Friday, 27 October 2017

Talisman Chapter 17

Chapter 17 Before dinner that evening, Alys played the piano for her father and Lord Askham. It was one of the things any well-bred girl was expected to be able to do. Her father had had the fires lit: despite the warmth of the day, he felt the chill when the sun set, after his time in India. Alys’s father had brought back presents for her. Some of them were following with the heavy luggage, which would take a while to get to Ship House from the port, but the emerald earrings and necklace, he had brought with him in the rather swifter carriage that had carried him and Lord Askham to the house.
“Wear then tonight,” he had said, and told her maid to choose a gown that would set them off to the best advantage. Alys was still uneasy, though. Lord Askham talked to her, and she didn’t like it. It was hard to define exactly what was unsettling about the man, for he told no warm stories, such as would bring a blush to a maiden’s cheek. But behind everything he said, behind the tales he told, there was an element of….what? Alys didn’t recognise it, but I did. I had heard it in the voices, seen it in the eyes and face of Lissa’s cousins. It was cruelty. This was a man who enjoyed the pain of others. Alys’s uncle joined them, and her father smiled affectionately at his brother. And Alys was relieved too: her uncle would always stand her friend. The next two weeks were an odd mixture of routine and changes. Sir William did not mention Peter’s letter, and Alys did not bring the subject up. She could tell that her father would not like to be rushed into considering the proposal, and she left him in peace. Although she was such an energetic and restless girl, she knew how to wait, and plan. From time to time, a heavily laden cart would arrive, bearing yet more things from Sir William’s travels.
Some days Alys would be expected to entertain Sir William and Lord Askham, or to accompany them on rides round the countryside. The stables were full with horses, and many of the house ones had to be stabled in the village. Sir William declared that he would have to extend the stables now that he was home. Other days, Sir William and Lord Askham would be out all day, and Alys’s time would be her own again.
At the end of the fortnight, Sir William called Alys into his study.
“You have not asked me how my business prospered in India.”
“I beg your pardon, Papa. I had feared it would not be proper so to do.” “Well, no matter. The truth of it is, I prospered beyond my expectations or dreams. Alys, my daughter, you will one day be a very wealthy woman. And so we must consider your marriage carefully.”
A tiny cold fear stole into her mind.
“You can now look far higher than a mere captain of a regiment of the line.” The colour began to ebb from her cheeks.
“Lord Askham has been very favourably impressed by you.”
“But Papa – I love Peter!” “Enough of these megrims! A girl’s foolish fancy! You have fallen in love with a uniform, I do not doubt. My mind is made up.”
“No, Papa. It is not a foolish fancy.”
“Do you set your will up against mine?” His sudden rage startled and alarmed her. Had he always been like this? “I beg your pardon, Papa.” “Good. Now let me hear no more of this nonsense. Lord Askham will be an excellent match for you. I grant you, he is a little older than you, but you will have an excellent position in society as his wife. And as his first three wives gave him only daughters, if you bear him an heir, your position will be assured for ever.” “Now, I have given you time to think this over, so that when he makes you an offer, you will know the right answer to give.”
And he left the room, leaving Alys alone with her despair. Not to see Peter again! To be married off to Lord Askham! She knew nothing about him, save that he was old, and had already had three wives. And the thought of conceiving a child by him! Alys shuddered. And then she remembered that Miss Reeth, her governess, who had stayed on as Alys’s chaperone when she had emerged from the schoolroom, would probably know more about him. Before coming here, she had been governess in a grand London household. Alys went upstairs to find her. When Alys found Miss Reeth, in the old school room that she now used as a sitting room, she was reading the paper, but put it aside and greeted Alys affectionately. Alys’s heart warmed as she looked down at the woman who had done so much to ease the sorrow of a little girl suddenly without her mother and brothers.
“If I had gone to London with them, I would have caught the typhus too,” Alys thought suddenly. “It was only because I was too young to go.” “Now that your father is back, Alys dear, I will have to find a new situation.” Miss Reeth sighed slightly, and Alys’s heart was moved with pity for her. An idea began to take shape in her head.
“Do you still yearn to open your own school?”
Miss Reeth’s face lit up for a moment.
“Indeed, yes. But I have not yet saved anough to be able to do that. Maybe if my next employer is as generous as your father has been to me…” Her voice tailed off, and she changed the subject.
