7 A Runaway #2
Cal’s hut was empty, the fireplace laid ready, but not yet lit.
No chance of a cup of tea, then. She prowled restlessly around the hut for a few minutes, noting the neat pile of blankets in the corner where he presumably slept, and a stack of logs beside the fire.
He was a tidy man, Cal Garford, but then in so small a hut, tidiness was essential.
Now that Cal’s cottage was destroyed, this tiny hut would surely become his new home.
In her mind, she filled the room with furniture — a better table, more chairs, plates, knives, spoons, pots for the fire, perhaps some shelves for books and a small vase of wild flowers.
He would like those better than hot house blooms, she was sure.
And a bed. There would have to be a proper bed.
She went outside and sat on the bench again.
He would sit there every night now, working to turn a piece of wood into a rabbit, or just watching the sun set behind the house.
He would have a pot of ale beside him, and perhaps a piece of pie or some bread and cheese for his supper.
Then he would go to his bed, and be lulled to sleep by the gentle sound of the trees, or the birds singing.
There was a bird singing away nearby — how she wished he was there to tell her what it was!
But he was not there, and it must be almost time to dress for dinner. Slowly, because she just might meet him going the other way, she made her way back to the house, but the only person she saw was Ben Lovell, making his way home to his cottage beside the Brin.
There was not a great deal of pleasure to be expected from dinner that evening, except that Cal was there.
There would be no opportunity to talk to him, for he and Miss Garth were the focus of everyone’s attention, but he was wearing a different coat, somewhat smarter than his usual evening attire, which set Cora wondering.
He looked very well in it, quite the gentleman, although his hair was not in keeping, being very much as nature had devised, without the aid of pomade or a fashionable cut.
She rather liked it, and very much wished she could run her fingers through those shaggy locks.
Miss Garth looked a great deal better than on her former visit, for she had borrowed a gown from the duchess, to judge by its quality and elegant style, and her hair, previously held in tight ringlets about her face, was now in soft, flowing curls that emphasised her delicate beauty.
It was a pity there were no unmarried young men to be dazzled by her, apart from that constant admirer of the female form, Mr Godley.
The famous book was brought to show everyone before dinner, but it failed to reach the secluded corner where Cora sat with Cousin Hester, another woman past her prime and ceding her place in the hierarchy to a younger woman.
She regretted that her illness kept her from the efficient management of Staineybank she had maintained for twenty years or so, although she expressed nothing but gratitude to Charlotte who had usurped her r?le so effortlessly.
It was Charlotte who bustled over to Cora’s corner as soon as she arrived in the White Drawing Room.
“Mama, are you quite well? You did not do the flowers today, and I had to set Sarah to it when I realised, and that made everything behindhand in the kitchen.”
“Oh… I had forgot it was the day for the flowers. I beg your pardon, Charlotte, but it was such a fine day that I went out for a walk. I will try to remember in future.”
“Well, you may do as you please, I am sure, but next time if you could let me know at breakfast, so that I can put someone else onto it and not have Froggett coming to me late in the afternoon with the news that the hall flowers have not been done. It is so much easier to plan these things if I know in advance.”
And away she went, perhaps to berate someone else for neglecting their duties.
Hester chewed her lip anxiously. “The flowers… that is a task I might be able to manage.”
“Nonsense,” Cora said. “You are sick, Hester. You have a valid excuse.”
“But you are sick, too.”
“Me? I am perfectly well.”
“Lovesick, Cora. A severe case, too.”
“Oh. Is it as obvious as that?”
Hester smiled. “Only to me, perhaps. I do very little these days except sit and watch everyone else, and I can hardly help but notice that you watch him all the time.” A long pause, and then she went on softly, “Do you want to marry him?”
“No!” Cora said, surprising herself with her vehemence.
“That was very decided,” Hester said, chuckling.
“Of course, his lowly status makes him wholly ineligible, and he is not taking the opportunity to lift himself up a little. He is to live in the charcoal burner’s hut, did you hear that?
He cannot go back to the Garths now, so he will stay here and live out in the woods like a tramp.
So there is no question of marrying him. No question at all.”
But Cora did not quite see it that way. She was not entirely sure why she was so disinclined to marry again, but it had nothing to do with Cal’s living quarters, of that much she was certain.
She was pleased that he was now sure to stay at Staineybank, but her optimistic heart had never for a moment entertained the idea that he might leave.
How could he possibly leave when she needed him so much?
She had even assumed he would live at the hut in the woods, and had mentally filled it with furniture for him.
Dinner was enlivened by Violetta Garth, who clung to Cal, as to a spar in a shipwreck, but she also wanted to be beside Cora, too, having settled on her as a motherly sort during her previous visit.
Thus she made a great fuss until she had her two designated friends either side of her.
Cora did not mind that, for although she could not talk to him herself during the meal, she was near enough to hear all that was said between Violetta and Cal, and caught delightful glimpses of him now and then, when Violetta leaned a little backwards or Cal leaned forwards.
When the ladies withdrew, Violetta brought the famous book to Cora, and allowed her to leaf through its pages, still smelling slightly of smoke but thankfully undamaged.
Each page was about a related group of plants, with an engraved page showing every part of the life cycle, from seed to shoot to seedling and all the way to maturity, including leaves, blossoms and fruit, where appropriate.