Chapter 16
Blythe hung the last corn dolly in the tithe barn. The barley had been sold, and now garlands of red, brown and orange leaves covered every surface.
Mama bustled around, instructing the maids regarding the placement of the pies, meat joints, fresh bread and fruit displays on the long trestle table covered with linen tablecloths.
Outside, singing and laughter grew louder.
They all dashed out of the large double doors to welcome home the last waggon of wheat.
Noddy, the huge Shire horse, turned into the farmyard.
Colourful ribbons and wildflowers decorated the horse and the waggon.
On top of the waggon, overflowing with crops, sat the local children, all giggling and rosy-cheeked, including Violet.
The hired hands immediately began to unload the wheat.
Violet jumped down from the waggon. “Grandpapa says we are to have a party tonight to celebrate the good harvest, and I can stay up as late as I like!”
“We shall see.”
Violet’s lower lip protruded.
Blythe said, “Go and play, but there are only a few hours until the harvest supper, and you will want to wash and put on a nice dress, will you not?”
Violet ran into the barn with her friends.
“Blythe, fetch the plum puddings,” Mama ordered before returning to the barn.
In the kitchen, Jane packed rounds of cheese into baskets.
“What are you doing?”
“I need to move.” Jane placed a hand on the small of her back. “It’s nagging at me like a fishwife.”
Blythe nudged Jane’s hand aside and rubbed small circles along her spine. “Is it time?”
“Maybe, but it’s still early.”
“Shall I send for Doctor Sharpe? We should tell Mama and John.”
“No!” Jane stepped away from Blythe’s ministrations.
“I’m certain it’s just another twinge. Besides, your mam has too much to do organising the harvest supper.
” Jane waved a hand across the table laden with cheese, crusty rolls and boiled puddings.
“I wanted to help. I refuse to bother others when they’ve all looked forward to this evening. ”
“This is not the time to be selfless. Rest, and I will check on you later.”
Jane waddled out of the kitchen.
After several trips back and forth, the trestle tables looked as though they might collapse beneath the weight of abundant food.
Mama set her fists on her hips. “I think we’ve done ourselves proud, my dears. No one can say we’re not generous with our harvest supper fare.”
“Indeed, not.” Blythe nodded. “There is enough food here to feed an army.”
Mama clapped her hands with a beaming smile. “Let us refresh ourselves before the festivities begin.”
Before the looking glass in her bedroom, Blythe pinched her cheeks, then headed to Jane’s room.
Jane sat in the rocking chair, knitting what appeared to be a tiny bonnet. “Oh, you look beautiful, Blythe.”
“You are very kind.” Blythe ran a hand down the shimmering sapphire silk. “Is it too grand for a harvest supper?”
“Definitely not.” Jane beamed.
“How do you feel?”
“The twinges have ceased. A rest is all I need.”
Blythe placed her hands on her hips. “You are not trying to placate me, are you?” She would not put it past Jane to hide her condition until the situation became desperate.
“Of course not.” Jane smirked. “You look just like your mam.”
Blythe dropped her hands with a huff of disgust.
Jane continued to giggle. “Enjoy the harvest supper. Perhaps you’ll be able to dance with Doctor Sharpe.”
“I doubt that.” The ache in her chest flared. He would never speak to her again, let alone ask her to dance.
The clicking of Jane’s needles ceased. “What do you mean? I could have sworn you had developed an attachment once again. Not that I believe it was ever broken. Don’t think I haven’t noticed him sneaking into the cowshed like he used to do when you were sweethearts.”
“You knew?”
Jane raised her dark brows in mock disapproval. “This room overlooks the cowshed.”
Blythe wandered to the window and stared at the building that evoked both affection and now sorrow. “I told him the truth.”
“Oh.”
Oh, indeed. The view beyond the diamond-paned windows blurred. “It was not meant to be. I have hurt him twice now, Jane, and I cannot expect his forgiveness.”
“He never asked me about you. Not that I would ever say anything, for it is not my place. Your mam swore us to secrecy, and you know I dare not risk her displeasure.”
Blythe turned on her heel. “Must I remind you that we agreed not to let my mama’s opinions dictate our actions?”
“That is easier said than done.”
“I agree, and I know it makes me a hypocrite, but I have told her I will return to York after Michaelmas.”
“I thought it was just the festivities that had made her so cheerful.” Jane dropped her knitting in her lap. “Must you go? It has been lovely to have you home again, and Violet seems so happy, as did you.”
