Читать книгу The Maidens of Walsingham - Анна Морион - Страница 2

– And why is everyone so eagerly awaiting this lord's arrival? – Catherine asked her father as the Glowfords went to bed.

The Glowfords' cottage was old and small, but the sisters and their father lived in separate rooms: with Cassie's birth, the parson had divided the large room into two, leaving the daughters the larger one, while he contented himself with a corner that contained his sleeping mat, a chest of belongings, and a large wooden crucifix on the wall. The rooms were connected by a roughly carved doorway, and the family could communicate from room to room.

– Because their hearts are filled with hope," the pastor replied briefly to the daughter's question, interrupting her prayer for an answer.

– But why is he coming now, in the spring, when we have already gone through a terrible winter? – Catherine asked, not satisfied with her father's answer.

– Because God sends him when he is most needed," the pastor replied with a sigh.

– Will you ask him for the church? – Catherine asked again.

– Can't you be quiet? I'm trying to sleep! – Christine, curled up on her mattress under a rough woollen blanket, dreaming of tomorrow.

– We are talking with father about very important matters! – Kate said to her reproachfully. – Will the new lord repair the church and give us a new organ?

– Of course I'll ask him for the church, but I won't insist. You know that the true church is our souls, and in the parish we gather to honour God with common prayers and hymns for His grace, and no more. My dear, there is no need to deify a stone building," Pastor Glowford said with a slight reproach to his eldest daughter.

There was silence in the house for a few moments, and the pastor was able to continue his prayer.

– Cassie needs a new dress," Kate said thoughtfully, and stroked the head of her sister, who slept beside her on her mattress. – Her old one is all worn out.

– Well, of course! Cassie's getting her third dress this year! – grumbled Christine, who had only received one dress for the year.

– You should read the Bible more and pray to God for guidance," Catherine told her earnestly, believing it would make her more sensible.

– Cassie does nothing around the house but run round the field and catch bugs. Why should she get a new dress? – Christine said with undisguised anger.

Catherine sighed deeply, irritated by her sister's words: in her opinion, Christine's misfortune was that she was not diligent in serving the Lord, so her soul was filled with envy and resentment that the best things did not go to her.

– Christine, please pray," said the pastor, who had to interrupt her prayer again. – And you, Catherine, sew up Cassie's dress. We can't get a new one right now.

Pastor Glowford knew that there was little friendship between his daughters: Kate and Cassie were always together, but Christine tried to avoid socialising with them and often left the house for long periods of time. Talks and sermons did not help, and the pastor tried to ignore his daughters' relations, immersing himself in the affairs and sorrows of his parishioners: he knew that prudent Catherine would cope with the house and Christine's character, and that Christine herself would soften after marriage, and Cassie would always be close to Catherine, who would not let anyone hurt her.

When the pastor thought of his youngest daughter, his heart was filled with love, pity and remorse: there was a time when sin had broken his faith and made him a bitter drunkard, and neither wife nor children could save him. During this black streak Mrs. Glowford became pregnant for the third time, and Cassandra was born, while the mother died of a haemorrhage after struggling to unburden herself. The pastor was left alone with three daughters, one of whom was an infant. He did not know what to do, his hands were down, but his eldest nine-year-old daughter Catherine took care of the child, replacing her mother. Christine cried for a long time and did not want to even look at Cassie, because she considered her guilty for the death of her mother, to whom Christine was very attached. Cassie's birth brought the pastor out of darkness into light: he took up his work again and worked hard and almost without rest to feed his daughters. Cassie became a sign from God that helped him out of his drunkenness, but when the little girl was five years old, the pastor noticed with despair her developmental delays: she could not walk, but could only crawl, and she spoke in separate sounds and letter combinations. From then on, the pastor fell into a religious ecstasy: he considered Cassie's illness as God's punishment for his sin, so he began to love her more than his older daughters. Cassie was his suffering and pain, a reminder of his black sin. And now Cassandra was seventeen years old, but she had the mind of a six-year-old child, and if the village lads were suitors for Catherine and Christine, none were suitors for Cassie, nor would the parson himself put his treasure in the wrong hands.

