Nicholas answered thickly, with a dark look, ‘Yes.’
‘I feared they might. They – can do bad things, parents.’ Nicholas did not answer. Barak said, ‘I know all about it. But I know another thing, too. Money is money, wherever it’s from. There’s as much here as five poor men would earn in a year. Take it, spend it, put two fingers up to them.’
Nicholas met his gaze. Then slowly he nodded and reached out his hand to the money.
I said, ‘You will stay?’
‘For now, sir, while I think.’
Barak clapped him on the shoulder. ‘That’s a good lad. Come on then, work to do.’ He gave Nicholas a weary, worldly grin, which, after a moment, the boy returned.
ON SATURDAY, I HAD the first good news in some time, though even that was not unmixed. I was sitting in the parlour, pondering whether to invite Guy for dinner the following week. I had been heartened by the small steps towards reconciliation we had taken at the hospital, but still worried that he might refuse. There was a knock at the door and Agnes Brocket entered. She seemed full of suppressed excitement. I wondered if there had been better news of her son. But she said, ‘Sir, Goodman Brown, Josephine’s young man, has called. He asked if he might talk to you.’
I laid down my pen. ‘Do you know about what?’
She took a step closer, clasping her hands. ‘Sir, perhaps I should not say, but I always think it well for people not to be taken by surprise in important things. So – in confidence – he wishes to ask your approval to marry Josephine.’
I stared at her. I liked Brown; I was glad Josephine had found a swain, it had made her happier and more confident. But this was unexpected. I said, ‘This is sudden. Josephine is not—’
She flushed with embarrassment. ‘Oh no, sir, no, it is nothing like that.’
‘But they have not been seeing each other long, have they?’
‘Nearly four months now, sir.’
‘Is it so long? I had forgot.’
‘They have no plans for a hasty marriage,’ Agnes said, a trifle reproachfully. ‘But I believe they are truly in love, and wish to be betrothed.’
I smiled. ‘Then show Master Brown in.’
The young man was nervous, but reassured me that he intended a six months’ engagement. He said that his master would be glad to take Josephine into his home; currently he had no female servant. But then he added, ‘He is retiring at the end of the year, sir. Moving his household to his family property in Norwich. He would like us to go with them.’
‘I see.’ So after Christmas I would probably not see Josephine again. I would miss her. I took a deep breath, then said, ‘You have always struck me, Brown, as a sober young man. I know Josephine is very fond of you.’
‘As I am of her.’
I looked at him seriously. ‘You know her history?’
He returned my look. ‘Yes, when I asked if she would marry me she told me all. I knew her father was a bullying brute, but not that he had stolen her from her family during one of the King’s invasions of France.’
‘He was a hard, brutal man.’
‘She is very grateful to you for ridding her of him, and giving her a home.’
‘Josephine needs gentleness, Master Brown, above all. I think she always will.’
‘That I know, sir. And as you have been a kind master to her this last year, so I shall be a kind husband.’ His face was full of sincerity.
‘Yes, I think you will.’ I stood and extended my hand. ‘I give my consent, Goodman Brown.’ As he shook my hand I felt a mixture of pleasure that Josephine’s future was thus assured, coupled with sadness at the thought that she would be leaving. I remembered how her clumsiness and nervousness had irritated me when first she had come to my household. But I had seen that she was troubled, recognized her essential good nature, and determined to be kind.
Young Brown’s face flushed with pleasure. ‘May I go and tell her, sir? She is waiting in the kitchen.’
‘Yes, give her the good news now.’
LATER I JOINED the two of them in the kitchen, together with the Brockets and Timothy, to drink their health. Timothy looked astonished, and also distressed. How that boy hated change. It worried me. Agnes acted as hostess, dispensing wine which I had asked her to bring up from the cellar for the occasion. Even Martin unbent so far as to kiss Josephine on the cheek, though I think he noticed, as I did, her tiny flinch, and while the rest of us made merry conversation he stood a little apart. Josephine wept, and young Brown drew her to him. She wiped her eyes and smiled. ‘I will try not to be one of those wives who weep at every excitement.’