the other side of town where the navigation disappeared between the hill slopes. As they rested on a dry-stone wall, they saw riders approaching. There were two, and their horses slowed on the steep, rutted track to the house.
Harriet recognized one horse and its rider. ‘It’s Matt back already. Do you know who is with him?’
‘That’s Cousin Hesley,’ Olivia said quietly.
Harriet glanced at her. ‘Aren’t you pleased to see him?’
‘No. He pulls my hair and pinches me.’
‘Surely not. He is a young gentleman.’
‘He whips me, too, with his riding crop.’
‘He gives you punishment?’
‘Only when I get in his way. Then he laughs at me.’
Harriet frowned at the idea of such thoughtless behaviour. She reached across for Olivia’s hand and said, ‘We shall show him how grown-up you are now, and then he will treat you as a lady.’
They continued to watch as a cart laden with travelling boxes and sacks trundled a few hundred yards behind the riders. Cousin Hesley had brought provisions with him as well as luggage, but Harriet wondered why he had returned from his shooting and hunting.
‘We had better hurry back,’ she suggested. ‘Mrs Cookson will need our help.’
But Mrs Cookson sent them to the schoolroom with game pie and pickles for their tea, saying,‘The gentlemen are receiving visitors later. If I were you I’d stay out of sight until tomorrow.’
During the evening Harriet saw from her window several riders arrive. They were smartly clothed with fine coats, boots, and tall hats. Before long they were making a lot of noise in the drawing room.
After tea, she taught Olivia the words to more hymns and they sang them together as best they could without any music. This helped to drown the shouting downstairs and soon her pupil was sleepy from their earlier long walk. When Harriet went to fetch hot water from the kitchen, she hurried past the dining room.
Mrs Cookson was nowhere to be found and had left untidy debris from the gentlemen’s cold supper on the table. She put the food in the pantry, took the dirty pots to the scullery and wiped down the tabletop. The fire was low, but the water in the range boiler was still hot. She filled a ewer and hastened upstairs.
After Olivia had gone to bed, Harriet read, as she did on most evenings. She looked forward to this time and had found several books in the master’s library to occupy her. She sat by the window and lit a candle when the light faded. The noise downstairs lessened and she heard horses’ hoofs on the cobbles in the yard as, finally, the gentlemen left. She put down her book to watch them.
Young Hesley was out there, in his shirt sleeves and waistcoat, holding a lantern. When he turned he looked up at her window and Harriet drew back, wishing she had extinguished her candle. A few minutes later he walked into the schoolroom, closing the door behind him.
He was a handsome fellow, she thought, with the tall, straight stance and good features of his grandfather. But he carried a horsewhip in one hand and a silver hip flask in the other. His swagger made her nervous. His dress was dishevelled and she guessed he had been drinking all afternoon and evening.
‘So you’re the governess?’ he said. ‘Miss Trent.’ He spoke her name with a mild scorn that she found disrespectful.
‘Please be quiet, sir. Olivia is sleeping.’
‘Is she now? Just you and me, then?’
‘You will be good enough to leave my schoolroom, sir.’
‘It’s my schoolroom.’
‘Sir, you are intoxicated!’
‘And you are not.’ He offered her the flask.‘Join me, governess.’
‘No, sir.’
He flicked his whip across the table leg.‘I said join me, damn you!’
Harriet jumped, shocked by his language and behaviour. She moved to the door, intending to hold it open for him to leave. But as she neared him he snaked an arm about her waist and pulled her close.
At first she was angry that he gave no thought to his sleeping cousin, but then
Harriet recognized one horse and its rider. ‘It’s Matt back already. Do you know who is with him?’
‘That’s Cousin Hesley,’ Olivia said quietly.
Harriet glanced at her. ‘Aren’t you pleased to see him?’
‘No. He pulls my hair and pinches me.’
‘Surely not. He is a young gentleman.’
‘He whips me, too, with his riding crop.’
‘He gives you punishment?’
‘Only when I get in his way. Then he laughs at me.’
Harriet frowned at the idea of such thoughtless behaviour. She reached across for Olivia’s hand and said, ‘We shall show him how grown-up you are now, and then he will treat you as a lady.’
They continued to watch as a cart laden with travelling boxes and sacks trundled a few hundred yards behind the riders. Cousin Hesley had brought provisions with him as well as luggage, but Harriet wondered why he had returned from his shooting and hunting.
‘We had better hurry back,’ she suggested. ‘Mrs Cookson will need our help.’
But Mrs Cookson sent them to the schoolroom with game pie and pickles for their tea, saying,‘The gentlemen are receiving visitors later. If I were you I’d stay out of sight until tomorrow.’
During the evening Harriet saw from her window several riders arrive. They were smartly clothed with fine coats, boots, and tall hats. Before long they were making a lot of noise in the drawing room.
After tea, she taught Olivia the words to more hymns and they sang them together as best they could without any music. This helped to drown the shouting downstairs and soon her pupil was sleepy from their earlier long walk. When Harriet went to fetch hot water from the kitchen, she hurried past the dining room.
Mrs Cookson was nowhere to be found and had left untidy debris from the gentlemen’s cold supper on the table. She put the food in the pantry, took the dirty pots to the scullery and wiped down the tabletop. The fire was low, but the water in the range boiler was still hot. She filled a ewer and hastened upstairs.
After Olivia had gone to bed, Harriet read, as she did on most evenings. She looked forward to this time and had found several books in the master’s library to occupy her. She sat by the window and lit a candle when the light faded. The noise downstairs lessened and she heard horses’ hoofs on the cobbles in the yard as, finally, the gentlemen left. She put down her book to watch them.
Young Hesley was out there, in his shirt sleeves and waistcoat, holding a lantern. When he turned he looked up at her window and Harriet drew back, wishing she had extinguished her candle. A few minutes later he walked into the schoolroom, closing the door behind him.
He was a handsome fellow, she thought, with the tall, straight stance and good features of his grandfather. But he carried a horsewhip in one hand and a silver hip flask in the other. His swagger made her nervous. His dress was dishevelled and she guessed he had been drinking all afternoon and evening.
‘So you’re the governess?’ he said. ‘Miss Trent.’ He spoke her name with a mild scorn that she found disrespectful.
‘Please be quiet, sir. Olivia is sleeping.’
‘Is she now? Just you and me, then?’
‘You will be good enough to leave my schoolroom, sir.’
‘It’s my schoolroom.’
‘Sir, you are intoxicated!’
‘And you are not.’ He offered her the flask.‘Join me, governess.’
‘No, sir.’
He flicked his whip across the table leg.‘I said join me, damn you!’
Harriet jumped, shocked by his language and behaviour. She moved to the door, intending to hold it open for him to leave. But as she neared him he snaked an arm about her waist and pulled her close.
At first she was angry that he gave no thought to his sleeping cousin, but then
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