White Water Read Free Page B

though Master Parry declares him an obstinate scholar — ’ Ruth’s face puckered suddenly into a smile and she laughed silently until the laughter became a rattling cough and Felicity leaned forward anxiously to put an arm round the bony shoulders.
    ‘That young Piers!’ said Ruth. ‘So like my brother when he was a boy. Such a bad boy, he was, and never out of mischief. You did not know my brother, did you?’
    ‘No, ma’am.’ Felicity answered the familiar question patiently while her eyes skimmed the letter eagerly.
    ‘He died,’ said Ruth. ‘He was a good man. Such a bad boy but such a good man. Maria would have wed him but his health failed him. Poor Harold. He loved Maria. They were betrothed. Did you know that, child?’
    ‘Aye, ma’am.’
    ‘And you did not meet him?’
    ‘Indeed not.’
    ‘He was a good man — a dutiful brother … But go on with the letter. Piers and the Latin — ’
    Felicity continued ‘ … an obstinate scholar and would beat him if I would approve such measures but I can not. My beloved Hugo is well enough, but the mine is a source of great unrest and he finds little pleasure in it and loses sleep and is grown tired and out of humour. I trust you do not suffer the plague in Kent, which is lately broken out again in these parts and with some speed leaps from one village to the next, and the heat of summer will nurture it so that we are grown fearful and stay at home. Beatrice is in Exeter and it is there also so we must all to our prayers and take all good care that we can do. I am thankful Martin is away at school and Allan in London away from the infection. Matt would be remembered to you and speaks often of you and Harold, God rest his soul. Now my letter closes and I wish God’s grace and peace to all at Romney House.’
    She let the letter fall into her lap and looked at Ruth for her reaction. The old woman plucked absentmindedly at the coverlet and stared unseeingly towards the window.
    ‘Martin,’ she said at last. ‘She speaks of Martin. How old is he, this Martin?’
    ‘Eleven, ma’am — or it may be twelve. He is at school in Winchester.’
    ‘Ah, yes. And have we seen the boy?’
    ‘No. Nor any of them.’
    ‘Yet I see them, you know, Felicity. I see them as you read. How is such a thing possible?’
    ‘Maria has told us. She describes them and you remember.’
    ‘I do indeed, child. I remember all of them. My adopted family! Maria calls them my adopted family.’ She sighed. ‘I could have wed you know,’ she said wistfully. ‘Did you know that, Felicity?’
    ‘Indeed, ma’am. You have often spoke of it.’
    ‘But I chose to care for my brother.’ The girl was silent, reading the letter again and the old woman’s voice rose querulously. ‘You don’t answer me, child. I said — ’
    ‘You chose to care for your brother,’ said Felicity hastily. ‘That was well done.’
    ‘Aye … but she speaks of the plague in Exeter. We are more fortunate here.’
    ‘We are indeed.’
    ‘Lorna … Have we seen Lorna?’
    ‘No, ma’am. ’Tis a long way for such a child. Maria says she will visit when she is older.’
    ‘Ah, yes. I recall … That Matt she speaks of. Simple in the head, poor lad. Matthew, his name was, but he would not have it other than Matt. Harold taught him his letters, did you know that?’
    ‘No.’ Felicity lied kindly for the story was one of Ruth’s favourites.
    ‘Harold was so patient,’ the old woman began, ‘and he persevered so. But this Matt, he had so few wits and his fingers were big and clumsy — ’
    Felicity settled herself for the account, smoothing her skirt and Ruth broke off suddenly and turned towards her. ‘What are you wearing, child?’ she asked sharply. ‘Answer me truthfully.’
    The girl coloured instantly and put her glands up protectively to hide the blue silk gown which was her best. ‘Felicity! Speak truthfully now.’
    ‘Oh, ma’am — ’
    The old woman’s face hardened. ‘’Tis the