I’ll Bring You Buttercups

‘With respect, milady – no. There are things I should tell you first. I’ve sent Hawthorn to the sewing-room. It isn’t likely anyone will go up there yet awhile. With dinner just finished, they’ll all be busy downstairs.’

‘But attacked? She wasn’t –?’

‘No. She assured me it wasn’t – that, though it might well have been if the dog hadn’t defended her.’

‘Dog? Giles’s Morgan, you mean?’

‘Morgan. According to Reuben, that creature’s got another side to him. If he hadn’t been with Hawthorn, it’s almost certain we’d be worrying about something very serious indeed. The word that comes to mind, if you’ll pardon me, milady, is –’

‘Rape?’ Helen Sutton supplied, chalk-faced. ‘Please sit down, Miss Clitherow. I think you’d better tell me about it – all!’

‘Elliot!’ It had not made pretty hearing. Helen Sutton’s jaws clamped tight on her anger. ‘How dare he? Here, on my land and to one of my household! Is there no stopping him? But he’s gone too far this time!’ Family or no, her nephew must be confronted, accused. Drawing in her breath, biting back the flow of condemnation, she whispered, ‘Has my son been told?’

‘Not yet, milady. I came to you first. But I think you should know that the dog is with William. Reuben left him at the stables before he came to me; told them Morgan had got himself in a mess in the woods, and that someone had better clean him up before Mr Giles saw him.’

‘And William believed him?’

‘That I don’t know. William’s a gossip, we all know that. If he sets eyes on Hawthorn the state she’s in now, he’ll put two and two together and come up with worse than the truth. Reuben is fond of the girl, you see. I got the impression he’d like it kept quiet, for her sake; but Dwerryhouse – now he’s another matter altogether …’

‘I know. It’s a pity he struck my nephew.’

‘But wouldn’t you have done the same, in his shoes?’ Agnes Clitherow shrugged expressively. ‘It’s no secret he and Hawthorn are walking out. It surprises me he held on to his temper the way he did, and didn’t give the man the leathering he deserves. According to Hawthorn, Elliot Sutton smelled of drink. Sober, he’s obnoxious; under the influence he’s dangerous, if you ask me!’

But her ladyship hadn’t asked her, and the housekeeper felt her cheeks redden, knowing she had stepped outside the bounds of her position.

‘I’m sorry, milady. I beg your pardon – but Hawthorn isn’t a flighty one. She didn’t deserve to go through an experience like that, and I believe her when she said she gave him no encouragement.’

‘Encouragement? When ever did my nephew need that? No. This time he shall be called to answer for his behaviour. His parents must be told.’

‘And Hawthorn?’ Agnes Clitherow rose to her feet, sensing the interview was over. ‘The girl is upset, and sooner or later it’s all going to come out. Falling into a bramble bush is one thing, but the bruising is another; she won’t be a pretty sight in the morning. And the staff have a right to know, milady; to be warned. It seems no woman is safe from him.’

Frowning, Helen Sutton pursed her lips. Those who lived and worked at Rowangarth were indeed her responsibility – hers and Giles’s; they had a right to protection. But Elliot was a Sutton, and because of him the Sutton name would suffer. It was altogether too much!

‘I am bound to agree with you, Miss Clitherow, and I suggest you first discuss the matter with Mrs Shaw. It will be up to you both, then, to agree on what the staff is told, and how much. But I beg you to ask them to be discreet for a little while longer. I would like time to discuss this with my son first. That I must speak to Mrs Sutton is without dispute, but I know the staff will keep the matter out of the village for as long as they can – and be kind to Hawthorn, too. The poor young thing. Are you sure there is nothing I can do?’

‘Best you shouldn’t, milady. Not just yet. She’s very embarrassed at the moment. But when I’ve talked to Cook, I’ll tell Mary to take some milk up to her.’ Milk and honey. The best soother there was. The housekeeper swore by it. ‘Mary’s a sensible girl; I’ll tell her to see Hawthorn into bed and stay with her for a while.’

‘Yes. Perhaps that would be best. And please tell Hawthorn that I hope she’ll feel better in the morning. You’re sure we shouldn’t call the doctor?’

‘As sure as I can be, milady. No lasting harm was done – it might have been a lot worse. And I’ll give Alice one of my herbals to help her sleep.’

Leaving alone, that was what the girl wanted; not being quizzed and prodded by Doctor James, well-meaning though he might be. A bit of sympathy and understanding from her own kind would do more good than physic. And as for Elliot Sutton – well, let his equals deal with him. He was nothing to do with the likes of her, the housekeeper stressed silently, though from the set of her ladyship’s mouth, the young buck at Pendenys was in for a real eye-opening – and not before time, either!

