Chapter 9
9
ELOISE
‘What do you know of cricket, Rose?’ Eloise asked.
Her young maid had been an age sectioning and plaiting her long blonde hair, skilfully pinning an expensive false piece to the back of her head to create the highly fashionable style so popular in the big cities, but probably wasted on the rural folk of Lowbridge.
‘Very little,’ Rose replied, finishing the arrangement with a decorative tortoiseshell comb.
Eloise reached for her small coral pendant and fastened it around her neck. It was an inexpensive item that she’d purchased long before her family’s change in fortunes, amused by its supposed ability to bring good luck. It had certainly done its job, although she wasn’t entirely convinced that a piece of some long-dead sea creature was responsible for their newfound wealth. Her mother would tut, wondering why her daughter insisted on wearing such a tawdry item, but Eloise like the colour.
‘Apparently the village has a team and they are playing the neighbouring parish next Saturday afternoon. I know little of the game myself, but Father informs me that a man defends some sticks in the ground with a bat, as a cork ball covered in leather is hurled in his direction.’
‘I’m sure it’s somewhat more involved than that,’ her maid said, smiling.
‘I thought I might watch so perhaps you’d kindly look out an appropriate summer dress for the occasion? Father always says autumn shades reflect in my eyes and make them shine like freshly fallen conkers, but June is surely a month for soft pinks and sky blues. Something in a pastel colour would be perfect.’ She paused. ‘Do you think the young Mr Thornbury will be asked to play?’
‘I’m not sure, but I can enquire. The vicar, who I understand captains the team, is not enamoured of the Thornburys after the young man told him that those who attend church and boast of their good works are often the least compassionate and most dishonest people he knows.’
‘I, for one, admire his refreshing honesty. We all know that the grocer makes a huge show of what he puts in the collection plate, but Cook is convinced that the finest-quality flour that he charges double for, comes from the same sack as the standard flour.’
Eloise was fascinated by the stir the new arrivals were causing in the village. That they openly challenged the church, an institution she herself long felt was a hotbed of hypocrisy, was incredibly brave and rather thrilling. Daniel Thornbury had also confronted the schoolmaster over the man’s firm belief in the absolute obedience of children, insisting instead that it was vital for them to question and challenge. And she had been at the village May Day celebrations and overheard his conversation in the presence of Lord and Lady Fletcher about privilege and entitlement, quoting Plato, of all people.
He was clearly an intelligent man who was fighting a society that only gave opportunities to those born into the right families. In fact, she’d been so intrigued by the philosophies and ideas he talked of that she’d read up about the social reformer Robert Owen after Daniel had mentioned his name in a conversation about the duty of employers to their staff. It was rather eye-opening how he’d transformed the lives of the villagers at New Lanark with his belief that happier workers were more productive. When her father came across her flicking through such books in his study, he was pleasantly surprised. The thing of it was, she’d always been bright, but had never bothered to apply herself before.
However, Eloise’s opinions did not always align with those of the young Mr Thornbury. He talked of abolishing the monarchy and she quite liked Queen Victoria. And she noticed that his advocating of equal rights for all didn’t always extend to the gentler sex. His vision of an ideal world involved the redistribution of wealth so that everyone had an equal share, and there was a small part of her that, having come so late as a family to their personal fortune and seeing how much easier it made life for her hard-working father, she would rather like to hang on to it. She might not agree with everything he stood for, but for the first time since moving to Lowbridge, Eloise was engaged and felt passionately about all manner of things – including Daniel.
The Saturday of the match, Eloise looked out across the village green as a well-turned-out older chap in a cloth cap walked back and forth with a garden roller. Swallows were darting about in the skies above Lowbridge, a sure sign summer had arrived. She flung open her small casement window and the scent from the bed of white stocks beneath her drifted into the room; the day promised sunshine and joy – both of which it delivered.
The first of the strawberries had been picked from the gardens, enough for one small bowlful, which her parents graciously allowed her to have in its entirety. She then spent her morning getting ready, giddy with anticipation.
But when the housekeeper informed Eloise that the match was shortly to begin, her mother cried off, claiming a headache, and her father had already left for London, having been invited to spend the evening at a gentleman’s club. Still not having made a great many friends, and certainly none of her own age, she requested Rose accompany her, to give her someone to talk to, if nothing else.
They laid out a blanket in front of the Thornburys’ cottage, under the shade of an old elm, but she was disappointed that Daniel and his father were nowhere to be seen. With neither girl understanding the rules of the game, the match dragged. After the loud crack of the bat making contact with the hard ball, there was always a polite ripple of applause. She clapped when the people around her clapped, but she had little interest in two men running back and forth in a tiny rectangle of grass.
After the first innings, they queued up for a plate of dainty sandwiches and slivers of fruit cake, all being served in a marquee set up on a lawn behind the church.
