There! said Charles as she disappeared from sight. Did you hear that? She is going to old Henry Capitains and no one with an ounce of good breeding would be going there. She is some waif he has picked up and invited to visit him. You could save her from a fate worse than death. He gave a cracked laugh when he realised what he had said. Well, a short life but a merry one, eh?
It is not a matter for jest.
I am not jesting.
We dont know anything about her.
We dont need to know anything, apart from the fact that she is not already married, because that would certainly be an insurmountable obstacle.
Roland laughed harshly. And what about Susan?
What about her? She is miles away in Derbyshire and she wont come here in the middle of winter, considering the state of the roads and the fact that you have not yet issued the invitation. He paused, looking at Roland with his head on one side. Have you?
No, but are you suggesting I should keep news of my marriage a secret from the woman I love?
Thats up to you, old fellow. You arent exactly betrothed, are you? You have not yet offered for her?
No, but I believe there is an understanding
What good is an understanding to a young lady who has her heart set on a wedding-ring, not to mention babies? If my estimate of the fair sex is correct, she will not wait forever, so why not do something to hasten the day?
Roland had polished off the best part of two bottles of claret or he would never have embarked on such a conversation, let alone taken it seriously. But he was in a fix and it seemed like a way out. If he married a complete stranger, someone he found not in the least attractive, as different from Susan as chalk from cheese, perhaps it would work. And where did I meet this new bride of mine? he asked. I can hardly tell Grandmama I picked her up in an inn.
Youve just come back from London, havent you? Youve been away for weeks on business. You were introduced by Lady Gordon at one of her soirées, or something of that sort. You brought her home with you.
Now? Roland was astounded. You mean me to take her home now?
No, tell the Dowager you left the young lady at the inn while you went on ahead to break the news to her. By the time you come back I shall have made the acquaintance of the woman in question.
You assume she will agree.
Well, yes, there is that, Charles conceded. But its worth a try. In any case, it does not have to be this young lady; we can find others. You could advertise.
Roland laughed, but it was a cracked sound and not in the least mirthful. "Wanted, a wife for a year. Must be of mean appearance and desperate, not to say a little mad." They will flock to answer it.
Have you got a better idea? Charles demanded, miffed. Apart from remaining a single man for the rest of your days?
Forget it, Roland said, rising unsteadily and picking up his tricorne hat. I wish I had never told you. Im going home. Are you coming?
No, Ill stay here for the night and come on in the morning.
Roland looked at him suspiciously. What are you going to do?
Nothing, my dear fellow. Simply ask a few questions, see how the land lies.
I wish you would not.
It cant do any harm, can it? I will not commit you to anything.
I should hope not, Roland said fervently. What shall I tell Kate?
Charles looked up in surprise. She is not expecting me tonight, is she?
How do I know? Roland was beginning to feel irritable. He supposed it was his friends unfailing good humour which irked him, his ability to find something to smile at even in the worst situations, but it was unfeeling of him to make a joke of Rolands predicament. You are the one who writes to my sister, not I. What did you tell her?
That I would see her before the week was out. This is only Thursday. Tell her you saw me in London and that I was just going to Tattersalls to buy a horse. Thats true, because you did. Tell her I will be with her tomorrow. Send your curricle in for me.
Very well, but I want your promise that you will not propose to the little kitten on my behalf.
As if I would. Charles laughed. You can do your own proposing.
Never. I bid you goodnight. With that, he clapped his hat on his head and left the room to go to the stables, where he confidently expected that an ostler would have changed the horses on his travelling carriage.
Charles sat on while the room he asked for was prepared. A faint smile played around his lips. Roland would never have his hearts desire if someone didnt take him in hand.
Margaret opened her eyes to bright sunshine, and hurried to the window. It looked out on to the market, which was dominated by the great cathedral. The street was muddy and unpaved and was busy with carts loaded with produce, carriages, farmers on horseback, and men herding cattle and sheep to the pens from which they would be sold. Men and women hurried past and a coach rolled down the street and under the archway below her window. Perhaps when it had changed its horses it would be going on, and pass somewhere near Winterford. She washed and dressed and went downstairs.
