‘The General is so determined that everyone should stay out. But there is Strawberry John. He’s not quite right in the head, that’s why we don’t take much notice of him.’
‘He’s a poacher, you say?’
‘Yes, he does a bit of poaching. People round about are generous to him. They’re sorry for him. He being what you might call two happorth short. Now since you’re so sure you saw the light and the face, I just wonder whether he got in somehow. I’ll speak to Cherry and Mr Jesson. I’ll get them to run him to earth one day and question him. The General would want to know if it’s possible for anyone to get in there … and you can be sure he’ll put a stop to it if he knows what’s going on.’
I felt soothed by the thought that Strawberry John might have got into the castle, for I would not allow Mrs Cherry to convince me that I was a stupid hysterical creature who had imagined the whole thing.
I was beginning to grow sleepy. The warmth of the bed and soothing posset were working.
‘Thank you, Mrs Cherry,’ I said. ‘It was good of you to look after me.’
‘Oh, I’m only doing what the General would wish, my lady. We’ve got to take special care of you … now.’
She tiptoed out and I was soon asleep and did not wake until the sun was streaming into the bedchamber.
The next day I thought I would like to talk over what had happened with someone and I immediately thought of Ella Longridge. There was something about the farmhouse kitchen which was in direct contrast to the castle. Everything there was so simple; I imagined there was nothing in that big and homely room which was not of practical use. There was something direct about both the Longridges—matter-of-fact, down-to-earth, honest, good people.
Of course Richard did not agree with their views, which I knew were against the King in some way, and Richard, as a soldier, would be intensely loyal. It occurred to me that he would support the King even if he disagreed with his policies. Richard was a man who would have a certain standard of behaviour and never diverge from it. Luke Longridge was different. I wondered what he wrote in those articles which his sister had mentioned.
But it was not Luke I felt an urge to see. It was Ella, and the more I thought of that kitchen with the appetizing smell of baking coming from the oven and the sound of ale being poured into a pewter tankard, the more I wanted to be there.
I rode out in the early morning. I would call, spend an hour there and be back in time for dinner, and no one would know that I had been. After all, they had invited me to call when I wished and it might be that when Richard returned he would not wish me to continue the friendship. How friendly could one feel towards a man whom one had challenged to a duel? Perhaps it was not good wifely conduct to seize an opportunity to act against what might well be her husband’s wishes, but I did want the Longridges to know that I at least felt nothing but friendship for them, no matter how their views differed from those of my own family. My mother used to talk a great deal about tolerance. She believed it was a good thing, and that belief was something I had inherited from her.
So I set out and in a short time the farmhouse came into view. I rode into the yard and was about to dismount when I was seized by cramping pains.
I managed to get off my horse, and as I did so I was dizzy and I knew that I could not stand much longer, so I let myself slide to the ground and it was there that a serving-maid found me.
‘You’re ill, mistress,’ she cried and ran into the farmhouse.
Ella came out all concern.
‘Why, it’s Mistress Tolworthy,’ she said. ‘Here, Jane, help me into the house with her.’
I was able to stand and they helped me in, and very soon I was lying on a settle with rugs around me.
The dizziness passed but the pain continued.
‘I don’t know what is happening to me,’ I stammered. ‘I meant to call on you …’
‘Never mind now,’ said Ella. ‘Stay there and rest.’
That was all I wanted to do, and very soon I did know what was happening to me. I was losing my baby.
Ella Longridge put me to bed and sent over to Far Flamstead for Grace, who came and very soon confirmed my fears.
‘You’re safe enough, mistress,’ said Grace. ‘Why, ’twas nothing to speak of. ’Tis just the sorrow of losing it. But at this stage you soon recover and you’ll have more. ’Tis a warning to us, though, that we’ll have to take very special care of you. Must have had a shock like.’
She had brought some of her herb medicines with her, and she said that I shouldn’t move for the rest of that day but I’d be well enough to come home tomorrow, she was sure, although she’d want to see me first.
Ella said that Grace must stay the night and accompany me back the next day. She would feel happier with Grace in the farmhouse.
So there I lay in this plain bedroom with its bare boards and sombre colours, and I thought of what losing my baby would mean. My dreams had evaporated. I had lost the child just as I was becoming sure of its existence. I was glad I had not told my mother and sister; I was sorry that I had told Richard. I would have to write to him now and tell him that I had lost the child.
Ella came and sat by my bed; she brought her sewing with her, not embroidery, which I supposed she would consider frivolous, but the plain material she was stitching into garments for herself and her brother.
She told me how sorry she was that this had happened, and although she was a spinster who had no intention of marrying, she could well understand my feelings.
‘I wonder what went wrong?’ she said.
I told her what had happened the previous night.
‘That explains it,’ she said. ‘The shock must have brought on this miscarriage.’
‘I felt nothing at the time.’
‘I believe it happens like that sometimes. I wonder who was there in the Folly?’
‘You have heard of Strawberry John, have you, Mistress Longridge?’
‘I have. He is a strange-looking man. Very strong, I believe. His father was a very strong man indeed and John inherited that strength. He has this mark on his face and it is easy to identify him because of it. One doesn’t hear of him often. I don’t know where he lives …nobody seems to know.’
‘Mrs Cherry, our housekeeper, suggested that he found some way into the castle.’
‘That seems a very likely explanation. What a pity that you happened to be disturbed by it.’
‘I don’t know what my husband will say when he comes back. He is insistent that no one goes near the castle as it is unsafe.’
‘I dare say he will demolish it.’
‘I don’t know. He feels it would not be right, as his ancestor set such store by it.’
It was comforting talking to Ella and later in the day her brother came in, but as she insisted on my remaining in bed and the Longridges would not think it fitting for me to receive a gentleman in my bedchamber, I did not see him.
I slept peacefully that night and in the morning felt well enough to get up.
Grace pronounced me fit to travel, but Luke Longridge would not hear of my riding, and he took Grace and me back to Far Flamstead in one of the farm carts which was drawn by two horses. He said he would send a man over with my horse and Grace’s later that day.
Mrs Cherry seized on me, and murmuring something about my night’s adventure in the Castle Room which had brought this on, insisted that I go to bed.
I felt a little weak and very depressed, so I allowed her to take me there.
I was indeed sad. I did not realize until now how much I had counted on having my baby. I recalled now the nights in the big bed which had filled me with apprehension and which I had been inclined to forget while Richard was away. In my heart I had said it was worthwhile because I was going to have a baby. But now there was no baby.