“You look a little pale, Alys dear. Are you feeling quite well?” “Oh, you know how it is. I have lacked my daily rides these past two days. But today papa and Lord Askham do not require me, so I will ride again, and that will put the roses back into my cheeks.”
“How did your father come to know Lord Askham?”
"One of our connexions – was it James Malaby? No, the other branch: James Bridge-Hebden – who is out in India too, introduced them over a business deal.”
“Well, I hope your father is cautious in dealing with him. His reputation is not of the most unsullied.” Alys looked interested, and as she had hoped, this inspired Miss Reeth to tell her more.
“Mind you, my dear, I believe he is quite scrupulous in business matters. But his private life! His first wife died in childbirth, leaving the daughter behind her. After a decent interval, he married again, and everyone was sorry for him when his second wife had her accident – she fell from the roof of their country house, and it was thought that she must have lost her balance or tripped. She was alone at the time: there was no suggestion of foul play, you understand.
But it was after his third wife, that the gossip started about his second wife’s death.”
Alys looked even more interested, and Miss Reeth carried on.
“She was one of the Winlaton girls. Lively, spirited, beautiful, well-connected – but poor as church mice, and four daughters to marry off! And Lord Askham still had no heir – two daughters by now, but no son. So she was married off to him.” “It was the change in her afterwards, that started the gossip. Little by little, she became cowed, timid, fearful – a meek little mouse of a wife. And she had always been so lively and vivacious. Lord Askham would take her down to his country seat from time to time, and each time they returned, she was less like her former self. There were rumours of screams being heard from the dungeons – but she would never speak against him. It was then, though, that people began to wonder if his second wife had fallen or thrown herself down.” “And what happened to her?”
“She gave him a daughter too. While she was increasing, she seemed a little happier, a little less afraid. But very anxious to bear a son. But after the daughter was born, things seemed worse than ever. Then she caught a severe chill while she was down at their country place. Apparently, she got soaked to the skin one day, and was too long in her wet clothes. It descended to her lungs, and she died soon after.”
Alys was silent and thoughtful. This was not a reassuring picture. What could she do? What could any well-bred girl do? If you were like Miss Reeth, and had neither family nor money, then becoming a governess was your only respectable option. But not one that was open to her. She was still in her father’s care, and would not be permitted to do that. They talked for a while longer, and then Alys ordered her horse to be saddled up, and had the groom accompany her into the village. They rode to the forge, and Alys told the groom to stay with the horses while they were shod. She was going to pay some visits in the village. Actually, she was in search of someone who would help her escape from the marriage that was being planned for her. Her first port of call was the vicarage, but even as she stood at the gate, she realised that this was hopeless. Her father owned the living: if the vicar took her part against her father, then he would lose his job. She couldn’t do that to him and his family. She walked away from the church and vicarage, and into the village proper. The last time I had seen these houses, they had been single story cottages! The village was changing before my eyes. I wondered what it looked like in my time – and wished that I could go and see it. Only the end house in that row was still as I remembered it – except that it was much more dilapidated. Alys’s next thought had been the lawyer’s house. But even as she looked at the brass plate that said Perry, Perry and Amos, she knew that this was hopeless too. She was too young. Her father had control of her until she was twenty-one. I was shocked to realise how little freedom Alys had. She couldn’t get a job, because girls of her class didn’t work outside running a home. She belonged to her father – and it looked as though his ambition was getting the better of him. And she was going to be used to further it. Alys walked on, deep in thought. She passed the doctor’s house – but although he had helped her learn how to dress wounds, he wouldn’t shelter her from her father. She needed a plan, and she needed one fast.
And then the oddest thing happened. Alys began planning what to do next – and I didn’t know what she was thinking! This plan was to be a secret – and I had no access to it either. And as she walked on, I noticed other changes too. I was suddenly less aware of everything around me. It was a bit like watching the scenery on a slightly blurry television, rather than seeing it in real life. She was planning something, steeling herself for something – but what? Alys changed out of her riding habit and into a dress made from some Indian muslin Sir William had brought back as a present for her. The elegant carved screen in the corner of the room had been another gift from him – and she was grateful for it when she took her bath in front of the fire. Flush toilets might have arrived, but proper baths hadn’t really made an appearance yet.