The coffee-room was full, as it had been the previous night, and the waiters were hurrying to and fro serving breakfast. She hurried over to the one she had spoken to the previous night. The coach that just came in. Does it go anywhere near Winterford?
He turned from serving a gentleman with ham and eggs, and smiled thinly. No, nothing goes out there; theres nothing to go for. Youll have to hire privately or walk-
Excuse me, did you say Winterford? the man he was serving interrupted.
Margaret turned to him, a smile on her lips which faded when she realised it was one of the men who had been surveying her so openly the evening before. Yes, she said coolly, to let him know she deplored his insolence.
I am going there myself. I could take you.
We do not know each other, sir.
I beg your pardon. Let me introduce myself. I am Charles Mellison, of Mellison Hall in Huntingdonshire. You may have heard of the family.
I have not.
He smiled. Ours is an old family with the very best of antecedents, I assure you. I am going to Winterford Manor, the country home of Lord Pargeter. You and your maid will be quite safe in my company, I promise.
I have no maid, she said, and then wished she had not admitted it when she saw a little gleam of triumph in his eye. But that does not mean I will allow myself to be taken up by a perfect stranger.
No, of course not, he said. I only thought I could help you out of a difficulty. Lady Pargeter would not like to think a guest of hers had been left to make her own way.
I am not a guest of hers.
No? Then I do beg your pardon.
I am going to Sedge House. Mr Henry Capitain is my great-uncle.
But the Capitains and the Pargeters have known each other for centuries! he exclaimed, as if that made everything right. You must allow me to escort you
Well She hesitated. Was she in a position to look a gift-horse in the mouth?
Have you broken your fast? he asked suddenly. Do join me. Waiter, set another cover at once.
Have you broken your fast? he asked suddenly. Do join me. Waiter, set another cover at once.
He would not accept no for an answer. As they breakfasted, he drew her out, little by little, and by the time the meal was finished he knew almost all there was to know about her, and she had relaxed. It seemed perfectly proper to allow him to escort her to Winterford in the curricle which appeared as if by magic when they went outside.
There had been a sharp frost overnight, and the hedges and trees as they left the town were covered in sparkling rime. In no time, they seemed to have left these and all other signs of civilisation behind them and were on an uneven lane, going straight as a die, towards a flat expanse of nothingness which stretched for miles, with hardly a hillock to be seen. There were no trees either, except a few frosted willows and alders growing along the banks of the ditches. There were a great many of these dykes, where geese and ducks swam on gaps in the ice. Strange windmills with buckets, instead of paddles, were dotted about the landscape, their sails hardly turning in the windless air. But the sky was magnificent, layer upon layer of dark cloud rising from a horizon that was so wide, it seemed to take on the curve of the earth itself. Each cloud was streaked by fire, red and mauve and awesome. Margaret found herself admiring it at the same time as it frightened her. She felt tiny and insignificant.
Most of this land was drained in the last century, Charles told her. All but a few acres are owned by the Pargeters. Lord Pargeter is a good man, a fine fellow all round.
What of Sedge House?
That is not exactly in Winterford, but two or three miles further on. Have you not been there before?
Never.
Its a bleak place, right on the edge of the unreclaimed fen, and Henry Capitain has done nothing to improve it. I doubt you will like living there.
I have no choice.
Everyone has a choice, he said softly, wondering whether to broach the subject of Roland and his dilemma. You could marry.
One day perhaps, she said with a sigh. At the moment I cannot bring myself to think of it. She smiled. Are you married, Master Mellison?
I am betrothed to Lord Pargeters sister. We hope to marry soon. His lordship is unmarried, though his grandmother has been pressing him to find a wife for some time. He has to secure the lineage, you understand.
Does he not wish to marry?
