Philippa Carr - Saraband for Two Sisters

‘I saw it all,’ he said. ‘The boy snatching your purse and your attempt to catch him.’

‘I am so grateful.’

‘You are new to London, I am sure. Let me escort you from this warren. It is not good for you to be here.’

He returned his sword to its scabbard and, taking my arm, led me through the alley the way I had come.

‘It was unwise,’ he said, ‘to follow the boy.’

‘But he had my purse.’

‘It was equally unwise to take out your purse as you did.’

‘The woman had six starving children.’

‘I doubt that. She’s a professional beggar. Tomorrow she will have a dying husband or a dying mother. They vary their stories, you know.’

‘I see that now, but I believed her.’

‘Next time you will be more sceptical. Tell me your name.’

I told him and that I was staying at Pondersby Hall.

‘I have made the acquaintance of Sir Gervaise,’ he told me. ‘I am Richard Tolworthy, a soldier of the King’s army.’

‘I can only say again thank you, sir. I have never been so terrified in my life.’

‘It is a lesson learned. Look on it that way.’

‘But if you had not seen … if you had not been there to save me …’

‘I was and it was my pleasure. Where do you wish to go?’

‘I left Lady Pondersby buying laces in Paul’s Walk. We came in from Pondersby Hall in the coach.’

‘Then I will take you back to Paul’s Walk and we will find Lady Pondersby.’

We were very quickly there. Carlotta had been so engrossed in the lace buying which she had just completed and she was looking round wondering what had become of me when she saw me with my rescuer.

She cried out: ‘Whatever has happened?’

‘Something terrible,’ I answered. ‘I’ve lost my purse. A boy snatched it. I ran after him and there were two men … This gentleman saved me.’

Carlotta was gravely surveying Richard Tolworthy, and I thought with a little stab of jealousy: I suppose he is thinking how beautiful she is.

He bowed and said: ‘Richard Tolworthy at your service, m’am.’

‘Why, sir,’ she laughed, ‘it seems you have indeed been at our service. Mistress Landor is newly arrived from the country.’

‘I gathered so,’ he said.

I felt deflated and sad suddenly, as Carlotta went on, ‘And as she does not seem inclined to present me, I will tell you that I am Lady Pondersby, wife of Sir Gervaise.’

‘Of whose acquaintance I have the pleasure,’ said Richard Tolworthy. ‘May I escort you to your coach?’

‘Thank you. I would be glad if you did. I see Mistress Landor has been considerably shocked by the adventure.’

‘I fear so,’ he said, glancing briefly at me. ‘But at least she will know how to avoid such an experience if—may God forbid—it should occur again.’

‘It would have been terrible if you had not been there. I should never have forgiven myself!’ said Carlotta. ‘Oh, here is the coach. Could I take you to your destination?’

‘Thank you. I have business in the Walk.’

He handed us both into the coach and stood back, bowing.

As we moved away, Carlotta said: ‘Well, you have had a little adventure, have you not?’

‘I was terrified … until he came.’

‘I should think so. Two men, you say … with evil intent. Robbery with rape, doubtless. You have learned something of the streets of London this morning. Let it stand you in good stead.’

It was characteristic of Carlotta that she should see the incident as an example of my folly rather than her neglect and should seek to make me feel the more foolishly inexperienced because of it.

But she did not dwell on that. She was clearly interested in my rescuer.

‘I have heard his name,’ she said. ‘I believe him to be one of the King’s generals.

‘He said he was a soldier.’

‘Yes, a high-ranking one. It was obvious in his bearing. It was civil of him and gallant of him, was it not?’

‘It was indeed.’

She leaned back against the upholstery of the coach.

‘What is it I have heard of him? Something I fancy. I believe there is some mystery about him. I must ask Gervaise.’

She half closed her eyes, smiling. I realized that she was indeed intrigued by Richard Tolworthy.

As for myself I could not shut out of my mind the terrible moment when those two men had loomed up beside me and somehow conveyed their purpose. I could not imagine what would have happened to me if Richard Tolworthy had not appeared. It was quite beyond my ability to do so. But I knew that I would rather they had killed me.

And then he had come. I remembered certain things about him. It was a stern face as became a high-ranking soldier. It was a strong face—cold, though. I suppose he had despised me for walking so foolishly into such a trap. I had lost my purse but fortunately I had had very little money in it, and I would make sure that such a thing never happened to me again, so perhaps the experience was well worth the price I had paid for it.

He was tall and his skin slightly bronzed, so I supposed he had fought the King’s battles in other countries. I wondered whether I would ever see him again and I felt a flutter of excitement because it did not seem unlikely. He would move in Court circles—those of which Sir Gervaise was a member. I wondered whether he would notice me if we met again. When Carlotta had appeared I had the impression that she had shown him that I was to be despised for my folly, although before he had been kind, understanding of my inexperience.

When we arrived at Pondersby Hall, all thought of the man and the adventure receded, for there was a letter from my mother. I seized it and ran to my room with it because I could not bear to read it under the scrutiny of Carlotta’s eyes.

My fingers were trembling as I opened it. My fears of what I would read made it impossible for a second or so to see the words which danced before my eyes.

‘My dearest Angelet,

I hasten to tell you the good news. Bersaba is going to recover. She is very very weak but …’

The letter slipped from my hands. I just buried my face in them and I started to weep as I had not since the terrible anxiety had begun—tears of relief, tears of joy. Life would go on again.

