Mary Nichols - The Westmere Legacy

‘No, should I have?’

‘He was sent for to go home. His servant said the labourers were threatening to pull his barn down and wreck his house.’

‘No, I did not see him. But he is not the only one to suffer—the mob I saw had been on the rampage for some time, most of ’em pot valiant. It will take the militia to make them return to their homes.’

‘Oh, dear, I hope there will no blood shed,’ she said. ‘The poor have been sorely tried, what with the price of flour and bread rising so high and wages so low.’

‘Your sympathy does you credit, Bella,’ Edward said. ‘But it does not give them the right to take the law into their own hands. Destroying the property of those they depend on will not serve.’

‘Did you demand their names?’ the Earl asked Robert. ‘I can send for the constable to have them taken up and charged.’

‘No, I did not. It is unlikely they would have furnished them if I had.’ He put down his cup and stood up. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I am devilish hungry and as Edward has been so obliging as to replace the contents of my purse, I will repair to the local hostelry and bespeak me a meal.’

‘Oh, dear, how thoughtless of me,’ Bella said. ‘Robert, please, be seated again and I will ask Cook to find something for you…’

‘No need, my dear, no need at all. I shall do very well at the tavern.’

‘But do you not wish to know why his lordship has called us all together?’ Louis asked.

‘Oh, as to that, Edward has acquainted me with the facts of the matter. I am sorry to say it, but I think the whole thing is a fudge and I wish I had saved myself the expense of the journey to hear it. I might still be in possession of my purse. And this…’ He pointed to his eye. ‘This might be its proper size and colour.’

Bella was delighted by his answer and found herself smiling. He swept her an elegant leg and then moved forward to take her hand and raise it to his lips. His brown eyes, looking into hers above the hand he held, were full of merriment. She was glad someone could find humour in the situation. ‘My apologies, dear Bella. I do not mean to disparage you, but you must see that any marriage based on coercion will not serve. Besides, however much I might wish to, I cannot enter a contest against my brother. He has a right, I do not.’

‘Right!’ Louis exploded furiously. ‘If anyone has a right—’

‘Oh, please, do not quarrel,’ Bella intervened. ‘I cannot bear it. Grandpapa, please say something…’

He simply smiled and rang for Sylvester to help him to his room. As soon as he had gone Elizabeth bade Louis follow her upstairs to see if the servants had obeyed their instructions to change their rooms and, no doubt, to talk about what they would do next, leaving Bella facing Edward and Robert. She looked from one to the other in despair.

‘I am so sorry,’ she said. ‘This is none of my doing. I cannot think what has got into Grandfather…’

‘Touched in the attic,’ Robert said. ‘Must be. Not fair on you, not fair at all. Edward thinks so, too, don’t you, Teddy?’

Thus appealed to, his brother agreed wholeheartedly. ‘If he is thinking of your future, as he says he is, then he could easily secure that with an annuity or a good dowry.’

‘But don’t you see?’ she cried. ‘My dowry is to be Westmere.’

‘I am not sure he can legally do it,’ Edward said.

‘Oh, how I wish Papa were still alive,’ she said. ‘There would be no argument and none of this would be happening.’

‘If it is any comfort, you have our support,’ Robert said. ‘I promise you neither of us will offer for you.’

It was all too much and she fled to her room, where she flung herself across the bed and sobbed. How could her grandfather be so cruel? How could Robert think it would give her comfort to know that he would not offer for her? He still saw her as the young cousin he had sometimes condescended to amuse as a child, the little girl he had taught to ride and fish when he had visited Westmere on his summer vacation from Cambridge. But as her grandfather had pointed out, she had gown up and was now at a marriageable age. Oh, how she wished Miss Battersby would come home. She needed her.

Ellen Battersby was a little dotty, given to romantic notions and great sighings over the novels she read, and would insist on using their characters as examples of how to behave or not to behave. Bella humoured her, which was more than the Earl did. He was often so outspoken as to be rude to her and consequently the poor woman avoided his presence as much as possible. Perhaps that was why she had stayed away so long. But Bella needed her.

If Miss Battersby could not come home, then she would go to her and seek her out. It was only a short ride to Downham Market, and if no other remedy for her troubles presented itself, then she would stay away, find a way to earn her own living. She rose and changed into her riding habit. She did not want to meet any others of the household for they would surely want to know where she was going, so she carried her boots in her hand and crept along the upper gallery towards the back stairs.

It was gloomy and smelled damp in this unused part of the house, and she shivered a little, as if the ghosts of previous Huntleys were following her progress. She was glad when she found the small door at the back of the oldest part of the building and slipped out into the fresh air.

Bella stopped to put on her boots, gathered up her skirts in her hand and sped to the stables. The stable boys were all busy elsewhere and the head groom was, no doubt, sleeping off his dinner in the room above. She spoke quietly to Misty to stop her snickering while she saddled her, then she led the mare out and, mounting from the block by the stable door, rode down the drive and out onto the road, where she turned towards Downham Market.

Absorbed by her own problems she had not given a thought to the riots or whether she might be riding into danger, but it became apparent the minute she entered the small hamlet of Eastmere, which was on the road to Downham Market. A crowd of angry men and women were marching down the street, carrying pitchforks and clubs. Two of them held a banner. ‘Bread or blood,’ it said in crude black letters.

She reined in and pulled Misty to one side to allow them to pass, but there were so many and they were so angry. They pushed and shoved and frightened the mare so much she snorted and pranced and was in danger of injuring those nearest to her. Her rider hauled hard on the reins but the horse, objecting to this unaccustomed harsh treatment, reared up so violently that Bella was thrown down among the trampling feet.

The first person she saw when she opened her eyes was Robert. He was kneeling beside her and she had her head in his lap. ‘Thank the good Lord,’ he said. ‘I thought you were done for…’

‘Misty threw me…’

‘I know, it was lucky I saw it happen, though I could hardly believe my eyes. After what happened this morning, how could you be such a ninny as to ride out alone?’

‘I am not a ninny.’ Her hat had fallen off and her hair had come down. She was acutely conscious of the picture she must present and struggled to sit up but, overcome by dizziness, she collapsed back into his arms.

He looked down at her, torn between scolding her and comforting her. ‘Are you hurt? Any bones broken?’

It was strange how warm and comforting his arms were and how safe she felt, even though the tumult still raged about them and they were in grave danger of being trampled underfoot. ‘No, I do not think so. My head aches.’

Robert put his hand gently behind her head. ‘I am not surprised. There is a bump the size of an egg here and it’s bleeding.’ He looked about him, wondering how to get her safely away. The furious fenmen were out of control and he did not think it would serve to appeal to their better nature, especially if they recognised him. The encounter he had had with them earlier that day had been enough to convince him they meant business.