.

As the new horses stepped smartly out of the yard, I swung myself up onto my perch on the chaise as it passed me, in what was now a practised manner. ‘Climb over and sit beside me, Charlie. I get a crick in my neck talking to you when you’re standing behind me,’ Lawrence requested as we drove out of the town.

‘Will it not look odd?’ I asked dubiously.

‘Not if you are driving. Besides, I don’t have a great position to maintain, nor do I care as much for appearances as my titled relative.’

‘He might wish you to care, as we are sporting his crest and his livery,’ I remarked. Lawrence shrugged and gave me a quick grin over his shoulder.

I submitted, scrambling over the back of the seat, taking care not to get my dirty shoes on it. Lawrence handed over the reins and I drove the horses along the main London road. At first I was silent, for the horses were hard-mouthed and difficult to drive and the narrow road was busy. It took all my concentration. We passed a pike and Lawrence paid the toll.

‘Mistress Martha used to go round that one,’ I said with a grin, indicating the toll-gate. ‘There’s a path over the hill.’

‘All the packhorse trains do so where they can,’ acknowledged Lawrence. ‘In a chaise, we have no choice but to pay.’

‘What did you wish to speak about?’ I asked Lawrence as we left the gate at a trot. He was sitting with a relaxed attitude, one arm thrown back across the seat behind me, watching me handle the reins.

‘Firstly, I wished to mention that you drive a pair very competently now.’

‘Thank you.’

‘And secondly … Oh, nothing in particular. This will be a long journey and I wish to be entertained. Tell me about America!’

I must have looked surprised, for he chuckled. ‘I’ve never been out of England,’ he said. ‘It must be very different to here.’

‘You wouldn’t believe how different,’ I agreed. ‘It’s a vast, wild country. And there are huge areas with no people at all, only endless forests or, further north, grassland. It’s hard to imagine riding for four or even five days and seeing no sign of civilization at all, not even a house or a ploughed field.’

‘Not even natives?’

‘Yes, sometimes. Often we saw tracks or the remains of a fire.’

‘And were you never afraid?’

‘I was rarely alone. I was travelling with the regiment, you see, and all the wives and other followers. But it
was
dangerous at times, which is why my parents used to dress me … ’

I stopped in confusion, realizing how I’d been about to give myself away. There was an awkward silence.

‘Yes … ?’ Lawrence prompted me. There was a sudden frown on his face.

‘ … in shabby clothes, so I didn’t look as though I were worth robbing,’ I finished lamely. I searched my mind for a change of topic, desperate to draw him off. ‘So … so, did you never consider going into the army?’

‘Oh, yes, occasionally!’ said Lawrence, apparently successfully distracted. ‘Isn’t every boy tempted by that dandy red uniform? But my father, as I told you, was a navy man, so mainly I dreamed of a blue coat, not a red one.’

‘What changed?’ I asked curiously.

‘My dear boy, do you have
any
idea what commissions in the army or navy cost? I imagine you must, since your father served. Quite literally a small fortune.’

‘Yes, indeed. They are beyond the pockets of all but the wealthiest,’ I agreed. ‘It’s a scandal, seeing raw rich-boy officers coming in and taking control of experienced troops. Then getting them killed as often as not.’

‘But was your father not an officer?’ asked Lawrence with a faint smile.

‘He was a major. But by promotion, not purchase. He worked and fought hard for his rank.’

Lawrence nodded and sent me another of those sideways looks. ‘Tell me some more about him,’ he invited.

‘Oh, there’s nothing much to tell. He was a good man,’ I said uncomfortably. Lawrence asked about my family too often for my liking. Instead, I began describing the scenery in the Americas, or at least what I had seen of it, while remaining vague about where I had been.

‘I see I missed a great deal in relinquishing my childhood dream,’ Lawrence said after many questions. ‘But I love the work I do on the estate.’

‘Yes, you are fortunate. What will happen when Lord Rutherford dies? Will you still have the position? I have heard that Miss Judith’s father is dead. So who is heir to the Deerhurst estate?’

Lawrence’s mouth closed in a tight line and he frowned out over the backs of the horses. They pulled us steadily along a gravel road as it wound its way up a hill.

