The Girl with the Red Ribbon (39 page)

‘Anyway, I saw my solicitor on the way back, filed for an annulment on the grounds of non-consummation and changed my will. Everything's signed, sealed and settled. My, but this baked spud's grand. It's ages since I had
anything so tasty,' he said, pushing aside his empty dish and biting into the soft potato.

Knowing it was her father's way of changing the subject, Rowan turned her attention back to her own food. Then she had a thought.

‘Did you mention the mirror to Sab?' she asked.

‘No need, was there? We know Fanny sold it to that pedlar. Sab being in Saltmouth around the same time must have been coincidence.'

Rowan smiled, relieved her dear friend need never know of her ill-founded thoughts. Still, it didn't help her get it back, did it? And get it back she would, she vowed, gently stroking the clover in her pocket. Then, there was her ribbon … Her head throbbing, she bade her father good night and went up to her old room.

Carefully she placed her clover between two books, then throwing herself down on the bed, thought back over the past few days. It seemed she'd lost everything she held dear: Jack, her ribbon, her job and her mirror. Whilst it was lovely to be back with her father, she knew in her heart farm life was no longer for her and she couldn't remain here. What a tangle she found herself in.

Through the window filtered the silvery light of the moon. ‘Please help me solve my knotty problems,' she whispered up at it. Knotty! Why, that was it. Quickly, she rummaged in her chest until she found a length of string. Carefully placing a candle in each corner of the room, she cast her circle and made her acknowledgement. Seating herself in the centre and drawing energy up from her toes, she stared hard at each flickering flame in turn. Then holding the string tightly, she closed her eyes.

Ye, who kens the mystery of the unhewn stone,

Banish my darkness, light my way.

Carefully she tied four knots, one for each of her problems. Intoning, after each one:

One for the sun who brings the light,

Two for the stars that shine so bright,

Three for the moon who silvers the sky,

Four for the clouds that shield her by.

Answer the questions on my tongue,

Share your secrets yet unknown.

So mote it be.

Sending her thanks soaring to the skies and moving widdershins, she carefully blew out each flame. Then placing the knotted string under her pillow, she climbed into bed and closed her eyes.

Next morning Rowan helped Mrs Stokes move her pitifully few things back into her cottage.

‘There's nothing like being home,' she cried, and although Rowan was pleased for the woman, she couldn't help wondering what the future held for her.

The next few days passed in a frenzy of cleaning, cooking and helping her father harvest the crops that were ready. But no matter how hard she tried to settle back into farm life, her heart wasn't in it, and her spirit was restless. Jack was constantly on her mind, and she found herself staring down over the valley, willing him to appear. Many times she went back over the conversation they'd had at the Coffee House, yet she could find no reason for his sudden coolness towards her.

She really missed the bustling atmosphere of the shop, calling upon the ladies of Saltmouth and personalizing their dresses and bonnets. The abundance of colourful flowers and herbs in the garden was a constant reminder of the job she now realized she'd loved so much.

To her consternation, her charm showed no sign of working. Every night she'd taken the string from under her pillow, untying one knot every time, but nothing had happened. Now there was only one remaining. Staring down at the white skin around her wrist, she sighed. Had
it been the ribbon that made things happen, or perhaps her beloved mirror?

‘Well, hello there, stranger.' The familiar voice interrupted her musing and she spun round in surprise.

‘Sab, I didn't expect you so soon,' she cried delightedly. He smiled his lopsided grin, hefting his bundle higher onto his shoulder.

‘Well, that's a fine way to greet your old friend, and after I pleaded with the carter to hurry so as to be here in time for luncheon,' he said, his eyes twinkling.

‘Sorry, Sab – or should I say Joe now – Father didn't know when you'd be arriving,' she answered.

‘Think I'll revert to Sab. Seems right now I'm coming back. Got to help Farmer John finish harvesting, then I'll be home for good. I was that pleased when Uncle told me he'd sent the old crone packing. Going to be quite like old times, isn't it?'

Rowan nodded, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. Was she destined to stay here? Then, realizing she was being churlish, she grinned.

‘Welcome back, Sab,' she said, injecting more enthusiasm into her voice. It wasn't his fault he wasn't Jack.

‘Any grub going? I'm starving.'

The sight of the familiar cheeky face lifted her spirits and she smiled. ‘Funny you should say that. I baked this morning, so there'll be fresh bread and cheese for your meal.'

