Anne O'Brien - Marriage Under Siege

The weather was chill and changeable, but Mansell was not to be deterred from his self-imposed task. Sometimes he spent a night away from Brampton Percy. More often than not he returned wet, muddied and more than a little depressed to refuel, catch a night’s sleep and set off again next morning. He would see the extent of his new possessions, their strengths and weaknesses, and make himself known as a landlord who would be involved in the well-being of his estate.

The manor of Leintwardine was much as he expected and had been warned, a pretty timbered manor house with gardens and substantial outbuildings. No wonder Honoria remembered it with pleasure, he mused, enjoying a sweep of snowdrops beneath the bare beech trees. But there was no hope of protecting it against serious hostile intent. Buckton, Aylton and Eyton were even worse, lacking defences and investment. In the event of an attack from his neighbours, Mansell knew that he must leave them to take their chance, removing the servants to Brampton Percy at the first sign of danger; in effect, handing the property over to the Royalists. It was not a decision that sat well with him, but what choice did he have without an army at his back?

Leysters made no excuses for the neglect, pointing out the worst of it with blunt honesty, but neither did he shoulder any blame. Lord Edward had been content to collect the rents, albeit sporadically, but he refused to listen to pleas for assistance or sink any money into the estate. At least the servants who tried to hold the scattered, dilapidated manors were pleased to see agent and lord working together. Perhaps the news of Mansell’s largesse at Brampton Percy had spread, and presumably lost nothing in the telling.

A rapid ride through the crown land at Kingsland proved that it could be used to better purpose than its present fallow state. Then a long journey up to Clun. The sheep from the vast flocks were spread over the common land, but the elderly shepherd, who assessed Mansell with a critical eye and all the confidence of seven decades, assured him that they were in good heart and would have a fine stock of lambs to sell to the local markets in late spring, if they were all still alive to enjoy the profits. Mansell agreed, promising to do his best to ensure that they were, then turned wearily for Ludlow to spend a night at the Brampton town house.

Here there was much to raise his spirits. He discovered it to be an extensive property set in an excellent position in Corve Street, its panelled rooms and plastered ceilings warm and pleasing to the eye. He immediately had a vision of Honoria putting it to rights and making it a home again. She would enjoy it, he thought. If she were willing to expend her energies on the castle, how much more rewarding it would be to take this more manageable property in hand. He must convey her to his estates in Suffolk, he decided, as he walked through the sparsely furnished rooms. And to see his mother in London, of course. A twinge of guilt assailed him as he realised that he had failed to communicate his intentions to his family. And then shrugged. It could wait. There was simply so much to do.

Nevertheless, he found the time to pay a visit to the Hoptons, to make his request to Sir Joshua. Here he was made welcome with food and wine and pleasant conversation by the older Hopton generation and enjoyed the freedom of not having to defend his views against a critical audience. His private conversation with the son of the household was less comfortable, being met first with outright disbelief and then irrepressible humour.

‘So you have succeeded where Rudhall of Rudhall failed.’ Joshua did not try to hide his delight.

‘It seems so.’

‘He will be less than pleased. He had high hopes of a connection. All I can say is, Thank God! Do I congratulate you?’

‘You might.’

‘Are you going to tell me why?’

‘No.’

‘Hmm. Not very communicative, Francis. Do I detect a mystery?’

‘Definitely not. But will you come?’

‘Assuredly. I cannot wait to experience the delights of Brampton Percy once more. When?’

‘Next week.’

Josh’s brows rose. ‘I see.’

‘I doubt it.’ Mansell looked across the room towards the rest of the family, gathered round a table to play cards with loud enthusiasm, seeking out the lively younger sister with dark curls and an open, friendly manner. ‘Would Mary accompany you, do you think? Would your parents allow it?’

Josh laughed. ‘She would need no persuading. Women’s talk and weddings. And I don’t see why she should not travel with me. The roads seems quiet enough. But why?’

‘My lady needs someone to talk to.’

‘So she isn’t talking to you?’ Josh looked at his friend with interested speculation.

All he received was a flat stare. ‘Not yet.’ And with that he had to be content.

Satisfied with the outcome of the visit, Mansell set out for Wigmore. Any lingering pleasant thoughts were quickly driven out of his mind at Wigmore, a towering fortress on a rocky outcrop, guarding the route from Hereford to the north. Another medieval stronghold, able to withstand any attack, as the steward there was quick to inform him. No enemy could creep up undetected and they could easily be repulsed by the heavy walls and towers.

‘But we need manpower, my lord Mansell. How can we hold off even the smallest force with only a handful of elderly servants and the kitchen maids?’

Mansell did not know the answer. And Brampton Percy was in no better state, notwithstanding the strength of its manmade fortifications.

He turned his horse’s head wearily for home, deciding against a courtesy call at Croft Castle. He did not feel up to fielding questions from Sir William about his proposed marriage and his alienation from county sympathies. He would go home. And marry Honoria, for good or ill.

Meanwhile the lady of Brampton Percy had spent her time equally profitably, hiring in girls from the village to tackle the more immediate problems. If she regretted her newly affianced lord’s absences from the castle, she did not admit it. Not even to herself. Instead, since escape to Leintwardine had been deliberately put to one side, she poured her energies into the deficiencies of her personal nightmare. Changes gradually became evident at the castle, most dramatically when her lord returned from a wet and trying day spent in assessing the distant acres of the manor of Burrington. Foxton and Honoria were engaged in directing Robert, who was perched on a precarious ladder with a mop, in cleaning cobwebs from the ceiling in one of the darker passages leading from the Great Hall. Surrounded by dust and spiders, they were unaware of their lord’s return until disturbed by a distinctly male and angry outburst from somewhere in the upper regions of the house.

‘Perhaps I should …’ Foxton turned nobly to discover the problem.

‘No.’ Honoria sighed a little. ‘I will go. After all, I initiated the problem, whatever it is. I think I can guess.’

She trod the stairs, Morrighan at her heels, to find her betrothed at the head of the staircase, still clad in boots and cloak, dripping puddles on the floor from a sodden hat clenched in one fist, glowering at one of the new serving girls who was speechless in terror at being accosted by the master of the house in an uncertain temper. Mansell immediately rounded on his lady, eyes full of temper, his hands fisted on his hips in a gesture of true male arrogance.

‘Perhaps you could explain to me, my lady, why the bed and window hangings have apparently disappeared from my room!’ He did not wait for an answer. ‘The chests and the clothes press are empty and it is as cold as the very devil in there with no fire laid, much less lit. There seems to be no one available to bring ale and food … and yet I seem to be falling over housemaids at every step, silly girls who tremble as if I would beat them when I ask a civil question. What is happening around here?’ The wolfhound stiffened and growled at the implied threat in his lordship’s raised voice. ‘And I am beset by this animal. Quiet!’ Morrighan dropped to a crouch beside Honoria’s skirts, hackles still raised, the growl subsiding to a low rumble. She continued to watch Mansell with narrowed eyes.