Every Mother's Son (5 page)

‘Can we stay?’ Beatrice asked. ‘I mean, can we stay and help with the harvest? We’d love to, wouldn’t we, Charles?’

‘No, miss.’ Aaron spoke up from atop his horse. ‘Mistress said we’d to be back for luncheon an’ it’s just about that time already. We’d best be getting back if there’s nowt to be done here.’

Daniel came over to join them. ‘Hello. What ’you two doing here?’

‘We saw what happened, and came down to help,’ Charles said again.

‘You were very brave, Daniel,’ Beatrice said, and then tried out a joke. ‘Daniel in the horse’s den.’

Her brother and Daniel looked at her. Daniel grinned but Charles said, ‘Ho, ho, ho! Is that supposed to be funny, Bea?’

Beatrice sighed dramatically. ‘Well – it obviously wasn’t.’ She turned her back on her brother. ‘We wondered if we could stay to help with the harvest, but Aaron says that we can’t because we have to be home for luncheon. I’m not in the
least
hungry, so I don’t see why we should have to go back yet!’

‘You’ll be hungry by ’time we get back, miss, an’ if we don’t go now, we’ll be late and missus’ll be mad at me.’

‘You don’t want Aaron to get into trouble, do you, Beatrice?’ Daniel said. ‘And besides, you’re not dressed for harvesting. Why don’t you ask your mother if you can come tomorrow?’ He looked at her in her green riding habit and matching hat, and then at Charles in his tweed hacking jacket and riding breeches. ‘And come in your oldest clothes, cos you’ll get covered in dust.’

‘Oh, very well,’ Beatrice said sulkily. ‘But we might not be allowed to come. We’re not allowed to do everything we want, you know!’

‘None of us are,’ Daniel told her. ‘I’d rather be fishing down at Broomfleet lock but I can’t cos it’s harvest time and all hands are needed.’

‘Broomfleet lock?’ she said. ‘But that’s a long way. Nearer to our house than yours.’

‘I know.’ Daniel glanced towards the gangs of men who were moving back up the fields. ‘But there’s good fishing. Anyway, I’ll have to go, we’re ready to start again.’ He raised questioning eyebrows at Charles. ‘Might see you tomorrow?’

Charles shrugged. ‘Don’t know if I want to come; but if I don’t, then Bea can’t either.’

‘Oh, Charles!’ Beatrice broke in, exasperated. ‘You’re such a spoilsport!’

‘Got to go,’ Daniel broke in before he sped off, and he heard Aaron say, ‘Best be going, miss. I’ll bring you tomorrow if Mrs Hart says it’s all right.’

The first thing Melissa said when they told her about the incident at the harvesting was, ‘Is the child all right?’ and the next, ‘And how did you come to be there? Wasn’t that out of your way?’

‘We saw something going on from the top of the rise,’ Beatrice said swiftly before Charles could speak. ‘So we rode down to see if we could give assistance.’

‘Really! Surely there were people about?’

‘It was Beatrice who wanted to go down,’ Charles said.

‘But then you rode off before me,’ Beatrice interrupted. ‘You said you thought we should go. You just wanted to be first. Aaron said we shouldn’t, because there were plenty of folk there.’

‘You only wanted to go so that you could see Daniel.’ Charles forked a slice of chicken into his mouth and chewed, and when he’d swallowed it said, ‘She’s sweet on Daniel.’

‘No I am
not
,’ Beatrice said hotly. ‘He’s your friend just as much as he’s mine.’

‘Children!’ Mrs Hart warned. ‘No quarrelling at table.’

Her husband looked up and smiled. ‘Who is this Daniel?’ he asked. ‘Do I know him? Should I be making lists of eligible young men for my daughter?’

‘Charles is being stupid,’ Beatrice said crossly. ‘He thinks he’s so grown up since he went away to school.’

‘You do know Daniel, dear,’ Melissa told their father. ‘Daniel Tuke. You remember? Fletcher and Harriet Tuke? He’s the eldest son.’

‘Oh, yes, of course.’ Christopher’s expression closed, as she had known it would. ‘Not a contender, then.’

Daniel was shaken by the incident, although he didn’t show it. Joseph had started to scream and he’d been sure that the horses would bolt, which would have meant real trouble, but he’d managed to scoop up the child, pressing his face into his jacket to muffle the sound so as not to disturb the horses further, and murmuring, ‘You’re all right, Joseph, you’re all right now,’ until his cries had turned to a whimper.

