A Winter Chase (The Mercer's House Book 1) Read online

  “Well, no, not much, I admit it. But if I do not care greatly about the Park, I do care about my family, brother, and I know that Father will be relieved of that dreadful desperation now. He hides it well, but financial worries have ground him down remorselessly since Grandfather’s death, and now he will be free of all that. For the first time, his income will exceed his expenditure, and there will be a little money to set aside for Patricia, perhaps. And we still have the Manor, which is our real home.”

  “I shall hate it,” Michael said morosely, shoulders hunched, as they began to walk again. “We shall be cooped up together, all six of us, and Letitia’s horrid infants. What a life!”

  “There is plenty of room at the Rectory,” James said.

  Michael’s eyebrows lifted. “Truly? Are you in all earnest offering me a home?”

  “Of course. Why not? I did wonder about Patricia, for Letitia will treat her just like a servant, you may be sure, but the horrid infants are a great attraction to her, for some peculiar reason. But you are always welcome, you know that.”

  “You have never mentioned such a scheme before,” Michael said, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

  “I never thought you would be interested.”

  “Of course I would be interested! Although… it would be cruel, do you not think, to leave Father to the tender mercies of Morgan and Charles? I should never be able to enjoy an evening at the Rectory, knowing they would have to call upon one of the women to make up a four for whist.”

  “You could walk over there every evening after dinner,” James said. “In fact, there would be little walking to be done, since I dine there more often than not.”

  “No, I could not abandon Father. It is important in the hour of his great loss to support him in every way that I can, do you not agree?”

  James sighed. “Of course.”

  “And I am the eldest son — the heir. It is my duty to be there.”

  “I am sure you are right,” James said.

  “Well, there is the Rectory now, so I will leave you, little brother. Au revoir.”

  And with a quick wave, he was gone, leaving James to shake his head in affection. His brother would never change.

  Whistling, he continued on to the Rectory.

  1: Leaving Sagborough

  SAGBOROUGH, WEST RIDING

  JANUARY

  Julia had endured fourteen farewell dinners, each more tedious than the last. As if it were not enough that every day must be spent kneeling before a trunk or box or portmanteau, folding and tucking and wrapping, but every evening they were all to don their finery, or what remained unpacked, and venture out to be congratulated or condoled, according to the opinion of the person offering the sentiment. There were those who thought they were entirely mad to leave the blessed country of Yorkshire to venture into the decadent south. There were those who envied them their opportunity to climb the ladder of society a little. And there were those who were no doubt glad of their going, or foretold catastrophe, or wished them gone long since. They all offered good wishes, but Julia took leave to doubt the sincerity of many of them.

  Their final evening at Sagborough was spent in their own home, but if they had expected a quiet time, a respite before the rigours of the journey, they were mistaken. Everyone who regarded himself as a particular friend came to wish them a final farewell, and it seemed they had a great many particular friends, for the drawing room was full, and the parlour next door almost so.

  Allie was cross, of course. The house should have been solely hers, as she whispered to anyone who would listen. As the eldest daughter of the family, the abandoned family home should rightfully have come to her, and not to Ted, who wasn’t even a legitimate son, for all he’d taken the Fletcher name. Now they were all to live together, Allie and Jack, and their three bairns, and Ted and Cathy with their four, all crammed in together, and Cathy ruling the domestic sphere. But Pa had been unmoved.

  “You’re a Ewbank now, Allie,” he’d said, smiling ruefully at her. “You made your choice, and you must live with the consequences. Ted’s my son and my blood, just as much as you are, and he bears the family name, too. I want a Fletcher to have this house that’s been ours for so long. Four generations of Fletchers have lived here, and it’s right and proper that it should pass to a fifth. Will won’t need it, for he’ll inherit this grand estate of ours down south, and Johnny’s well set at Cambridge and needs nothing from me, so Ted’s the best person to have it. He’s got the warehouses to manage and the business to tend, and he can do that better from here. He’s the only Mr Fletcher of Fletcher’s Import and Export Company now, and he needs to live according to his position in this town.”