Sab rubbed his stomach appreciatively. ‘Farmer John's wife is a good cook, but her baking isn't a patch on yours.'

‘And I suppose you think flattery will get you bigger portions?' she quipped.

‘But, of course. That and my fatal charm. I've brought some of my things with me, so I'll take them up to my room, then go and find Uncle,' he announced, then frowned. ‘That is, if my room is …'

‘Don't worry, Sab, the shippon and your room are just as they were. Seems Fanny never got round to changing anything there.'

He grinned in reply and she watched him head towards the farmhouse before returning to her weeding. His light-hearted banter would lighten things up, and her father would certainly benefit from some male company. Digging the fork into the tilth, she wondered if she'd been wrong to assume Jack would return her ribbon. Maybe he no longer cared. Perhaps she should go to Saltmouth and ask him what was wrong. But that would hardly be
comme il faut
, as Louisa would have said.

The clatter of hooves on the cobbles in the yard interrupted her musing. She jumped to her feet, staring in amazement. For there, as if she'd conjured him up, was Jack sitting on a horse alongside another Preventative, who saluted.

‘Good day to you, Miss Clode. We've called by to let your father know we intercepted owlers at Saltcombe Regis where the boats were waiting to take the fleeces to France. Perhaps you could tell him he is no longer implicated and has no need to worry.'

‘Thank you, I will,' she said. Feeling Jack's gaze burning into her, she turned and stared at him. As he gave a tentative smile, warmth flooded through her, melting the ice that had encased her insides.

‘You all right, Rowan?' Sab called, hurrying towards them.

In an instant Jack's expression changed to one of dismay. ‘Is that him?' he asked, in a tight voice. The senior officer nodded.

Jack turned and spoke to the other officer, who nodded and, with a salute in their direction, rode away.

Rowan watched as Jack dismounted and tied his horse to the post. He looked so stern her stomach turned right over.

‘You are Sab?' he asked.

Sab frowned. ‘I am, but I've done nothing wrong.'

‘I have a message for Edward Clode. Perhaps you would immediately convey to him that we have apprehended the owlers and he has been absolved of any blame.'

‘That's wonderful news, isn't it, Sab?' Rowan said, but Jack continued staring at Sab until he finally nodded and made his way back to the farmhouse. Only then did he look at Rowan. She stared back and silence stretched before them until she couldn't bear it a moment longer.

‘I told you Father was innocent, didn't I?' He nodded and, when he still didn't say anything, she cried, ‘He is a fine, honest man.'

‘But what about his daughter?' Jack asked. Rowan felt sick. So Mr Acland had carried out his threat. ‘I couldn't believe it when Vaughan told me,' he continued. Rowan frowned. Mr Acland wasn't called Vaughan. ‘Why didn't you tell me yourself, Rowan? I would have been hurt but I'd have tried to understand. As Auntie says, you are very young and if someone paid you attention whilst I was away …'

‘Paid me attention? Whilst you were away? Jack Carslake, what are you on about?' she cried.

‘That Sab. Vaughan saw you walking along the Mall with him. Said you were laughing and joking and clearly knew each other extremely well. Now I see only too well, and I can't deny I was hurt at the thought of being cuckolded,' he laughed coarsely, jerking his thumb in the direction of Sab's departing back. Relief flooded through her and she burst out laughing.

‘Oh, Jack, of course I know Sab very well. We were brought up together on the farm here.'

‘What?' he exclaimed.

‘Yes, we bumped into each other when I was returning from delivering a bonnet. We hadn't seen each other for so long we went for a walk to catch up.'

‘But why didn't you tell me?'

‘I intended to but when you picked me up you were as prickly as a hedgehog.'

He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Oh, Rowan, you do tell it like it is. I'm so pleased the air is clear between us. I can return to my duties with a lighter heart knowing we no longer have any secrets between us. Although next time I tell you about a tip-off I'll expect you to be more discreet. Can't have my intended ruining my career chances, can I?'

His intended? Her heart leaped. But, as he stood there grinning at her, Rowan knew she had to tell him about her past.

‘Before you go, Jack, there's something you need to know. Something that might affect our future relationship,' she whispered nervously.

He frowned and gestured to the fallen tree trunk nearby. ‘Sounds serious,' he said. ‘Shall we sit for a moment whilst you tell me?'

She nodded and when they were seated, took a deep breath and told him about her time in the asylum.

‘So you see, Jack, you might not wish to continue our relationship now. Especially if someone like Mr Acland does tell,' Rowan finished up.

