Meridon

32

I cried off from the ball that night, from the visit and from Maria’s supper party. I pleaded sick and offered as evidence my sore throat and my hot forehead. Lady Clara put her cool hand against my head and said that I might be excused tonight but tomorrow I must be well because the Princess Caterina was giving a luncheon party and we had managed to get an invitation. I nodded and I submitted to being dressed in my nightdress and wrapper and confined to the stuffy little bedroom with a bowl of soup and a pastry and some fruit.

I tried to read one of Lady Clara’s novels but I found it heavy going. It was by a man called Fielding and I was angry with him because the chapter headings at the top of the pages did not tell me what was happening in the story. They were no use for me, who only wanted to appear as if I had read the book.

For some reason I thought of the bills from the bank and took the fancy to look at them again. The key to the drawer was in the top drawer, where I always kept it. The drawer unlocked easily and slid open. It moved smoothly as if it were lightly laden.

It was lightly laden. I had given Perry most of my gold in the morning, and the eleven folded bills of £3,000 each were missing.

I said, ‘Oh,’ very softly, and I stood still for a little while, then I pulled up the pretty white and gold chair and sat before the table and looked at the empty drawer.

I thought of the maid – but she had been with the Haverings for years and Lady Clara’s jewels alone were worth far more. I thought of the kitchenmaid who had helped me to get Perry to bed, but she was not allowed upstairs. I thought of the footmen, but they were rarely upstairs and never in my bedroom.

No one entered my bedroom except Lady Clara, my maid, myself and Perry.

I had known it was Perry as soon as I saw the drawer was empty. I had been trying to avoid knowing that it was him.

I sat very still and quiet and thought for a little while.

He was a gambler. I had seen gamblers before. Not like my da who did it for a living, and not like men I had seen who did it for fun. For some men it is a lust worse than drink when it gets them. They cannot leave it alone. They believe themselves lucky and they bet on one game after another. They don’t care what the game is – the bones or the cards, horses, cock-fighting, the dogs, badger-baiting – it is all alike to them. Their faces sweat and get red, their eyes get brighter when they are gaming. They look like men about to have a woman. They look like starving men excited by food. They were a blessing to Da for you can cheat them over and over again when they are mad to win.

I was afraid Perry was one of them.

I was not even angry.

I suppose I knew he could not help himself. I suppose that inside I was still a pauper and the thick wads of paper money never really felt as if they belonged to me. I think also that my heart was not in this marriage, nor in the life I was leading. Rich or poor, wed or single, she was not here. I could not see that it mattered. And I had very low expectations of Perry.

I had known he was a drinker. I had thought he might be a gambler. If I had been asked, I could have predicted that he would steal from me, or from his mama, or from anyone who was close to him and ready to trust him.

But something had to be done about it. I would have to see Perry, I would have to tell Mr Fortescue, I would have to tell Lady Clara.

I sighed. My sore throat was no better and my head was aching from weariness. I walked across the room to my bed and thought I would lie down and rest, wait for Perry to come in and then speak to him.

I must have dozed then, for I next stirred when the clocks struck three, and a little after that I heard a stumble and a bump on the carpeted stairs. I raised my head but I did not move. Then in the firelight I saw the handle of the door turn, very very slowly.

Peregrine staggered into the room.

I lay still and did not say a word. I half closed my eyes and watched him through my eyelashes. He took a half step inside the room and shut the door behind him.

‘Sssshhh,’ he said to himself; and giggled.

I lay in silence, waiting for what would come next. The drunken repentance, the blustering explanation, the tears, the promises to reform.

He stepped quietly over to my dressing-table and there was a sudden scuffle as he collided with the chair.

‘Careful!’ he cautioned himself loudly. ‘Not too much noise now! Don’t want to wake her up! She’s going to have a surprise in the morning!’

I opened my eyes a little wider. I had not expected Perry to be joyful. I had thought he had come back for the last ten guineas, perhaps for my jewels.

In the flickering light from the dying fire I saw him pulling something out of his pocket, pieces of paper, and then I heard the chink of coins.

‘Perry, what on earth are you doing?’ I demanded and sat upright in bed.

He jumped like a deer.

‘Damme, Sarah! Don’t shout at me like that when I’m trying to give you a surprise!’ he said.

