Devil Water by Anya Seton Read Free Book Online Page B

black felt bonnet which flopped over his hairy left ear.
    Charles followed his host into a smoky wainscoted hall full of people drinking October ale from pewter flagons. They all turned and stared at Charles while the Chief clapped him on the back and boomed out a list of names. Swinburne, Shaftoe, Collingwood, Widdrington, Forster, and others which Charles, confused and trying to bow in all directions, did not hear at all.
    That these names belonged to old Northumbrian families, and that they were mostly Roman Catholic he did know, but he had met none of them before, because Cousin Maud from the moment of their arrival at Dilston had discouraged callers. Time enough for that, she said, when the castle was in order and the Earl had come. Besides, how did one know which of these Northerners were suitable? One must be careful not to cause dear James future annoyance.
    There were a few ladies among the group; the handsomest of them came up to Charles and, smiling, took his hand. “For shame, sir,” she said to Mr. Errington. “The boy’s all mazed with so many to greet.” She turned to Charles. “I’m Mary Swinburne. This is my husband, Sir William.” She indicated a middle-aged man with auburn hair and a pleasant face. “We live at Capheaton Hall, where we hope very soon to welcome you and your brothers. Though indeed,” she made a charming little curtsey towards the Chief, “nobody can hope to equal the hospitality of Beaufront!”
    “So say we all, my lady!” called young George Collingwood, a handsome man who was clinking mugs with one of the Widdrington youths.
    Lady Swinburne smiled again and said, “Mr. Radcliffe, will you tell his lordship, I pray you, how eagerly we all await his coming, and that though we do not know him yet, our hearts already do him great honor.”
    Charles stammered an assent. He thought the lady agreeable, but he was embarrassed that she still held his hand. “We are kin to his lordship,” continued Lady Swinburne, “at least Sir William is. I was but a poor spinster from Berkshire before my heart’s delight here--” she waved towards her husband, “carried me off to the splendors of the North.”
    “Hoot, Mary,” interposed her husband laughing. “Enough of your Southern compliments and graces, or young Radcliffe’ll take you for a mincing courtier! As a matter o’ fact, there are several of his lordship’s cousins here today.”
    “Aye,” said the youth, Peregrine Widdrington, putting down his ale flagon. “His lordship is kin to me ”
    “And to me,” boomed a fat young man with piggy eyes and snuff stains on his splayed fingers. “Tom Forster of Etherstone, at your service, sir,” he said, winking at Charles. “Tell his lordship m’fair sister Dorothy’ll be here to greet him when he comes, fairest flower o’ Northumberland she is! He’ll like that I’ll warrant!” Forster gave a lewd, slightly drunken chuckle, and inhaling a huge pinch of snuff sneezed luxuriously.
    It occurred to Charles that if all these folk were kin to James they were also kin to him, though nobody mentioned it, and he felt the old twinge of being forever neglected and passed over in favor of the magnificent James.
    Lady Swinburne was watching him covertly and read some of his thoughts, for she was a discerning gentlehearted woman. She loosed his hand, which had grown very sweaty, and said to the Chief, “But we forget that Mr. Radcliffe has not himself seen his brother in many a year, and must be eager to start. Where is your nephew, sir?”
    “Up to his ears in paper and ink, no doubt,” said the old man, shrugging, “ever trying to turn our few shillings into pounds, which can’t be done.” He raised his voice and bellowed, “Thomas! Thomas! Where the devil are ye!”
    A stooped, frowning man walked into the hall, saluted the company briefly, and said to his uncle with reproof, “I was putting your bills in order, sir. I pray you, endeavor while I’m gone not to lose the