“And you shall practice on your own, and when next you come, you will be adept and surprise all of them!” She clapped her hands in delight at the thought.
At that moment, my heart felt light. I did not know when I could come back to Lanham-Hall, but I vowed it would happen.
Chapter 13
I have always been an early riser, and the next morning I was up before dawn and dressed quickly. At Thornfield-Hall, I would have wandered to the kitchen to see what was afoot, but I was a stranger at Lanham-Hall, and no doubt not welcome in the nether regions, so I stepped outside into the chill air and made for the stable.
In my childhood days I especially loved the stables: the damp, musky smell of the horses, the sharp, earthy odor of straw and the sweet perfume of hay, the rich scent of oiled leather. And the wood of the stalls, rubbed as smooth and satiny as the flanks of the animals they inclosed; and the warm touch of an animal’s withers, the moist velvet of its nose. The one who caught my eye that morning was a large chestnut filly that nuzzled me as I put out my hand, turning away in disappointment when she found no treat. I took her halter, though, and turned her back, and spoke sweet, soft words to her, and she stretched her neck and nibbled at my ear and I could not help laughing from the tickle of it.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” I started at the sound.
“Knew I would find you here,” Rowland went on. “You used to like them. Horses.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Ride much?”
“Not really. Is she yours?”
“Oh yes.” He drew the halter from my hands. “You will be leaving Maysbeck soon?” he asked, without glancing back at me.
“Perhaps not so soon. Mr. Wilson had a stroke, and now I am more or less in charge.” It was vanity on my part to say that; he was no doubt in correspondence with our father and would already have known.
His back to me, he shrugged as if it were nothing to him who was in charge of a mill. I watched as he saddled the filly, not even waiting for a groom to do so. “You’ll have to get yourself a horse when you are in Jamaica,” he said. “One can’t live a proper life there without a horse.”
“Am I really going to Jamaica?” I asked. Though it had been mentioned to me, the possibility still seemed distant, unimaginable.
“Of course. It’s all settled.”
All settled? He knew that and I did not? And, further, what exactly was settled? I should have asked him more, but I was wary of showing too much ignorance of my own fate. Instead, I only asked, “When? When will I go?”
He turned to me, an odd smile on his face. “When you are ready.”
When you are ready. My father—our father—had said that. There was a plan for me that even Rowland knew. Why did I not? “Did you like Jamaica?” I asked, though I remembered that he had said something in Maysbeck that had led me to think that he hadn’t.
“It didn’t suit me. The people there are stupid, and they have stupid rules. It will be different for you, though.”
“Why different for me?”
“It just will be. It’s all set for you.”
Without saying more, he led the filly out into the stable yard and she clopped across the cobblestones as if she were as anxious as he was to be off across the fields on such a bright and promising morning. As I watched him ride away, I wondered: did Carrot really like him so very much? Brothers, Carrot had said: was there something to Rowland that I did not understand? Or was it simply that he took the effort to court and charm a friend like Carrot who could benefit him, while I, the younger brother, had nothing to offer?
I wandered back to the house and found the dining room still empty of guests, and a young maid just setting out the dishes. I nodded to her and she dipped a little curtsy and went about her business. We had a housekeeper and a cook and a scullery maid at the Wilsons’. And there had been Athena and North at Mr. Lincoln’s, and even Mrs. Clem had a housekeeper and someone to help her in the kitchen. But it had only been back all those years ago at Thornfield-Hall that there had been genuine servants around: a butler and a housekeeper and Cook and chambermaids. In those days I was only a child, with not much more status than a servant myself. So it was nearly a new thing to me to have people around to wait on me, to bow and curtsy at my nods, to provision me almost before I knew I needed provisioning. And I must admit that I found it quite comfortable.
I took a plate and filled it with eggs and ham and fried potatoes and bread, and black pudding. It was to me a clear reminder of Thornfield-Hall and the breakfasts that Cook used to make, and I was just settling into it when Carrot entered the room and greeted me. “Up so early, Jam? Matthews tells me you have already been to the stables to see Rowland off.”
“Yes, I was there. That’s a handsome filly he has.”
“Indeed. He won the bid on her. I was after her as well. As was Willy, in fact. You should have been to that one. Jam, I was really sorry you didn’t come to the Derby. We could have…we could have had a marvelous time.”
“I’m sorry as well,” I said. I wanted to say more, but there was no way Carrot could understand the childish jealousy I was feeling toward Rowland.
“And I suppose you’ve never been to Newmarket, either. Well, we shall fix that. Next time. You must join us, if I have to come to Maysbeck myself and drag you there.”
I laughed, the warmth of Carrot’s obvious affection spreading through me, Rowland for the moment forgotten.
“So you and the lovely Miss Kent have a date this morning for a music lesson!” he said as he filled his plate.
“We do,” I managed to say, despite that I was having second thoughts, fearful still of making a fool of myself in front of Rowland. Nevertheless, I determined I would not be intimidated. “She so kindly offered that it seemed uncouth not to accept,” I added.
Carrot laughed again. “Uncouth. God knows, no one should be uncouth!” Then he leaned forward, closer. “Must you really leave tomorrow? You have only just gotten here.”
“I warned it could only be a day or so.”
“But, Jam, tomorrow? Do you know that Rowland is leaving tomorrow as well? Surely you won’t leave me on my own with these two girls? Whatever shall I do with them?”
“I’m sorry, but I must go back,” I said. “I have responsibilities there.”