‘You’ve already given me one,’ I said tightly. ‘You’ve robbed me, Perry. There’s £33,000 in bills made out to me missing from that drawer, and I know you took them.’

‘These you mean?’ Perry said joyfully. I reached over for my candle and lit it. He was waving a sheaf of papers at me. I squinted against the sudden light. They were the same ones.

‘You brought them back?’ I asked in surprise. ‘You didn’t gamble?’

‘I won!’ Perry declared.

He staggered over to the bed and caught at one of the bedposts. He pushed his hands deep into his pockets and shovelled out papers and coins. ‘I won and won and won!’ he said. He giggled delightedly and spilled coins and notes of hand over my bed.

‘I have an unbeatable system,’ he said. ‘An unbreakable system. I have an unbreatable system an unbeakable system a beakless system, a breathless system!’

‘How much?’ I asked, a gambler’s daughter again.

Perry put my notes to one side and shovelled out the rest of his pockets and we made piles on the counterpane of coins, and notes of hand, and paper money.

Altogether it came to something like £22,000.

‘Perry,’ I said, awed.

He nodded, beaming at me. ‘Unbreatheable!’ he said, with satisfaction.

We were silent for a moment.

‘You shouldn’t have taken my money,’ I said.

He blinked at me. ‘I had to, Sarah,’ he said. ‘I’d have asked you, but you weren’t here. I had to. Mama was talking of wearing her diamonds to present you at Court – I had to have money.’

I frowned. ‘What do your mama’s diamonds have to do with…’ then I broke off. ‘Have you lost them at play?’ I asked.

‘Pawned,’ he said gloomily. ‘I had to get them back, Sarah, or I’d have been really sunk. She keeps me on such a short allowance I can never manage to stay out of debt. And a little while ago I found the key to her strongbox. It was before the Season started and I knew she wouldn’t need them for months. So I prigged them, and pawned them.’

He paused gloomy for a moment, but then his face brightened. ‘And now I’ll be able to get them back!’ he said delightedly.

He glanced at my face. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ he asked.

‘You’re a thief,’ I said. ‘A thief and a drunkard and a gambler.’

Perry looked contrite. ‘I did win, though,’ he offered.

‘I’m no better,’ I said. ‘I was a thief and a card-sharper and a horse-trader. You are what you have to be, Perry. But don’t ever steal from me again.’

His face brightened. ‘I’ll make a promise with you,’ he offered. ‘I will never steal from you again, I will never steal from Mama again, and I will never pawn anything of hers or yours again. It has been dreadful, Sarah, I thought I’d not be able to get them back and then she would have known!’

I nodded. I could imagine how afraid Perry must have been.

‘All right,’ I said. ‘I hold you to your promise. You must never steal from me or your mama again. And I’ll never steal from you or cheat you.’

He put out his long-fingered soft hand and we shook firmly.

‘Done,’ I said. ‘Now get your winnings off my bed, I need to sleep, I have a throat like charcoal.’

Peregrine gathered up his papers and crammed them back into his pockets. My bank bills he counted out carefully on to my dressing-table and he added to them the guineas he had borrowed from me.

Then he came to the bedside again and leaned over me. I could feel his warm brandy-sweet breath on my face as he leaned over.

‘Good-night Sarah,’ he said softly and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Good-night, my best of friends.’

I cat-napped after he left me; once, I turned and was wideawake and found I was chuckling, thinking of Perry coming into my room, his pockets bursting as if he had been sharping cards all night. Then I heard the clock strike seven and I got up, splashed cold water on my face, and slipped into my riding habit.

Only then did I remember that it was Thursday, and Will was coming to ride with me today.

I brushed my hair in a hurry and coiled it up on my head, then I pinned on my hat and went to the door. I ran down the stairs pulling on my gloves and the kitchenmaid met me at the front door, her face all grimy and her hands black with soot from the fires.

‘Beg pardon, m’m,’ she said, dipping a curtsey.

I nodded to her and opened the door myself and slipped out. There was a figure of a man, holding two horses waiting in the street opposite the front door. But it was not Gerry the groom there, waiting for me holding his horse and Sea. It was Will, standing with the reins of his bay horse in one hand, and Sea’s reins in the other.

‘Oh Will!’ I said and I beamed at him.

‘I’m freezing,’ he said crossly. ‘I’ve been waiting here for half an hour, Sarah, and that softy maid of yours wouldn’t find you and tell you I was here.’