***

Christine lay embracing her knees and wept silently: her soul could not bear the poverty that surrounded her, and all the men who asked her to marry her were poor like herself. She cried that here, in this rotten place, her beauty would fade in vain, and her life would remain the life of a poor pastor's daughter. In her heart she thought, sharp as a needle, why should Cassie want such beauty, with her sick mind? She hated her poor sister for it.

Cassie, on the other hand, had no idea that they were poor, no idea how hard food and clothes were to get, no idea that she was sick. She lived the joyful life of a child and was happy just to exist. Cassie slept the sound sleep of a child, in the arms of Catherine, whom she loved as much as children love their mother.

***

In the morning the church was full of people: everyone came, even the sick and heavy-lifting old people (their sons and sons-in-law brought them in their arms). Everyone was curious to see the new Landlord of Walsingham: they even made a new pew for him and put it in the front row on the left (for this purpose they had to move the other pews closer to the exit). But the Sunday mass had already begun, and the pew was still empty: the lord was not coming, and the peasants began to lose hope of his appearance. Some of them begged the pastor to postpone the service until the Lord arrived, but the pastor refused, saying that no one had the right to keep God waiting. The service continued. A chorus of voices rose to the roof, skewed by time and the heavy snows that covered it every winter.

Suddenly one of the belated parishioners came hurriedly into the church: he whispered something in the ear of a near neighbour, the latter became agitated and whispered in the ear of another, and soon a whisper ran through the church: "He's coming, he's coming!" The Glowfords were excited too, but not Cassie for she was asleep with her head resting on the back of the pew.

The peasants' eyes centred on the church door, and soon indeed the one they had been waiting for so eagerly appeared, but he was not alone: there were two gentlemen, and the peasants were wondering which of them was the landlord of Walsingham.

The gentlemen entered the church at a leisurely walk, and stopping at the very back of the pews, almost touching the wall, took the vacant seats, and began to look cautiously, leisurely at the modest decoration of the church. Two country lads immediately brought the gentlemen a pew made for them: the lords smiled, thanked them, and moved to it, inviting the obliging little ones to sit down beside them. The gentlemen seemed unwilling to draw attention to themselves and behaved quietly and modestly.

Both gentlemen were dressed in fine, expensive travelling suits, which made them an incredible curiosity in the eyes of the unpretentious, old rags clad Walsinghamians. The lords were quite young (Pastor Glowford, a judge of such things, gave them no more than thirty-five years of age), handsome and dapperly dressed. The peasants gazed at them with rapt attention and whispered, but the pastor called them loudly to return to the service and to sing a hymn of praise to the Lord.

The congregation, as one, rose from their pews. The lords who had arrived did likewise. The poor people had realised that it was unseemly to gaze at the noble lords and now carefully averted their curious glances, but the girls continued to sneak glances at the gentlemen. The three old women looked at the lords shamelessly and frowned, thinking that this must be the way the rich birds dressed, which, of course, they had never seen before.

One of the lords looked round the church and the congregation, scrutinising their faces.

– Who is that grey-haired old man with the stick? – he whispered to one of the young men standing nearby.

– That's Clif, our watchman," the young man replied cautiously, pleased and honoured to be spoken to by such a noble man.

– Watchman? And what does he guard? – The lord asked with a chuckle.

– The old mill," replied the lad.

– And who is that lady surrounded by children?

– That's our laundress Lilith.

– All those children are hers?

– Yes, she has eight children.

Of course, the country lad had no idea that a polite and respectful "sir" was required.

The gentleman smiled and continued looking at the villagers.

– How many children are there in the village? – He asked again.

– God knows. A lot! – The boy replied, shrugging his shoulders. – Ask the pastor, he's an educated man, not like us.

The curious gentleman's companion grinned: it seemed to him that he was in the Middle Ages, for the peasants were so horribly dressed, and the dilapidated church so poor.

