CHAPTER TWO

Sarah decided that she definitely felt her age. Her joints were very rheumaticky and it took her a long time to throw off a cold.

She seemed to keep a cough for weeks and she supposed that the bad years living in the hovel had done the mischief. Her face was old and well wrinkled but her eyes still shone, bright and very alert with often a twinkle in them as she watched her beloved Jos.

She was too old to work now. Too tired and worn out. Jos was the breadwinner and the Squire was generous. He charged them no rent and many a tit-bit came down from the big house as well as clothing and furniture.

Sarah looked around at the small cottage. It was now a snug home, tiny, but just right for her and Jos. She would be forever grateful to the Squire. Of course, this cottage would never be like the old Ferndale house, long since destroyed by fire and storm when empty.

Dear Joseph had been dead these 19 years now. At times, she had trouble in picturing his face. The same occurred with Betty. It didn’t seem possible she’d ever had a daughter! Her whole life had always been bound up in Jos.

She smiled affectionately as she thought of him. He was such a dear boy but what a dreamer! She wondered, for the hundredth time, who he took after. None of her family had ever been anything but quick and practical . . . Certainly no Howard had ever grown to Jos’s height.

Sarah sighed. Sometimes when she talked to Jos she knew she was not getting through to him. Uneasily she wondered just how deep were the teachings she had tried to instill in him. She knew he walked a lot on Mayo’s land. She did not know that it was because he sought a chance to see the grey horses, or talk to his grandfather or have a ride with him. She thought he was studying the land which had once been theirs.

She knew all about George Mayo too and the animosity which existed between the two boys. She suspected this feeling was deeper on George Mayo’s part. Jos was so quiet and easy-going.

‘I do wish he had a bit more spark and go in him. I’ve never once heard him talk about a plan for getting our land back. I must have a set-to with him one day. Make him think up some plan of action. We can’t, we just can’t go on like this, year after year, doing nothing. I’m old. I’ll soon be very old. I must get Jos moving before I die!’ she vowed to herself.

The trouble was, Sarah admitted to herself, the horse. Jos was quite horse mad. He seemed to think and dream of nothing but horses. Sarah snorted. Fat lot of good horses were to them.

‘We are farmers. It’s the land that matters. Land, machines, and the ability to grow more crops with bigger yield.’

Sarah had heard about James Mayo’s switch from plain crops to intensive horse breeding.

‘I don’t care if “They” do make horses pay,’ Sarah muttered to herself more than once. ‘We must have our land back.’

James Mayo was said to have hundreds of horses now and sold direct to the main coaching firms in Bristol, Bath and London. At the same time, the gentry had discovered the famous grey horses. They were in high demand as riding animals not only for the ladies but also for the men who now followed the favourite winter pastime of fox-hunting. They said that a good Mayo’s grey fetched a fortune in the Shires.

She hadn’t seen one of the Mayos since that terrible day. She knew that James kept well out of her way. Mary Mayo she thoroughly despised. Was it possible they had once been friends? She knew that Mary had changed and it was her teachings which had instilled such vitriolic hatred in her son. What a rotten breed they were, she thought, completely forgetting Jos had their blood.

‘The only semi-decent one is old James,’ she conceded. ‘At least he speaks his mind. You know where you stand with him and what to expect. That boy of his though, is sneaky and bent. There might be some trouble with him but Jos will manage.’

Jos! Her life!

He must marry and have a son!’

She suddenly realized the time. Jos was late again. Now where was he? Standing looking over some gate dreaming about horses most likely. What a boy!

Jos was not dreaming about horses. They had a rival now. An opponent who astonished Jos himself. That some other object could fill his waking mind was astounding, but then, Maud Gordon was no ordinary female.

The Howards’ benefactor had managed to produce exactly one living child—unusual for those prolific days. She had been nurtured to adulthood like a treasured gem. The Squire adored her.

Big, bluff and a little foolishly short-sighted, he thrust even more worship on his daughter after his wife’s death. He sometimes wondered uneasily what would happen to his Maud if he died with her unwed. Although he had position and class in the area the Squire was acutely aware of the precarious state of his finances.

