Shadow of the Past by Judith Cutler Read Free Book Online Page B

poor Miss Southey are waiting. Will you excuse me, Mr Campion?’
    Suddenly the day did not seem so bright. I returned to my church, and repeated the solemn prayer.
     
    During the next few days the pale winter sun did its feeble best to dry the sodden land. To my amazement, if not that of my parishioners, we had been spared serious life-threatening floods, though many suffered the inconvenience of having water in their sculleries and kitchens. Most sufferers had phlegmatically endured their lot, moving their sticks of furniture to the upper storeys and relying on their employers for soup and bread.
    The Marsh Bottom hovels had indeed collapsed, but by then their inhabitants were safe in one of the Chase estate barns; they did no more harm than let their urchins of children chase a few chickens foolhardy enough to venture within. Lady Chase’s sour-faced steward, Furnival, was under instructions to build some modern new cottages for them – on higher ground. In the village there was considerable grumbling, since it was felt that ne’er-do-wells should not benefit from their total lack of thrift. In fact, since the families were actually in the employ of another landlord, the plans came to naught, until Lady Chase cut the Gordian knot and insisted the menfolk would be employed as labourers on her own land. Eventually they would be rehoused in cottages left vacant as the most loyal employees were promoted to her new model site, still currently no more than the plans on muchfolded paper, to be realised when the ground became dry enough to lay foundations. All this was, as one may imagine, the product of long discussions in her ladyship’s unofficial little committee, comprising herself, the Hansards and myself, which met privately in her ladyship’s sitting room.
    To my chagrin, although she regularly asked intelligent questions about our progress, Lady Dorothea never evinced any desire to participate. I ascribed that to a ladylike reluctance to appear unbecomingly forward. Similarly, although I was sure Sir Marcus must have resented the spending of every single groat that might have formed part of his inheritance, he and his wife seemed as uninterested in these plans as Miss Southey’s charges were in whatever she was trying to teach them. The boys had returned to Winchester, where I hoped they were benefiting from their education rather more than Lady Honoria and Miss Georgiana, who were far more interested in tittering at secrets than in any mature conversation.
    Today I encountered the young ladies on a country walk. As I first heard distant voices, I had hoped, with a leaping heart, that Lady Dorothea was of their company – she often was, though I have not embarrassed myself by recording the trivial details of conversations quite meaningless unless one’s heart was involved.
    This time I was disappointed.
    To celebrate the pallid sun I had permitted myself a half-holiday and strolled through my favourite tract of woodland, spongy and waterlogged though the paths might be. I might even have been whistling or singing a favourite hymn: there is nothing like the glory of the Almighty’s handiwork to make the heart glad. Back from the woodland echoed – giggles.
    Ceasing my noise immediately I waited until the young ladies came into sight, ready to smile and doff my hat. But they appeared not. I could hear the murmur of Miss Southey’s serious voice, followed by more giggles and veritable screams of laughter – in boys they would have been jeers.
    I would find out the cause.
    I strode towards the source of the sound, at last breaking into a run. I could see no cause for the cruel hilarity, just three young women whose boots were covered with mud and whose skirts and petticoats were six inches deep in the stuff. For once I looked Miss Southey full in the face. There was no doubting the pain I saw there. I must ask dear Lady Chase to discover its cause. And Lady Dorothea could – nay, should – befriend her. A sudden