The Flight of Swallows Page 5

  She was wrong.

  ‘I have had Brooke Armstrong here just now and after discussing the matter with Elizabeth we have decided upon a course of action concerning not just Charlotte and her future but you boys as well.’

  Uncomprehendingly they waited, their faces disclosing their bewilderment. What had kind Mr Armstrong got to do with their future? Charlotte had dined last night with Father and his friends in celebration of Father’s engagement to Miss Parker and Mr Armstrong had been there. Apparently he had visited Father this morning, either before or after they had met him and discussed something that was to affect them all but their young faces revealed their total lack of understanding.

  ‘Can you not guess, Charlotte?’ Father asked and when Charlie shook her head he smiled strangely. ‘Well, my dear, it seems you have made an impression on Brooke Armstrong which I suppose is no surprise since you are . . . quite pretty. He informed me this morning that he wishes to marry you and has asked my permission to speak to you. Of course, I said yes since it is a good match. He is keen for the wedding to take place as soon as possible so a date has been set for the weekend before Elizabeth and I pledge our vows.’ His voice was ironic, almost derisive and they were not to know of the conversation that had taken place between him and his bride-to-be when he had told her, laughingly, of Armstrong’s offer.

  ‘Let him have her,’ Elizabeth had declared forcefully, then smiled flirtatiously to soften her words. Arthur Drummond did not love Elizabeth Parker and had she not been the only child of a wealthy and influential man it is doubtful he would even have glanced at her despite her attractiveness. He himself was often short of ‘brass’ as they said in Yorkshire, and it did no harm to add to it. He was keen to purchase a pack of hounds and hunters did not come cheaply. He hunted during the winter, took to salmon fishing in the spring and the grouse season in August kept him busy here on his own estate or on those of his many acquaintances, some up in Scotland. Elizabeth was no youngster and if she did not bear him a son he did not care since he already had five but he had noticed how she eyed Charlotte, nine years younger than herself, and to get rid of his daughter and ally himself to another prosperous county gentleman might be useful.

  ‘And the boys?’ Elizabeth had prompted, for Elizabeth Parker, who did not really know her fiancé at all, fancied having him all to herself without a ready-made family to interfere in her new life. Like Arthur, she was not in love but having reached the age of twenty-five without finding a husband to suit her she thought she had him in Arthur Drummond.

  ‘What about the boys?’ he asked lazily, not really caring, smiling inwardly at this woman who thought she could get the better of him.

  ‘Are . . . would they not be better at school? Surely one of the good public schools would prepare them for the future life of a gentleman. A governess is suitable for young boys but the older ones . . . er, Henry, is it and William would do far better among boys of their own age.’

  ‘And Robert, who is only six?’

  ‘Young boys from good families go away to school at the age of eight. It toughens them for what lies ahead. My father is governor at Woodlands in Northumberland and I’m sure that if he approached the board . . . after all the boy will soon be seven, you told me.’

  ‘True. What a minx you are, Elizabeth, or should I say a spider spinning away your fancy web.’

  ‘I prefer minx, my darling.’

  ‘Well, why don’t you come upstairs and prove it to me.’

  The children stood before him, their faces expressionless as he explained to them that the boys were to go to school the day after he and Miss Parker were married. Both Charlotte and Mr Armstrong and he and Miss Parker would be away on their respective honeymoons and so Thomas and Miss Price would accompany them to their new school and then, probably at Christmas, they would come home to spend the holidays with him and their new mother.

  His cold smile played over them but none of them spoke. It was doubtful that Robert even understood. He was aware that something stupendous was happening that concerned his brothers and sister, and himself, of course, but he could not quite get his mind round it. His hand crept into Charlie’s but his father saw it.

  ‘Let go of your sister’s hand, sir,’ he barked. ‘You are not a baby,’ and as though his words had unfrozen her heart and allowed the blood to race once more along her veins, Charlotte sprang into life.