There was silence save for the rustling of leaves and the lowing of the cattle in the nearby field.

‘Well, I can't deny this has come as a shock, Rowan. If it's any consolation I don't think you have anything to fear from Mr Acland. He sounds like a bully who uses what he can to get his own way. Once he finds out I know your secret he'll have no hold on you and will move on to his next target.'

Rowan smiled at him, grateful for his reassurance. But he didn't smile back. Getting to his feet, he stared at her gravely, his next words sending her spirits diving to the depths.

‘I must get back to the station now or they'll be wondering where I am. Thank you for telling me, Rowan, although I cannot deny I'm hurt you haven't felt able to open up to me before about such an important part of your life. It is abundantly clear we don't know each other as well as I thought we did,' he said, giving a tight smile.

She watched as he mounted his horse, desperation spurring her on to call, ‘But, Jack, you must understand that I had my future to think of.'

‘As do I, Rowan. As do I.' With a nod, he picked up the reins and galloped away.

She stood watching until the dust had settled and then threw herself to the ground. That was that, then, she thought, dashing the tears from her cheek. So much for the truth, Mother, she sobbed.

Finally spent, she picked herself up and made her way back to the farmhouse where her father and Sab, having finished their midday meal, were deep in conversation.

‘Conscience wouldn't let me deal with them owlers, however much Fanny pleaded. To thy own self be true. Isn't that what your mother used to say, Rowan?' Edward said, looking up as she entered the room.

She nodded and forced a smile. If only she'd trusted her father, Jack wouldn't have found her here.

‘You not having anything to eat?' Sab asked.

She shook her head. Even the thought of food made her feel sick.

‘Well, come along, Sab, we'd better get on if we're to get the ditches cleared before you return to Farmer John tomorrow morning,' her father said, getting to his feet.

‘I know, Uncle Ted,' Sab replied. ‘Wish I could stay here but he's been good to me and I can't let him down. I'll be right glad to be back here permanent, like. I was telling Rowan earlier, nobody bakes like she does.'

Rowan smiled and started clearing their platters away, but in the privacy of the scullery, she leaned against the sink and wept. Clearly Jack couldn't bring himself to forgive her. Was she destined to stay here for ever? She couldn't just leave the men. They needed someone to cook and care for them, didn't they?

That night, she took the string from under her pillow and, gripping it tightly, intoned:

Let me now regain true harmony,

Oh blessed one.

So mote it be.

Then slowly and deliberately, she untied the final knot. Replacing the now smooth length under her pillow, she pulled the bedcover over her head and willed the charm to work.

Visions of Jack haunted her dreams. In the first, he came to her wearing a green bonnet and holding out her mirror. In the second he was wearing a red one and waving her ribbon. The third time he appeared in a black mourning bonnet, his eyes and nose the colour of jet. Then everything changed. They were standing facing each other, separated by streams of ribbons.

She woke feeling drained, but knowing that whatever happened, she couldn't remain here. Mrs Stokes was right, she had changed. Life on the farm was no longer right for her. She'd so enjoyed her job in Saltmouth, dealing with the ladies' requirements. Her thoughts turned to Louisa and that horrible confrontation. She could see now that she had acted hastily when she'd seen the mirror. Had she been rude to Louisa? She really couldn't recall but she did remember being accused of theft. Should she return and try to clear her name? In all fairness, although she didn't think he would say anything, she needed to warn Louisa that Jack knew about her past, and sooner rather than later.

Who would look after the men, though? They might have been pleased they'd fed themselves but that was only because she'd made the bread, butter and cheese!

Perhaps she'd ask Mrs Stokes if she had any ideas who could look after them in her absence.

Jumping out of bed, she stared out over the yard, where her father and Sab were already carrying pails of milk to the dairy. Her arm knocked against the books on the windowsill, reminding her she'd placed her clover between them. Pulling out the now perfectly pressed specimen, she smiled, remembering the first time she'd found one. She'd been deliberating on what she should wish for, when her mother had, in an unusually serious moment, told her it was up to folk to make their own luck.

‘That's what you were trying to remind me, Mother,' Rowan whispered. ‘I understand what to do, but need to know if this is the right time.' Throwing on her homespun, she raced down the stairs and there on the back of the chair lay her freshly laundered yellow dress, stockings and petticoat. Her heart leaped, for if she was to return to Saltmouth, she needed to be smartly attired.

Before she could change her mind, she ran over to Mrs Stokes's cottage and banged on the door.