I chuckled and ran down the steps and took the reins. ‘You’re a weakling,’ I said. ‘This is just bracing.’

‘Bracing!’ Will said under his breath. He cupped his hands and threw me ungently up into the saddle. Sea sidled and I patted his neck.

‘Yes,’ I said provocatively. ‘If you had lived in a wagon like I did you’d count this good weather. But you’re a soft gorgio you are, Will Tyacke.’

Will scowled and swung into his own saddle and then his brown face crumpled and he laughed aloud. ‘Why are you so damned full of chirp?’ he asked. ‘What have you got to be so glad about?’

‘Precious little,’ I said. The horses fell into step side by side and I turned and smiled at Will. ‘I’ve had some trouble, I waked all night. But it’s come all right now, and I’m glad to be out of that house, and with you. I’m so glad to see you.’

His glance at me was warm. ‘I’d wait all night in a snowstorm to see you and count myself lucky,’ he said. ‘I rode up in darkness last night to make sure I’d be here in time. Sarah, you’re the first thing worth seeing this week.’

I put my hand out to him in a swift instinctive gesture, and he did not kiss it like a lover but took it in a firm gentle clasp, as if we were shaking on a deal. Then his horse shifted and we let go.

‘What’s your trouble?’ he asked.

‘Tell me about Wideacre first,’ I said. ‘And how did your meeting of the corporations go?’

‘All’s well on Wideacre,’ he said. ‘The oats and barley is sown, we’re setting to the hedging and ditching. The root crops are coming up. All’s well. I’m bid send you people’s love and to tell you that we all want you home.’ He straightened a little in the saddle as we came down the road towards the park. ‘They elected me chairman of the National Association of Corporations,’ he said. ‘I was proud. I’m honoured to be asked to serve.’

‘Oh, well done!’ I said. Then I paused. ‘What does it mean?’ I asked.

Will smiled. ‘Oh, little enough,’ he said. ‘We will meet every two months or so for debate and discussion, but we have more than enough trouble with spies and the government to want to do more than that.’

‘Spies?’ I asked blankly.

Will nodded. ‘They think they see traitors and Boney’s agents in every bush,’ he said. ‘It’s the way of this government – aye and others! They can’t bear to think that they might be in the wrong. They can’t bear to think that another Englishman might disagree with them. So they will only believe that if you disagree with them you have to be a paid spy, or a foreigner.’ He paused for a moment. ‘They think they own the world,’ he said simply. ‘The landlords and those in power. They think they own what it is to be an Englishman. If you think differently from them they make you feel like you don’t belong in their country. It’s not their country, but they won’t hear a word of dissent.’

His face was dark. ‘It’s a nuisance,’ he said. ‘I have all my letters opened and read before I ever see them, and it makes them late. Since the last meeting there were two men prowling around Wideacre asking people in the village if I was a rick-burner!’ Will snorted. ‘Damn fools,’ he said.

‘I never knew,’ I said. The enemies of my childhood had been the thief-takers and the gamekeepers. I did not know there were gamekeepers of ideas too.

‘They make little difference,’ Will said. ‘They sit by the door and every single thing you say they scribble down in their little books and then they run off and copy it all out fair for their masters to read. Everyone makes sure they speak civil and say not a word against the government or the king. And I never write if I can send a message.’

‘Oh,’ I said blankly.

‘But it was a good meeting,’ Will said. ‘There were some northern gentlemen there who are planning experimental farms in the north. One of them took me out to dine afterwards. We talked till late into the night. He wants to set up an experimental farm outside his potteries for the workers. I was telling him about the children’s school on Wideacre, and about how we farm. He’s coming down to see it when he’s next in the south. He seemed a likely man.’

I nodded. I was dimly aware of a world outside my knowledge, outside my understanding, where neither a gypsy brat nor a pretty young lady would be of much account, and for a moment I envied Will his contact with a weightier world.

‘That’s enough of me,’ Will said abruptly. ‘What of you? You look a bit pale, Sarah. And what of this trouble of yours?’

‘Not my trouble,’ I said. ‘It’s Perry. You were right about his drinking, he does take too much. But the fool must needs think he can gamble, too. He stole some bank bills of mine, and as if that weren’t bad enough he won handsomely with them. He was in my bedroom last night scattering gold on my bed as if I were a princess. It’s all right now, he’s brought my money back, and he’s won enough to keep himself for months. But I’ll never be able to teach him not to gamble if he’s a lucky one!’

