‘Oh, I made those myself,’ Sarah said, and turned to Catherine. ‘So beautiful as you are, you’ll be certain to find a handsome husband at court, mistress—but make sure you choose a kind man, for in the end a peaceful, loving home is what makes a woman happy.’
‘I thank you for your good wishes, ma’am.’
Catherine wondered if Sir Nicholas would return before they left, but in the next breath Sarah told them that the men would not come home before the evening. Catherine was conscious of a feeling of disappointment; though she did not know why she should feel anything for a man she had met but briefly and would probably never meet again. He had been pleasant enough when they met in the kitchen garden, but the image of him amongst those drunken idlers remained with her.
‘Well, Catherine,’ Lady Stamford said when they were settled in their carriage having said farewell to their hostess, ‘I do hope that we shall have no more adventures on the road, fortunate as this one turned out.’
‘We were indeed fortunate, Aunt. Sarah and Mr Middleton were generous hosts.’
‘And Sir Nicholas.’ Lady Stamford looked at her hard. ‘I hope you will be more disposed to greet him kindly should he decide to call upon us in London.’
‘I was not aware he was intending to visit London.’
Catherine’s heart had begun to throb rather oddly as she waited for her aunt’s reply. It was most unaccountable! Why should she be so affected by the rogue?
‘Indeed yes. Mistress Middleton told me that the Queen’s most trusted adviser had summoned him there. Sir Nicholas was named for his father, who was a friend to Cecil. Unfortunately, the father died some three years back, having never quite recovered from a lingering illness he contracted while a prisoner in the Tower for some months during Mary’s reign, and then the untimely death of his eldest son, Harry. It was because of that friendship between Cecil and Sir Nicholas’s father that he may have a brilliant future open to him at court.’
Catherine wrinkled her brow in thought. ‘Do you think Sir Nicholas an ambitious man, Aunt?’
‘All men of sense are ambitious.’
Lady Stamford had settled into her corner, cushions at her back and a rug over her lap. She closed her eyes, leaving Catherine to stare out of the window at the countryside. Some of the land to either side of the high road was commons and grazed by animals belonging to village folk, but more often now enclosure was encroaching on land that had once been open to all. The walls of large estates had altered ancient boundaries, often causing hardship to the poor.
‘It is so unfair,’ Catherine had complained to her father when one of their neighbours took away a stretch of land that had previously been common land. ‘He has so much, and they have so little.’
‘It is the fault of rising prices,’ Sir William explained. ‘Land owners can get no more rent for the land they have let to tenants for years past, but they must find more coin for everything they buy. Therefore, they must take more land into enclosure, and if they have title to it…the right is theirs.’
Put like that, Catherine could understand why some landowners felt justified in enclosing land, but she knew that their actions caused much suffering for others.
Were the Middletons like other farming gentry and forced to take land that had once been free for all? They had seemed prosperous to Catherine—and judging by the supper talk the previous evening, Sir Nicholas was a man of some substance.
Catherine’s thoughts returned once more to the man who had rescued them the previous afternoon. Why could she not dismiss the incident from her mind? It mattered not if he thought her a cold, mannerless wretch. As indeed she had been the previous afternoon and evening, though she had tried to be more conciliatory in the garden—at least until he had looked at her so oddly.
He was charming, but undoubtedly an ambitious rogue and it would be better for her peace of mind if she instantly forgot him, as no doubt he had already forgotten her.
‘What think you?’ Matthew looked at his brother-in-law as they surveyed the stretch of good land by the river. ‘It has always belonged to my family, but we thought it well to keep it as it is, a pretty stretch of sweet grass that all may graze. In summer I may have a few sheep here myself, though ’tis oft flooded in winter.’
Nick’s eyes were serious as they rested on the strong, rather craggy features of Sarah’s husband. It had been a good match for his sister, one that he had approved soon after his father’s death. He knew Matthew to be a good man and understood he was troubled by his conscience. He had waited for Nick’s return before making any decision, simply because he found it a thorny problem.
‘You have the right to erect your fences,’ Nick said, knowing that Matthew would be guided by his opinion. ‘But it will cause hardship for the villagers.’
‘Aye, I know it,’ Matthew replied heavily. ‘It goes against the grain with me, but I need more land under cultivation…’
‘Why not take that piece of scrub to the north border?’ Nick suggested. ‘It will need more work to bring it round, but you may call upon the village folk to help you. Make it clear that you need more land and ask for their help in preparing the scrub in return for keeping this wash open for all.’
The frown cleared from Matthew’s brow and he smiled in gratitude. ‘Aye, I’ll do it. I’ve not asked for the accustomed days in labour for many a year, for we all pay in coin these days—but I’ll take the labour in lieu of the land, and all may be satisfied. Sarah told me to consult you, and as usual she was right.’
‘My sister flourishes,’ Nick replied with a soft chuckle, affection and warmth in his eyes. He was fond of Sarah and she of him. ‘You have spoiled her and yet she is less fiery than of yore. Tell me, what kind of magic have you used to tame her?’
‘’Tis love, nothing more,’ Matthew answered with a smile. ‘Speaking of fiery wenches…what of Mistress Moor? Think you she was an uncommon beauty? That red hair and those eyes, and the whiteness of that skin…such a woman might tempt any man to madness.’
‘Do not let Sarah hear you,’ Nick warned, his eyes full of wicked laughter. ‘She will take a broom to you, I swear! But you are right, Matthew, Catherine Moor is a beauty, though she seemed overly proud and a little cold to me.’
‘Cold?’ Matthew raised his brows incredulously. ‘No, Brother, you cannot be serious? I would swear there was fire simmering beneath the ice. She has a haughty bearing I’ll grant you, but that is but a façade I dare swear. I vow it would be entertaining to see what lies beneath that cool manner, and would be tempted to probe for it right lustily were I not a married man.’
‘I’ll admit that a wench of that ilk is tempting to any man,’ Nicholas said, a smile on his lips as he remembered the way Mistress Catherine had glared at him. Even in the garden she had still seemed reserved and cool, though she had blushed when he first caught her amongst the herbs. It was probably true that there was fire beneath the ice, and in other circumstances he might have been tempted to breach the walls of the citadel, for he was a man of lusty habits and had taken his first wench when but fourteen in the hayloft of his home. Unfortunately, he had other more important matters on his mind and could not spare the time for dalliance.
‘When do you leave for London?’ Matthew asked as they remounted their horses, setting out to inspect further pastures that Matthew had a mind to plough up and put down to grain that year. The export of wool was frowned on these days, and the call was for more grain to keep down the price of bread, which like everything else had been rising of late. ‘Sarah is hoping you will stay a while.’
‘A few days at least,’ Nicholas replied. ‘I must be in town within a fortnight, but I have someone else I would wish to see first and it will take me some days to ride to Leicester and back. I may go tomorrow, then join you at the weekend again for a couple of days before