The Ribbon Weaver

Chapter Thirty-Four



Seth snapped his braces into place and slapped his wife’s bottom soundly as she stepped past him with a large pan of porridge in her hands.

‘Do that again an’ yer might find yerself wearin’ this,’ Winifred warned him as she plonked it on to the table, but for all her harsh words her voice was soft. Seth seemed to have been happier these last few months than she had known him to be for years. But then as she thought of the terrible secret that he had been forced to keep for Master Adam she wasn’t surprised. She just wished Master Adam would snap out of his melancholy now. The way she saw it, poor Miss Jessica was gone an’ there could be no bringin’ her back. The sooner Master Adam realised it and put the past behind him, the sooner he could get on with his life. After all, how could he have known, all those years ago, that refusing to speak to the master on his sister’s behalf would have such tragic consequences? It was common knowledge that Adam had adored his sister and no one believed that he would willingly have done her any harm. He had just had his head turned by that minx, Eugenie – who, word had it, was now in the final stages of her illness in an asylum in Leicestershire.

‘The master an’ Miss Amy are due back from London today,’ Seth informed her as she ladled some porridge into his bowl.

‘Will you be takin’ the carriage to pick ’em up from the station?’ Winifred enquired, pulling her thoughts sharply back to the present.

He nodded as he looked across at her, considering himself to be a very fortunate man indeed. Winifred was a good woman and they had barely had a cross word in all their long married life. An’ she were still a bit of a looker, an’ all. A bit on the plump side now, admittedly, but he weren’t complainin’.

When they had finished their breakfast, Seth stood up and yawned lazily as he stretched. ‘I could just fall back into bed,’ he told her meaningfully, but she wagged a finger at him.

‘Yer wouldn’t be able to, ’cos I’m just about to strip the sheets off it. So get yerself off an’ get some work done. I’ve got a pile o’ dirty laundry to tackle an’ I don’t want to see yer ugly face again till dinnertime.’

‘Yer a tartar, so you are, woman,’ he teased, and snatching his coat from the hook on the back of the door he slid his arms into it and with a final wink at Winifred left the room.

At the top of the stairs he paused, enjoying the smell of the fresh hay in the stables below. Seth kept the horses’ stalls as clean as a whistle and took a pride in his job, which he loved almost as much as the horses he tended to.

Halfway down the stairs, as he was buttoning his coat, he heard Pepperpot snorting softly. He frowned. The thoroughbred was usually a placid beast but this morning he sounded agitated. Hurrying now, Seth reached the bottom of the rickety staircase and moved in the direction of Pepperpot’s stall.

‘What’s up then, eh, me old lad?’ he asked, as he reached over to stroke the horse’s mane.

The stallion pawed at the ground and tossed his enormous head as Seth tried to soothe him. ‘Let’s get yer some oats fer yer breakfast, eh? Happen that’ll take yer mind off whatever it is that’s botherin’ yer.’

Seth lifted a large wooden pail and began to walk towards the other end of the stable-block where he kept the horses’ food, and it was then that he saw them and his eyes started from his head as he dropped the pail. It rattled noisily across the floor as he stood there, rooted to the ground with shock. A pair of men’s feet were dangling in midair. Forcing himself forward, he began to run – and as he drew closer, tears began to roll unchecked down his wrinkled face. It was Master Adam. He was hanging by a thick rope that was wrapped about one of the rafters. Seth could only suppose that he had climbed into the hayloft and crawled along the beam before securing the rope around his neck and jumping.

‘Aw, no! Me poor lad.’ Seth felt as if someone was ripping the very heart out of him as he stared at the young man who had meant so much to him. It was more than obvious that there was nothing to be done to help him. Adam’s face was blue and his tongue was lolling out of his mouth as he stared ahead from sightless eyes.

Turning about, Seth ran up the stairs and bade his wife to remain within; he said he would explain as soon as he could. She knew that something was badly wrong, but wisely held her peace and carried on with her work. Seth then headed for the main house. He would have to break the news to the mistress, though God knew, he had no idea how he was going to do it.

It was Seth who inched himself along the broad oak beam and cut the poor chap down a short while later. The mistress was so distressed that Beatrice had been ordered to run into the village to fetch the doctor to her. And God only knew what the master would say when he got home. Some homecoming this was going to be.

When the doctor arrived and saw Adam’s broken body lying there he looked at Seth gravely.

‘A fall, was it?’ he asked innocently, but with a strange emphasis.

Seth looked bemused for a moment but then latching on to what the doctor was thinking, he nodded quickly.

‘Aye, it was that, sir. He must have fallen from the hayloft.’

And so word spread that Adam had died of a tragic accident, and the doctor, who had a high regard for the Forresters, was happy to go along with this, for he knew that if word got out that Adam had taken his own life, he would not be allowed to rest in consecrated ground. The way he saw it, these good people had already had their fair share of heartache.

Adam was laid to rest five days later beside his sister in the little churchyard in Caldecote and for a while, Samuel Forrester feared that his wife would shortly follow him. Her eyes were empty and she seemed to be locked away in a world of her own. The only time she spoke was when Amy was present. The girl had endless patience with her and gave of her time freely, encouraging the woman to eat tasty titbits and reading to her.

Sometimes she would lead her out into the gardens and walk her about, holding her by the hand as if she was an infant, insistent that her grandmother should get some fresh air. A dark shadow was hanging over The Folly once more, and every one of them, from the indoor staff to the gardeners, missed Master Adam daily. No one more so than Seth, who mourned the young master almost as much as his parents did.

There had been no note from Adam, so they could only assume that he had taken his own life because he could no longer live with the guilt of the way he had betrayed his sister. All they could do now was pray that he was reunited with her and that he and Jessica were both finally together again and at peace.

This sad state of affairs continued for some weeks until one afternoon when Amy was in the drawing room with her grandparents. Josephine was staring off into space as usual, and Amy and her grandfather were studying some designs that she had brought for him to look at.

‘Grandfather, I’ve been thinking …’ Amy was finding it hard to concentrate on what they were doing and began cautiously, ‘I wonder if we should not postpone the wedding? What I mean is, none of us are really in the mood for a celebration and I’m sure François would understand. It doesn’t seem right to have a happy occasion when we are all still in mourning and—’

‘What was that you said?’

Amy and Samuel looked towards Josephine in surprise. They had not been aware that she was listening to them.

‘I … I was just saying that perhaps it would be wise to postpone the wedding for a time,’ Amy faltered.

‘You will do no such thing!’ Josephine looked more her old self as she stared towards Amy indignantly. ‘This house has seen enough sadness, and I know that if your mother and Adam could speak, they would both say they wished this wedding to go ahead. So let us hear no more talk of postponing it. In fact, I think it’s high time we began to prepare for it. There is a lot to be done.’

‘Very well, but only if you are quite sure.’ Amy wrung her hands as she glanced towards her grandfather for support but he merely shrugged, delighted that his wife was speaking to them again.

‘I think your grandmother is right, Amy.’ He winked at her with relief evident in his eyes. ‘You are all we have left now, so let’s work together towards making this a wedding that the town will never forget. Because you know, I have a strange feeling that there will be two guests that attend the church who we will not be able to see, and like your grandmother and me, I am sure that they will be very proud of you.’

Amy lowered her head as tears stung at the back of her eyes. She too missed Adam, although they had never become close. And now she finally understood why. Each time he looked at her he must have been reminded of her mother and the wrong he had once done her. She hoped it was not what Eugenie had done to her that had finally tipped him over the edge, and prayed that he would now find the peace in death that had so long been denied him in life.