He must find a suitable match for his girl. A title was out of the question. One had to be real gentry for that. Time and time again his quest drove him up against the Mayos. Young George was the same age as his girl though whether George and Maud liked each other he had no idea; not that this factor mattered, of course. They seemed friendly enough the rare times they met socially, but the Squire knew the power behind George was his father. Here the Squire always smiled to himself. His land bounded on to Mayo’s. Whosoever married Maud would eventually inherit his land.

He knew James Mayo was still land-greedy. A marriage between George and Maud would be eminently satisfactory from the farmer’s point of view. The idea did not displease the Squire. With such a match Maud and her children would never want.

That Maud might have her own ideas never occurred to her father. Squire Gordon knew that Mayo’s was entailed. No Mayo, for three generations to come, could sell any land without the consent of his heir. Mayo’s was safe for a long time.

Mayo and Gordon had a strange relationship. On the one hand contempt for obvious weakness. On the other, tolerance of an avaricious nature. They met once a month alternately at their respective homes suffering each other. They played chess, a game at which, to the Squire’s surprised pleasure, he was better than James Mayo.

The Squire knew that Jos liked his girl, which was only natural. They had grown up together since that dreadful day when Jos had been born and his mother died. The Squire knew the whole story. That was all long ago now. The Squire had never regretted helping the woman and the boy. He reckoned they had gone through more than enough. He showed a regular interest in both of them at all times and was happy to allow Jos to work for him as soon as he could leave school. He had approved of Jos going to school but not of stopping there too long. After all, too much education could be dangerous to the lower classes. It was quite sufficient that he could read, write and do some figuring. Anything more than that would be ridiculous for a common labourer which was all Jos was.

* * *

Jos could see the major part of the Squire’s acres from where he stood. Like so many of the upper classes properties it was a solid affair of white stone with a large rambling orchard and extensive stabling.

Jos and Maud had played in the orchard from the days when they first toddled out for adventure.

When Sarah had worked regularly in the kitchen at the big house Jos had spent hours there. He and Maud had taken to each other from the start. She had been an ideal playmate, always ready to follow his masculine lead.

After she too had gone away to her better school for young ladies of good family, Jos had missed her sadly. When she came home on holidays they had always picked up the threads of their friendship. At one stage George Mayo had started to come over but he had desisted. The boys did not dare to fight on the Squire’s property. Nevertheless, they managed to strut around like cocks, taunting each other. Sarah had rushed out one day and boxed George’s ears with more venom than the startled boy deserved. It was the first time she had seen him. It was also the last. George never came again.

Jos really opened his eyes when Maud came home from school for the last time. He could not remove his gaze from her. Where was the gangling girl with gigglish tendencies who had been his playmate? How was it he had not noticed this lovely creature before?

Maud was not really beautiful but she did have a prettiness. Combined with a happy, effervescent nature this made her startlingly attractive.

She was a tall girl, though nowhere near Joe’s great height. Her skin was creamy with rich lips, high cheekbones and pale blue eyes. She had hair the colour of ripe wheat. She was full of kindness to animals and people, not yet having met the cruelty of the world in general. She was also conscious of her power over the male and her position in the county as the Squire’s single daughter.

Jos fell wildly in love. Maud was the most gorgeous creature in the world. She was even better than the grey horses. His entire day, and half of his waking night, was spent thinking about her.

For the first time Jos thought seriously about marriage. To wed meant having money. Jos had precious little of that with no chance of getting any more. He still had his grandpa’s half-sovereign but he had only been able to increase this sum with a few carefully saved shillings.

He was practical enough to realize that, with Maud, he was aiming high. Her station in life was far superior to Jos’s. He always started sweating when he came to this part in his mental dreams. How could he improve his position and ask the Squire for Maud’s hand?

Maud, acute and perceptive, her female instincts fully developed knew exactly what Jos was going through. She thrived on it.

It was a wonderful, tantalizing game she played. She was quite sure that she was in love with Jos. During the spring and summer of 1835 Maud led Jos a merry dance.