Music drifted through the open window. Blythe seized the opportunity to leave. She would not burden Jane with her concerns. Despite the selfless woman’s protestations, her child would likely arrive before the night was out.
“I should go, but I will return every half hour to check on you.”
“There is no need. Enjoy yourself.”
Blythe snorted.
Gabriel leaned against the wattle and daub wall of the ancient tithe barn, cradling his tankard of Mrs Dixon’s beer.
The jaunty tune of a fiddle and drum, overlaid with rousing voices and laughter, rang through the building. The light from the lanterns strung between the rafters provided a soft glow upon the merry party.
At the centre of the gathering, dancers hopped, skipped and spun their partners. Those who stood at the edges clapped to the beat. The fiddler played a long chord, signalling the end of the dance. Couples changed partners and reformed the set.
Across the barn, yet another man stopped to talk to Blythe.
His fingers tightened around his tankard. The deep-blue silk of her gown shimmered, and the highlights in the soft blonde ringlets at her temples gleamed in the glow of the lanterns.
His reckless heart did not care that she had concealed the conception of their child—that she had trusted her mother’s judgment more than she had trusted in them.
Would a child have been ideal when he was a medical student with barely a penny to his name?
No, but he would have found a way. His family would have supported them regardless of what her mother’s waspish tongue had insinuated.
The pain in his heart flared. Their child had existed but for a short time, yet he had had no notion of it.
It was his fault, not Blythe’s. How could he have been so reckless? Worse, he had left her to deal with the consequences of his carelessness alone.
Mother Dixon’s beer burned on the way down his gullet. He was to blame.
John approached with a frown. “Is something wrong with Mam’s beer?”
“Did you know?”
The furrows in John’s brow deepened. “Did I know what?”
“Did you know why Blythe jilted me?” Gabriel demanded through gritted teeth.
John looked over his shoulder before he grabbed Gabriel’s arm and led him to an empty corner of the barn. “Why are you asking now?”
“Just answer the question!” he demanded.
“I never understood why she jilted you when it was clear that she—”
Gabriel pushed John into the wall, and his friend’s eyes widened. “Did she tell you why?”
John shook his head. “Only that she preferred Simmonds, and when I questioned her decision, Mam and Blythe told me to mind my own business.”
Gabriel’s fist balled into John’s cravat. “And you did not think to delve deeper.”
“You know my Mam and Blythe.” John held his hands wide. “I swear I knew no other reason, although I always suspected there was more to it.”
Gabriel unfurled his fist. John did not deserve his ire.
“What do I not know?”
Ignoring John, Gabriel glanced across the barn.
Blythe slipped out of the tall doorway again. Where was she off to? Who was she meeting?
“I apologise.” He shoved his tankard into John’s hand and followed her out. “Blythe!”
She ignored him.
He crossed the yard and grabbed her arm. “There are matters we must discuss.”
She shrugged off his hand. “Now is not the time. Return to the supper and enjoy the evening.”
“I am not enjoying it, and neither are you.”
“I have other things on my mind. Now, if you will excuse me.” She headed for the house.
“As do I, and we should discuss it.”
She stopped before the kitchen door. “What is there to discuss? I lied to you; I broke my promise to you and your mother. I abandoned you to marry a rich man and concealed the conception of your child. We cannot be friends, and we would be better off not being acquaintances, but until I leave, we will have to tolerate each other.”
His heart skipped a beat. “But you said you planned to stay.”
“That was while I was still under the delusion that I would—” she scoffed “—it does not matter what I believed. I was wrong. And I do not blame you for hating me. It is no less than I deserve.”
He followed her inside. “Do not say that.”
Over her shoulder she said, “Gabriel, I cannot forgive myself, so why should I allow anyone else to? Now please go back to the barn while I check on Jane.”
“Is something wrong?”
Blythe spun. “She says not, but I suspect the baby will arrive before morning.”
“Why did you not send for me or my mother?”
“Jane thinks she should not intrude on people’s celebrations.”
“Let me examine her to be certain.”
“Very well.” Blythe sighed.
He followed her up the creaking staircase and down the hall to the last room on the left. After a quick rap, Jane’s muffled voice granted them entrance.
Blythe opened the door. “Doctor Sharpe insists on examining you.”
From the rocking chair, Jane said, “There is no need. Go back to the festivities. I do not wish to be a nuisance.”
He shrugged off his coat and hung it on the nail on the back of the door. “If you are about to give birth, you should not do so alone.”
“I’ve had four babies. I know what I’m doing.”
“For once, stop playing the martyr and let the doctor examine you.” Blythe’s sharp tone brooked no argument.