‘I’ll bid you goodnight then, milady.’ Respectfully the suddenly weary woman nodded her head. ‘You can leave the matter of the servants to me.’

‘Thank you.’ Helen Sutton rose to her feet, forcing a smile. ‘I appreciate all you have done. Will you first call in the library and ask Mr Giles to come and see me as soon as he’s able? And goodnight to you, Miss Clitherow.’

‘I would like, Julia,’ said her mother briskly, ‘for you to make haste from the station this morning. No dallying, if you please, when you meet the doctor. I am going to Pendenys and would like to be there before ten.’

‘Why, might I ask?’ Julia frowned. Ten o’clock was calling time; before ten smacked of urgency. ‘You’ll be seeing them on Friday night – can’t it wait?’

‘It can not wait and you might not ask, either. What I have to discuss with your aunt is disturbing enough without having to repeat it over breakfast.’

‘But she has every right to know,’ Giles protested. ‘She’s in just as much danger from the man as any other woman. And she’s bound to find out for herself sooner or later.’

‘Danger? Now I insist you tell me, Mama.’

‘You’d better tell her, then, for I declare I’ve had enough of the sordid business already.’ Helen Sutton rose to her feet. ‘I shall go to my room, or I’ll have a headache.’

‘What is it; what’s going on?’ Julia demanded. ‘Shall I ring for Miss Clitherow? Would you like to lie down, Mama?’

‘No, I thank you. I am well able to take a powder without assistance and I’m sorry if I snapped, but – oh, Giles will tell you. I’ll be all right. Don’t worry.’

‘Don’t worry?’ Julia flamed when the door closed behind her mother. ‘What has upset her so? She looks as if she hasn’t slept all night. What is going on, Giles? What danger? And from which man?’

‘Do you need to ask? Elliot attacked Hawthorn last night in Brattocks. That’s why Mama’s going to Pendenys.’

‘Hawthorn! My, but he’s gone too far this time. Is she all right? He didn’t do anything?’

‘No, but it wasn’t for want of trying, I understand.’

‘My God! Is no one safe from him? He needs whipping.’

‘That he got last night. Dwerryhouse knocked him head over heels.’

‘Good for Dwerryhouse! But where is Hawthorn? I must go to her.’

‘Working in the sewing-room today, I believe.’

‘Right!’ Damn Elliot Sutton! The man was a menace, though no matter what Mama said, his silly mother would get him out of it – again. ‘You should have sent for the constable, Giles. That monster needs locking up!’ she called over her shoulder. Locking up till he’d learned sense, and a few good manners!

‘Oh, Hawthorn!’ Gently Julia touched the swollen cheek. ‘Not you, too! Goodness! That bruise is almost as bad as mine. You poor girl. I know how it hurts. How dare he do that to you?’

‘Elliot Sutton does what he likes hereabouts. It’s thanks to Morgan he didn’t do worse, though. Morgan went for him like a mad thing. Didn’t know the creature had it in him. Had him worried, Morgan did. Pinned him down till Tom got there. But I didn’t stop to see any more. Ran for all I was worth …’

‘Giles told me that Tom hit Elliot?’

‘He did, and I hope there’ll be no trouble. But Tom was real mad. Could have throttled him, he said.’

‘Then more’s the pity he didn’t. You wouldn’t believe that Nathan and Elliot are brothers, they’re so unalike.’

‘I know, miss. But Tom –’ Alice wanted the business of Tom’s hasty fist settled. ‘I’m worried, see, that he’ll be in trouble. Hit Elliot Sutton deliberate, he did. Said he hoped he’d broken his nose. And he might have, for all I know. Tom’s a big fellow. He could have hurt him.’

‘Hurt him! Wasn’t a lot of use hitting him if he didn’t, now was it? Anyway, there’ll be hell to pay this morning. Mama is going to Pendenys – unannounced – and if I know Mama, Elliot is going to be on the receiving end of her displeasure. She looked furious at breakfast.’

‘Oh, I wish she wouldn’t,’ Alice wailed. ‘I don’t want there to be any bother. I just want to get on with my work and forget all about it.’

‘But it can’t be forgotten. Elliot is evil. He always was, and he’s got to be stopped. It isn’t your fault, Hawthorn. Just be grateful that Morgan flew at him.’