A horrific thought dawned on Jos one day. He did not know how Maud felt about him! Perhaps she didn’t even like him! He was galvanized into action. He had to see her. He must ask her. Now!

Jos knew Maud’s actions and he waited for her in the orchard. She always came out on a summer evening for a stroll. Sometimes with her father, often alone. He waited in a fever of impatience hoping the Squire had other things to do.

As soon as she stepped from the door Maud spotted him. She had enjoyed her fun that year but she now knew there was a time for the teasing to stop. She walked slowly towards the orchard, stopping now and again, caught as always by the view.

She did some rapid thinking. A few weeks ago she had told herself that she was seriously in love with Jos. Many things though had happened since then. The most notable being a talk she’d held with her father.

They had finished their dinner and were sitting in front of the open windows, relaxing in the evening air. Maud had felt her father’s gaze. Smiling, she lifted an eyebrow in question. The Squire had cleared his throat, studied his hands, and taken the plunge.

‘My dear, you are eighteen now. It’s time you were thinking of getting married. I am getting on in years and I would like to see you settled,’ he began.

Maud touched his hand lovingly. She did not like to hear him talk in this vein but he was, she admitted, starting to age rapidly now. She felt tender towards him. Since her mother’s early death they had been very close.

‘I have thought about it,’ she replied gently.

He eyed her carefully. ‘George Mayo would make a good match, my dear.’

‘George Mayo! But!’

‘No! Hear me out first. You know we are not in the financial position we were years ago. I would like to think that when you marry it will be to a man who has plenty of money so that you and your children will never want. You know the position of the Mayos as well as me. They could buy me out six times over with their loose change! George isn’t a bad young man. Perhaps he’s a bit thoughtless—but young men often are. He’d settle down with a good wife. You must admit, there’s nothing wrong with his looks. He’s a fine young man, the very best for miles around!’

Mrs George Mayo—mistress of the mighty Mayo’s! Maud rolled the sentence backward and forward. Why, it sounded very impressive indeed. It was certainly very true that, as mistress of Mayo’s, she would never want. She would have position, influence and extreme comfort. She realized that times were still difficult. Only a family like Mayos could offer her financial security.

She thought seriously about Jos while her father watched keenly, not wanting to interrupt her thought-line.

‘Jos loves me, I do know that,’ she told herself, ‘but do I really love him. What is love?’

She lived in a day and age of arranged marriages where parental obedience was expected without question. Maud felt deep tenderness towards Jos but what kind of life could he give her? He was nothing but a low farm worker without talent of any kind. Even though he came from good stock he was, after all, only a bastard living in a cottage. There was never a hope of his getting enough money to keep her as she liked to be kept right now.

With practical issues brought out into the open she was able to look at the situation from every angle. She considered George. As a girl she had disliked him for his sneaky ways. As a young man she had to admit she did not really know him. Jos had always usurped the field. George had never been given a chance to compete for her favours. George was most distinctly presentable, there was no denying that. George or Jos? Money or poverty? Comfort or misery?

She shuddered suddenly. Her life, to date, had been too easy. She knew, in her heart, that no matter how she cared for Jos right now, if she wed him her love might easily die when poverty knocked at their door. Maud Gordon was not too bad a snob for those times. She was extremely practical. Perfectly able to view matters with a realistic dispassion.

‘Has Mr Mayo spoken of this?’

Her father nodded.

‘He spoke long ago.’ Then he grinned at her. ‘Don’t forget, our land runs alongside his. When I’m gone you inherit the land. Whosoever weds you does the same. If you marry George Mayo your son would be the biggest landowner for miles around.’

She had great, natural ambitions. She knew, only too well, the value placed upon the acquisition of land. She was also acutely aware of the power that went with the land. A large land-holder was somebody indeed.

‘Jos cares for me,’ she said, speaking slowly.

The Squire shook his head. ‘That’s only because he’s been almost brought up with you. He’s a nice enough lad but he’s still only a bastard. He’s not a penny piece to his name and absolutely no chance of getting money. He can’t even talk correctly. Listen to that thick Gloucestershire accent of his! Sometimes I have a job to make out what he means! He is just a low youth, way below our class in life. I would never let you marry, Jos, my dear,’ he told her firmly, adding, ‘And even though you might think a lot about him now, that wouldn’t last when you became cold and hungry.’

