Josie laughed. “Yes, there are some very odd names in the Bible. Is anyone going to eat that last chantilly cake? I still have a little corner that it might conveniently fill.”
“Dear me, Josie, have you not eaten sufficient yet?” Lady Rennington said faintly.
“Those of us with a baby to feed are perpetually hungry,” Josie said cheerfully, as Tess pushed the plate nearer to her.
“That is what wet nurses were invented for,” Mrs Harfield said disdainfully. “At least then you would be able to sleep at night.”
“Oh, but I adore babies when they are so tiny,” Josie said, with a sigh, as she took the last cake. “Gerard is so warm and sweet and lovely, and he will become a grubby little boy with scraped knees all too quickly. I could not bear to hand him over to anyone else just yet.” She devoured the cake in two swift bites. “I believe I could manage another mouthful of the orange jelly.”
Tess laughed and reached for the dish, but the older ladies all sighed and shook their heads.
***
Tess was too shrewd to reveal any part of her plan prematurely. For three days, therefore, she explored the gardens of the Priory in the mornings and sat demurely in the Blue Parlour with her needlework in the afternoons. If there was an outing to call on neighbours, or shopping in Durham, she obediently went along too. When Josie received word that her mother-in-law had left and it was safe to go home, Tess helped her pack and waved her away in a little train of coaches for her house high on the cliffs to the east.
But there came a day when nothing else was planned, and Tess ventured to take a step towards her objective.
“If there is a carriage unwanted today, might I go and call upon Mrs Jack?” she said casually at breakfast. “I should not like her to think I am ignoring her.”
“That is a kind thought. One would not wish to be backward in any attention,” Lady Rennington said. “I should call, too, since I have not been since shortly after I arrived here. Josie came, and what with one thing and another, poor Joan went quite out of my head. It will serve as a farewell. We shall both go, Tess, dear.”
“Farewell? You are leaving?” Tess said, surprised. “Returning to Corland?”
Lady Rennington looked somewhat conscious. “Not that, no. I thought I might visit the cousins at Lochmaben.”
“Scotland?But why?”
“Oh… the duchess invited me,” she said, waving an arm vaguely in the air. “And I do not like to outstay my welcome here.”
“I thought you would have gone to Josie, if you do not wish to go home,” Tess said. “Or Izzy, perhaps.”
“Izzy is travelling,” Lady Rennington said. “There is no knowing where she is, but she is not at home. She left her carriage here, as well as her maid, her footman and half her luggage, and just… vanished. You know what Izzy is like. But I have a feeling that she might end up at Lochmaben, and if she does, there I shall be. As for Josie, she does not need me. But I should like to see Mrs Jack before I leave, so I shall come with you, Tess, dear.”
Tess did not mind that. There was plenty of time and she had no wish to‘rush her fences’, to use an expression of her father’s. She rarely bothered to ride, and certainly not to hunt, so jumping fences was not a thing she ever did, but she understood perfectly about not rushing at things. She had rushed rather over Tom, pushing him into going to her father to ask for her hand, and look what had come of that. Not only had Tom been thoroughly chastised for his presumption, but he had not even managed to winkle the vital information out of her father of howmuch her dowry might be. And her father had gone straight out and changed his will, to hobble her entire future.
Or so he believed. She smiled as she thought about it, for if her plan came to fruition… Slowly and carefully, that was the way to do it. Step by cautious step.
Mrs Jack Harfield, the widow of the third Harfield brother, suffered the usual difficulties of those married to younger brothers. Jack had had no estate of his own, no career or income beyond the charity of his brothers. The eldest brother had inherited the title, the Priory and a fine income. The middle brother had married a woman of wealth with an estate of her own. Jack had never taken thought for the future at all, and thus had left his widow in relative poverty.
Holly Cottage was not quite so small as its name implied, but containing, as it did, Mrs Jack and her seven children, her son from her first marriage, a couple of spinster relations to help with the children, and an ever-varying array of servants, it always felt to Tess like an over-full asylum. There was not a room in the house free from chaos, or a chair unmarred by discarded sewing or a broken toy.
Mrs Jack and the spinsters rushed around collecting up this and that to make room for the two visitors to sit down, then the spinsters disappeared to the kitchen to arrange for tea, and, Tess suspected, to whip up a batch of biscuits or a cake, for there would be none in the house.
For a while, the usual pleasantries were exchanged. Mrs Jack said nothing about the shocking events at Corland Castle. One would imagine that a murder, followed by the disinheritance of the earl’s entire family, might be worthy of some comment, but she was entirely absorbed by the doings of her own family. As one child or another, or more often three or four at once, barrelled into the room, inevitably knocking over someornament-strewn small table, or tripping on a badly laid rug, their mother would smile fondly.
“Ah, Oswin! Such a fine boy, although he will run into things. He lost a couple of teeth only last week. Dear Isolda! She is learning the pianoforte, you know. Do play something for us, darling. Elfleda! Have you torn your gown again?” Laughing, she added, “Such an energetic girl! Aldith, do bear me company, child. She is not quite out yet, but she is becoming quite the young lady.”
Aldith, a well-grown girl of fifteen, did indeed sit still for perhaps two minutes, long enough to display her tousled hair and a gown sporting a multitude of stains. Mrs Jack’s gown was none too fresh, either, and the younger children all looked as if they had spent a week living out of doors. The spinsters came in eventually with a tray of tea, and as Mrs Jack poured, Tess thought it time to move closer to her objective.
“And how is Ulric, Mrs Harfield? I have not seen him for an age.”
Her perpetually anxious face softened. “Ulric is well, as always. Nothing ever ails him, thank God. He is at Myercroft today, but on market days he helps out at the Queen’s Head and of course Dan Smith could not do without him. Any difficult beast, and Ulric is sure to be sent for.”
Tess nodded and said all that was proper. Ulric’s affinity for horses was legendary — in fact, it was the only interesting facet to his character, for he had suffered an unfortunate incident as a baby when an inebriated nurse had dropped him on his head. The poor boy had never been right since. Still, he had inherited Myercroft from his father, which was let to tenants but with the proviso that he might stable his extensive collection of horses there. A good proportion of the income from the house went to funding his hacks and hunters. In his spare time, he acted as ostler at the coaching inn, and helped the smith.
Ulric was not likely to put in an appearance, so Tess set her sights on the three eldest daughters. Before the half-hour visit was over, she had arranged to bring journals showing the latest fashions to the eldest, a novel for the middle sister and some music for the third. She left well satisfied with her progress.
6: A Lady Friend
