Matty - Part 12
By Ian Hobson
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Matty Part 12 - Whitsunday
Footman, Ephraim Bromley, held the door for Lady Caroline as she stepped down from her carriage. It was Sunday 4th June - Whitsunday - and, dressed in her finest gown, Lady Caroline was on her way into church. Unusually, she was unaccompanied, as Sir Henry had had an urgent message from his leading hand at the lead mine the previous evening, and had departed at first light, leaving word with Webster, the house steward, that he would be back by nightfall.
Lady Caroline lifted the front of her gown and petticoats as she stepped over the puddle in front of the roofed church gate as Rev. Grenville stepped forward to greet her, offering her his arm. ‘Good morning, Lady Caroline. A beautiful day, is it not?’ he said, looking toward the carriage. ‘Is Sir Henry not with you?’
‘He be called away to is mine,’ replied Lady Caroline. ‘Some fool blowed imself up.’
‘My word, how dreadful!’ exclaimed Rev. Grenville, still smiling. He ushered Lady Caroline through the turnstile gate, and was tempted to give her a helping push as she laboured through the narrow opening, but thought better of it. Once through the gate he offered her his arm again and escorted her through the church door and to her regular place in the side pew, before disappearing into the vestry.
Lady Caroline took her seat and looked around the church, returning a smile or a nod to those worthy of it. The small church was almost full, though thankfully it was cool. She noticed John Barns, Sir Henry’s estate steward, his face a mask of piety as usual. Then a young fair-haired lad, that she knew to be the miller’s son, came along the isle in front of her and sat at the end of a pew opposite. She cast her eye over him appreciatively. His woollen clothes were rough but clean, though his shoes were muddy. The lad turned and looked in her direction, and on seeing her he touched his forelock and bowed slightly before averting his eyes and looking toward the front of the church.
‘Well mannered lad,’ thought Lady Caroline. Then the door to the vestry opened and Rev. Grenville came out and climbed the steps to the pulpit.
***
After the service Rev. Grenville stood outside the porch that sheltered the church door. And beside him stood his heavily pregnant young wife and his two daughters. He beamed at his parishioners and shook their hands vigorously as they left the church. As was customary, Lady Caroline had left first and had already boarded her carriage, which had set off back along the rutted road through the village.
Matthew Groves slipped past the vicar, keen to be on his way. His father had gone to visit his sister who lived on one of the remote hilltop farms, leaving Matthew in charge of the mill but with strict instructions to do nothing until he returned. Matthew was happy to comply and was looking forward to a lazy afternoon by the river. Avoiding the throng at the main gate, he followed the stone paved path around to the rear of the church, noticing a pile of earth beside a freshly dug grave, before he slipped out of the rear church gate and ran along the field path that led down to the road. As he joined the road he saw Lady Caroline’s carriage ahead, picking up speed. But as one of the carriage’s front wheels dipped into a deep puddle and then struck a large stone, the wheel sprung off the axle and the corner of the carriage dropped towards the ground.
Inside the carriage Lady Caroline was tipped out of her seat and onto the floor. The driver reigned in the two horses and the footman jumped down and hurried to the door of the carriage and opened it. Lady Caroline almost rolled out of the door, but the footman caught her arm and helped her back into her seat. She was a little dazed but soon regained her composure and began to shout at both the driver and the footman, threatening to have them both flogged.
The driver, old Benjamin Thomas, apologising profusely, climbed down and stood straddling the offending wheel, examining it for damage. ‘It’s not broke,’ he said, righting it and rolling it over to the carriage. ‘Ephraim, can you lift the axle while I put the wheel back on.’
Ephraim Bromley, the footman, looked at the way the carriage was leaning heavily under the weight of Lady Caroline and shook his head warily.
‘Can I help?’ asked Matthew Groves, stepping over to the carriage. Then with his back to the carriage and holding its underside with both hands he lifted it until the axle was about level with the centre of the wheel. Quickly, Benjamin and Ephraim hefted the wheel and pushed it back onto the axle, while Matthew relaxed his hold on the carriage, allowing the wheel to take the load.
‘Thanks, lad!’ said Benjamin as he picked up the wheel’s retaining plate and refitted it.
‘Yes, thank you,’ said Lady Caroline from the carriage. ‘You are a strong lad. What’s your name?’
‘Matty Groves, me Lady,’ replied Matthew, with a grin. ‘It were no trouble.’
‘Well you must be rewarded,’ said Lady Caroline, opening the door to her carriage. ‘Come and ride with me.’