  ‘I suppose this is her doing, is it? Our new mother. She doesn’t want us under her feet and so I am to be married off to the first man to ask for me and my brothers whisked off to school as far away as possible. Robert is too young and so is James and if you imagine I agree with all this you are mistaken. I will not marry Mr Armstrong and I will not allow my brothers to be sent away as though they had done something wrong. Mr Armstrong cannot be serious, Father. We barely know each other.’ She was beginning to breathe heavily now in her distress and fury. She leaned forward and placed both her hands on her father’s desk, thrusting her face into his so that for a second he reared back, but a snarl was beginning to shape about his mouth and his eyes were the icy colour of the lake frozen in winter. A dark, murky brown with what looked like glints of silver in them, a sign of his own rage.

  ‘That is enough, girl. You are to be married on the 23rd of June and Miss Parker and I will follow on the 30th. Your brothers will travel, by train of course, up to Newcastle upon Tyne on the Sunday following and then on to the coast at Whitburn where Woodlands is situated. They will be ready for a new term when it begins. That is my last word on the matter so if you will be good enough—’

  ‘Oh, no, it might be your last word but it is not mine,’ Charlotte shrieked and in the kitchen the servants stood rigidly to attention as though it were one of them who was receiving the lashing of the master’s tongue, even Watson. She was incensed and the boys, especially the older two, longed to take hold of her and restrain her, for surely she knew it would do no good. When had Father ever changed his mind, about anything, relented, given in, allowed any one of them to voice their point of view? They had always been afraid of him even when their mother had been alive and had done her best to interpose herself between his cold anger and the cowering children. But Charlie would not have it and Arthur Drummond found himself wishing just one of his sons had her spirit.

  ‘Go to your room, Charlotte. We will discuss this when you are—’

  ‘No! I will discuss this now. I will not marry Mr Drummond and the boys will not go to school and you can tell your fiancée—’

  With a swift movement her father stood up, stepped round the desk and before he had time to think, so great was his fury, he struck her across her cheek with the back of his hand. She fell across the small table on which the drinks tray stood and the whole lot crashed to the floor, including Charlotte. Robert and James were crying noisily and in the kitchen Kizzie had to be forcibly restrained by Mrs Banks and Mrs Welsh from bursting through the green baize door and down the hallway to the master’s study.

  ‘It will do no good, girl,’ Mrs Banks hissed in her ear. ‘Leave it be.’

  ‘Help your sister to her feet, Henry,’ his father told him coldly, ‘and then you will all go to your rooms and stay there until I send for you. As for you, Charlotte, you might as well know that at this moment Brooke Armstrong is at the rectory talking to the minister and Miss Hunter is in the process of making your wedding dress and garments for your wedding journey. You will believe me when I say you are to marry Brooke Armstrong or there will be dire consequences for you and your brothers. It is a good marriage, a suitable marriage for my daughter and I’m sure you will come to recognise it.’

  And it will do me no harm, either. A liaison with a man of his consequence could be very useful to me. My marriage to the only child of a powerful man, a titled gentleman, and this girl, who is inclined to be defiant, wedded to one of the richest, landed men in the county, what could be more advantageous?

  ‘You will come to see I am right, my dear,’ he said silki
ly. ‘Now, go to your room and rest and you boys, go to your rooms. I will inform you of all the arrangements later.’

  If Brooke had known what was happening at the Mount he would have been horrified. His intention had been to befriend Charlotte, to move slowly, to gain her trust, if not her love, not yet at any rate, and he had said so to Drummond, though not in so many words. And to do that he must see her, meet with her in the summer countryside, just the two of them, or with her brothers if she preferred, take the dogs, wander through the woods, talk, laugh, share opinions, get to know her and have her get to know him. Move at her pace, even if it meant postponing their wedding for months. He would not have her bullied, he had told Arthur Drummond. He did not add that he loved her and Drummond had not mentioned love, since it seemed to Brooke he would not even know the meaning of the word. He was not speaking to the minister as her father had told Charlotte. It was too soon for that. Charlotte would pick her own wedding date but in the meantime he began to make plans to invite her, with her maid, of course, since everything must be correct, above board, to visit what would be her new home. King’s Meadow. She must be allowed to choose and design her own bedroom – the bedroom he would share with her – smiling inwardly and with a shiver of anticipation, like any schoolboy in love for the first time, he thought ruefully. What an absurd situation to be in at his age, ready to moon over a girl fourteen years younger than he was, but did it matter?

