Читать книгу The Maidens of Walsingham - Анна Морион - Страница 4

The two lords were seated in the large, sumptuous drawing-room, furnished with expensive English-style furniture, drinking brandy and discussing yesterday's trip to Walsingham.

– How could such squalid places exist in the early nineteenth century? I thought they had all disappeared a couple of centuries ago! – Lord Draymore said in surprise and grinned sarcastically. – Oh, Uncle Buck, what a burden you've put on my neck in exchange for this estate!

– But why didn't your uncle mention the village when he gave you his will? – Viscount Wilworth asked him.

– I have no idea. Perhaps he didn't even realise there was a village on his land. I myself learnt of it from my secretary.

– But, my friend, with your wealth, you can do these peasants a great deal of good. You have seen how poor they are, how crooked their houses are, how poorly they are dressed… Poor, wretched people.

– Yes, Dominic, I have. But in this dirt my eyes saw not only poverty, but also a beautiful flower, – said Colin Draymore, remembering the beautiful modest daughter of the pastor, Christine.

– Be serious. You should not think of that girl,' frowned the viscount. – Let this flower remain undefiled.

– Why this moralising? I have no wish to deal with that pretty girl. She is a peasant! I'm just paying honour to her beauty," the Count said with a mocking sneer.

– Then it must be said that the youngest Glowford is much lovelier than your beauty," said Dominic Wilworth, and his heart ached with pity for Cassie.

– Yes, indeed, but she is ill, and that spoils her.

– But it's only a question of looks.

– Yes, that little girl with the marvellous curls is a wonder. I feel sorry for her," Colin muttered, not wanting to spread his negative opinion of her.

The moment he'd seen Cassie, the same dark thoughts had flashed through his mind as when he'd seen her sister Christine. But Cassie's dementia repelled him. Viscount Wilworth, on the contrary, became imbued with genuine sympathy and pity for Cassie. He was very surprised that the parson had not treated her as a child and how calmly he treated his daughter's illness as a must.

– I will help these peasants. It's time to show them the benefits of civilisation and the Enlightenment. I will rebuild their houses, the church, the mill, other buildings, roads, fences… Not immediately, of course: first I have to sort out all the documents left behind by my uncle. I have to look round the garden and get rid of the ugly sculptures. Where did my uncle get his love of antiquity? Renovate the park, the garden, the stables. One stable isn't enough, I must build another," Lord Draymore said thoughtfully, imagining how it would change the appearance of Rivershold.

– Better take care of the peasants," his friend urged him. – Your plans won't go anywhere, but fifty peasants will die before you realise them.

– Oh, come on. They've been living all these years.

– Yes, they have, and that's why their village has become a "rotten place" and will eventually disappear from the face of the earth. How many peasants live there?

– One hundred and fifty-one. Half of them are children.

– You see, if you don't want a bunch of hungry children when their parents die, you should build the village first, then your estate.

Count Draymore smiled thoughtfully, finished his brandy, put the glass on the table, then stood up and walked to the window. The image of Christine, dressed in a modest white dress and bonnet, did not leave his mind.

"Sometimes wildflowers are more beautiful than capricious society roses," thought the count. – "But she is a peasant, and such an affair would disgrace me."

– And here comes Pastor Glowford. And, as I said, alone," he said to his friend with a chuckle, as he looked at the parson approaching the house. – I like the old man, but I think he's an Anglican nut.

– That's what a parson is," said the viscount, grinning.

In a couple of minutes, the butler announced the arrival of Pastor Glowford solemnly, and was immediately ordered by the Count to conduct him into the drawing-room. In a minute the parson stood before the high-born gentlemen from London.

– 'Thank you for receiving me, your Lordship. – The parson bowed delicately, not forgetting the social manners he still remembered despite his long stay in the wilderness. – 'I am flattered by your invitation, and it is a great honour.

– Come in, reverend, sit down," the Count answered him politely. – I wish to introduce my good friend Viscount Wilworth.

– Good afternoon," he said, and extended his hand to shake the parson's.

– I am honoured, sir," replied the parson, shaking his hand, and thinking that the Viscount was not so prim as the Landlord of Walsingham.

– 'I understand, reverend, that you have come on business? – Lord Draymore asked, pointing with his hand to a large, upholstered armchair.

The parson was embarrassed that his dusty shoes were staining the expensive carpet that covered the floor of the Rivershold drawing-room and leaving marks on it. But Lord Draymore and his friend understood the parson's embarrassment and delicately ignored it; they had servants who would always remove the dust and dirt.

– Thank you," said Pastor Glowford briefly, and sat down in the chair offered him.

– Tea, Reverend? Or perhaps you'd prefer freshly brewed coffee? – The Count asked him and rang the bell for the servants.

– Oh, no, not at all… – the parson was embarrassed: the poverty in which he lived was closer to his heart than the luxury that now surrounded him.

– Don't be embarrassed: it is a long journey from Walsingham to Rivershold, and you must be tired," said Lord Draymore, and ordered the maid to bring tea and toast for the parson. – Tell me about your parishioners. As Landlord, I am very interested in their lives. My secretary is in the village at the moment, but I would like to hear from someone who knows the people better than anyone else," the Count said to the parson as soon as the maid had left the drawing room.