Will pulled his horse up so sharply that it gave a little half-rear. ‘He did what?’ he demanded, his face white with shock, his brown eyes blazing.

I lost my smile. ‘Took some money of mine, and then won with it,’ I said lightly.

We said nothing for a moment and then Will loosened his reins and let his horse go forward.

‘Don’t you mind?’ he asked me. I could hear the anger behind his voice but he was keeping his tone steady until I told him more.

I chuckled. ‘Oh for God’s sake, Will, remember where I came from!’ I said. ‘I’ve lived among gamblers and thieves all my life. I’m angry that he should steal from me, but I had the money back within the day…and I can’t help but find it funny that he should win so well! Thousands and thousands, Will! He was shovelling money out of his pocket all over my counterpane.’

‘You were in bed?’ Will asked sharply.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘This all happened last night when he came home from gambling.’

‘And he just walked into your room?’ he demanded.

I pulled Sea up and faced him. ‘We are to be married,’ I said reasonably. ‘He didn’t come in to see me, he came to put the money back. I happened to be awake.’ I remembered Perry crashing into the chair and warning himself to be quiet and I smiled.

Will saw the smile and it fired his anger. ‘Goddammit, Sarah, you must be mad!’ he said loudly. ‘You are still talking about this damned marriage as if you meant it! If you go on down this road you will find yourself married in very truth and unable to get out of it.

‘For God’s sake, Sarah, tell me that you see now the crew you’re among. Lord Peregrine is a drunkard and a gamester and a thief into the bargain. His ma can do nothing more with him and so she lets him drink himself to death and damnation as quick as he can, and neither of those sluts his sisters are worthy to tie your laces. He’s cheated you, and he’s used your money to pay for his gambling, and you’re not even wed yet!’

Will’s voice had risen to a shout, and he shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts and then he said tightly, ‘You’d be a damn fool to go further with this, Sarah, and you know it. Promise me now that you’ll go back and tell Lady Clara that he’s stolen from you and that you are withdrawing from the betrothal. Write to Mr Fortescue and tell him what’s to do, and then order out the carriage and come home. I’ll wait to escort you. Stay any longer in London and you’ll be robbed blind.’

I shook my head. ‘You don’t understand,’ I said. ‘You’ve never understood me.’

‘Don’t understand!’ Will was thunderingly angry now. ‘Do you think I’m blind or as stupid as your pretty lordling? I’ve seen the quarterly accounts, I’ve seen the allowance you have! I’ve seen the bills come in! And while we’re mending and making do on Wideacre with broken ploughshares spliced and used again, season after season, and while we have old carthorses pulling heavy loads and no new stock at all this year, you’re preening before a glass to go out dancing with a gamester!’

‘Nonsense!’ I said heatedly. ‘I’ve spent very little!’

But Will would not listen. ‘You’re a damned parasite!’ he said roundly. ‘And he’s a worse one. He’s not even bedded you and the pizzle has hold of your money while you sit up there, on your horse, and tell me you’re not coming home! By God if I could pull you off the horse and make you walk home I would!’

‘Don’t you threaten me, Will Tyacke!’ I said as angry as he. ‘I’m not one of your alehouse drabs. I didn’t come to you for help, I can manage my own affairs. I don’t overspend and I don’t listen to a bawling from any man, least of all you.’

‘You don’t listen to anything!’ Will said. ‘You don’t listen to Mr Fortescue when he warned you off them, you don’t listen to me. You don’t even listen to your own common sense when the man has robbed you before marriage and you know his whole family will rob you later. Any woman with anything in her head but vanity and wind would call off the wedding and run for her life away from such a band.’

‘The wedding’s to be brought forward!’ I said, as angry as he and picking on the one piece of news which would make him angrier. ‘We’re to wed and be home on Wideacre by Christmas! So there, Will Tyacke, and don’t you dare try to tell me what to do!’

‘Brought the wedding forward?’ Will looked at me open-mouthed. Then he leaned forward and put his hand on Sea’s reins and drew the horse closer to his own.