  After lunch he had Max saddled up and calling to Dottie and Floss and Ginger he galloped across his land, skirting fields rippling with growing corn, hay, wheat, waving to men working in the warm sunshine, parting small herds of grazing cattle, cows that rocked away in alarm at his approach, entering Seven Cows Wood where he had first met her. Flinging himself off Max’s back he threw himself down in the shade of a massive oak tree, leaving Max untethered. The dogs flopped down beside him, their tongues hanging out, breathing hard.

  Should he have a dinner party to which he would invite her, with her father and his fiancée, naturally, and one or two couples who he knew would be kind with her? Without mentioning marriage he would let her see how he lived. He lay back drowsily looking up into the foliage of the tree, watching a caterpillar hatched from the eggs of the mottled umber moth as it devoured a leaf. His mind was at peace and his heart was full and he sighed with great contentment. He had started his courtship of Charlotte Drummond!

  She was brought down to his study later in the afternoon and he was startled at the state of her face. His temper had got the better of him but he had not realised he had hit her so hard. She had best be kept to her room for a while until she was fit to be seen. She had the beginnings of a black eye and her cheek was red and swollen but she stood proudly before him, meeting his eyes with her own which revealed her defiance. He had discussed it with Elizabeth and she had been adamant that the girl must be made to see how advantageous this marriage would be and that if she proved difficult there must be some pressure that could be brought to bear to persuade her. It was not that Elizabeth Parker wished Charlotte to marry Brooke Drummond for any particular reason. She had wanted him for herself. Arthur was second best but she did want the girl out of the house. The house that would be hers. Charlotte was far too pretty to have at Elizabeth’s dinner table, and far too young, which might not show Elizabeth up in a good light. Elizabeth did not like competition. She was twenty-five and at the height of her beauty but that would not last for ever, and as for those great boys, the sooner they were sent away to school the better. She might – she hoped not – but she might have a child herself and she wanted no rivalry between her child and these others. She did not say this to Arthur, of course, but she congratulated herself that she had persuaded him to see matters in the way she wanted him to see them. She was handed into her carriage for her return journey to her home, smiling with satisfaction, not knowing that she had had not the slightest influence on her future husband, for he knew exactly how to handle his children and needed no advice from her, though at the moment it pleased him to let her think that she had some hand in the running of her future home.

  ‘So, Charlotte, now that you have had time to think about it may I assume that you are willing to consider Brooke Armstrong’s proposal of marriage? I would like to think you will make no objections for, believe me, whatever they may be I shall overcome them. You should know that. He is a very suitable match and—’

  ‘No, Father, I do not wish to marry Mr Armstrong. He is an old man and I do not love him.’

  ‘It seems he loves you,’ her father sneered.

  ‘I’m sorry for that but there is absolutely no chance—’

  ‘Really!’ Her father, who had been lounging in the chair behind his desk, stood up and walked to the window, noting with some satisfaction that she flinched as he moved past her. He looked out into the garden, studying with complacency his lawns, his flowerbeds, the placid smoothness of his lake on which ducks glided, finding them all in perfect order just as his life was. His gardeners were busy in a shady border giving the soil a good dressing of something or other ready for planting stocks and asters, all very pleasing to the eye, but suddenly a small shape flew across his perfect lawn and began to frolic about Malachy’s legs. The man dropped his spade and looked about him furtively then picked up the puppy, for that was what it was and with a word to Denny, the second gardener, hurried across the lawn and disappeared round the corner of the house towards the stable yard.

