Prologue #2
“Tomorrow,” Mr Garth said. “Let us take advantage of this spell of fine weather, which may not last. We will lodge overnight at Kidderminster.” He glanced at the letter again.
“Staineybank, Brinshire. Violetta, you will read the guide books to find out the principal features of the house. Edward, check the peerage to find out who we might expect to meet there. We must be prepared.”
“Tomorrow?” Mrs Garth said in alarm. “So soon? Is that necessary? May I read the letter, my dear?”
“No need,” her husband said airily. “I have informed you of the salient points. I believe, in view of the imminence of our departure, we may curtail our breakfast for once and begin making preparations for our journey without delay. We should expect to be at Staineybank for at least a fortnight.”
***
Cal had dug and dug until his arms ached. He was still digging when Violetta found him, late in the afternoon.
“There you are, Uncle Cal! I have been looking everywhere for you. You were not at morning prayers today.”
“I can talk to God just as well out here. You’re out late, Miss Vi. You usually take your walk in the morning.”
“We are all at sixes and sevens today, and Mama is so cross there is no bearing it. She hates surprises.”
Cal waited, knowing that she would tell him all about it before long. She could never keep a secret.
“There was a letter for you today, but Papa took it. He said it was a mistake, and that it was for him.”
“Likely it was. No one ever writes to me.”
“But it was your name, ‘Calvin’, although it could have been ‘Garth’ or ‘Garford’. There was a big blot over it. I assumed it was ‘Garford’, but now that I think about it, it might very well have been ‘Garth’. It was franked by the Duke of Brinshire.”
Cal laughed, resting on his spade. “Definitely not for me, then. I’ve certainly never met the Duke of Brinshire and can’t think of a single reason why he might write to me.”
“It is something to do with the woods, but I cannot find it out precisely. Papa is very secretive about it. However, we are all to go to Brinshire to meet the duke. Papa will talk about timber with his grace, Edward and I are to learn about superior society and Mama will memorise everything so that she can boast about it to Lady Nutting. Yes, yes, I know I should not talk about her like that, but I only do so to you, and I know you will never betray me. I thought she was bad enough with the new footman, for it was absolutely necessary to have one more than her ladyship, you understand, but to be staying at the home of a duke! Poor Lady Nutting will never be able to hold up her head in the county after this, for her highest acquaintance, as we are all well aware, is a mere earl.”
That made Cal laugh again, but he shook his head at her all the same. He liked Violetta very well, but one day her unruly tongue would get her into trouble.
“We shall be away for a fortnight, at least. Will you miss me, Uncle Cal?”
“No, you little minx.”
“That is not very gallant,” she said cheerfully. “Well, I shall miss you. Cal… you will not go away, will you? Now that the woods have gone, I mean.”
“Don’t know where I’d go, Miss Vi, and that’s the truth. I’ve never lived anywhere else.”
“How can you bear it, with all the trees gone, and the deer and the squirrels and the bats? You knew everything about Hanger Wood and now there is nothing left. I loved it too, but not in the way that you did. It is almost like a death.”
“It’s your father’s land to do with as he pleases, Miss Vi. I’ll get over it, and you’ll have a grand season in town from the proceeds.”
She pulled a face. “Do you know, sometimes I wish my father were of less account in the world, with no one expecting me to make a brilliant match and improve our standing in society. Then I could be a housemaid, and have nothing to worry about but the odd cobweb, and I could marry a farm labourer and live in a little cottage, like you do. I could marry you! That would be fun, do you not think, for you are my best friend in the whole world and I am sure I am yours.”
Cal shook his head at her. “A fine pair we’d be, with me old enough to be your grandfather… well, almost.”
“You never seem old, whereas Papa— Oh, no, is that the church clock striking? I must go. Goodbye, Uncle Cal. I shall miss you while I am away. Goodbye!”
And she was gone, skipping light-footed away down the path and out of the kitchen garden.
Cal smiled, for he was fond of her. She was the only one of the Garth children who had shown any interest in him, following him about the woods or down to the river, with her maid plodding behind.
He had always had a little group of interested village children, to whom he showed the signs of deer passing by or the well-hidden fox’s den, pointed out the shy orchids and taught them the difference between edible fungi and poisonous.
From the Priory, however, she alone had come and listened to him.
He had watched her grow from a somewhat plump child, stumbling over tree roots and slipping in the mud, her hair falling out of its plaits, to an elegant young lady with crimped curls framing her face.
But she still ran everywhere, she still exuded the same joyful spirit and she still called him ‘Uncle Cal’, just as the village children did.
Cal hoped she would always have the same joy in life, that she would not grow sour and cynical as she aged.
Her destiny was so much harder than his, for she would always be ruled by a man.
Her father now, then her husband and eventually her sons.
Whereas Cal, even with his spade, had a freedom Violetta could not imagine.
His own woods, his special woods, had gone, but there were other woods.
He just had to walk a bit further, that was all.
Perhaps tomorrow he would walk over to Colonel Fenton’s woods.
He smiled, and set to with his spade again.