‘Sarah, by God, I don’t know what game you’re playing,’ he said low-voiced. ‘I thought you’d taken up with them so they would take you into society, then I thought you were tied to him because you’d given up on yourself and you didn’t care what happened to you. Now you tell me he’s creeping into your bedroom and you’ve brought the wedding forward…’ he broke off. Then he suddenly dropped Sea’s reins as if they had burned him. ‘You whore!’ he suddenly yelled. ‘You stupid little whore! He’s bedded you, and you’re handing over your money and your land to the first man who’s ever looked twice at you!’

I gasped. ‘How dare you!’ I started but Will interrupted me.

‘Thank God I’ll not be there to see it,’ he said. ‘I promised myself I’d stay and see you safe in your home even if you went through with this whore’s deal. I thought you’d need a manager, I thought you’d need advice. I thought you might need help against him, if he raised a hand to you or started robbing you.’ Will scowled. ‘The more fool me!’ he said bitterly. ‘I’ve met your sort before. They like a fool in the bedchamber, and they don’t care what he does to them. They’ve no pride and no sense. I’ll leave you to your flirting and your ruin. I’ll be gone, and I’ll never see Wideacre again.

‘There’ve been Tyackes on Wideacre since it had that name. A damn sight longer than the cursed Laceys, but you’ve won now. I give you joy of it. Little Lord Perry will have it mortgaged and lost within a year, mark my words. And then you’ll be Lady Sarah of No-Acre, and see how he looks to you then!’

‘Where would you go?’ I demanded. ‘Who’d have you manage them into bankruptcy, to teach their workers your sort of manners? Don’t come to me for a character for I’ll give you none!’

Will snorted with rage. ‘You know so little!’ he said witheringly. ‘And you think yourself so clever! I’ll go where I’m wanted, to Mr Norris’s estate in the north. And I’ll take a woman with me. I’ll take Becky, Becky and the children with me, I’ll wed her, and we’ll settle there. And if I don’t see you till you rot in hell it’ll be too soon for me.’

‘Becky?’

Will turned and his smile was mean. ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘Becky. The woman your mama in-law flung out of her cottage half-starved with three bairns. She’s my lover, didn’t you know? She lives with me with her bairns. I’ll marry her and take her with me. I was a fool not to do so at the first. She’s a lovely girl, warm and full of love to give.’ His cold eyes raked over me, over my rich green riding habit, my white face under the hat. ‘She’s a proud girl,’ he said. ‘She deserves the best and she knows it. She loves me, she adores my touch. She wants to give me a son. I’ll be happy with her in a way I would never be with anyone else. And she is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever had in my bed, or ever seen.’

I raised my riding crop and brought it down with one wicked slash across his face. He snatched it off me and he broke it across his knee and threw the two pieces towards me. Sea shied and reared high, frightened by the noise and the anger, and I had to cling to his mane to stay on.

‘I hate you,’ I shouted. I was choked with abuse which would not come.

‘I hate you,’ Will replied instantly. ‘I’ve been a fool for months over you, but every time I have been with you I went home to Becky and she took me into her arms and loved me, and I knew that was where I belonged.’

‘You go back to her then,’ I said. My voice was choked with anger, and my cheeks were wet though I was not crying. ‘You go back to her and tell her that she is welcome to have you. I don’t want you, I never have wanted you. You’re a dirty common working man and I’ve seen thousands like you everywhere I have ever lived. You’re all the same. You’re all boastful and braggart, randy as dogs and weepy as chavvies. I’d rather have Perry than you any day. So go back to your slut, Will Tyacke, and her dirty little bastards. Go to your stupid farm in the north and rob and ruin another landowner. I don’t want to see you ever again!’

I wheeled Sea around and thundered away, forgetting all about the rule of not galloping in the park. I raged against Will, shouting abuse and swearing out loud, all the way back to the gate, and then as we trotted through the streets I swore under my breath, the rich filthy language of my childhood. I stormed up the steps to the front door and hammered on it loud as a bailiff. The footman gaped at me and I ordered him to take Sea around to the stables for me in a voice which made him leap to do my bidding. Then I raced up the stairs, two at a time, to my room and slammed the door behind me. I was so angry I could not think what to do or what to say.

I leaned back against the door, my hat squashed against the wooden panels and I shut my eyes. They felt hot in my hot face. Then I remembered what he had said about Becky, and I found I had clenched my hands into fists and I was cramming them both against my lips to stop me screaming in rage. He had told me that he loved her, that he loved her body, that he loved to hold her in his arms, that he was going to marry her.