  “But it will be so crowded, with two families living in a house intended for one.”

  “It’s generous of Ted and Cathy to offer to share,” he said. “It’ll save you all a bit of money, and you must approve that, the good little housewife that you are. In time, Jack will have enough saved to buy you a house of your own, but it’s a good arrangement for now, and I shall be glad to think of you all living in this house, where we’ve all been so happy. Be content, Allie.”

  Ted and Cathy seemed rather stunned by their good fortune, but the papers had been drawn up that day, with the whole family watching.

  “Bridges are burned now and no mistake,” Will had whispered in Julia’s ear as Pa signed his name with a flourish.

  “You ought to be cross about it,” Julia whispered back. “You’re the eldest legitimate son, the family house should be yours.”

  Will had shrugged. “I’ll get a better one. Chadwell Park… I shall be master of Chadwell Park, in the far distant future, and I shall like that very well, I assure you.”

  That evening, the two stood a little aside from the crowds thronging the drawing room.

  “Aren’t you the least bit sorry to be leaving?” Julia said to him. “You have friends here, and favourite rides, and… and female friends.”

  Will laughed. “I have other friends, friends I made at Harrow and Cambridge, and I shall make more. And there are females in Hertfordshire, I am certain. What about you? What will you miss?”

  “My walks, I suppose, but there will be hundreds of acres of walks in Hertfordshire. I can’t wait!”

  “No friends?”

  “My real friends are going with me — Rosie, Angie, Bella, you, Johnny. Pa and the new Mama, too. I shan’t be leaving anyone behind that I regard as an intimate friend. Unlike Rosie. How will she manage without Belinda Jupp? Look at them, weeping together over there.”

  “They will write each other huge letters, every page double crossed,” Will said with a shrug.

  “It’s not quite the same,” Julia said thoughtfully. “And poor Ricky!”

  “Ricky Jupp? Ricky the apothecary?”

  “He’s been in love with Rosie for years,” Julia said. “You must have noticed it.”

  That brought another shrug of Will’s elegantly clad shoulders. “Half the young men of Sagborough have been in love with Rosie for years. The Star of the North, they called her in York, remember? She is by far too beautiful to be constrained by Yorkshire, and especially she should not throw herself away on an apothecary. She will be a huge success in London, and have the eligible men of the Beau Monde at her feet, you may be sure. Rosie will marry very well indeed, or I am a Chinaman.”

  “What about you, Will?” Julia said slyly. “Are you going to marry very well indeed, too?”

  “Certainly I am… but not yet. I am only six and twenty, Jules, and I want to enjoy myself before getting leg-shackled. I shall not even consider matrimony until I am thirty. At least!”

  “Well, I don’t plan to marry at all,” she said robustly. “After all, who would have me? I have no accomplishments, I trip over things and always have a tear in my gown. Oh, and I speak my mind. What man of sense would want a wife like that?”

  “Plenty of men want a wife with some spirit in her, little sister,” Will said, affectionately flickin
g one cheek. “You may be surprised.”

  “Perhaps, but not these high-born southern men. They won’t want a mouthy Yorkshire lass.”