Oh, yes, but he cannot find anyone prepared to live in this out-of-the-way place. But whoever becomes Lady Pargeter would have to, you see, at least three-quarters of the year. Roland is almost resigned to never marrying. He hoped his friend would forgive him the half-truth.
I am sorry, she murmured politely.
I shall introduce you to him. He turned to her as if suddenly thinking of it. Ill wager you would deal well together.
I thought the days of matchmakers were gone, she said, smiling and revealing a twinkle in her eye and a dimple at the side of her mouth he had not noticed before; it gave him a twinge of conscience.
Sometimes it is necessary. Shall we stop at Winterford Manor, so that you may make his acquaintance?
No, thank you, she said firmly. I am flattered that you should think me worthy, but we are strangers and I am in mourning. Making calls will have to wait until I have settled down.
He sighed and turned the curricle away from the village they had been approaching and down a narrow rutted track which ran alongside a high bank, on the other side of which was a wide ribbon of water which was too straight to be a river. Halfway along it was one of the strange windmills she had noticed before.
What are those for? she asked, pointing.
The land round here is often flooded in winter. The windmills take the water off the fields in the buckets and tip it into the dykes.
How clever.
They rode on in silence, Charles wondering how he could further Rolands cause without frightening her away, and Margaret apprehensive of what she would find at the end of her journey,
She realised he was making for a speck on the horizon which, as they drew nearer, was revealed as a house. It was a big square brick building which stood almost abutting the lane. On its other side, an overgrown lawn went down to a boat-house and a tiny jetty where a rowing-boat was moored in the water of the fen. The road went no further.
Do you want me to wait? he asked as he pulled the horses up at the door.
No, thank you. I am grateful for your trouble, but I shall manage now. She did not want a witness to her first encounter with her great-uncle and was glad he took her at her word.
Very well. But if you change your mind about meeting his lordship, do not hesitate to let me know.
As soon as she had alighted he turned the vehicle round and was soon bowling away along the flat road, back to Winterford. She sighed and turned to knock on the thick oak door.
She was taken completely aback when it was opened by a girl with a white-painted face, full red lips and several patches. She wore a pink satin open gown whose laces strained across her bosom, and a petticoat of red silk, beneath which Margaret could see white stockings and red high-heeled shoes. She stared at Margaret. Well, youre a little out of the ordinary, I must say.
I beg your pardon?
Different, I mean. You look as if you couldnt say boo to a goose.
Then my looks belie me, Margaret retorted, putting her chin in the air. Who did the hussy think she was? Is Master Capitain at home? I wish to speak to him.
Henry! the girl yelled over her shoulder. Come on out here and see whats turned up.
There was a shuffling noise behind her and a man pushed past her to stare at Margaret with myopic eyes. He wore white small-clothes which were stained with wine or tea, or something of the sort, and a shirt which was opened almost to the waist, revealing an expanse of flabby white flesh. His legs were clad in dirty white stockings but he wore no shoes. He had discarded his wig and his thin white hair stood up at all angles round his head. He had about six chins which wobbled down into a thick neck. Who are you? he demanded. Did I ask you to come?
No, but I wrote to you. Did you not receive my letter? I am Margaret Donnington.
Margaret who?
She countered with a question of her own. Are you Master Capitain?
Yes, of course I am. Who else would I be? And I dont remember any letter.
I am your great-niece. I am Felicitys daughter.
Great Jehosophat! I thought she was dead.
Margaret gulped hard to take control of herself, though she felt like fleeing back down the road. She is dead. She died two weeks ago. She paused, but he seemed unable to take in what she was saying. Before she died, she told me to come to you.
Why, for Gods sake? We aint seen each other in He racked his brain to remember. It must be nigh on thirty years. I did hear she had married. What did you say your name was?
Margaret Donnington.
How did you arrive here?
I came by stage to Ely and then a gentleman going to Winterford Manor brought me on.
Pargeter! There was no attempt to disguise the contempt in his voice.
No, it was one of his guests. She paused, waiting, then added. Are you not going to invite me in?