Senara came and sat with me. She too wept a little and we sat side by side holding hands. I loved her in that moment because of her true affection for my mother.

She kept saying, ‘Thank God. Thank God. It would have killed Tamsyn. This is due to her nursing, you can depend upon it. Her mother’s care has defied the laws of nature. Tamsyn is one of the truly good women in this world.’

She put her arms round me and held me fast.

‘Did I not tell you so?’ she demanded.

And I answered: ‘You did!’ And I thought: You are truly a witch.

Mab was happy.

‘I couldn’t believe Mistress Bersaba could die,’ she said. ‘She’s too sharp for it.’

I laughed at that observation. It was with the laughter that is born of relief and happiness because that great black cloud had been dispersed and the skies were blue again.

Carlotta said: ‘Now you can stop fretting and begin to take a real interest in everything. It’s been exasperating to have you so lukewarm when I take so much trouble to launch you.’

I laughed at her too—the same sort of laughter.

At dinner Carlotta told Sir Gervaise of my adventure.

He was most concerned.

‘My dear Angelet,’ he said, ‘that was a most unwise thing to do!’

‘I know it now. But, you see, it was my purse.’

‘You could have lost so much more.’

‘It was great good fortune that Richard Tolworthy was at hand. Gervaise, you’ve met him. What do you know of him?’

‘He’s a good soldier. He’s had great success in several campaigns.’

‘I mean … personally,’ said Carlotta with a trace of impatience.

Sir Gervaise looked thoughtful. ‘There was something about him. It slips my memory.’

‘Oh, do try to think.’

‘I don’t know. A somewhat unsociable fellow if I remember rightly. He doesn’t mix in society a great deal. Devoted to his profession, of course, which occupies him. Lost his wife …’

‘So he was married.’

‘I believe so.’

‘How could he have lost his wife if he wasn’t,’ said Carlotta with some show of exasperation.

‘I’m not sure,’ said Sir Gervaise. ‘Perhaps it was something else. However, there was some story.’

I lay awake a long time that night. I was thinking of the rejoicing at home. Bersaba no longer in danger, but very weak still and she would be for a long time. We could bear that. My mother would nurse her back to health and when I went home she would be there.

I slept at last and dreamed that I was at home. Bersaba and I were in the hall and as we sat there a man came in. He bowed and I said: ‘This is Bersaba whose life has been saved and, Bersaba, this is Richard Tolworthy who saved mine.’

And he sat down between us and we were very happy together. I awoke reluctantly from that dream.

I FORGOT THAT UNPLEASANT adventure and thought about the exciting new experiences which were crowding in on me. I could now say to myself, I will tell Bersaba that, without the terrible foreboding coming over me that I might never be able to. I could, in other words, be happy and carefree, so I let myself think about the Mallard ball. I was to have a very special ball gown which Sir Gervaise wished to give me—a thanksgiving offering for two happy events, he told me: my escape from the London villains and the recovery of my sister, and he wanted me to be very happy wearing it.

‘Gervaise doesn’t want you to look like a little country mouse at the Mallard ball,’ said Carlotta, attempting to douse my pleasure as usual; I replied spiritedly that I thought the reason was that Gervaise wanted to be kind.

She shrugged her shoulders. The important thing was the dress. I was to have a rose pink silk bodice and flowing skirt over a most elaborate cream satin petticoat embroidered in gold thread, and it would be cut very low to enhance my long neck which Carlotta rather grudgingly admitted had a certain grace, but the immaturity of my bosom would have to be disguised.

Ana, who was making the dresses, whispered to me that that which Carlotta disparaged was in fact my youthfulness which to many would be very attractive, so I must not be depressed by my immaturity.

‘There are many ageing ladies who would give a great deal to possess it,’ she told me.

I discovered during the making of that dress that Ana was interested in me. She would kneel beside me and encourage me to talk. She liked to hear about Bersaba.

‘You look so alike,’ she said, ‘yet there is a difference.’

‘Most people can’t tell it,’ I replied.

‘Do you know,’ said Ana, ‘I think I could.’

I told her how Bersaba had gone to the midwife because she was so concerned about one of the servants whose baby was overdue.

‘I remember,’ said Ana, ‘she warned us that there was murmuring in the village against my mistress … and yet …’ She hesitated and I looked at her expectantly and Ana said: ‘I did not think she was so fond of my mistress.’

‘I do not think she was either,’ I answered, thinking of Bastian.

‘Yet she warned her.’

‘Of course she would warn her. The mob can be terrible when they are on the march. I once saw them taking a witch. It was horrible. There is something frightening about a mob. Ordinary people become like savages when they get together, and what is supposed to be a righteous cause rouses them to madness and cruelty.’

‘Your sister is a strange lady,’ said Ana.

‘Oh, I know her well. I understand her. Sometimes I think we are one person because there are times when it seems that nature divided the human qualities between us and gave all to one of us and none to the other. She is so much cleverer than I. It didn’t occur to me to go for the midwife, although I knew that the baby was overdue. I’m thoughtless, I suppose, thinking less of other people.’

‘I think you inherited your share of good points, my lady,’ said Ana. ‘Indeed, I should not think your sister has them all. It would be a mistake to think so if some occasion were to arise …’

I looked at her sharply and she went on: ‘But I talk too much. Look at the set of this bodice …’

I was mystified as much by her manner as by her words. It was almost as though she were trying to warn me. Warn me against Bersaba! What nonsense!