– Of course, your Lordship, I will answer all your questions," said the parson, glancing at the large wall clock: he had not expected the Count to be interested in such things, and he intended to finish his business quickly and return home to his sick daughter.

The Count of Draymore sat down in the armchair opposite the parson's chair. The Viscount settled himself on a nearby sofa.

– When I was in the village, I couldn't help but notice how many young children and women there were, and how few men," the Count began. – How could this discrepancy have come about?

– The fact is, your Lordship, that the past winter has brought a real tragedy to our village: many men, women and children have died of disease, and some have frozen to death in their own beds," replied the pastor, with a heavy sigh.

– How many people lived in the village before this winter? – asked Viscount Wilworth, who was interested in the parson's information.

– One hundred and ninety-five, sir.

– And there are one hundred and fifty-one left," said the Count thoughtfully. – It is sad, very sad.

– Yes, sir, it was a great loss, but we did not bury the dead until the beginning of March, as the ground was frozen. My parishioners are very religious, kind and charitable, their lives are devoid of many goods and comforts, but they all live in the fear of the Lord.

– What do the villagers live by?

The maid entered, carrying a tray with a teapot, cups and a large dish of toast. She placed the set on a low table in front of the parson, poured a cup of fragrant, freshly brewed tea and quickly left.

– Farming, Your Lordship: growing cereals, fruit, vegetables, looking after the livestock, fishing, baking bread, and in the summer tending the potato field. But two months ago, our mill went out of order and the peasants have to grind grain by hand," replied the pastor.

"What a disgusting Middle Ages!" – Lord Draymore thought with disgust, only now realising the enormous amount of money that would have to be invested in the development of this remote corner of the countryside. And the waste of money was not to his liking.

– Sir, our village loses people every winter, with more and more single mothers and orphans. There are very few young men left, no more than twelve, and they are mostly girls who have no one to marry, for there are no single men…" The parson thought of his own daughters. – Forgive me, sir, but I cannot stay long: my youngest daughter is ill, and I must be near her.

– Miss Cassandra? – Viscount Wilworth asked in surprise. – 'But what is the matter with her? We had the honour of seeing her after the service, and she looked perfectly well.

– Cassie is in poor health," replied the parson, not wishing to go into details.

– I will send my personal physician with you," said the Viscount, for some reason excited by the thought of Cassie's indisposition.

The Count of Draymore cast a mocking glance at his friend.

– I don't think it is necessary," the parson protested, as he was not comfortable with disturbing the gentlemen with his personal problems.

– Don't mind, reverend," the Count told him in an unappealing tone. – I am sure there is no doctor in your village to see your daughter.

– You're right, sir, we don't have a doctor, but I know a little about medicine," the parson said quietly, clutching his shabby hat.

– It is settled: Mr. Morris will go with you," the Count told him firmly. – But I do not wish to detain you, so I suggest we get down to business. I see you have brought something with you?

The parson readily unfolded on the lid of a large black piano, placed in the middle of the drawing-room, his cotton-board with a drawing of the church.

– First of all, Your Lordship, I would like your help in rebuilding the church: it is a symbol of our faith, but we do not have the money to rebuild it," the pastor said carefully, watching the expression on the landlord's face. – I realise that we dare to trouble you with our troubles, but you are our only hope for the salvation of Walsingham.

Count Draymore scrutinised the drawing of the church.

– It would be a good idea to tear down your old church and build a new one," he said firmly. – It would cost many times more to repair the old one than to build a new one.

– How? Tear it down? – The pastor was horrified. – This church has been here for a hundred and ninety-three years! To tear it down would be a sacrilege!

"How deeply they are hanging on to their ruins! – thought the count with a sneer. – How these poor people love their church! You bet, in such poverty there is nothing else to cling to than faith."

– You do not wish it to be torn down? – he asked the parson with a faint smile.

– Absolutely! Our church is our everything! – He exclaimed fervently, fearing that the lord would indeed tear it down.

– Colin, don't be a sacrilegious man," said Viscount Wilworth gravely to his friend. – 'Spare no expense and restore the church.

– 'You have three daughters, Reverend? – suddenly asked the earl.

– 'Yes, three, sir,' the parson answered him, not understanding what this had to do with the church.

Viscount Wilworth glanced suspiciously at his friend, surprised at how often the latter brought up the conversation about the Glowford sisters.

"Did that peasant girl fascinate him so much?" – he thought, and his heart filled with displeasure: the Count of Draymore was a well-known London hustler, and anything was to be expected of him.

"I wish that village girl would not fall into his net!" – mentally wished the viscount, finding the Earl's behaviour quite disapproving.

– And they are unmarried, as I understand? – He wished to know as much as he could about Christine Glowford.

The pastor, however, did not suspect any mischief; he even thought with gratitude that the lord might find his dear daughters worthy suitors.

– Unmarried, sir," he answered.

– Why not? As far as I know, country girls marry at a rather early age. Your wife should consider their fate.

– Mrs. Glowford has sadly passed away. God called her to His favour when my eldest daughter was nine. Emma was a worthy woman.