– It seems to me, my friend, that with the manor you have become a great burden," he whispered to his noble friend.

– Yes, that's true," he said with a mocking smile.

– But you can change all that. These people seem to be no different from medieval manners.

– That's likely. If not manners, then religion.

Suddenly the first gentleman saw Catherine and Christine Glowfords: they stood almost at the altar, occupying the first pew. Christine's beauty immediately caught the lord's eye, and he turned again to his local informant.

– Who are those girls? – The lord asked quietly, nodding in the direction of the unfamiliar beauties.

– Which ones? – The lad didn't understand. – We have a lot of them in our village.

– The ones standing next to the grey-haired old woman whose head is shaking.

– The ones? They're the Glowfords, our parson's daughters. He's such a good man, our pastor!

– What are these girls' names?

– 'Kate and Chris,' replied the lad, in a rustic manner.

– The one in the white bonnet with the lace, who is she?

– Chris. Pretty, I tell you, but she's got a nose for everyone.

The lord scrutinised the figure of the girl who interested him and the soft, surprisingly beautiful profile of her face. Christine noticed someone's gaze on her and turned to look at the lord, frowning her lovely dark eyebrows at him. Her brown eyes, framed by long lashes, looked straight into the eyes of the noble gentleman, but when she saw that he was looking at her intently, the girl blushed slightly, became embarrassed, turned away hastily, and ducked her gaze into the open book she held in her hands.

"What a beautiful girl. It is amazing that in this wilderness you can find a treasure in the form of such a fresh rose" – thought the lord, still not taking his eyes off the beautiful girl: even in her old, rough dress, Christine was very beautiful. Kate, too, seemed pretty to the lord, but her beauty was pale and commonplace against Christine's.

When the congregation had finished singing the hymn, Pastor Glowford invited the new landlord down the aisle so that his subjects could see him.

The new landlord didn't make the pastor ask twice – it turned out to be a gentleman who had been gathering information about the peasants. Someone who liked Christine. He glimpsed the girl's face once more, but this time she didn't take her beautiful eyes off him.

Like all the girls in the church, Christine thought that the new landlord was very good-looking: tall, stately, well-built, clean-shaven, handsome, young, well-groomed, and his hair was thick, dark and beautifully styled. To the poor village girls, who had never seen such smart, well-groomed men before, he seemed to be a real beauty, a creature from another world beyond their reach, and an ambitious dream slipped into their hearts. All of them except Catherine and Cassie: Kate was too religious to think of such a thing, and Cassie did not understand the meaning of beauty, and besides, she was sleeping sweetly, nestled comfortably on a bench. But while in the hearts of other girls this vicious dream slipped and disappeared, in Christine's heart it took root and grew a flower of ambition: Christine saw that the lord was interested in her, but she feared that others would notice his interest in her and judge her, so she pretended not to notice his admiring gaze on her face.

The Landlord lifted his chin as he always did when he made a speech.

– Good morning, residents of Walsingham. Allow me to introduce myself: I am the Count of Draymore, your new Landlord. The manor of Rivershold, whose lands include your village, was recently inherited by me after the death of my much-loved uncle, who passed away in mid-March of this year. Today I have seen that your village is in a deplorable state. And I will help rebuild it. You can address all your needs to my secretary Mr. Grim, who will come to your village tomorrow. I can also see that you are conscientious, hard-working and religious people, so I will help you with sincere pleasure. But, alas, I have urgent business to attend to, and I must leave your kind society," he said loudly and resolutely.

The peasants listened to him with open mouths.

– But, your Lordship, would you do us the great honour of staying at least until the end of the mass? – The parson, who wished to speak to him about the rebuilding of the church, asked him politely.

The Count hesitated, but, casting another quick glance at Christine, decided to stay. He nodded silently to the pastor and strode majestically to his pew.

The pastor continued the mass, but he found it difficult to interest the excited peasants, who were already whispering about what they could ask of the lord.