‘Does Lord Rutherford have other children? Who is next in line?’ I persisted.

Lawrence was silent for so long I thought he wasn’t going to reply. Finally he said, ‘You haven’t heard the gossip then? In the stables or the kitchen?’

‘No, I’ve heard nothing,’ I replied.

‘I suppose you associate mainly with the younger servants and it was before their time.’ He took a deep breath. ‘There was another son. An elder son, in fact.
He
was the heir, not Judith’s father who was the second son.’

‘But he died too? How sad.’

‘Not exactly. I’m not supposed to speak of this. Lord Rutherford has forbidden all mention of it; of him.’

‘Really?’ I asked. ‘He’s forbidden mention of his own son?’ I recalled my own parents’ love for my brother and me. I was certain nothing we could have done would have induced them to ban all mention of us.

‘There was a disagreement,’ Mr Lawrence told me. ‘The son wished to marry some quite inferior woman on the estate; one of Rutherford’s tenants. Lord Rutherford refused to countenance such a union.’

I gasped. Lawrence noticed but misconstrued the reason. ‘It may seem strange to you,’ he explained. ‘But this was more than twenty years ago. Marriage was, still is, a way of increasing land or wealth, of achieving alliances. For the heir especially, a good marriage is of the utmost importance. If he had chosen to marry a girl with no dowry, it would have been considered bad enough. But a farm girl was not even of his class; it would have meant social disgrace. Lord Rutherford would not allow it.’

I was silent, frozen with shock at his words. I could feel my hands turn ice cold and numb on the reins as Lawrence’s words sank into my brain. I remembered Mr Saunders’ words after he had read my mother’s letter
… Emily was still in love with …
He had mentioned an Andrew Lawrence. The inferior woman Lawrence was talking about … That must surely have been my mother? My brain seethed with possibilities. When I tried to speak, my voice didn’t sound like my own: ‘So he didn’t marry her?’ I asked faintly.

‘He did not. But Lord Rutherford had no joy from his victory. His son disappeared. He’s thought to have run away, but no one’s ever seen or heard a trace of him since. For all we know he could be dead.’

My heart was beating so quickly I could scarcely breathe. Sensing my inattention, the horses dropped to a walk. I forced myself to concentrate and urged them into a trot again.

‘And the young woman?’ I asked. ‘What became of her?’

‘I believe she is generally thought to have taken her own life. It all happened long before I came to Deerhurst.’

I swallowed hard. ‘Mr and Mrs Saunders’ daughter,’ I said faintly. ‘It was her, wasn’t it?’

‘Ah, so you have heard the story? Yes, she was their daughter. They never recovered from the sorrow of losing her.’

‘It’s so sad,’ I whispered. Was this my mother’s tale? She was forbidden to marry the man she loved and it broke her heart. But she had not died. I knew she’d loved my father with all her heart and soul; I’d witnessed their affection for each other every day of my childhood. But my father couldn’t have been a Lawrence. No, surely not. His name was Smith. Had my mother recovered and found love again? But the ring …

The puzzle had many more pieces now, but they still would not fit together for me. Why had my parents kept such secrets from me? It was all so confusing.

‘A very sad story indeed,’ said Lawrence beside me. He was looking into the distance, the frown still on his face. ‘Lord Rutherford still grieves for his son, although he will not show it. He is too proud. He threw himself into rebuilding his house and landscaping his park to distract himself. But still,’ he sighed, ‘I do not believe he has learned from it.’

‘He will not let Miss Judith marry as she chooses, you mean?’ I asked. I bit my lip at once, realizing that I should not betray my understanding of the family in this way. It was none of my business.

‘I apologize,’ said Mr Lawrence a little stiffly. ‘I’ve been indiscreet. I ought not to speak of the family to you in this way.’

‘I won’t say a word, I swear,’ I promised him. I slowed the horses as a wagon approached. The road was narrow and it would be tricky to pass.

Lawrence watched in silence while I negotiated the manoeuvre successfully. When we had passed it and the horses were trotting again, I asked: ‘But Mr Lawrence … to come back to my original question. If the eldest son is dead, who inherits the estate?’

There was a long pause before Lawrence replied. A shadow passed across his face. ‘Unless the son is found, I do,’ said Lawrence.