Matthew hesitated. He had never been in a carriage in his life. He looked at the open door and at Lady Caroline in her fine gown. ‘But…’
‘Come on, lad, get in!’ insisted Lady Caroline.’ I can’t wait here all day.’ Matthew climbed into the carriage and Ephraim closed the door behind him, exchanging looks with Benjamin. Several villagers had now arrived at the scene and had stopped to see what was taking place.
‘How dare you board her Ladyship’s carriage!’ shouted one of them. It was John Barnes, Sir Henry’s estate steward. ‘Get down at once. I’ll have you whipped!’
For Matthew, this was the most frightening experience of his whole life and he thought for a moment that he must be dreaming. He timidly reached for the handle of the carriage door but Lady Caroline gripped his arm and pulled it back. ‘How dare you interfere in my business, John Barnes!’ she shouted. ‘I’ll have you dismissed. Drive on Benjamin!’
John Barnes’ face turned purple and veins stood out on his forehead. He turned on his heel and set off down the road, angrily pushing his way through the throng of onlookers.
‘Git on!’ shouted Benjamin, as he whipped the two horses with the reigns. The onlookers stepped aside as the carriage pulled away bumping over the ruts in the road, the wheels picking up water and mud from the puddles and spraying it in all directions.
In the carriage Matthew sat, bewildered, beside Lady Caroline, who was now gripping his arm with both hands and smiling at him.
***
John Barnes had returned to Scarford Hall, having been overtaken by Lady Caroline’s carriage and, on learning that the miller’s son had been invited into the house, he had decided that Sir Henry should know about it at once. Taking a horse from the stable he had set off for the lead mine and arrived by late afternoon to find Sir Henry preparing to return.
‘Invited him into the house, you say?’ said Sir Henry, as he rode down the hill from the mine-workings beside John Barnes.
‘Aye, Sir Henry,’ said Barnes.
‘Well, if as you say, the lad helped with the wheel, then perhaps my Lady was going to reward him with a few pennies and send him on his way.’ Sir Henry tried to sound convincing, though he was not convincing himself.
‘The cook had been ordered to bring forward the evening meal, Sir,’ said Barnes, ‘and not to wait for yourself.’
‘Really? Damn the woman!’ Sir Henry looked toward the south-west where the sky had turned almost black with rain clouds, and then he felt the first few spots of rain on his face. ‘We better hurry along,’ he said, and then, under his breath, 'If she thinks she can make a cuckold of me, she has another think coming, damn her.'
***
It was early evening, and Matthew sat at the large oak dinning table, sipping his port. He had rarely tasted wine and he had never even heard of port before. But here he was in the large oak panelled dinning hall of Scarford Hall, sitting opposite Lady Caroline, with a silver goblet of port in his hand. He took another sip, liking the warm feeling in his chest.
‘Will you have more to eat?’ Lady Caroline asked, chewing on a chicken leg. Once the table was laid she had dismissed the servants and proceeded to serve Matthew herself.
Matthew had been astounded at the varied and mountainous dishes. Soup, roasted chicken, fricassee of rabbit, a leg of boiled mutton, carps, venison, a dish of roasted pigeons, lamprey pie, bread, pastry and three sorts of wine.
A long and loud belch bubbled up from Matthew’s insides and escaped through his mouth. He was about to apologise, but Lady Caroline let out an even louder belch and they sat grinning at each other. Matthew took another sip of the port, his eyes were glazed and he swayed slightly in his seat, looking as though he was about to topple over. His eyelids drooped and then opened again as rain rattled against the mullioned windows and he heard a distant rumble of thunder.
Lady Caroline reached for the small brass bell that stood on the table close to her right elbow. She rang the bell and the door from the entrance hall opened. ‘Yes, me Lady?’ said Nicholas Webster, the house steward as he stood in the doorway looking at the floor of the dinning hall and keeping hold of the doorknob. He was old and bent and unable to see straight ahead.
‘Tell Mary am intendin to retire early. Have her turn down me bed, then she’s dismissed.’
‘And the err… your guest, me Lady?’
Caroline thought for a moment. ‘Have Mary make up a bed in one of the guest rooms. We can’t send the poor lad out on a night like this. He’ll catch is death o cold.’
‘One of the guest rooms?’ asked Webster incredulously, tilting his head to one side and trying to look at Lady Caroline.
‘Yes, man! Are you deaf?’ Lady Caroline asked, sharply.
‘Very well, me Lady,’ said Webster, backing out of the room and closing the door.
Caroline turned her attention back to Matthew. ‘I’ve a little job for a strong lad like you… upstairs… if you’re willin. You are willin aren’t you?’
Matthew felt very tired and just a little sick, but he nodded his agreement.
TO BE CONTINUED
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