When Harriet came back later with more freshly drawn water in a pail for the men to dip their cups and take a drink, she told him that she’d put Joseph to bed and Dolly was staying with him. ‘Little monkey,’ she said. ‘He’d wandered out to follow Maria and me, and poor Dolly hadn’t noticed he’d gone. She’s very upset.’ She smiled shakily at Daniel. ‘But I told her that her brave brother had saved the day.’

Daniel shrugged. ‘I just happened to get there first, Ma, that’s all.’

‘Young Beatrice from the manor thought you were brave. They were a long way from home, weren’t they?’

‘Beatrice gets bored riding on their own land and she’s not allowed out on her own,’ Daniel said. ‘She can only go out when Charles is home from school, and even then someone has to go with them.’ He gave a grin. ‘He thinks he’s so grown up and gets mad when I say I can go anywhere I want!’

‘Except that you have to work now,’ his mother reminded him. ‘You can’t go wandering off in ’way you used to.’

‘I know,’ Daniel admitted. ‘But I’m a year older than Charles,’ he added, ‘and on a Sunday I can. I can go fishing in ’lock and streams and even go down to ’river bank if I want.’

‘No!’ Harriet said sharply. ‘I don’t want you larking about down there. ’Estuary is deep and ’tide runs fast and if you got on to ’salt marsh you’d never get out. You mustn’t go there, Daniel, do you hear?’ She was agitated, not her usual self. ‘Daniel! Are you listening to me?’

‘Aye, Ma, I’m listening. I hear what you’re saying.’

It was another piece of the puzzle and he couldn’t quite make it fit. It was something to do with the old house down by the estuary. There were only a few broken-down walls left and they were covered in ivy. He and some of his pals had found it when they’d headed down towards the river one day a couple of summers back. He’d asked his father if he knew who it belonged to and Fletcher had said it was private land belonging to Master Hart.

‘It’s where I lived when I was a boy,’ he’d said. ‘With Granny Tuke and my father and Noah.’

He too had said he didn’t want him to play there. ‘The walls are dangerous,’ he’d said. ‘They should be demolished.’ He’d also told him that the land had been allowed to flood. Warping, he’d called it; drains had been put in and sluice gates built and in a few years it would be good land for growing. ‘But don’t go there again, Daniel. There are bad memories of a drowning and you mustn’t tell your ma that you’ve been.’ Fletcher hesitated, then took a breath and said, ‘It was Noah who drowned. My father Nathaniel got into difficulties on ’salt marsh and Noah tried to save him. They both died.’

Daniel nodded his understanding. It was all becoming much clearer now and helped to explain why his mother had been so agitated when she learned that he thought he could go down to the river bank by himself. He realized now that he couldn’t, that it was totally out of bounds.

CHAPTER SIX

It dawned on Daniel when he was seventeen that not everyone was equal. He had long realized that some folk were richer than others, that some only scraped a living and others such as his father and Tom – he’d stopped calling him Uncle when he overtopped him at fourteen – had good years and poor years like most farmers, and that there were others who owned land but didn’t farm it themselves, like Charles and Beatrice’s father for instance, who let his farms and land to tenants.

But until then he hadn’t considered that there was a difference in status or prestige; he touched his forehead or doffed his cap, as his father did, out of respect, or because the other person was older or wiser, or politely to a female, not because he thought that he or she was superior to him. But at the twins’ sixteenth birthday party, to which he and Maria had been invited, he became aware that he had been under a misapprehension.

Maria hadn’t wanted to go to the party. Her mother thought she had been invited to be company for Daniel. At thirteen she was quite shy, unlike Dolly who wasn’t, but who hadn’t been invited.

‘Maria doesn’t have to come if she doesn’t want to,’ Daniel protested. ‘I don’t need company. I know Charles and Beatrice well enough to go on my own, even though I’m not bothered about going either.’ His forehead creased. ‘Why do you think they’re having a party anyway?’

Harriet considered. ‘Not sure,’ she said. ‘Perhaps they’ve something special to announce. Although they’ve had parties before. You used to go to them when you were little.’

‘Did I?’ Daniel said. ‘I remember the summer parties on ’manor lawn. I’ve never been in their house.’

‘You have,’ his mother said. ‘Lots of times, but not since you were a bairn.’

‘Did I go?’ Dolly said, anxious not to be left out.

‘We all went to ’summer parties. The Harts used to hold one most years if ’weather was good. All ’local farmers and tenants were invited.’

‘I remember them,’ Maria chipped in. ‘But I haven’t been inside ’house. I won’t know what to say to Mrs Hart and I hardly know Beatrice. If ever she calls here it’s only to see Daniel.’ She cast a significant glance at her brother.

‘Will there be cake?’ Joseph piped up. ‘Cos if there is I’ll go ’stead of Maria.’