She looked out of the window at the view she had known and loved all her life – but this wouldn’t be her home for much longer. I could feel her sadness at the thought, but it was like feeling through cotton wool. Alys turned away from the view and went downstairs to find her father. “An if it please you, Papa, may I speak with you?” Alys curtsied to her father as she said this. “I have a small favour to ask of you.” “You may ask me a small favour.” His manner was still somewhat reserved with her, but Alys did not allow this to put her off.
“It concerns Miss Reeth. If my situation in life is to change as you wish it to, Papa, I shall not need her as a chaperone. But indeed I am truly grateful to her for all that she has taught me, and the companionship she has given me.”
His expression thawed slightly. “Continue.”
“I know it is her dream to set up a school of her own. And I know she has not enough money to buy a house where she could do that. And she would need help from some man who understood business to do that in any case. Papa, could we make this happen for her?”
And Alys’s eyes filled with tears as she gazed at her father hopefully and longingly. She herself was going to have to say goodbye to the comfort and security that had been Ship House, but there was no reason why Miss Reeth should not have some comfort and security for herself. Sir William looked at his daughter.
“It is true – she has done well by you. You are fluent in French and Italian, you can play the piano well, sing charmingly: I doubt not you have another list of accomplishments as long as my arm. Lord Askham has said he would prefer it if you started your married life with new servants. And I have found nothing in your manners to disgust me – save when you set you will up against mine.”
“Truly, I beg your pardon for that, Papa. It came as such a surprise to me, I spoke before I thought.”
“Well then, we will say no more of it. Now, we must plan what to do next for you, as well as Miss Reeth.” And he embraced her. “Miss Reeth tells me I must be presented before any engagement can be announced. And that it would be more proper to wait a little while until after my presentation, so that I am a little more acquainted with society, and society with me.”
“I agree entirely. I have a great fancy to enter into politics and Lord Askham’s connections will be of much use to me. And the more connections you can make as well, then the more influence I shall gain.”
Alys was distracted from what her father was saying by the rumble of another two heavy wagons approaching the house but I, even through the fogginess that had descended, could sense his naked ambition. I suppose you had to be ambitious, to build up a successful trading venture, as Sir William had, but it wasn’t a pleasant character trait. That evening, Alys walked around the garden. It was almost as if she was saying goodbye to every corner of it. Then she went inside, and packed away in a bandbox all the things she had been collecting for her life with Peter. Sir William was as good as his word – and efficient too! Only four weeks later, Miss Reeth was installed in a house in Bath, ideally suited for transforming into a seminary. The memory of her gratitude and happiness was one of the things sustaining Alys. She was increasingly nervous about the future she was choosing for herself: I could feel that, if not much else. And now her uncle, her father and several of the servants had gone down to London, to arrange for the hire of a house there. Lord Askham had returned to his country house, to make arrangements for Alys’s eventual welcome there. The way he had said that had chilled me to the bone. And she was here at Ship House, and she didn’t know when she’d see it again. And then, that night, everything changed! Suddenly, Alys’s plan became clear to me: she took it out of the secret place she had been hiding it. She wasn’t going to marry Lord Askham, and suffer goodness only knew what at his hands! She was running away to Spain, to find her Peter. No wonder she’d been so nervous about what she was going to do!
She bound her chest tightly (that hurt!) to flatten her figure, and dressed herself in some old riding clothes of her brother’s. They just fitted, and looked out-of-date enough to go with the character she was turning herself into. She cut off her hair, and even trimmed her eyelashes. I had to admire her commitment! Some walnut juice next, and there, standing before the mirror, was a freckle-faced stable lad. Who would be delivering a horse.
But what was going to happen to me? Was I going to end up going to Spain? And then, hard on the heels of that thought, came a new awareness. The guerdon was in the house now! With Alys’s plan out in the open, I could sense things again. But how was I going to get her to look for it? Alys went into her father’s room, now crammed with things from his time abroad, to find some money to take with her. My heart sang with relief, for there, on the chest of drawers, was the guerdon. For only the second time, I pushed hard at Alys’s mind and made her reach out to take it. And I welcomed the familiar darkness that closed over me.