‘But it would hurt him terribly!’ had been her reply. ‘Affianced to a Mayo too!’

The Squire had snorted then. ‘I can’t help how Jos feels. I’ve done my best for him and the old woman. I’m thinking about us now—and you mostly. He’ll get over it and find some wench in his own class. Will you marry George Mayo?’

Maud sat up straight. She could still back out and fight her father, though such action would be contrary to her nature and stern upbringing. In her heart, though, she knew she did not want to. Everything would be so safe with the Mayos. The more she considered the idea the more she found it to her liking.

Dear Jos, she thought, and waited for a stab of remorse to come. Nothing happened. Instead she pictured handsome George. She wondered a little at the excitement tugging at her. Life with him would be so exciting. Why—they would make a splendid couple.

She nodded, the decision made. ‘I’ll wed George Mayo. What shall I do about Jos?’

‘I’ll tell him, if you like?’ her father had offered.

Maud shook her head. ‘No, I must at least tell him myself. I expect he’ll be waiting for me one evening. I’ll stop teasing and tell him.’

‘And I’ll ride over to Mayo’s. You and George can get engaged shortly. I expect we will all arrange something very special for you my dear. You have made me very happy and stilled a lot of worries. The wedding can be next year. The sooner the better I think,’ the Squire finished in a thoughtful voice.

Maud went to meet Jos, feeling guilt stab beneath pretended indifference. With increasing unease, the Squire watched from the window. There were strong blood lines in young Jos. A rejected young man either sank into the trough of human despondancy or rose to the heights of a fighting madman. Which way would Jos go?

Maud watched him step from behind the tree to greet her, his blue eyes sparkling with happiness. She suddenly realized this was not going to be easy. Bitterly now she regretted the way she had dallied with his affections. All along, Jos had remained true. How could she tell him her decision without causing acute heartbreak? She hesitated, her feet turning to lead. She hated her past actions and herself even more. She stopped and Jos looked down at her, beaming his wide smile. His hand touched her gently.

‘Let’s walk,’ he suggested happily.

Unhappily, she complied, head low, heart thudding with worry. It flashed through her mind she should stop, go back to the house and leave this to her father, but Maud was no coward. She set her jaw and started thinking suitable words. How would he react? When should she speak? Now or later?

Jos saw there was something amiss. He was too pleased to be with the girl of his choice to wonder at the reason for her unusual silence. It was enough that she was not in one of her teasing moods.

He was bubbling over with feeling, exhilarated beyond relief. He burst to tell of his love but he wanted a good setting. He chose the brookside at the edge of the orchard. He sat her on a log, looked down at her face then knelt. Firmly he held her hands in his, as if to will her to him.

‘Maud! Maud!’

She forced her gaze up, feeling a prickling behind her eyes as she saw his expression.

‘Maud, I’ve something to tell you. I’ve been thinking about it all Summer. I should have spoken before, but—!’

‘And I’ve something to tell you,’ she replied quietly.

‘You listen to me first! Maud, I know I’m no great catch right now because I’ve very little money. Nothing much to offer a girl really except myself. I love you deeply. I think I must always have felt this way but I didn’t realize until spring. More fool me for not speaking sooner! Maud, will you marry me? Not right now, of course. Perhaps in a year or two when I’ve something behind me. I’ll work hard and save hard to make you a home. I’ll look after you well, Maud—and—you’re crying! What’s wrong?’ A worried note entered his voice. Then his arms went around her.

He felt her relax against him, then suddenly she went stiff. Her arms pushed against his broad chest. Baffled, he released her.

‘What’s wrong, darling?’ he whispered anxiously.

Maud sighed. She bit her lips and looked at him. A tightness caught her throat.

‘Oh, Jos! This is all my fault! No! You must listen to me now. I don’t know how to begin. How to tell you! Jos, it can never be. I like you Jos, I’ve always liked you but I don’t love you. I’m promised to someone else. My engagement will be announced soon. I can never marry you, Jos. I’m going to marry George Mayo. It’s all arranged,’ she announced flatly.