‘You haven’t been invited,’ Dolly said peevishly. ‘So it’s not a children’s party. It must be for them who are nearly grown up. Like Daniel.’

‘Aye, mebbe,’ her mother said vaguely. She too had wondered why Daniel and Maria had been invited to this gathering, which surely must be more formal than those they had attended previously. When Harriet was widowed and before she and Fletcher were married, the twins’ nanny, Mary, often called to see her, bringing the children, and on several occasions she and Daniel had been invited to the manor where Daniel played in the nursery with Charles and Beatrice.

‘You must tek ’trap, Daniel,’ she said now. ‘It’s too far for Maria to walk in her best dress and shoes and it’ll be dark when you come home.’

‘Oh, Ma! Do I have to go?’ Maria said again.

‘It’d be churlish not to, Maria,’ her mother said, ‘and it’s good to mix with other young folk.’

Fletcher offered to drive them. The party was on a Sunday, and although there were the animals to attend to as usual there was little fieldwork that could not wait another day.

‘Can we leave early?’ Maria begged. ‘Please, Da. Can we leave at seven?’

‘Eight,’ he conceded. ‘Daniel has to be up early ’following morning anyway.’

They drove down the dale towards Broomfleet and the estuary and up the long drive of the manor, taking note of the carriages and gigs depositing the guests outside the house, after which some of the vehicles were driven round to the yard at the back whilst others set off down the drive again.

‘Looks as if there are some local folks and others from out of ’district,’ Fletcher commented. ‘D’you see that some of ’drivers have gone round ’back to ’servants’ area?’

‘Mm,’ Daniel murmured. ‘I mebbe won’t know many people then after all.’

Maria gave a small moan. ‘I’ll die of fright, Da. Can Daniel say I’m not well and I’ll come back home with you?’

‘No,’ her father laughed. ‘Don’t worry; you’re as good as anybody else if that’s what’s bothering you. Don’t forget that I’m a farmer with my own land. Just like Master Hart,’ he added. ‘Though not as big.’

He pulled up at the front steps and Daniel jumped down and then helped Maria. ‘See you at eight o’clock then, Da,’ he said. ‘Come on, Maria, nobody’s going to bite you. You look very nice,’ he said warmly. ‘You’ll have all ’lads after you, but look for me if you have any bother wi’ them.’

‘Oh, but stay by me, Daniel,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t leave me.’

He kept hold of her arm as they mounted the steps. The door opened and a maid bobbed her knee and asked if she could take Maria’s wrap. Maria’s eyebrows shot up as she recognized the girl, who was a little older than herself and had been at the local school; she didn’t say hello, although Maria was sure that she knew who she was.

‘That’s Meg Hall,’ Maria murmured to Daniel as they followed her across the floor. ‘Why didn’t she speak to me?’

‘Cos she’s working,’ he said softly. ‘She’s probably been told not to speak to ’guests even if she knows them.’

‘But why?’ she asked, but Daniel was saved from answering as Charles and Beatrice came out of the drawing room to greet them.

‘Oh, Daniel! And Maria, I’m so glad that you’ve come.’ Beatrice was exuberant in her enthusiasm. ‘You’re the ones I know best!’ She lowered her voice. ‘Some of the others are sons and daughters of friends of our parents and we hardly know them at all!’

‘What a relief that you’re here,’ Charles confided to Daniel. ‘Some of the chaps from school are staying the night, and they’re not getting on very well with the locals. I need you as a sort of go-between.’

‘Me?’ Daniel was astonished. ‘But do I know them? Are they local lads?’

‘Erm, well sort of, and their sisters. One’s from Swanland, and there are some from South Cave and Market Weighton and North Ferriby; you know, all in farming or agriculture. I need you to help me out, Daniel.’

And all gentlemen farmers’ sons, I’ll bet, Daniel thought, and knew how Maria felt. He guessed, rightly, that he would know none of them.

Beatrice whisked Maria away so that she might change her shoes, chattering as she did so. ‘It’s all very well, Maria, but some of the girls, sorry,
young ladies
,’ she said, wriggling her eyebrows, ‘are expecting dancing, and we aren’t doing that, only party games, which I adore, don’t you? You look very pretty,’ she added, barely pausing for breath. ‘How fair you are. We could almost be sisters. You’re so different from Daniel.’

‘That’s because we have different fathers,’ Maria ventured. ‘Daniel’s father died when he was just a bair— a baby,’ she corrected.

‘Oh.’ Beatrice looked at her. ‘Did he? I can’t remember if I knew that.’

‘I don’t know,’ Maria shrugged, wondering if she was letting slip a family confidence. ‘Ma’s always saying that she’ll tell us ’full story one day, but she never does.’