Wednesday, 25 October 2017

Talisman Chapter 16

Chapter 16 “Talisman Malherbe, Talisman Malherbe, when I am safely returned from this war, than we shall be wed.” These were the words echoing through her head as she sat down on a seat in the beautiful gardens. And with the words came the memory of someone’s strong hands holding hers as he said farewell. She was in love! In love and couldn’t sit still either! Next moment she was up again, and walking round a rather lovely rose garden. The roses smelt heavenly, but her thoughts were all about Peter, and how dashing he had looked in his smart green uniform before he left for Spain. Spain? I thought the last time we fought the Spanish was the Armada – but no: even as I thought about it, I knew the answer. This was Napoleon’s armies we were fighting. And Peter Mallerby was a captain in the Rifles. Little Miss Fidget went into the house next and headed for the study, to look at a (much-thumbed) map of Spain.
“Alys, my dear.”
It was her uncle who rose to greet her as she went into the study, and she greeted him with real pleasure.
“Come and play chess with me for a while. It will give you something else to think about!” He was amusedly tolerant of her, and I could tell that these restless moods were nothing new to him.
The study was in the same place as it had been in the 1929 house, but it looked completely different. The panelling wasn’t the same – nowhere near as elaborate – and the walls had rather beautiful painted wall paper on them. The room was cool, elegant and uncluttered. I liked it.
Chinese wallpaper, Alys’s mind told me. And Chinese artefacts on the walls, and Chinese furniture, but her father was in India now, trying his fortunes there. I wanted to see the whole house, and with Alys as restless as this, it wasn’t difficult to persuade her to flit from room to room.
She practised the piano for a while – a funny-looking piano, nothing like Aunt Violet’s grand piano, and nothing like a modern one either. The chairs in here came from China as well – made in China, I thought, amused, like so many things in my life were.
Her thoughts were always about Peter. She had last seen him a year before – he had been fresh from the storming of Badajoz, and disinclined to talk about it. It had been a bloody affair, and the sack of the city afterwards had been horrific.
“But Harry Smith gained a treasure invaluable from it all!” And Peter told Alys and her uncle about the 14 year old Spanish bride Harry found for himself.
“His particular friends – Charlie Beckwith, Charlie Eeles – were all saying that Harry would be lost, and would neglect his duty. But no! Juana glories in his duty, and ever asks him if he has performed it well that day.” The hall floor was marble, laid in an elegant pattern, and there were classical statues there (Greek and Roman: brought back by Alys’s father when he had travelled on the continent) and yet more Chinese things on the wall. Because Chinese was the latest trend – the Prince Regent himself loved the Chinese look. The dining room was more formal. Alys’s memory was full of how Peter had looked as he dined with them before going back to Spain. He had told her more stories of Juana Smith, and of how she was as gallant as any soldier in the regiment. Alys envied her. To be able to be there, with the man she loved: how she wished that she could be too. She fiddled around with the table decorations, moving one or two things and then went upstairs. The upstairs landing ran to an Egyptian theme this time – again, very fashionable. I was beginning to realise that Alys’s father must have torn down most of the old house when he did all this extensive re-modelling. I wondered if it had affected Ship at all. At the very least, it must have seriously limited the amount of energy she could collect.
Wherever the guerdon was, it wasn’t in this house. By now I was – I suppose attuned is the right word – to the guerdons. This time was a happy, peaceful time, even if Alys’s worry about Peter was always at the back of her mind. She lived for the letters he wrote to her uncle, full of news about everyone. He normally told her of Juana’s latest exploits, knowing that she was interested – how her horse had eaten the bed of green wheat she had slept on after the battle of Salamanca; how she and Harry had acquired a father confessor, in the person of the Vicar of Vicalbaro, who had joined them when they retreated from Madrid. The next room Alys checked out was her father’s bedroom. It was a long time since he had been at Ship House, but the housekeeper kept his room aired and ready for him. Alys didn’t really need to check up on her work, and she knew this, but it gave her something to do. Alys had been living here with her uncle (and housekeeper, butler, gardeners, maids, groom, stableboys, cook, kitchen maids and governess) for the last ten years. Since her mother and two brothers had died.