‘Yes, miss, and don’t let’s talk about it any more. I’m that ashamed with all the bother it’s causing her ladyship.’

‘Then don’t be. But I must go now. Mama wants the carriage later, and I’m off to meet Andrew. And he shall come up and look at you – I insist – though what he’ll do about that bruise, I don’t know. Oh, Hawthorn dear – first me, now you. Whatever next?’

‘Whatever next?’ Alice whispered when the door had banged behind Julia and her footsteps could no longer be heard. Trouble, was there to be? Trouble for Tom, for herself? Because Mrs Clementina wasn’t going to let Elliot be taken to task, nothing was more certain. And under-keepers didn’t go punching their betters, neither.

Best for all concerned if her ladyship let it be; forgot about it. Better for her and Tom, that was, though Elliot Sutton would go on doing exactly what he wanted and no lass would be safe from him.

And how safe would it be now in Brattocks? And if she could no longer walk Morgan there, when was she ever to see Tom, except on her half-day off?

Alice blinked back a tear. She would not cry; not any more. They would find a way of meeting. And hadn’t everybody been so kind and good it had made her feel warm all over? Miss Clitherow had been like an angel of mercy last night, and Cook had sent Tilda up with an eggcupful of brandy, for the shock, and not one question had Tilda asked; not one lurid detail did she demand to know – offering a humbug and the loan of her love book instead.

But, best of all, Bess had peeped around the door to tell her that Tom had left Morgan’s lead at the kitchen door, asking anxiously how she was.

‘And he said to give you this,’ Bess whispered, handing her the flower. ‘Said you’d understand …’

The flower was there now, in a glass on the window-sill, and she had cried over the buttercup and loved Tom even more; glad she lived at Rowangarth, glad Miss Julia was her friend, yet sad that this morning there would be trouble at Pendenys and hoping with all her heart that Tom never came upon Elliot Sutton in the woods. Lordy, but it was a real worry, and heaven only knew where it would end.

‘Tom,’ she whispered to the buttercup. ‘Take care, lad; don’t do anything you’ll be sorry for.’

Clementina Sutton stood in the morning-room window, following the progress of the Rowangarth carriage with narrowed eyes. Helen was a punctilious caller, and calling time, it was accepted hereabouts, began at ten o’clock; indeed, not for another quarter of an hour, she calculated, checking the jewelled watch on her lapel with the clock on the overmantel. But she would soon know the cause of the breach in protocol, for her sister-in-law was making all haste to alight.

‘My dear.’ She smiled with genuine pleasure as the door opened, for in spite of the feeling of inferiority Helen’s presence always gave her, Clementina grudgingly admired her, though never, she sighed – not even if she tried until the crack of doom – would she acquire the ease of manner that placed Helen Sutton’s pedigree beyond question. Helen could dress in rags and mix with the motley and still be indisputably what she was. A lady.

‘Clementina.’ Briefly their cheeks touched. ‘This is not the happiest of visits,’ Helen murmured. ‘Indeed, I wish to say what I have come to say as quickly as possible, and beg your indulgence in the saying of it.

‘Giles left me in no doubt that he considered it to be his business, and was put out when I insisted it should be myself who told you, but when you have heard me out I’m sure I can safely leave the matter in your own capable hands, and we can bring this to a satisfactory conclusion,’ Helen murmured. ‘And I apologize for the early call, but what I must say is family and private, so I had little choice. Elliot,’ she said without more ado. ‘Have you seen him this morning?’

‘Why, no – but the boy was out late last evening and doubtless wishes to sleep on. Indeed, he rarely rises before ten …’

‘Then when you do see him, Clemmy, I warn you that you might be shocked by his appearance. Last night, you see, he made unwelcome advances to one of my maids who was forced to defend herself by scratching his face.’

‘Elliot? Unwelcome advances?’ Her face registered disbelief. ‘I cannot think my son would be interested in a – a servant.’

‘Then you must take my word for it that he was. What was more, the attack took place on Rowangarth land.’

‘Attack, you’re saying? Oh, come now, Helen, that is a most serious accusation. My son would never –’

‘Elliot did.’ Helen’s eyes held those of her brother-in-law’s wife. ‘He attacked a young girl not yet eighteen. What is more –’

‘Now see here!’ The mistress of Pendenys rose to her feet, all pretence at gentility gone. She was only too ready to admit to her son’s shortcomings, but that was a privilege allowed only to his mother. ‘I cannot allow this. You come to my home at an extremely inconvenient time, then accuse my son of pressing his advances upon a servant! Are you sure the little madam hasn’t got herself into trouble and now tries to implicate my son? The working classes are full of guile; never miss an opportunity. Elliot is a handsome young man and attractive to the ladies, but never would he stoop so low as you say!’