– How long ago was this?

– Seventeen years ago, sir. She died in childbirth.

– I'm sorry, Reverend, and I give you my sincere condolences. But why don't you marry your daughters yourself?

– The eldest Catherine won't leave the house. She's the lady of the house and takes care of Cassie. My other daughter, Christine, has had many offers, but for some unknown reason has turned them down. And Cassie … I don't think it's necessary to explain.

"Poor Cassie! What will happen to her when her father and sisters pass away? No one will marry the poor girl… She will die," thought Viscount Wilworth sympathetically.

– I am sorry to intrude into your conversation, but I would like to offer your youngest daughter a course of treatment: there is a well-known psychiatrist in London who can help Miss Cassandra in her mental development, – the Viscount offered from the bottom of his heart, sincerely wishing to help the girl.

– Thank you, sir, but Cassie doesn't need any treatment. I cannot go against God's plan," the parson replied sullenly.

– But who will take care of her after your death? – The viscount asked unhappily, unpleasantly surprised at the pastor's obstinacy.

– Catherine will always be by her side. And in the Lord I trust. He will never forsake my Cassie," he replied with the most determined look, for he did not like the conversation with the Viscount.

– Drink your tea, reverend," said the Count kindly; he had noticed the wrinkles in the parson's brow, and had decided to occupy his mind with another conversation, for he had got all he wanted to know about Christine. – But let us return to the restoration of the church. I will call an architect from London tomorrow to draw up a plan of restoration, and we will restore your much-loved church, and then we will take care of your houses, which are in a terrible state.

Suddenly the butler entered the drawing room.

– Yes?" the Count addressed him.

– Miss Glowford is here, sir," the butler said in a slightly dismissive tone.

– Show her in," said Lord Draymore, thinking that it was the lovely Christine he had in mind.

– She refused to come with me, sir, but said she had an urgent need to see her father, the Reverend Glowford," said the butler politely.

– Oh, I must be urgently needed in the village! – exclaimed the parson, leaping to his feet and wringing his jewelled hat in his hands. – Thank you, your Lordship, for your time. – He bowed respectfully to the landlord.

– You needn't thank me, reverend, I'll accompany you," the Count offered him politely, rising to his feet.

– Oh, no need, sir! – The parson was embarrassed.

But the Count only smiled and pointed with his hand to the door.

This embarrassed Viscount Wilworth: he had guessed his friend's thoughts, so he also went to escort the parson to the door of the great hall.

As Lord Draymore had hoped, and Viscount Wilworth had no doubt, Christine Glowford was waiting for them in the hall: she was as beautiful as she had been on that occasion, and she was not spoilt by her old, shabby, grey dress, nor by her coarse clogs, as dusty as her father's shoes. Her long, wavy hair was loose and framed her pale, thin face beautifully. The girl looked very embarrassed, and when she saw the Count of Draymore, she lowered her gaze bashfully to the floor, well aware of the impression her beauty was making on the Earl. But Christine was really excited. She went up to her father and looked anxiously into his face.

– Ah, father! Hurry! Cassie has got much worse, and she's calling for you! – she said excitedly. – I borrowed a horse from a neighbour to come and fetch you!

The parson immediately became agitated, and his heart trembled.

– I will send my physician to you at once," said the viscount, who was watching the scene.

"Pretty! Pretty!" – thought Lord Draymore, looking intently at the excited and embarrassed face of the girl.

Viscount Wilworth left the hall and hurried after the doctor.

– What a pity! I hope your sister will soon recover," said the earl, looking at Christine with ill-concealed admiration.

The girl turned her beautiful eyes upon him and blushed.

– Thank you, sir, you are very kind," she murmured, surprised and delighted that the Count had addressed her.

– Come, Christine, there is no time to lose! – The pastor said hastily to his daughter, and taking her by the hand, went towards the large front doors. At the door he stopped and thanked the Count once more for his kindness.

– It is my duty, Reverend, to help the poor," he replied, wanting to make a good impression on the beautiful Christine.

She turned round and smiled at him with a smile full of embarrassment.

The parson was so puzzled by Cassie's condition that he paid no attention to the admiring glances exchanged between the Count of Draymore and his daughter Christine.

The Glowfords rode out of the landlord's huge, luxurious house, mounted the old, shabby horse waiting for them at the gate, and the horse trotted discreetly to Walsingham.

Viscount Wilworth had hoped that his physician would go with them, so when he saw that they had not waited for him, he felt slightly annoyed.

– Already gone? – he asked his friend, climbing the stairs to the first floor, where the sleeping rooms were.

– You have heard that little sister is not well at all," said the earl, absorbed in his thoughts of Christine.

– I have reported Miss Cassandra's illness to Mr. Morris, and he will see her as soon as he is ready to come to the village," said the Viscount, displeased at Colin's treatment of poor Cassie.

– Fine," murmured Lord Draymore; he was no longer listening to his friend's speech, but remembering the look Christine had given him before she left the house.

"A beautiful flower, blooming in the wilderness, far from the eyes of the city dandies… It is a pity she is only a rude peasant girl," he thought with regret and displeasure.