Tuppence (The Tipton Hollow 3)

“It’s her again, isn’t it? Have you seen her? Is that it? Tuppence Smethurst.”

The way his mother sneered Tuppence’s name was enough to make Isaac’s handsome features harden. His gaze was cold and hard as he studied the face of the woman who had born him life. In that moment, he almost hated Gertrude for her narrow features which were soured by the stern pinch of her thin lips, the arched brows which had been drawn down, and the spite in her ice blue eyes.

“You speak her name as if it were an insult for it to pass your lips, mother. Be careful, you are allowing your ignorance to show.” Isaac propped his boots on the corner of his desk, something he knew Gertrude detested.

One. Two. Three.

“Get your boots off there. You know how much I can’t stand it when you do that. What do you think you are doing?” Gertrude slapped ineffectually at his boots. The sneer on her face worsened leaving Isaac in no doubt about how offensive she found his behaviour to be.

“It’s my desk, mother,” Isaac warned without moving. “It’s my study, my desk, my chair, my home, my house, and my estate. Remember that before you invite any more of your cronies here while insulting my friends.”

“My cronies? Why, how dare you?”

“I dare all right. You expect me to accommodate your friends, and house them, feed them, water them, yet you cannot bring yourself to be hospitable to someone I am acquainted with despite her being one of the people who has worked endless hours to put the food onto the table which you enjoy.”

“The beef hasn’t come from Hilltop Farm.” Gertrude was immediately assaulted with the delicious memory of the succulent meat her guests had all praised her for giving them during the meal they had shared just a few hours ago.

“I am afraid that it has,” Isaac warned. “And the lamb, and the wheat for the bread. It is all Hilltop Farm’s produce.”

“I didn’t realise you were doing that much trade with her.” Gertrude squinted maliciously at him. “I didn’t realise that you were that - acquainted - with her.”

Isaac struggled to contain his annoyance at Gertrude’s criticism of Tuppence’s morals. He glared at her so hatefully that Gertrude knew instantly that she had gone too far.

“Your slurs are beneath you, mother,” Isaac hissed. “You must know about the recent demise of Tuppence’s brother. How can you be so churlish that you would object to the good Chester family helping a neighbour by purchasing some of the Smethurst cattle, eh? Especially when it furnishes your table with a delicious repast enjoyed by all of your friends.”

Gertrude, annoyed at being so firmly put in her place, folded her shawl in her fingers in agitation. “Well, of course you must help our neighbours,” she announced primly, but with an air of superiority that left Isaac in no doubt that by use of the word ‘neighbours’ she meant ‘inferiors’.

“As long as she doesn’t cross the threshold and sully your precious reputation by venturing out of her place, eh?” Isaac snorted, curling his lip in distaste. “God, you are disgraceful.”

“My dear, while I applaud your benevolence, you must know that she isn’t one of our kind,” Gertrude murmured primly. “She is pretty, I will grant you, but she is a farmer, and an impoverished one at that.”

“She is still a person, mother. Tuppence has encountered difficulties only the cruelty of life could throw at her. She is still someone who deserves your respect, and benevolence of spirit if not fortune,” Isaac chided. He downed his brandy and lifted the decanter again.

“You shouldn’t drink so much,” Gertrude scolded. “The last thing we need is for you to get drunk tonight.”

“If I choose to get drunk in my own house then I will and you certainly shall not stop me,” Isaac snapped.

“What has happened to you? Has someone said something to offend you?”

“Besides you, you mean?” Isaac muttered sarcastically. “We are busy,” Isaac boomed when the door was suddenly shoved open by a curious young woman who poked her head into the room and beamed the instant that she saw Gertrude.

“Oh, I am sorry,” she smiled despite being quite clearly not sorry at all.

“Ah, there you are my dear,” Gertrude cried, throwing Isaac a smug smile before she rose to greet the young woman. “Isaac, dear, you remember Miss Caroline Talbot, don’t you?”

Isaac made no attempt to get out of his chair to greet her. “Yes, I do,” he growled, pouring himself another brandy.

“Come and join us,” Gertrude urged Caroline, waving her closer. “Don’t mind him. He is just a little surly this evening.”

Isaac glared at her, but his mother was too busy simpering over Miss Talbot to notice. Rather than leave, as he wanted to do, Isaac studied the woman he suspected Gertrude had chosen to be his wife.

Over my dead body.

Caroline Talbot was someone who, if he had been on a wife hunt, he might have considered as a wife. She was well bred. Her family had wealth, and good connections. Caroline Talbot was good looking enough with deep auburn hair and pleasant features. She would have been the perfect candidate. But, as far as Isaac was concerned, there were two major issues that blocked her from being appealing and they were issues Isaac knew his mother had no idea existed.

Firstly, he wouldn’t consider marrying any woman his mother chose for him or got on well with mostly because he knew that the prospective bride would have the same characteristics as Gertrude. Being married to Caroline Talbot was too much like being married to his mother. Isaac knew from his mother’s choice of friends that they were all as spiteful as each other and tended to thrive on nasty gossip. It was enough to make Isaac want to tug at his hair and run for the door. He had seen the sly look Caroline had given him, as if she were privy to some malicious joke only her and Gertrude were privy to. It was alarming because he kn

ew that the women would join forces against him if he was ever foolish enough to do something rash like show any interest toward Caroline Talbot.