‘Your son, Clemmy, would stoop as low as it suited him to. The girl in question is young and innocent and not for a moment do I suspect she is in any kind of trouble – apart from the distress caused her by Elliot last evening.’ Helen Sutton took a deep, calming breath, wondering why she should feel so agitated when she had known all along that Clemmy would spring instantly to her son’s defence. ‘What is more, his face will carry the marks to prove it, since proof seems to be what you need. He may also be nursing a swollen nose or a blackened eye, or both, for it was my under-keeper’s young lady your son attacked!’

‘Attacked? I refute it utterly!’ Clementina cried. ‘And I resent your blacking of his character. If you are seeking a scapegoat, then I suggest you look elsewhere. And if it is true that one of your keepers assaulted my son, please to remember that I can have the law on him; teach the wretch his place!’

‘Indeed you can not! I will not have scandal attached to Rowangarth, nor will I have my staff placed at risk by your prowling son. And since it seems you are not prepared to do anything about his ungentlemanly behaviour, Clemmy, then I have only this to say. Elliot is not welcome at Rowangarth until he has made a full and unconditional apology to Giles for his behaviour, and given an understanding that it will not happen again to any member of my household. And until that apology has been received, your son must not set foot on Rowangarth land, for I cannot risk the wellbeing of those in my care. Do you fully understand that?’ The steely quiet of her accuser’s voice sent fear screaming silently through Clementina Sutton. The Creesby affair had been bad enough, but to be snubbed at Rowangarth was unthinkable.

‘I fully understand that you slander Elliot’s reputation,’ she snapped, ‘and he will not set foot on your property until an apology is received by him from you!’

‘Very well. The arrangement suits me admirably,’ Helen breathed, ‘though should Elliot have cause to change his mind and walk through my woods again, I want it understood that my keepers will be instructed to treat him as a common poacher, and pepper his backside with leadshot! The choice is entirely Elliot’s!’

‘Well!’ Clemmy’s voice faltered on the edge of tears, for never before had she seen Helen so angry, so white-faced with outrage. ‘I can only say that things have come to a pretty pass between us when my son – my innocent son – must be treated like a criminal!’ She flung round, her face red and ugly with temper. ‘And if your doors are closed to my son, then they are closed to me, too!’

‘So be it,’ Helen murmured. ‘And now I will bid you good morning.’

‘I cannot believe this is happening to me, and in my own home, too.’ Clementina’s wail of torment rose to fresh heights. ‘My son slandered, accused, and by his own flesh and blood, too. You and I who have always been close, to be parted by the likes of a servant!’

‘The remedy lies in your own hands. Order your son to make a full apology – that is all I ask. That, and an understanding that all members of my household are to be treated with respect by him in the future …

‘To speak plainly,’ Helen sighed, ‘had I sent for the constable, my accusation could well have been one of attempted rape. Elliot must count himself lucky that I care for the good name of the Suttons, otherwise it would need more than an apology to get him out of this!’

‘Rape! You go too far, Helen, even for family! There can be no more said between us save that I will never again accept your hospitality nor set foot in your house.

‘And don’t be too sure I won’t have that keeper of yours up for common assault! We’ll see then who does the apologizing. It might well be me who sends for the police!’

‘Then take my advice, Clemmy; think about it. Wait until the scratches on his face heal and his bruises are gone, otherwise they’re going to take some explaining away – even to our amiable constable!’ With studied disinterest, Helen Sutton drew on her gloves. ‘I will see myself out. Goodbye, my dear.’

‘Dearest! What is it?’ Giles Sutton offered his arm to the woman who stepped uncertainly from the carriage. ‘You are shaking. What happened to upset you so? And why didn’t you leave it to me as I said you should?’

‘I don’t know, and that’s a fact.’ Wearily she unpinned her hat and removed her gloves. ‘And yes, I should have left it to you, Giles, though I thought Clemmy would have listened to reason. Oh, family squabbles are so very distasteful …’

‘Squabbles? You had words?’ Giles guided his mother to a chair, calling over his shoulder for a tray of tea.

‘Words? I asked for an apology from Elliot and was told it will not be offered. So I was obliged to tell her that I will not receive her son and that he may not even set foot on Rowangarth land until it is – offered to you, Giles,’ she sighed. ‘Whereupon your aunt said that neither would she come to Rowangarth, either. When will she ever learn that Elliot is heading for trouble if he carries on as he is? That’s what upsets me so.’

