The Master of Winterbourne

‘You wouldn't let him?’ Alice asked, incredulous.

Henrietta opened her mouth to rebuke her, then fell silent as the scalding blush spread up her skin. Her new self-knowledge was hard to live with.

‘He didn't want to? What on earth did you do or say to anger him so?’

‘I called him a Puritan.’

‘But he is not, surely? Not in his dress, nor his ways, nor his speech. Now that clerk of his with his nasty, weasely ways - he's a Puritan if I ever saw one.’

‘We both lost our tempers. I don't want to talk about it any more, Alice, and I don't expect to find you've been gossiping in the kitchens about this. I shall get up now.’

Alice sniffed, radiating hurt at the rebuke, but did as she was told, shaking out a light grey silk gown while Henrietta washed. After a while she broke the silence and began to chatter again. Alice never sulked for long. ‘Mistress Clifford was saying that Sir Matthew and Lawyer Stone will be leaving after breakfast.’

‘Leaving?’ The man was baffling. He had only just arrived to claim the estate. Had she angered him so much or, having laid down his authority, did he feel secure enough to return to London until the wedding?

Yet his absence might be to her advantage, she realised, biting her lower lip in thought as she twisted up her hair. It would give her time to dispose of the papers, then when he returned she would have nothing on her conscience to prevent her being a good and faithful wife. But how long would it take to contact the Royalist agents and get the casket safe away?

Chapter Ten

Lawyer Stone was alone in th

e hall when Henrietta came down. He sat at one end of the long table, scowling as he cut himself a wedge from a great wheel of Cheddar cheese.

‘Do you have all you need, sir?’ Henrietta asked politely. ‘Sufficient ale, bread? Have they not brought you the cold beef?’

‘Girl's just gone for it. Thank you, Henrietta, your aunt has seen to it that I have ample. Your young man is in the garden, wouldn't stay and have a decent meal. I don't know what ails him, but perhaps you do?’ He fixed her with a gimlet eye under a bushy brow and Henrietta realised that his mind was sharp as a steel trap under the bluff exterior he liked to present to the world.

Without answering she dropped a small curtsy and escaped into the warm sunshine. There was no sign of Matthew in the orchard nor in the knot garden so she crossed the carriageway and entered the walled herb garden.

The space was alive with the hum of insects and heady with the scent of the herbs, each rising distinctly as the hem of her skirts brushed against them. Matthew was standing with his back to her by the furthest brick-edged bed, listening while Aunt Susan chattered on.

‘… excellent for congestions of the lungs. I think I have a bottle or two in the stillroom from last year. You must take some, sir, and promise me to try it. London Town is unhealthy at any time, but when the weather warms… Ah, Henrietta, my dear child. I was just telling Matthew about the benefits of comfrey. He was most interested.’ She cast a sharp glance at the two of them and picked up her basket and scissors. ‘Now I must see how Lawrence is getting on. I'm sure his housekeeper doesn't feed him properly.’ She bustled off, muttering about the unfortunate Mistress Partridge.

‘Really, I do not think she has ever clapped eyes on the poor woman,’ Henrietta said with an attempt at lightness.

‘Did you sleep well?’ Matthew ignored the quip.

‘Did you?’ she challenged, although she didn't need to ask. The shadowed eyes and tight lines of tiredness she'd seen in her own face in the glass were mirrored in his.

‘No. I lay awake and ached for you. Is that what you wish to hear me say?’ He snapped off a bay leaf with a vicious twist, rubbing it between his fingers so that the pungent smell filled her nostrils.

‘I would not want anyone to suffer on my account, but I did not ask you to come to my room.’ Henrietta sat on a low wall and sniffed the lavender. Nothing would make her admit she had ached for him too.

‘No. I was a fool to think you would welcome me.’ His mouth was a thin line of self-disgust. ‘When I return you I trust you will be prepared to be… wifely.’

‘You're leaving, then?’ The words were too hasty, they sounded false even to her ears.

‘Don't pretend you didn't know. That little maid of yours is all ears and she will have lost no time in passing on the intelligence. Why are you here, madam? To discover how many weeks you have of freedom before I return?’

That was too near the knuckle for comfort. Henrietta avoided his scrutiny. ‘Yes, I did know you were leaving. Lawyer Stone told me, not gossip from the maids. I came to find how long you'd be away, not to relish the separation. You choose to believe the worst of me, Matthew, but, believe me, I do accept our marriage.’

There was a long pause before he said, ‘Our marriage perhaps. Do you also accept what will follow it, Henrietta?’ The green eyes were cool on her hot face. ‘I’d not force you if you are unwilling, you know that. But if you are, then this whole arrangement falls.’

‘Yes. I would be willing.’ It was difficult to admit, but, in everything she could, she must be honest with him.

She hoped her frankness would disarm him but he accepted the admission with a slight smile and a shrug. ‘Well, you have a month of freedom for anticipation and whatever women do before a wedding.’

‘You'll be away for a whole month? For the entire time before our wedding?’