  She laughed, and Will laughed too, although he shook his head at her. “We shall see. Marriage comes to all of us in the end, it seems to me.”

  ~~~~~

  The road south was not as dire as Julia had imagined. Will and the new Mama had managed it all between them, planning the route, sending most of their luggage on ahead, so that they travelled in easy stages, with horses and meals and overnight stays all arranged in advance. There were three carriages, all of them excessively comfortable, and there were hot bricks for their feet, fur-lined wraps to snuggle into and baskets of dainty comestibles to cater for the slightest pangs of hunger.

  Only the weather was a concern, but they were fortunate that the week they had chosen turned out to be the mildest January anyone could remember. Every time they changed horses, the head ostler or the innkeeper or the cook would wander over to them to express astonishment at their travelling at all so early in the year, but wasn’t it remarkable how benign the weather was? Apart from an occasional shower of icy rain, they completed the journey to Hertfordshire with nothing at all to trouble them.

  The only element of travelling that drove Julia to distraction was sitting still for hours on end. She shared the smaller carriage with the new Mama, Pa and Rosie, and although it was beautifully appointed and could not be more comfortable, it was still the greatest trial to a taller-than-average girl who was not accustomed to sitting in one attitude for more than five minutes at a time. If Julia sat at all, she liked to stretch her long legs out and be easy, but there was no stretching anything in the carriage without bumping into a leg or a brick or the hamper.

  As if that were not enough of a trial, there was the talking. Rosie was no bother at all, for she said nothing, merely gazing wide-eyed out of the window as the miles rolled past, and Mama said very little. But Pa had Carey’s Itinerary with him, and he insisted on reading pieces from it for every place they passed through. No hamlet was beneath notice, for often there was a Norman bell tower or unusual spire to the church, and if that failed, there was bound to be a manor house or a court or an abbey nearby to be described and wondered at. And all the while, Julia was trying not to fidget and wishing she could leave the carriage behind, no matter how comfortable, and stride out across the winter-bare fields and under the leafless trees and stretch her legs. The only relief she obtained was the short period after they halted for the night, when there would be an hour, perhaps, before dinner and she could rush away into the dusk, with Will and Johnny to bear her company, and make sure she never got lost.

  On the fifth and final day of their journey, they were permitted to sleep late and enjoy a leisurely breakfast. They were now only an hour or so away from Chadwell Park, and had notified the servants that they would be there at noon, so there was no great need for a swift departure. As if to bless their arrival in Hertfordshire, the sun shone from a cloudless sky as they turned out of the inn yard. Julia gazed about her with satisfaction. The countryside was not, to her eyes, particularly interesting at this season, and the flat terrain was not enticing, but surely there would be good walking to be had, even within the grounds of their own estate?

  They passed through the modest village of Danes Green, which boasted a handful of nondescript cottages and a rather fine church, and then there was a great stone arch and ironwork gates thrown wide, and a little line of people bobbing up and down outside the lodge as they turned in, and a long curving drive.

  Mama was all a-flutter, for this was her lodge and her drive and her avenue of stately beeches, and when glimpses could be seen through the trees, her house, too, and a lake and a wide vista of empty grounds just begging to be explored. Pa was his usual smiling self, pleased that Mama was excited, but not himself overwhelmed. Rosie’s eyes were huge. Poor Rosie! Julia sincerely pitied her, for everyone expected her to marry well, and hoist the whole family a notch or two up the ladder of societal success. What a burden to lay on so gentle a person. Julia was grateful that there could be no possibility of such expectations as far as she was concerned. If she were to marry at all, it would be to the vast astonishment of all who knew her.

  The carriage rumbled through more formal gardens and then to the house itself. It was huge, that was Julia’s first thought. Even though she had seen the plans and the sketches of the front elevation, yet the edifice rose majestically above them, strong and solid and overpoweringly massive, with two wings to either side making it enormously wide.

  As they drew up at the foot of the twin sets of steps that led up to the front door, a number of servants streamed out of the house to take up station there. On the steps to the left were the indoor servants, bewigged manservants in livery and maids in neat, plain gowns and aprons, and on the right, the grooms and gardeners, she presumed. Two servants came down to the carriage door, a superior looking manservant who was presumably the butler and a woman wearing the chatelaine of a housekeeper.

