carry on dealing with them. You’re so good at it.’
‘That is not the point, Charles!’
‘You mean you’re going to insist on me dealing with them even if it means we go bankrupt within a year?’
‘Now you are exaggerating,’ she said impatiently. ‘You can learn—’
‘I do not want to learn!’ I exploded. ‘I am a musician, not a land agent!’
She visibly took a deep breath to steel herself before replying, which annoyed me even more. Was I so irritating to deal with? ‘This is a matter of legalities, Charles. These estates do not belong to me any longer. They are yours.’
‘Then I appoint you my steward,’ I said. ‘He would deal with all the routine matters, would he not, and merely ask for my signature? Very well, you are now my steward!’
‘Oh, really , Charles!’ she said, exasperated.
There was an uncomfortable silence. I prowled across the room, stared out of the window, gulped down my brandy. Esther said nothing, but sat at the desk with her hands clasped on its paper-cluttered surface. The reddening sunlight gleamed on her cheeks, her golden hair . . .
I could not bear it. To be at odds with her was unendurable.
‘I ordered two coats,’ I said. ‘And a waistcoat. But without embroidery. Even though I was assured the latest thing in decoration is bumble bees, I couldn’t do it. I’ve always hated honey.’
She burst out laughing. I watched the way her whole face lit up, the delicious crinkles at the side of her eyes, the elegant line of throat as her head tipped back. ‘But you did not order new breeches?’ she said in mock reproach.
‘You’re never satisfied.’
She held my gaze, smiled, said consideringly, ‘We have just argued, Charles. For the first time.’
‘Alas—’ I caught her meaning, added more enthusiastically, ‘Definitely, we have argued.’
‘I do believe there is a popular saying—’
‘About making up—’
‘– being the best part of any argument.’ She gave me a look as coy as any of Mrs Annabella’s.
I gestured at the papers. ‘Do you not need to finish your work?’
‘Work!’ she said, horrified. ‘A lady never works , Charles!’
She stood and came across to me, took the brandy glass from my fingers. I didn’t resist.
‘Cook will have the beef already cooking,’ I pointed out, teasingly. ‘What will she say if we’re late and it burns?’
She took my hand. ‘Charles,’ she said, ‘I am not married to the cook! Now come on.’
Fortunately, we didn’t see any of the servants on our way upstairs.
Ten
Outward appearance is always a true sign of inward nature.
[ A Gentleman’s Companion , September 1734]
A thin cold drizzle dampened the cobbles as I walked under the arch into the yard of the Golden Fleece. It was early, much too early for a newly married man; I began to wonder how fond Jenison was of his wife if he regarded getting up for the morning coach as a matter of indifference. One thing newly married couples are never warned about is the difficulty finding time to sleep.
A friendly spirit slid round the walls to keep me company. ‘Off on your travels again, Mr Patterson?’ The spirit had been an ostler in life, trampled to death by a frightened horse, an event he delights in narrating in unnerving detail.
‘Meeting someone off the coach.’
The spirit sighed wistfully. ‘I always wanted to travel but the furthest I ever got was Sunderland.’
‘My condolences,’ I murmured.
‘Is he coming far, sir?’
‘From London.’
‘Now there’s a man of good sense,’ the spirit said. ‘Why should anyone want to stay in that pit of iniquity?’
I shivered in the drizzle and contemplated a horse that was being led into the yard. It was a dark grey, and my mind slipped back to that other grey, that had ridden down the woman and child. If that was Ridley’s horse, it would be stabled at his mother’s house by now, a mile out of town on the Carlisle road. There was no possibility of getting a look
‘That is not the point, Charles!’
‘You mean you’re going to insist on me dealing with them even if it means we go bankrupt within a year?’
‘Now you are exaggerating,’ she said impatiently. ‘You can learn—’
‘I do not want to learn!’ I exploded. ‘I am a musician, not a land agent!’
She visibly took a deep breath to steel herself before replying, which annoyed me even more. Was I so irritating to deal with? ‘This is a matter of legalities, Charles. These estates do not belong to me any longer. They are yours.’
‘Then I appoint you my steward,’ I said. ‘He would deal with all the routine matters, would he not, and merely ask for my signature? Very well, you are now my steward!’
‘Oh, really , Charles!’ she said, exasperated.
There was an uncomfortable silence. I prowled across the room, stared out of the window, gulped down my brandy. Esther said nothing, but sat at the desk with her hands clasped on its paper-cluttered surface. The reddening sunlight gleamed on her cheeks, her golden hair . . .
I could not bear it. To be at odds with her was unendurable.
‘I ordered two coats,’ I said. ‘And a waistcoat. But without embroidery. Even though I was assured the latest thing in decoration is bumble bees, I couldn’t do it. I’ve always hated honey.’
She burst out laughing. I watched the way her whole face lit up, the delicious crinkles at the side of her eyes, the elegant line of throat as her head tipped back. ‘But you did not order new breeches?’ she said in mock reproach.
‘You’re never satisfied.’
She held my gaze, smiled, said consideringly, ‘We have just argued, Charles. For the first time.’
‘Alas—’ I caught her meaning, added more enthusiastically, ‘Definitely, we have argued.’
‘I do believe there is a popular saying—’
‘About making up—’
‘– being the best part of any argument.’ She gave me a look as coy as any of Mrs Annabella’s.
I gestured at the papers. ‘Do you not need to finish your work?’
‘Work!’ she said, horrified. ‘A lady never works , Charles!’
She stood and came across to me, took the brandy glass from my fingers. I didn’t resist.
‘Cook will have the beef already cooking,’ I pointed out, teasingly. ‘What will she say if we’re late and it burns?’
She took my hand. ‘Charles,’ she said, ‘I am not married to the cook! Now come on.’
Fortunately, we didn’t see any of the servants on our way upstairs.
Ten
Outward appearance is always a true sign of inward nature.
[ A Gentleman’s Companion , September 1734]
A thin cold drizzle dampened the cobbles as I walked under the arch into the yard of the Golden Fleece. It was early, much too early for a newly married man; I began to wonder how fond Jenison was of his wife if he regarded getting up for the morning coach as a matter of indifference. One thing newly married couples are never warned about is the difficulty finding time to sleep.
A friendly spirit slid round the walls to keep me company. ‘Off on your travels again, Mr Patterson?’ The spirit had been an ostler in life, trampled to death by a frightened horse, an event he delights in narrating in unnerving detail.
‘Meeting someone off the coach.’
The spirit sighed wistfully. ‘I always wanted to travel but the furthest I ever got was Sunderland.’
‘My condolences,’ I murmured.
‘Is he coming far, sir?’
‘From London.’
‘Now there’s a man of good sense,’ the spirit said. ‘Why should anyone want to stay in that pit of iniquity?’
I shivered in the drizzle and contemplated a horse that was being led into the yard. It was a dark grey, and my mind slipped back to that other grey, that had ridden down the woman and child. If that was Ridley’s horse, it would be stabled at his mother’s house by now, a mile out of town on the Carlisle road. There was no possibility of getting a look
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