Chapter Nine #2
‘What I came to say was the milk scheme is bedding in nicely,’ Richard said, ‘and two more farms along the valley might want to join – Gates End and Long Chill.’
‘That’s good, sir,’ Woodrow said. ‘Any news from Ashridge Park?’
That was Lord Shacklock’s estate. ‘Nothing yet,’ Richard said, and thought about his encounter with Lady Shacklock. Had that advanced or damaged the prospects? ‘But even without Ashridge, we’re moving forward, and I’d like you now to take on a new role, as my head dairyman.’
‘And what would that mean, sir?’ Woodrow asked carefully. He was not one to jump in before he knew the depth of the water.
‘The day-to-day supervision of all the farms in the scheme. Inspect them, make sure they’re keeping to the standards we require.
Advise them, encourage them. Come to me with any problems you can’t sort out yourself – which I don’t suppose will often happen.
But also come to me with any ideas that occur to you for improving the scheme.
I want us to get bigger, much bigger, and I can’t go on doing the day-to-day management myself. I want you to be my right-hand man.’
Woodrow was thinking. ‘What about the farm here, sir? If I’m to be out and about, I can’t run it myself – not without help.’
‘I understand that. You’ll need a dairyman to put in charge. Do you know of anyone suitable?’
‘There’s Tom Higgins, sir, cowman out at Marshwick. I know he’s wanting a change, since old Mr Hitching died and the young master wants to go in for arable instead. He’s a good man. But it’s too far to travel daily, and he’s married with three little ’uns.’
‘No difficulty about that. There’s a cottage coming vacant next month, a five-minute walk away, suitable for him and his family.
You will keep this house.’ He looked up at the tall, old building.
‘You’ll need a housekeeper, I imagine, since you’ll be out for much of the day, but naturally the new job will come with a rise in salary, so you’ll be able to afford one. ’
He couldn’t resist glancing at Rose as he said that, and the unspoken words unless you get a wife instead hung on the air.
Woodrow looked conscious, and opened his mouth to speak.
But Rose was no longer looking at them. She was staring towards the track, and at the same moment Fly barked. ‘Company,’ she muttered warningly.
The long-eared, black head of Hamburg appeared over the hedge, and with it the top-hatted, gaunt frame of Lord Shacklock.
He had no groom with him, a fact Richard noted, though without drawing any deduction.
Shacklock stopped his horse at the gate, which was still open, dismounted, flung the rein over the gatepost, and stalked towards Richard with a stiff gait and a scowl that made Rose’s look like a cheery smile.
‘I’ve been looking for you, Tallant,’ he said. ‘Someone said you might be here. Now I’ve found you, I’m going to teach you a lesson you won’t forget in a hurry. Come here, sir!’
He crooked a bony finger, indicating the space in front of him. Fly growled, and Woodrow muttered a silencing command. Rose had instinctively drawn nearer to him.
Richard stepped away from them towards Shacklock, but stopped well short of the indicated spot. ‘Have you something to say to me?’ he said. ‘If it’s private, I would suggest this is not the place—’
Shacklock did not wait for the end of the sentence.
‘You’ve been sniffing round my wife, you sneaking dog, and I won’t have it!
’ he barked. ‘She told me how you tried to seduce her and she had to fight you off. Now I’m going to horsewhip you, sir!
I’m going to give you the thrashing you deserve!
Are you going to stand and take it like a man, or do I have to knock you down first? ’
‘Oh, I say—!’ Woodrow began in protest, but Rose pinched his arm hard, knowing he could only make things worse. Lord Shacklock was too irate to care that there were witnesses, even if he had registered their presence, which she thought unlikely.
Richard had paled, but he held his ground. ‘I’m afraid you are under a misapprehension, sir,’ he said. ‘I did not try to seduce your wife —’
He got no further. Shacklock’s eyes bulged, his face contorted with fury.
‘Are you calling my wife a liar, sir?’ he almost screamed.
‘You filthy bounder, you cad, how dare you? By God, I should kill you for that!’ He stepped forward and struck at Richard with the handle of the whip he was holding.
Richard was taken by surprise and dodged late.
The blow, from the heavy silver cap of the whip, caught him on the collar-bone, and he lost his balance and fell.
‘Traduce a lady, to cover your own wickedness?’ Shacklock raved.
He reversed the whip and began to lash at Richard’s fallen form, Richard held up an arm to defend himself while using the other to push himself up.
