Mary Brendan - Mr. Trelawney's Proposal

Martha fetched a stone jug from the dark pantry and set about filling two glasses with aromatic lemonade. Rebecca smiled her thanks, determined not to let this afternoon’s humiliating episode spoil her pleasure at being home. Consciously recalling the incident allowed raven hair and earthy dark eyes to once more dominate her thoughts, but only momentarily before she determinedly banished them.

Luke Trelawney disturbed her by fascinating her far too much. But he had now gone and she would never again see him or his brother Ross. The strange bittersweet pang tightening her chest at that certainty made her fingers instinctively seek the large silver locket she wore. She could feel its warm, solid shape beneath her cotton dress. Her fingers smoothed its oval silhouette as she held on to the dear memory of David, her mourned fiancé.

‘I knew you’d be wanting some lemonade. I made that fresh this morning.’ Martha broke into her wistful reverie, arms crossing contentedly as she watched the two young women draining their tumblers. ‘I knew you’d be along and hot and thirsty,’ she emphasised with a wag of the head. ‘Mind you,’ she cautioned, rolling her sleeves back to her elbows before expertly pummelling the dough on the table. ‘Mind you…’ she repeated for good measure ‘…Gregory reckons that rain is on the way at last and you know he’s rarely wrong.’ Her head bobbed again as deft hands rolled the pastry into a ball. ‘His legs have been playing up bad again…a sure sign o’ wet on the way…biscuits are nearly done,’ she tacked incongrously on the end. ‘I can smell them coming along nicely.’ She smiled at Lucy. ‘I reckon a healthy young lady like you can polish off quite a few before her dinner.’

Lucy nodded, settling expectantly back into her chair like a biddable child. Watching her, Rebecca wondered how she could veer so rapidly between wanton sophistication and childlike innocence. But if what Gregory predicted was true and rain was on its way, she had pressing matters to attend to. She replaced her tumbler on the table.

‘Has John fixed the roof while I’ve been away, Martha?’ she enquired anxiously, remembering Robin Ramsden’s promise that he would send his young carpenter to repair some summer storm damage.

‘No…we’ve seen not hide nor hair of that young man. Gregory was going to attempt it hisself…but his affliction in the knees meant he could barely rise up three rungs of the ladder.’

‘Is Lord Ramsden returned yet from Bath?’ Rebecca quickly interrogated.

‘Well, he wasn’t at the manor five days ago when Gregory fetched the provisions but Miles was expecting him at any time. I reckon he must be at home now. If you chase that John up he’ll be over and fix that roof quick as can be before his lordship finds out he’s been idling again while he was away.’

‘How many staff remain?’ Luke asked the sombrely dressed elderly man standing stiff and quiet behind him, as he idly surveyed the weed-strewn gravel driveway. The chippings were piled high at the perimeter of the circular carriage sweep, testament to how long it had been since it was tended or raked. Numerous coach wheels were quite visibly imprinted in the dusty grit.

Both dark hands were raised, bracing against the framework of the large casement window he stood by. He gazed out, far into the wooded distance, his mind still deep in that quiet sanctuary with a girl with turquoise eyes.

‘Eight,’ came the terse response from behind.

Luke’s eyes narrowed, his jaw setting as he recognised the barely concealed insolence in the elderly butler’s tone. He swung away from the large square-paned window and faced him across the mellow yew desk.

Edward Miles must have been seventy if he was a day, and in a way Luke could understand his belligerence. What he could not comprehend was the man’s stupidity. Had he any sense at all, he would take great pains to appear pleasant and obliging. His livelihood was now at great risk. For an aged butler of three score years and ten, employment was scarce. Employment without a reference would be impossible, as would keeping a roof over his sparsely covered head in his twilight years.

Luke knew he was tired, he knew he was thirsty but mostly, he knew, today he had been frustrated and that irritated him. Meeting the first woman in an age who had tried to rid herself of his presence at the earliest opportunity was quite a novelty and one he now realised he could have done without. Rejection came hard. And the more he dwelt on it, the more he knew it was ridiculous to allow it to matter. He forced himself to concentrate on Edward Miles. A rheumy-eyed gaze challenged him unwaveringly.

‘Is there some brandy about this place?’ Luke demanded testily, determining to leave matters for an hour or so whilst Ross and he refreshed themselves. They had been travelling solidly for almost two days with barely an overnight stop.

A slow, satisfied shake of the head met this request.

‘Some wine of some sort?’ Luke persisted, his patience with the butler’s aloof attitude nearly at an end.

‘Judith might have made some lemonade,’ the old man advised dolefully. ‘I can ascertain, if you wish.’

Luke stared at him, wondering if he was being deliberately facetious. But Edward Miles returned his black-eyed stare phlegmatically.

‘Fine,’ Luke agreed, knowing it wasn’t fine at all, and wondering how he was going to break the news to Ross. And where the hell was Ross? Since they had arrived in the village of Westbrook an hour ago he had been off exploring. Luke allowed himself a rueful smile; at times his twenty-five-year-old brother was a fitting playmate for his young nephew of five. Thinking of that little lad brought Tristan to mind. His brother Tristan had his own wife and family to look after and couldn’t be left to cope alone for too long, sensible and dependable as he was. He needed to deal speedily with this matter and set on the road home to Cornwall

‘I’ll meet with the staff in the main hallway in an hour. Assemble them there at three o’clock…and bring some sort of refreshment to this study, if you please,’ Luke dictated steadily to Miles. The elderly man gave a creaky, insolent bow and quit the wood-panelled study with Luke close on his heels.

Miles ambled slowly towards the kitchens on stiff joints. He slid a recalcitrant glower up at Luke’s handsome face as he passed him with one long, easy pace.

Luke descended the stone steps and strode around the side of the house towards the outbuildings, hoping that Ross’s lengthy absence didn’t mean he’d found a distracting servant girl to seduce. The notion made the throbbing in his own loins increase, and he cursed as he pushed open the barn door and walked in. He wished to God he’d never seen her. If they’d stayed on the main track instead of seeking shelter from the sun in those woods, he damned well never would have. Since the moment she had spun, dripping, to face him in that pond, he had been uncomfortably aware of the impact she’d had on him.

‘Mr Trelawney!’ Rebecca breathed out the name in utter astonishment as she shielded her eyes from the dusty sunlight streaming in through the open barn door.

They stared at each other in stunned silence for a moment before Luke removed his hand from the planked door and it swung shut, obliterating most of the light. He approached Rebecca slowly, cautiously, sure she must be a tormenting figment of his lustful imagination. Sun streaking in through windows set high in the barn wall behind him burnished her honey hair with golden tints and made her squint those beautiful eyes. She stepped back, re-positioning herself close to stacked hay bales, so she had an unimpeded view of him.

‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded, but with an ingenuous, welcoming smile. It was impossible for her to hide her pleasure at seeing him again. She had believed him to be long gone from the neighbourhood. ‘Oh, no! Did Williams catch you trespassing after all?’ she softly exclaimed. ‘Where is your brother?’ The tumbling queries didn’t halt his slow, purposeful pursuit. She backed off instinctively, angling away from him, still attempting to keep the fierce sunbeams from impairing her vision.