  He could feel the explosive rage well up in him. He hated dogs, he didn’t know why, particularly puppies, nasty little yapping things and this one, presumably belonging to one of the outdoor servants, had been introduced into his household without his permission. He opened the window and shouted to the remaining gardener who had resumed his work, unaware that his master was watching him.

  ‘Hey, you there,’ Arthur Drummond called out, ‘come here at once.’

  Denny, looking thoroughly intimidated, ran across the lawn and stood at the window. ‘Yes, sir?’ he quavered.

  ‘That bloody dog. To whom does it belong? I want the person to come—’

  A voice from behind him made him swing round in amazement and at the sight of the battered face of the master’s daughter, the gardener’s heart missed a beat in sympathy. He had heard, in great detail and with considerable fury from Kizzie, about the state of Miss Charlotte’s face and who had caused it.

  ‘It is my dog, Father,’ Denny heard her say calmly.

  ‘Your dog?’ her father asked her menacingly. ‘And may I ask how you acquired it?’

  ‘It was given to me by Mr Armstrong, Father. The man you wish me to marry. He meant it for us all, Henry, William, John—’

  ‘Yes, Charlotte, I know the names of my sons. What I would like to know is when this . . . this creature came into your possession?’

  Denny stood indecisively by the open window, wondering what he was supposed to do but the master had moved away. Malachy was just rounding the corner after taking the escaped puppy back to the stable so with a wave of his hand and a mouthed word or two, Denny and the head gardener beat a hasty retreat.

  ‘We met Mr Armstrong while we were walking in the wood and he had his dogs with him. We . . . the boys and I were . . . well, the next time we saw him he brought one of the puppies for us. I saw no harm.’

  ‘You take a great deal upon yourself, Charlotte. You did not think to ask me?’

  ‘You would have said no, Father.’ Charlotte sighed for she knew whatever she said, or did, in any matter, it would be wrong.

  ‘Yes, I would and I think it is time you realised who is the master in this house in which there is no mistress, yet. So, let me say this to you. I will have my way on this marriage of yours, Charlotte. You will marry Brooke Armstrong at St Luke’s Church as soon as it can be arranged and that is an end to the matter.’

  ‘I don’t think so, Father. When the parson asks me if I do, or whatever the words are I shall just say “I don’t” and then—’

  ‘Ma
dam, you cannot possibly imagine you can get the better of me. If you do not obey me in this it is not you who will suffer but your brothers. They are to go to a boarding school in Northumberland which you will appreciate is a great distance from here. I believe there is a sort of preparatory school that will take Robert.’

  ‘Oh please, Father, not Robbie . . . not Robbie . . . He is so young and will fret.’ She almost fell to her knees in entreaty.

  ‘He will be with his brothers. At least at the same school but in a different part, of course, and I’m sure—’

  ‘No, I beg of you. Can you not send him – them – somewhere nearer?’

  ‘They all need discipline, my dear, which it seems I am unable to give them, but, of course . . . well, there is another school I am considering somewhat nearer . . .’

  ‘Please, please . . .’ Charlotte’s face twisted in her agony for her brothers but particularly for her little brother who was still a baby in many ways. Without her he would not survive the rigours of a public school; away from home, even one such as this, he would not . . .

  ‘The answer is in your hands, Charlotte. There is a school, a decent school near York where the older boys could go and which, of course, is within easy travelling distance. You and your Mr Armstrong could get over there in a day, or have the boys to stay with you at King’s Meadow. I doubt they would wish to stay here with myself and my wife but they would be quite welcome if they did. I also wondered if Mr Armstrong would be willing to have Robert to live with you at his home, after you are married I mean, since you seem to think he would not be able to cope with boarding school. There is a very good grammar school in Dewsbury, I believe. He seems very eager to have you for his wife so I’m sure he would be agreeable to this plan. If not, or if you feel you cannot bring yourself to marry this very rich, very pleasant gentleman then you must make your own arrangements for your future. I believe there is always a need for governesses. Of course, the boys will still be sent to boarding school, all of them.’