‘Mama dear, Elliot is Uncle Edward’s problem, not yours. And what is more, I’ll lay odds that he’ll turn up this afternoon bearing flowers and chocolates and apologizing charmingly. Because that’s what he is – a charmer. And he can’t bear it when a woman doesn’t fall flat at his feet.’

‘Elliot is not a charmer. Elliot is selfish and spoiled and a womanizer and where he’ll end up is anybody’s guess! Don’t make excuses for him, Giles. You lean over backwards to find good in everyone, and there is no good at all in that young man. What is more, I as good as said so to his mother. I also told her that Elliot would be treated like a poacher if he’s caught in Brattocks Wood again. I said the keepers would pepper his backside.’

‘Dearest, you are priceless!’ He threw back his head and laughed his delight. ‘How Dwerryhouse would welcome the chance to do just that!’

‘Oh, dear. I made a mess of it, didn’t I?’ The smallest smile lifted the corners of her mouth. ‘Clemmy is most put out. She swept past me in a fury as I left, taking the stairs two at a time, yelling for Elliot at the top of her voice. I’m only sorry it will make trouble for poor Edward. Thank you, Mary,’ she smiled at the parlourmaid who placed a tray at her elbow. ‘This is exactly what I need.’

‘A message from Miss Julia,’ Mary smiled, hand on the door knob. ‘She said to tell you that she and the doctor are out walking, but they’ll be back in good time for lunch. Will that be all, milady?’ she murmured, noting at once the hand that shook as it lifted the pot.

‘Thank you, Mary – yes.’

What, wondered the parlourmaid as she closed the door behind her, had happened at Pendenys that her ladyship should come back so agitated? Because William had said she’d left in great haste and never a sign of Mrs Clementina to see her off. William noticed everything.

But it was all on account of that Mr Elliot and what happened in Brattocks. Mary frowned. A bad ‘un, that’s what he was, who’d come to a sticky end. And what was more, Mrs Shaw would agree with her when she told her how upset her ladyship was.

‘Oh dear,’ Helen whispered, when they were alone again. ‘I shall have to tell Miss Clitherow. She won’t like it one bit. And had you thought that, if Elliot doesn’t come to dinner, neither will his mother, and no matter what he thinks to the contrary, your Uncle Edward will, through loyalty, be absent too.’

‘And shall you mind? At least without Elliot there won’t be an atmosphere.’

‘Not one jot shall I mind.’ She was fortified, now, by the tea and the comfort of her own fireside. ‘But had you thought that three refusals will mean we will be sitting thirteen to dinner, and that I mind about very much.’

‘Yes. I see …’ No one ever sat thirteen at table. ‘Mind, there is a way out of it. Ask Julia’s doctor to fill a space. You know you’ve taken to him, Mama, and it seems pretty serious between the two of them, so you’ll have to introduce him to friends sooner or later.’

‘What a good idea! He’d have to stay the night, though,’ she frowned. ‘Do you think he’d mind?’

‘Not a bit – and Julia would love it.’

‘But what if he has other plans? He might not want to.’

‘He’ll want to,’ Giles grinned. ‘Julia will see to that! Problem solved, so drink up your tea and forget about Pendenys. It’ll all blow over – just see if it doesn’t. Storm in a teacup, that’s all.’

‘Storm in a teacup,’ Helen nodded. But it wouldn’t blow over, because Clemmy was proud and she would never give in – not where Elliot was concerned. This morning, in only the space of a few minutes, a deep and wide chasm had opened up between the Garth Suttons and the Place Suttons and she dreaded to think where it might end. ‘Soon blow over,’ she said with a brightness she far from felt. ‘A lot of fuss about nothing, but for all that we’ll ask Doctor MacMalcolm to dinner on Friday – to please Julia …’

9

‘Elliot, damn you, where are you?’

Clementina Sutton took the stairs two at a time, shaking with fury, cursing the stays and petticoats and folds of skirt that impeded her undignified haste. First Mrs Mounteagle, and now her sister-in-law, and all because of Elliot and his stupidity!

‘Where are you, boy!’ For two pins she would tan his hide as he deserved. She could do much worse for the shame he had heaped upon her! She would be an outcast, the laughing-stock of local society, and far, far worse, she would have to endure the ill-disguised sniggers of her servants who would glory in her humiliation. ‘Get out of that bed!’