Alys was like me, I realised, an only child. Without a mother, and with an absent father – after his wife’s death, Sir William had thrown himself more and more into his business ventures; first on the continent, and then in China and now in India. He had made a fair amount of money in the process, but that had been no consolation to him. Up on the roof was one of Alys’s favourite places. The wide views excited her, and made her long all the more for adventure. Below here she could see the gardeners, busy in the garden, and the washing that one of the maids had just put out to dry. Once again, she was thinking about Peter and how much she loved him. He was a distant cousin, and they had been acquainted all their lives, but it had only been in the last two years that they had fallen in love. When her father came home, Peter would ask him for her hand in marriage. She was eighteen now, and old enough to marry, but still needed her father’s consent until she was twenty-one. The next day I got another huge surprise! Alys put on a completely different outfit from yesterday’s elegant muslin dress (I had to say, I liked her clothes. And both underwear AND plumbing had been invented. Even if there was still a pot under the bed for use at night), went outside and down to the stables, and there was her horse, saddled and ready for her!!! The groom mounted up when she arrived. Riding! I’d never ridden a horse in my life – nor been so close to one! And it looked a bit big to me. But Alys was so confident, and so fond of her horse too. I thought the ground seemed a long way down, but Alys was just so happy to be on horseback again. And I knew that she was a good rider. Her memories lay around in the corners of her mind – long days out hunting, or time spent just hacking round the countryside. She was, I realised, very fit physically, and naturally energetic. She probably would cope with following her Peter round the battlefields of Spain. It had been a while since Alys had heard from Peter. She had been reduced to re-reading all his old letters, and following the news of the war in the papers, plotting the movements of Wellington’s armies on her map of Spain. I now knew rather more about Spanish geography than I ever had done before. The battle of Vittoria had been fought and won back in June, and Peter had told Alys of the little pug dog Juana had acquired there, but now it was August, and she had not heard from him since then. When her uncle appeared at the door, with a letter in his hand, her first thought was that it was from Peter. But it wasn’t a letter from Peter. Her father was on his way home! Alys’s heart leapt for joy. Peter could write to her father and ask his consent to a betrothal! She knew her father could have no objections. Peter’s birth was as good as her own, and although he wasn’t wealthy, being a second son, neither was he poor. Like herself really. It would be another two months at least before her father was home from India – time and enough to get a letter to Peter and for him to write back. She told her uncle all her plans, her happiness shining out of her eyes. Alys went down to the church, to lay some flowers on her mother’s grave. The stone wall round the churchyard had gone, replaced by some elegant iron railings – and the other thing I noticed was how much fuller the graveyard was. Just for a moment, Alys imagined herself on her wedding day, coming down the aisle. Only she would be on Peter’s arm. She shook her head and pulled herself back to reality. Who knew how much longer the war was going to last? Alys wanted to be with Peter: his stories of Juana Smith had inspired her. She would have to prove that she could cope with the same difficulties and hardships. She had a lot to learn yet. Next stop, the doctor’s house. The weeks went past. Alys had used her time well and thoroughly. I was impressed by her – she was so determined and so sure of what she wanted. She had gone to the doctor and persuaded him to teach her what I would call basic first aid. And it hadn’t been pretty either, but she’d overcome her squeamishness and applied herself. Unknown to the servants, she’d started sleeping on the floor, to accustom herself to a rougher life. And she’d gathered together a collection of useful objects – a tin kettle that would boil fast, bandages and laudanum, basilicum powder. Peter had written to her father, and the letter was here, waiting for him. Her happiness was surely within her grasp.
Alys was practising the piano – a rather dull Haydn sonata – when she heard the carriage turning up the drive. Her father was home! She hadn’t seen him for ten years, but she didn’t have to worry about how to greet him. Relationships were more formal then, and there was a correct way to greet him. Their feelings for each other didn’t matter like they did nowadays. I did think that made things a bit simpler. Alys curtsied to her father and said all the proper things. He looked older and browner than he had when she had last seen him, but he seemed as full of vitality as ever. I could see where she got her restless energy from. He’d brought someone with him – an older man, dressed in the fashion of an older time, as the elderly so often did.
“Lord Askham, may I present my daughter, Miss Malherbe, to you?” Lord Askham looked her over, as if she was so much merchandise on offer. I knew this look. I had seen it in Bob’s eyes when he had looked at me outside school. And in Brett’s eyes as well. Alys wasn’t exactly happy with it either.