‘I’m quite well, dearest.’ But Starling had seen what happened sometimes, when Alice’s heart stuttered like that – had seen her turn pale as milk, and sway on her feet; had seen her faint dead away on three occasions, fits which left her weak and dizzy for days afterwards, and confined her to bed. Miss Alice’s heart is a fragile thing, Bridget told Starling, in serious tones. Do all you can to keep it easy. ‘Look – see! It is Mr Alleyn.’ Starling looked again, and as the figure drew nearer she could clearly recognise Jonathan Alleyn, riding alone.
When Jonathan saw them waiting he urged his horse into a trot, and dismounted in a graceless rush to stand so close to Alice that if either one had moved they would have touched. Neither spoke, and Starling watched in astonishment until Jonathan finally seemed to recover himself, took a step backwards and brought Alice’s fingers to his lips. There was colour high on his slanting cheekbones, and he smiled as though he couldn’t prevent it.
‘Miss Beckwith, how fortunate to chance across you like this.’ Starling wondered who the performance was for, since she knew at once that this meeting was the secret Alice had been keeping. ‘And Starling – how tall you are growing! Why, you’re near to Miss Beckwith’s shoulder now.’
‘Bridget says I’ll be as tall as her within a year, at this rate,’ Starling told him proudly. ‘How came you here, Mr Alleyn? Were you coming to call at the farmhouse?’
‘Well… I had some business in Batheaston, so I happened to be passing and I thought I would call in… but now I find you here, perhaps we could go into the inn for a while?’ he said, as if only then thinking of it. Starling smiled. One did not pass Bathampton on the road from Box to Batheaston.
‘By chance, we had just decided the same thing,’ she said.
‘Come then,’ said Jonathan. Alice was still breathless, and Starling kept tight hold of her hand as they went towards the door.
The George Inn occupied an ancient stone building, huddled and hoary, with tiny leaded windows and cracked chimney pots. It had many chambers inside, all with flagged stone floors worn into sagging curves, and soot-stained walls under low, oppressive ceilings. Jonathan led them to a bench away from any windows, near a hearth that had been swept clean for the coming summer. The other customers in the place were gentleman farmers talking business, travellers on their way into Bath and a few bargemen, who were rougher and poorly dressed. Loud, bawdy laughter broke out nearby, and Jonathan frowned.
‘I wonder if this is indeed the right place for you, Miss Beckwith,’ he said, but she only laughed.
‘I’m not as sensitive as you think me, Mr Alleyn. I like it here. Starling and I have come here before now, and with Bridget sometimes, on holidays.’
‘I ate devilled kidneys here last time, but I didn’t like them at all,’ Starling added.
‘Well, then. We shall be quite comfortable here for a time.’ Jonathan smiled. They ordered some beer, and a plate of lamb chops to share, and Starling sat, a little bored, as the two of them talked.
They talked of Jonathan’s family, and of his home, which was a grand manor house at Box, further to the west. He lived with his mother and his grandfather, since his own father had died when he was very young. They talked of his schooling, and his desire to buy an officer’s commission into the army, which made Alice’s eyes glow with fearful admiration, that he might put himself in harm’s way. ‘My mother is not enamoured with the idea. She would rather I went into the navy, where there are better prospects for promotion and wealth…’
‘But you do not wish it?’ said Alice.
‘I… I am quite ashamed to say it, but the sea makes me terribly ill. The few times I have gone aboard a boat have made me quite sure I never wish to again, if I can help it. Much less commit myself to a career upon it!’
‘But you would follow in the very footsteps of Lord Nelson – he also suffers, I have read. And I’ve heard that such illnesses can pass, once a person becomes accustomed.’
‘So they tell me. But if they are wrong, and I am doomed to feel that wretched every time we set sail – oh, Alice, the very thought makes me quail!’ he said, with a rueful laugh. Starling goggled at him in outrage, but neither one of them seemed to notice that he’d used Alice’s Christian name in a public place. ‘I mean to enrol at Le Marchant’s college at Marlow, and become a cavalry officer.’
‘Marlow? But… it is so far away…’ Alice said quietly.
‘I shall visit home very often, I promise. Very often.’ He spoke earnestly, and for a long moment their eyes stayed locked together, and some unspoken message passed between them that Starling could not read. ‘I mean to… I mean to visit Miss Fallonbrooke, before I go,’ Jonathan said softly. Alice’s eyes grew wide.
‘Who’s Miss Fallonbrooke?’ asked Starling, but they both ignored her. She folded her arms crossly and kicked at the table leg, but they ignored that too.
‘Oh?’ said Alice, and it was more of a breath than a word.
‘I wrote to her…’
‘You wrote to her?’ Alice’s face fell.
‘Only to ask for a meeting, Alice. Only for that. And I made it plain that… that is, in my tone, I sought to convey…’ He broke off, frustrated. ‘I mean to speak to her… of freeing ourselves from the intentions our parents have imposed upon us. I have reason to believe that she finds them as… onerous as I do.’
‘What reasons, Mr Alleyn?’ Alice looked as though she was suffering under some tension she could hardly stand.
‘I had word that… she, too, loves another,’ said Jonathan, gazing at Alice in supplication. For a second, Alice radiated a simple, uncomplicated joy. But then her face clouded again.
‘I shall be nineteen at my next birthday,’ she murmured, sounding inexplicably sad. ‘I pray that the visit… is a success. I pray that what you heard is right, for only she can release you. Only that way can you conduct yourself as a gentleman should.’ Jonathan looked distraught, so Starling fidgeted, kicking her legs some more, and chipped in:
‘How old are you, Mr Alleyn?’
‘I am not quite eighteen, Miss Starling. But I will be soon,’ he said, turning to her, looking relieved at the interruption.
‘I shall be nine very soon. We think.’
‘Nine! No wonder you’re as tall as an elm. And far too big to be frightened of ghosts, I am sure.’
‘Ghosts? What ghosts?’
‘This building was a monastery, in ancient times. Before old King Henry ordered them to disband. I have heard tell that the ghosts of the monks who once lived here still walk the halls and passageways.’
‘In truth, Mr Alleyn?’ Starling was agog.
‘In truth. In fact, I believe I saw one not a minute ago, peering over your shoulder to see if you’d left a lamb chop for him.’ Jonathan smiled, and Starling gasped, craning her head about to check for spectral monks.
‘You mustn’t tease her so!’ Alice admonished, laughing.
‘If a ghost monk sneaks up on me, Alice, can I throw something at him?’
‘Indeed you may, dearest. Be on your guard,’ said Alice, fondly.
When they parted, an hour or so later, Alice waited by the bridge until Mr Alleyn had ridden right out of sight. She watched forlornly, with her arms folded; and when at last he vanished, she sighed.
‘Come then, Starling. Let’s go back and see how Bridget is getting on.’
‘Aren’t we going into Bathampton at all, then?’ Starling was disappointed.
‘Well, we’ve been gone a good long while already… perhaps she might wonder where we are.’
‘And how surprised she’ll be when we tell her Mr Alleyn came riding and found us!’ said Starling. She said it deliberately, to find out what she should and should not say to Bridget, who was somehow both Alice’s servant and her mistress. Part of her knew that she had only been invited along to make it decent for Jonathan and Alice to have lunch together. She was at once proud of this important role, and also had the nagging feeling that something might be owing to her for it. Alice paused.