– Are you in your right mind? – his friend whispered unhappily to the landlord.

The prospect of another hour in this medieval atmosphere did not please him at all.

– Wait a moment, Dominic," replied the Count of Draymore.

Dominic, Viscount Wilworth followed his friend's gaze carefully and found out that he was looking at Christine Glowford.

– Have you found a new amusement? – he grinned. – But she is the pastor's daughter, I hope you remember that.

– I have no plans for her. It's just that I've never seen such beauties. To associate with a peasant girl would disgrace my name," Colin Draymore replied.

– I'm glad you realise that" his friend said gravely.

As the service came to an end, the congregation began to leave the church slowly. The noble gentlemen were the last to leave and headed for the beautiful carriage that was waiting for them at the entrance to the church.

But suddenly, as if a bright sun bunny appeared in the grey crowd of poor people, making both lords freeze in admiration.

– Can you tell me, my good man, who is this marvellous flower? – Lord Draymore asked a peasant passing by.

– Cassie Glowford," he replied, bowing respectfully to the Count.

– Another daughter of the parson? – The viscount was surprised to see the pretty girl with a smile.

– Yes, the youngest. But she's not very well," the peasant said quietly, touching his fingers to his forehead.

– Not well? You mean mentally ill? – questioned the Count, who had already set his eyes on the fragile creature.

– No, but she's like a child, she doesn't understand much. She has the brains of a child. That's it," explained the poor man, and sighed sadly. – Such a pity for her, poor thing.

– Well, good man, go," said the Count of Draymore, disappointed in Cassie.

– Poor girl," said Viscount Wilworth, watching her with sincere pity in his heart. – "Think how hard it must be for her father.

– Of course, it's. It is impossible to marry her off, for no one would be tempted to take spoilt goods," said the earl, with a grim sneer, as he saw Pastor Glowford approaching them with displeasure.

Viscount Wilworth looked at Cassie and could not believe that this angel was not quite well. Cassie was still sleepy: she was smiling absent-mindedly after her nap and looked touching and sad. Then Catherine came to the girl, took her under her arm, and led her away.

Young Cassie so struck the viscount that he was deeply interested in her fate, her life and how she saw the world through the prism of her undeveloped mind. The gentleman, imbued with good feelings for the poor girl, decided to ask the parson about her illness and whether he had given his young daughter the necessary treatment.

– Reverend Glowford! You have lovely daughters, especially your youngest," the Count said affably to the parson, shaking hands with him.

– Yes, sir, Cassie is my treasure and a reminder of past sins," the parson replied briefly, tugging at a sore heart string.

– 'One of your parishioners said she is a developmental child,' Dominic Wilworth told him.

– 'Yes, she's seventeen, but mentally she's no more than six.

– Forgive me for saying this, for I must be hurting you, but have you treated her? – asked the Viscount.

– No. Cassie was given to me by God, and therefore she is perfect," Pastor Glowford answered him gravely. – But, please, let's not talk about that. Lord Draymore, could I have your attention for a moment?

– I beg your pardon, reverend, but I have no time to spare at the moment," said the Count hastily, anxious to be away from the parson and this dreadful village for a day. – I have urgent business to attend to. You see, the mass has already made me late.

– Oh, sir, I apologise for delaying you," said the parson, embarrassed.

– Not at all, reverend. If you wish to speak to me, you must come to my manor, I am ready to give you an audience," Colin announced as he got into the carriage. – Tomorrow I shall be deprived of all my troubles and urgent correspondence, so come at any time. You may take your pretty daughters with you.

– Thank you, Lord Draymore, for such a high honour! – the parson rejoiced.

– I wish you a most pleasant day, reverend.

The parson left the nobles and turned to his parishioners: after the service he always asked them if they had understood his sermon.

– What are you plotting? Why should he bring his daughters? – Viscount Wilworth frowned, disapproving of his friend's suggestion.

– 'I was merely following the bounds of politeness. Don't worry: the old man is not as simple as he seems," the Count grinned, but his thoughts were different from his words.