‘I thought you said Daniel Thornbury was coming, but I can’t see him anywhere.’ Eloise had hoped to impress him with her reading.
‘That’s what I was told, miss. But perhaps he is not a man who honours his word. He seems earnest in his beliefs but frivolous in his pursuits. I’ve heard talk that he regularly swims in the Bran…’ she lowered her voice, ‘…in nothing but what the good Lord brought him into this world wearing.’
Eloise blushed at the thought of the unclothed body of the young man in question, removing her gloves as she was handed a plate. She tried to clear her mind of the alarming vision by changing the subject .
‘I really don’t think I can sit through several more hours of this stupid game. Let’s have our afternoon tea and then return home.’
After consuming more cake than was good for them, the pair headed back to the green and were surprised to encounter the object of Eloise’s affections, sitting on a bench underneath an ancient yew, at the front of the church. He had his nose in a book and did not look up, even when she stopped directly in front of him, her shadow falling across the pages.
‘Mr Thornbury,’ she said, in mock severity. ‘I didn’t think to find you in a churchyard, of all places. I thought you and God were not on speaking terms.’
‘I’m here for the shade, not the religion.’ He met her eye but there was no smile to match her own. He also did not immediately jump to his feet as most gentlemen would, and instead returned to his reading.
‘Not for the cricket? I was expecting to see you out on the field,’ she said, frustrated at his reluctance to engage in conversation.
‘I’ve been asked, because I’m young and they are desperate, but I’ve barely been here a month. Not really a game for the likes of me; it’s a sport for the entitled. Saturated with tradition, full of unnecessary theatrics and ridiculous language, and with so many interruptions that it fails to adequately hold my attention. I’m far happier improving my knowledge than my spin bowl.’
‘I quite agree. One can learn so much from a book. I have recently ordered some of Robert Owen’s essays from the public library in Branchester, in a bid to expand my limited, and rather privileged, horizons.’
Daniel closed his book and studied her face as he finally got to his feet. ‘You know of Owen?’
She nodded. ‘Interesting man who certainly practised what he preached,’ she said, feeling confident that she had hooked her fish. ‘He was to be admired. And if you would care to join us as the match resumes, we can continue this most interesting discussion.’
‘May I be excused now, miss?’ Rose’s anxious eyes met her own. She was not comfortable in the presence of Mr Thornbury and Eloise understood – she felt quite nervous of him herself.
‘Of course.’ She smiled at the kind girl who always did as she was bid without complaint.
Daniel was persuaded to join her on the blanket as the second innings began. There was no denying he was handsome, if a little rough around the edges. His calloused hands alone were proof of an honest day’s work, and she rather liked that. He wasn’t stuffy and formal, but open and relaxed. And, as it turned out, had the same lack of regard for the silly game they were watching as she did. Their conversation was animated and informative, and had absolutely nothing to do with cricket.
The Fletchers wandered past, attending the game in their capacity as village squire and squire’s wife, and stopped to speak to them, or rather to Eloise. They had been slow to make associations with her family, having learned that the Haughtons’ wealth was a more recent acquisition, but remained keen to be seen as benevolent landowners. Lady Fletcher was also possibly flattered by her mother’s fawning attentions, and saw it as her duty to save young Miss Haughton from a situation she did not require saving from.
‘Miss Haughton, you must sit with us. We insist,’ Lady Fletcher said, looking down her nose at Daniel, who had got to his feet as they had approached. ‘I’m sure this young man won’t mind if I steal you to discuss the upcoming rota for the church flowers.’
‘Not a bit,’ Daniel said. Her companion was already making moves to leave, and Eloise was a little disappointed that he was so indifferent to her company. ‘I’ve seen enough of the game, and Milton’s ideas regarding free will are calling me.’ He reached down to collect his volume from the grass. ‘I only popped out for the fresh air and to ascertain the score for Father, who is feeling under the weather today.’
‘Do pass on our regards.’ Lady Fletcher dug particularly deep for her manners. ‘And how are you and your father settling in to your… small cottage?’
‘Small suits us. It has two bedrooms and there are two of us. I have never aspired to live in a large house with more bedrooms than occupants.’
‘Ah, a liberal?’ Lord Fletcher spoke for the first time. ‘Or perhaps a revolutionary?’
Daniel shrugged. ‘Better to fight for a world where every man has equal opportunities and rights, than to sit back and accept a world where it is only the accident of your birth that determines your worth.’
It was all said without malice, Eloise noticed. He was stating facts and expressing his opinions with the most disarming smile across his face.
‘Well, really…’ Lady Fletcher blushed a deep pink. ‘Miss Haughton?’ She stuck out her arm to allow the younger woman to step with her away from this indelicate conversation, and Eloise hardly felt she could refuse.
Daniel bowed deferentially as they took their leave and, as she dared a backwards glance, she was jerked back in line by her irate companion.