Jos said nothing. He was shocked and stupefied beyond belief. He had been quite prepared for her to say she didn’t love him yet. That he would not have minded; he would have had the pleasure of seriously courting her but the idea that she was already promised to another had shaken his foundations. Had he heard her correctly?

One look at her serious, wan face convinced him. She was going to marry someone else—and George Mayo of all men. This was the bitterest blow of all. He tried to rationalize his thoughts into a logical argument in his own favour but speech now failed him. He was too mentally shocked and just knelt there, frozen, bleak-faced and wide-eyed.

‘Maud!’ he begged, then speech failed him again. His mind had stopped. Life had ended. What was there for him now?

‘Jos! Don’t take on! It was never meant to be—you and me!’ she pleaded, standing up and facing him.

Sullenly he averted his gaze. A scowl on his face. His bottom lip trembling a little.

‘Jos, look at me! Jos!’

He stared, seeing something new and alien in her eyes. It dawned on him that she was not averse to this distasteful match.

‘Why?’ he asked her bluntly.

Maud floundered. ‘Because it’s well—’

‘Do you love him?’ he asked coldly, gripping her white arm.

Maud hesitated unhappily.

‘Answer me!’

‘You’re hurting! Let go!’ she protested.

‘Do you love George Mayo?’ he barked at her, seeming to grow to a giant’s size before her startled eyes. She shook her arm free and backed a step, watching him warily now. This was not going right, somehow. Jos looked ugly. She had never seen him like this before.

‘Do you love him?’ he roared at her.

‘Don’t shout at me like that! Yes, I do!’ she snapped back at him in a wild lie. She was furious with herself but even angrier with him for making her say things which weren’t true. ‘Yes, I do, I do! I do!

Suddenly she saw Jos sag. His shoulders slumped, his head bowed and he turned away.

Jos faced her again. ‘You meant what you’ve said? You’re not just teasing?’ he asked hopefully. The look in her eyes squashed this final hope.

‘Jos, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—’

‘You’re sorry!’ he said scornfully. ‘George Mayo! Why pick on him or—!’ and he paused, thinking quickly.

‘There’s more to this than you’ve told me. Since when have Mayo and the Squire been all that friendly? I know they meet once a month but there is something else, isn’t there?’ he bullied her, his voice loud and rough.

Maud flinched at his tone and her own anger rose. Her father was right! He was an uncouth labourer. Listen to that dreadful accent!

‘Yes, there is if you want to know. When I marry George Mayo all the land that counts will belong to one family. My son will be the power around these parts when he’s grown up. What can you offer to equal that?’ she snapped.

Jos’s face was bleak and cold. He drew himself to his full height and regarded her stonily.

‘If that’s the case, then I guess I’ve made a fool of myself. I hope you don’t live to regret your action. You know what the Mayos are!’

Maud flared up again. ‘And what are they then? Shrewd, clever and sound, which is more than can be said for the Howards! What can you give me but a dab of a cottage? There’s no future in that for me, thank you. I’m used to better things. Just you remember who I am, if you don’t mind! You talk about the Mayos as if they’re poison. Just you remember Jos Howard, that one of your grandfathers is a Mayo and the other a common felon!’

As soon as the words were out of her mouth Maud regretted them. She would have given ten years of her life to recall them. The damage was done. Jos’s expression changed. An alien and revengeful look flashed through his eyes. His nostrils flared and his jaw shot out.

‘Heavens!’ thought Maud frantically, ‘he looks like old Mr Mayo himself!’

‘I’m a double fool then—and old Sarah’s been right all along!’

Jos turned on his heels and strode away. His blood bubbled with anger, resentment and humiliation. He had come to see her as a laughing, happy boy. He left her every bit as bitter a man as old Joseph Howard had been that dreadful day 19 years ago.

Maud lifted a hand, opened her mouth to call after him and thought better of it. She walked back to the house. Slowly she began to look into the future, to feel the first tremor of sheer excitement. Why, she was going to be wed to the most handsome man in the county! Life was simply grand!