Chapter 19
“For the information of any busy-bodies,” said Evelyn, icily, including in his address the groggy Sam, who was returning to signs of life, “I am Evelyn Finch, Marquis Finchbury, and with the help of the youngster here and his excellent dog, I have been rescuing my son, who is a lad of some twelve years old, who was kidnapped by Crowy Heron, who was a gypsy of whom any man should be wary; he is now dead along with two of his cousins. My young friend is of the Lovell tribe who will deal fairly with anyone who will deal fairly with them. I pass on to you that they can be trusted to do a fair day’s work for a fair day’s pay. They help me with my harvests. There are gypsies and gypsies.”
Sam had sat up and was fingering his jaw, tenderly.
“You means, you ain’t a gypsy?” he burst out. “Why didn’t you say?”
“You didn’t give me time to do so, you big ox,” said Evelyn. “Moreover, the gypsy boy here is in my care, and under my protection, so I am bound to fight to protect him since you’re more than twice his size, and I call shame on any man of your size who would hit a child at all.”
“Go home, Sam,” said Harris. “You ain’t in any condition to drink or work, an’ in a week you can boast that you stood up against a real marquis and lost to the better man.”
“I still don’t like gypsies,” grumbled Sam.
“Nobody’s asking you to,” said Harris.
At that moment, the door opened, and Cornelius walked in, followed by Shuri, though Evelyn almost did not recognise her for a moment, with her aureole of curls.
“Corny!” said Evelyn.
Cornelius looked stricken.
“No Jasper?” he whispered.
“He’s upstairs, asleep,” said Evelyn.
Cornelius was in time to catch Shuri as she fainted.
“Let’s be having your parlour again, Harris, my friend,” said Evelyn. “The lady, though not my wife, is my son’s mother. I have an interesting family tree,” he added. “Tea, please.”
“Aye, well, that proves you’re an aristo,” said Harris. “Not just complex, but you takes it calmly.”
“I’ll go and see if he’s awake,” said Evergreen, sliding off up to see if he could rouse his friend and tell him his mother was there.
Jasper sat up when Evergreen touched him, ready to fight until he recognised his friend.
“Your mother’s here,” said Evergreen.
“Here?” said Jasper. “What do you mean, here?”
“Here at the inn, looking like a great lady, with Mr. Reckitt. Your – our- tutor.”
“What are they doing here?”
“Looking for us, but mostly for you,” said Evergreen. “Come on; she’s been wound like a watch, I think for she fainted.”
“Mother? She never faints,” said Jasper.
“Well, she did, when your da said you was upstairs,” said Evergreen. “He asked me to call him ‘Evelyn.’ I ain’t sure I’m comfortable.”
“Why not call him ‘Uncle Evelyn?’” suggested Jasper.
“Well, maybe I could live with that,” said Evergreen.
Jasper washed his face and followed Evergreen to the parlour. He was half afraid that he was dreaming, the way he had on that awful journey wrapped in the tent, and then in half-sleep in his hideout under the tree. Dreams where his mother survived, though he did not really believe that she had.
He came into the room and looked at the daybed where she reclined, sitting up now.
“Shuri? Mother?” he said.
“Jasper! Chavo!” she held out her arms, and Jasper stumbled into them.
“He said he’d killed Lementina for sure, and you were with her,” he sobbed. “Oh, I can’t stop crying!”
“It’s all right, my little boy, I’m here. I’m here. Lementina is still alive and fighting. We’re here.”
“Well!” said Evelyn. “How did you get here?”
“Carriage,” said Cornelius. “And to my mind we might as well all go home in it right away, because it’s only a little over an hour and I want to go back to my bed and sleep.”
“You never drove!” Evelyn was horrified.
“Of course I didn’t! You keep a competent stable of grooms and coachmen,” said Cornelius. “If you and I share one seat, and Shuri and the boys share the other, it will be fine, and your horses tethered behind.”
“And the mule,” said Evelyn. “And Bess and Stumpy on the floor of the carriage.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me,” said Cornelius. “Whenever you are ready.”
“Whenever your good lady is ready,” said Evelyn.
They were largely ready to leave after another half an hour, once Shuri, Jasper, and Evergreen had poured out their own stories. Evelyn returned to the bar, and peeled off several high denomination notes for Harris.
“I can’t take this, my lord, I’ve not done anything...”
“You were a haven in need, both going and returning, and what’s more you stood up for us to that bully-boy and the constable,” said Evelyn. “And any time you need anything, it’s yours.”
“Well, I don’t say I couldn’t use it to build an extension so I can offer more accommodation,” said Harris. “It’s my own place, not owned by a brewery so I can do as I please.”
“Well, let me know if you want an investor,” said Evelyn. “Would that mule be useful to you?”
“Well, to be honest, yes,” said Harris. “Poor thing needs feeding up and a bit of tender care.”
“I’ll leave it in your hands then,” said Evelyn. “I’m not sure it would be kind to make the poor beast keep up with a coach.”
“It suits you, mother,” said Jasper. “You look very well as a lady. Are you going to marry Corny?”
“Yes,” said Shuri. “But you need to poke him into asking me properly and in front of the tribe with a proper proposal.”
“I can bring him up to snuff,” said Jasper.
“I didn’t mean to choose until we were all back home and had settled down to proper routines again,” said Shuri. “But... well, he’s always there for me. He caught me when I came over all unnecessary, when I heard you were alive, just as I was thinking that as you were not with Evelyn and Evergreen...” it was her turn to cry in Jasper’s arms.