‘Lord Shacklock, stop!’ Woodrow shouted. Fly was circling, looking for an opportunity to bite his lordship, while Jess was barking excitedly.
Shacklock’s head jerked round. ‘Who the devil are you?’
‘This is my farm. I can’t allow this to continue.’
‘You can’t allow it?’
Woodrow saw that Richard had used the pause to get to his feet. Rose was sidling round the back of him, ready to tend Richard if the opportunity arose.
‘This is not the way to settle a dispute,’ Woodrow said, trying to sound calm and reasonable. ‘I am sure two civilised gentlemen can find a way—’
‘Civilised?’ Shacklock shouted. ‘By God, there’s a civilised remedy all right! Name your friends, Tallant, and I’ll meet you wherever and whenever you like!’
‘I’m not going to fight a duel with you,’ Richard said thickly. One lash had caught him and there was a trickle of blood running down the side of his face, and his collar-bone ached fiercely. ‘This is all a misunderstanding. Nothing happened between me and Lady Shacklock.’
‘Duelling is forbidden by law, my lord,’ Woodrow said. ‘I’m sure you know that.’
‘Mind your business, sir!’ Shacklock barked.
‘This is nothing to do with you, whoever you are!’ But the interruptions had put him off the boil: the head of steam he had built up while searching for Richard had dissipated.
He glared at Richard, evidently at a loss.
‘This is not over!’ he snapped, pointing his whip at him.
‘I will have my satisfaction of you! You are not going to get away with this, I promise you!’
He turned away, grabbed Hamburg’s rein, jerking him round so that the unfortunate horse flung up his head with a snort of pain, and mounted with what to Richard was disconcerting agility. He jabbed his heels into Hamburg’s sides and sent him straight into a canter, back the way he had come.
There was a moment of silence in the yard, a letting out of breath without yet a lessening of tension. Both dogs had run as far as the gate to see the intruder off, and now came back to Michael Woodrow, pressing themselves against his legs and looking up at him with anxious eyes.
Rose said, ‘You’d better come in the kitchen, Mr Richard, and I’ll clean that blood off for you.
’ She spoke in a calm, matter-of-fact voice, as if he had got no more than a slight accidental scratch from a protruding nail.
Her tone lowered the temperature, and Richard saw in that moment what Woodrow might see in her – if, indeed, he was fancying her.
They walked towards the house. Woodrow said in a low voice, ‘That’s a dangerous man. You should watch out for him, sir.’
‘Don’t worry, if I see him coming I’ll head the other way, as fast as I can.’
Rose and Woodrow exchanged a glance.
Woodrow was wondering whether there was anything in Lord Shacklock’s accusation.
He had heard tell that Mr Richard was ‘a devil with the ladies’, and that Lady Shacklock was much younger than her lord, and too pretty for him: there were rumours that she had taken lovers.
Might Mr Richard have been one of them? If so, he was a fool to play around so close to home.
He hoped it had indeed been a misunderstanding.
He didn’t want to think less of his employer.
Rose was thinking that Lord Shacklock was quite mad, and that next time he might come after Mr Richard with a gun, so he’d better watch his back.
As for the details of any supposed sexual encounter, they did not interest her.
She knew what men did when they had the opportunity. They were all pretty much alike.
‘I think you’re in love with Mr Wentworth,’ said Bron, as she and Alice walked to school.
Alice was startled out of a half-reverie. ‘Oh, nonsense,’ she said uneasily.
Bron glanced at her sideways. ‘All the symptoms are there. You talk about him all the time, and you get that expression on your face. You know the look Millie Watson gets when she’s talking about her fiancé Mr Phillipson back home: the faithful spaniel gazing at its master.’
‘I do not! It’s not fair to tease me. Suppose someone heard you and took you seriously?’
Bron ceased smiling. ‘I’m not entirely joking. I worry about you.’
‘I don’t know what you’re suggesting!’
‘I’m suggesting you’re getting a wee bit too fond of him, and it’s not wise.’
‘As a teacher, nothing else,’ Alice said. ‘I’m…awestruck by him. And you would be too, if he took you on.’
‘Hmm,’ said Bron, evidently not convinced. ‘Well, as long as that’s all it is, be awestruck by all means. But don’t confuse the artist with his art, will you? He’s not just a great painter, he’s also a handsome man.’
‘I never even notice that,’ Alice said.