  Julia was about to descend as soon as the carriage door opened, but Mama’s hand on her arm held her back.

  “In the proper order, dear,” she said, smiling.

  Oh, yes, everything must be done in the proper order now. Julia had almost forgotten that the change in their circumstances changed everything else. They were landed gentry now, and all must be done in the appropriate manner. Whatever that was.

  Pa descended first, and then gave his hand to Mama. Then Rosie, and then Julia. Last, as befitted her lowly status. Of course, the second carriage had disgorged its occupants at once, all higgledy-piggledy, Angie exclaiming at the size of the house, the boys pretending they were not in the least overawed by it, Bella huddled against Miss Crabtree, Aunt Madge sour-faced, as usual. One would imagine that a mansion would at least be something she could not complain about, for it could hardly be too small or too ill-appointed or too inconvenient, being so modern. But no, she could always find something about it to despise, no doubt.

  Pa and Mama went past the line of indoor servants slowly, so that each could be named and respond with an appropriately servile curtsy or bow. Then nothing would do for Mama but she must be introduced to all the outdoor servants, too. As if she would remember the names of the third under-gardener, or the boy who swept out the stables! It was ridiculous. But she seemed to think it necessary, and Pa watched her in affectionate complacency.

  Bored, Julia turned away from the house to look at the grounds. The remains of a fine frost lay on shaded parts still, and icy cobwebs on the shrubbery shimmered like diamonds in the still air. Beyond the formal grounds, all dismal dark greenery, trimmed to rigid shapes, there was the open park she had been promised, the grass sloping gently up to a line of trees, interrupted by a short stretch of wall and what looked like a gate set into it.

  That gate called powerfully to Julia. A gate was a promise of something beyond, something unknown but enticing.

  “May I go for a walk?” she cried out. Everyone turned to look at her. “Please? Just to stretch my legs.”

  “But you will want to see the house and choose your own room,” Mama said with a small frown creasing her smooth brow. “Surely tomorrow—”

  “I don’t care about the room! Rosie may choose for me… or you, if you wish. I’ve been confined to the carriage for days now, and I shall run mad if I don’t walk somewhere.”

  “Perhaps if Will or Johnny—”

  “We have to see to the stables,” Will said.

  “Let her go.” That was Pa, ever the peacemaker. “She’ll be the better for some exercise. I only wish I could go with her.”

  “But the ways here are unfamiliar,” Mama said. “What if she were to lose her way?”

  “I shall only walk up to that gate there,” Julia said. “You will be able to see me from the house at every moment. I shall not go further than that, I promise. Oh please may I go?”

  Pa looked at Mama, one eyebrow raised. She laugh
ed, and said, “Oh, very well then, Julia. There will be nothing but bustle for an hour or two yet, but do not stay out long in this cold weather.”

  “I won’t,” Julia cried, turning away with a wave almost before the words were out of her mouth.

  She was free at last! With eager steps she sped along a gravel path between beds brown and bare at this season, balls of drab green standing forlornly at the corners, and then a rose garden, already pruned almost to the ground, and finally the lawn. Another path wound down to a narrow part of the lake, spanned by an arched stone bridge, and then up, up, up to the woods and the intriguing gate. What would be beyond it? A dark, mysterious forest? A river… a vast uncrossable lake… wild moorland, filled with curlews and pipits… mountains, even? No, probably no mountains. They were a very long way from anything that might properly be called by that name. But hills… there might be hills.

  It was farmland. At first, her spirits plummeted, for what could be duller than cows and bare grain fields? But when she looked again, she saw more, a great deal more. There was a river, now that she looked more closely. She could catch glints between the leafless branches of a line of trees some distance below her which could only be water. Another line of trees probably marked a road, for it led to a small hamlet, the smoke rising vertically from several cottages.

  Nearer at hand, a tiny cottage peeped through an untidy hedge. From it, a man in rough clothing emerged and walked steadily up the slope towards her, a gun in one hand and a tidy haul of game dangling from his belt. The gamekeeper! One of the estate workers, one of their own people. Someone who would not disdain the newcomers from the north, the mercer and his family, because his livelihood depended on them.

  She waved cheerily to him. He looked up, saw her and smiled. He had a kind face, she thought. A friendly face. She clambered onto the gate and waited for her first new friend to reach her.