“Diw! We are a pair,” said Jasper. “It’s all right, mam cariad.”
“You funny boy,” said Shuri. “Enid has always treated me with kindness, so I can see why you wanted to learn Welsh for her.”
“It feels right in my mouth,” said Jasper. “I will act as your go-between and tell Corny that he must make a good offer for you. I value my mother highly.”
“Don’t overdo it; he is not that well off,” said Shuri.
“Oh, I will negotiate more cleverly than that,” said Jasper. “He is to be sure that you have at least two new gowns a month and four bonnets a year, a library subscription, and the freedom to go off on your own when you feel a need.”
“Jasper! I do not need so much!”
“Of course you do, Ma. That’s a meagre amount compared to what Imogen expects, but is reasonable for a country lady. You can always have some as fabric to make up for yourself.”
“I prefer fewer gowns and have them off the peg,” said Shuri.
“No, no, no, you do not value yourself highly enough; made up for you by a seamstress, even if not by a modiste,” said Jasper. “You could pay Imogen’s sewing girl; she will be glad of more work.”
“I will leave it to you,” laughed Shuri.
“Good,” said Jasper. “Oh, I feel so much more the thing now I know you are alive. Pa said he thought you would live, but even he did not know, not when he left.”
“It looked worse than it is,” said Shuri. “I have had half my hair burned off, and Imogen is having a switch made with what was cut off on the good side, which she assures me can be added to my own hair as it grows and arranged, if I wish it, over something called a ‘rat,’ which is apparently padding to make hair look bigger.”
“Oh, I do not interfere in the affairs of women and their beauty products,” said Jasper. “I don’t believe in witchcraft and I eschew such cantrips and spells.”
“You would do well to learn something of them, dear one, to know what is real and what is artifice,” said Shuri. “My pretty curls are borrowed from the wig of some pirate, I believe.”
“What, old Prosper Finch? Famous!” said Jasper. “How anyone so mean-looking could be named Prosper I don’t know, unless he prospered by miserliness. He has the ugliest nose in the whole gallery, and his whiskers make him look like a villain, the way they stick out without a single softening curl.”
“You like having family, even those you can disparage, don’t you?” said Shuri.
“Yes, ma, I do,” said Jasper. “It’s good to have roots; I was born to be a Giorgio, really. I would not want to go back to the tribe, though sometimes I feel constrained, but Pa gives me a lot of freedom.”
“And if Cornelius can let me wander at times, and I would not mind if he came with me, I should not, I think, miss it,” said Shuri. “If he will tramp with me for two or three days at a time and sleep in a tent under the stars in good weather, and I’d be content for that to be on your father’s lands.”
Jasper nodded.
“I will see to discussing it,” he said.
The horses were happy to set off again, having rested, and they all got into the coach, Stumpy being carried.
“I’ve never longed so much to be going home,” said Evelyn. “It has become home, with Imogen, and with my children.”
“I think it is a pleasant region in which to live,” said Shuri, glancing at Cornelius.
“Could I build a little cottage on your land, rather than live in as tutor?” asked Cornelius. “I have pledged to care for Lementina as if she was my own mother, but my father would not, I think, accept her at the rectory, and if we have Eusebius spending any time....”
“Of course,” said Evelyn. “There’s the old gate keeper’s cottage before the new entrance was built, if you don’t think it too small. It has three rooms upstairs and three downstairs.”
“That seems quite suitable,” said Cornelius. “I have no need of a large cottage. I would make one of the downstairs rooms over for Lementina; am I correct in thinking that there is a small kitchen, a parlour in front, and a long room with plenty of windows overlooking the old way in, with a door into each of the other rooms, and the stairs up from the kitchen?”
“Yes, I believe that was how it was laid out,” said Evelyn.
“I will have one of the windows made into a French window, and a patio outside with one of those Italian conceits over, whaddya call it, a loggia, so she can sit outside even in inclement weather, if she chooses, and maybe build a fourth room upstairs on the loggia for any extra children... if I should be getting married.”
“You are, and I’m the go-between and you will have to listen to my demands,” said Jasper “But back home.”
“I am? Oh, Shuri!”
“No, we do not talk, you work with my go-between,” said Shuri. “If you want to do it, do it properly.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Cornelius. “Why are we stopping? We cannot be there yet.”
The panel to the coachman opened.
“Beg pardon, my lord, we’ve been flagged down, a proper flag, and he looks respectable.”
“The devil we have!” said Evelyn. He helped himself to a pistol from the pocket on the door of the coach and got out of the coach on the near side. Cornelius took the other pistol, and slid out of the coach on the off side, to back up his friend against any more footpads, should there be any.
The man who had flagged them down wore Ecclesiastical black.
“My lord! It is you in the coach with your crest. I have to warn you, Eusebius Reckitt escaped from the custody of the alienist to whom he was confided, and he left a journal which made little sense save that he stated his intention to kill his brother, and the Finch family, ‘Grubbed out root and branch,’ is how he put it, and burn out the gypsies in their camp; and I fear he will set an ambush for you.”
“The hell!” said Evelyn. “Well, I have to walk into it; if he’s heading for the hall, my wife and any child she carries, and my daughter are there. I thank you for the warning. Tell the bishop that I cannot be held accountable for any man who threatens my family.”