That last took the rage from me as if I had had the breath knocked out of me with a fall. I thought of him smiling and kissing my wrist and then going back to his cottage where she waited for him. I thought of her three little children around his table, pleased to see him home. I thought of her sitting on his lap in the firelight after the chavvies had gone to bed, then I thought of him holding her in his arms all night long. He had said that she adored his touch.

I stood with my back against my bedroom door staring into the room, silently, for a long time.

I went over to the writing table and I drew a sheet of the expensive notepaper towards me. It was embossed with the Havering crest in gold, and on the right-hand side I spelled out the London address. At Havering Hall they had notepaper with the Sussex address. One day soon I would be the new Lady Havering and all this, two sorts of notepaper and everything, would be mine.

It took me a white, for I could not write swiftly. I had to print the words and many of them were spelled wrong for all I knew. So it did not look as proud and angry as I wished. I wanted to hurt him, to cut him to the heart.

To Will Tyacke,

Your behaviour and language in the park today were not what I expect of one of my farm workers. I would be grateful if you would terminate your work on Wideacre forthwith and leave my land.

Yours faithfully,

Sarah Lacey.

Then I wrote another:

Dear Mr Tyacke,

You have no right to speak to me as you did today, and you know it. I pledged my word months ago to marry Peregrine Havering and of course I intend to hold to that promise. Your own affairs are your own concern. I have no interest in them. If you wish to leave Wideacre I am sure I am very sorry to see you go. If you wish to stay I will accept your apology for speaking in an improper fashion.

Yours faithfully,

Sarah Lacey.

I slid that version to one side and went to look out of the window. Then I turned and went back to the little writing table. I was in an anger hotter than anything I had felt in years, perhaps ever. I could not let it go with formal words.

Dear Will,

How dare you talk to me like you did today!

You must be mad to even dream of speaking to me as you did!

Let me tell you two things. One is that I am your employer, the squire of Wideacre and shortly to be Lady Havering. One word from me, one word and you don’t work in Sussex any more. And don’t think that you could get work elsewhere. There isn’t an employer in the country who would take you on after I tell them that you abused me to my face, and in the coarsest of terms.

I have no interest whatsoever in your messy little intrigues with your woman, nor in your opinions. I want you gone from Wideacre at once, but before you leave I insist that you come to London and see me at once. At once, Will.

Sarah Lacey.

I sat with that version before me for a long time. Then I sighed and pulled forward another sheet of paper. The anger was seeping away from me.

Dear Will,

I am angry with you, and I am sad. You are right and I am a fool. I have lived my life here in London, and also with them at the Hall as if I were blind, as if I had forgotten where I was raised and what mattered most to me.

You don’t understand how it is with me and Peregrine, and I let you misunderstand me. He comes to my room because he is like my brother, like a little brother to me. I can’t withdraw from the marriage – he needs me, and I like how I am when I am with him. I like to give him the care and courage he needs. I have never given anyone anything, except one person once. And I failed her at the last. Now there is someone who needs the things I can do, who looks to me for help. I want to be good to him Will. That cannot be wrong. Forgive me, it is truly what I want. I am afraid it is all I am fit for.

Your friend,

Sarah.

The clocks chimed softly; it was eleven already. I should be changing for breakfast at noon, and then I should change again to go out to the princess’s luncheon. I swallowed experimentally. My throat was sore. It was not sore enough to let Lady Clara excuse me from lunching with the princess. I put my hand to my forehead. It was hot, but not hot enough. I would have to go. I would write a letter and put it in the post for Will before I went.

I thought of him riding back to Sussex, in a rage; alone. And I wanted to speak with him, to take back the things I had said which I had not meant. I thought of the weal of the riding whip which had come up on his cheek and though I had known blows and bruises a-plenty, I felt that this single blow was the worst I had ever known. And it had been from my hand.

I was too rough, I was too wild. I was wrong for Perry, I was a foul-mouthed little pauper, no match for Perry’s delicacy. But I was too hard for Will. It was all wrong. I belonged where I had been raised, down among the fighters and the swearers, where you lived by your wits and your fists, and you never loved anybody.

