A Country Wooing Read Free Page B

it,” her mother agreed. Alex sat like a jug, not condemning but not saying a word in Charles’s defense. “I can just imagine the excitement at the Hall when you arrived last night, Alex. Willie and Bung have lived at the roadside for three days. Set up a little tent with a flag on top and didn’t stir from it from morning till night, so as to see you come home.”
    “They nearly pulled me bodily from the gig when they recognized me. I borrowed the gig from the inn in Winchester, for I took the post down from London. They were disappointed I didn’t arrive at the head of an army, or at least mounted on a steed. I had no cattle or carriage in London and didn’t want to buy any till I got home and saw what was in the stable.”
    “That was sensible.” Mrs. Wickfield nodded and thought to herself that it was not the way Charles would have arrived. He’d have bought the flashiest nag he could find and hired an army to come after him.
    “I shouldn’t think you’d have to buy any horses or carriages,” Anne said. “Robin is always complaining of the number of mounts in the stable. There seem to be plenty of carriages for everything.”
    “I was amazed to see an even two dozen nags, with only the twins and Robin riding. And with all that horseflesh, there’s nothing for the girls to ride. I must get a pair of ponies for Loo and Babe. Do you still ride, Anne?”
    “Yes, still the same horse. Mrs. Dobbin is approaching my age, twenty-two, and is about ready for pasture.”
    “What she’s ready for is the glue factory,” Mrs. Wickfield declared.
    “Lord, are you still coaxing that old nag along the roads?” Alex exclaimed. “Why don’t you get yourself a real mount?”
    “Mounts cost money. We aren’t the Penholmes, you know, to be throwing it around as though it were hayseed.”
    Alex stared in surprise. “Surely you can afford a decent mount.”
    “Of course we could—if we thought it took precedence over having food on the table.’’ Alex gave a guilty look at his plate, and she laughed. “No, really, we are not quite so hard up we begrudge you your mutton.”
    “You’ve no idea what’s happened to money, Alex,” Mrs. Wickfield said. “They blame it on the war, but it’s the merchants filling their pockets, if you ask me. Mrs. Perkins—from the general store, you know—has set herself up a carriage and team, and she need not bother letting on she isn’t putting half the increased price in her pocket. You have only to look at the Anglins—retired merchants from London, and millionaires. They’ve built a castle to rival Penholme. We who are living on a fixed income must make and mend as we can. We are getting pretty good at mending. Anne even took the hammer to her own slipper yesterday, to save paying the cobbler.”
    Alex laughed, thinking it a joke, but was soon told otherwise. “It’s no laughing matter!” Mrs. Wickfield scolded him. “We used to be able to afford a trip to Bath or London once in a while, but with what money is worth today, we’re lucky we can keep a gig to drive to Eastleigh.”
    A frown settled on Alex’s brow as he listened. “Is it really that bad? Aunt Tannie has been reading me a list of woes, but I confess I paid her little heed.”
    “You’ll see for yourself,” Mrs. Wickfield continued, happy to air her grievance to a new audience. “Servants’ wages are so high I threaten to turn maid myself. With the merchants able to offer them a fortune, we must do likewise or scrub our own floors. Our maid demands thirty-five pounds a year, if you please. We decided between us, Annie and I, that for that sum we could well make our own beds and run a dust cloth over the furniture.”
    “You have only the butler and cook, then?”
    “Butler?” Mrs. Wickfield stared. “Nobody but lords and merchants has a butler. We have cook and a backhouse boy, who looks after the stable and does a bit of gardening and tends the fire. Just a boy, you see, so we don’t have