Dear Will,

You are right, they have trapped me. I thought I was so clever and I thought I was winning my way through to the life I wanted to lead. But I was wrong and they caught me while I thought I was catching them. They have caught me – all of them. The Haverings and the Quality and the lords and ladies and the life we live in London. I have been a fool Will and I have to pay for it.

Not Perry. I know you hate him because he is what he is – a drunkard and a gamester and a fool. But he is also like a child, he is not a cheat. He loves me Will, and he needs me. And his love for me and his trust in me will make me a better person, a kinder woman. If I stay with Perry I may learn to love him as a woman ought to be able to love a man. If I stay with Perry I think I can rescue him from his folly, and myself from my coldness. I think I can get him away, away to the country, and we will find some way of treating each other with tenderness and love. He will do as I wish. He will run Havering as I order, and I shall run Wideacre. And then we can do the things which you have wanted all along. I know I was wrong to suspect you, and James Fortescue. I have met Quality rogues now, and I understand how they work. I know you are not liars and cheats, not you, not James, not all the people at Acre. I shall come home to you, with Perry, and everything can be different. We can run the whole Havering-Wideacre estate as you would wish, as a corporation, and you will see that Perry is a good man. You will come to like him Will.

I am sorry that I have been so foolish about you, and about Becky. I will try to be glad about that, glad that you love her. I have been selfish I think. I did not know that there was that between you, I should have guessed – I lived in a wagon long enough! I just did not think. I am sorry. I feel foolish that I did not think, but I am glad that she loves you, and that you love her. I am sorry that I was selfish in asking you to come to London to see me as I did. I was lonely here, in this big city, and I wanted to hear your voice and see your face. But I should have realized that you loved her. I think I have never understood love like that. I warned you quick enough not to love me didn’t I? I was a fool not to know that you would find someone else. I am glad she loves you, and that you are happy. I hope she will let me come and see her children and you when I am married and come to Wideacre.

Your friend,

Sarah.

I paused then, and put my head in my hands for a long time. I was a slow writer and that muddle of thoughts had taken me an hour to spell out. I flushed with shame at the thought that Will might write very well for all I knew and he might think me ignorant and stupid not to be able to loop my letters and scrawl all over the page.

But then I heard noon strike and my maid tapped on the door and I called for her to go away, that I would be down for breakfast in the instant. And then I laid my head on the paper on the writing table and groaned as if I was injured, knifed to the heart. I felt as sick as a horse and I could not think why. When I thought of the red weal on his cheek and him telling me of his Becky I wanted to throw up my accounts.

I pulled a sheet of notepaper towards me and I knew I was down below the lies, well below the level of anger and pride. Below even the level of trying to be pleasant about his woman. I was down to where I belonged. Where I had always belonged. And down below that. For I was no longer Mamselle Meridon dancing on horseback who was cold as ice. Now I was no longer Meridon the slut horse-tamer who could make her da spit with rage. I was now someone whose name I did not know who was longing, longing, longing for someone to love. Longing for him.

Dear Will,

This is all wrong.

Please do not promise any more to her. Please come back to London. I do not want to marry Perry. I want to be with you. I have loved you and wanted you from the moment I first saw you, that night at Wideacre. Please come for me at once. I beg your pardon for having struck you. You were right, it is no good here. It is hopeless with Perry.

I am sure she is lovely, but I cannot believe you do not love me, and if you do not come for me now, I do not know what I will do. Please come to me. I love you with all my heart.

Sarah.

I took the six pages of notepaper and I screwed them up into a fat ball. I cast them in the fire and I held the poker and watched them burn. I mashed down the clot of embers so that there was nothing left. I turned my back on the fire, I turned my back on the writing desk.

I could not be betrothed to one man and write like that to another. I could not break faith with Perry, I could not abandon Lady Clara without a word. They had treated me well, by their lights, I could not walk away from them as easily as I had walked in.

I would have to wait, wait and plan. I would have to get free, honourably free, before I wrote to Will, before I thought of him again.

I leaned my forehead against the cold thick glass of my window and looked at the grey sky and thought of Will riding home with the scarlet weal from my whip on his cheek. I had no right to strike him, I had no right to make a claim on him. The letters were burned, I would not write another. I would never write to Will. Not in anger, not in love. Our ways lay by different roads. Perhaps one day he would forgive me for the blow. Perhaps one day he would understand.

I rang my bell for my maid to come and dress me in my morning dress.

I could think of nothing else I could do.