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Chapter One Morland Court, the Parker estate, near
Bristol, Tuesday, 1 June 1773 Early
in the afternoon, a liveried servant led young Annie Cartier into the old
baronet's room. Often during his health's decline, when he was mostly
confined to his bed, he had asked her to sing and dance for him. She did this
gladly for the pleasure that it gave him. Only fifteen, she was unaccustomed
to witnessing the slow approach of death. As many times as she saw Sir
Abraham Parker, she continued to be shocked. He looked like a barely living
skeleton. This might be the last time that he would hear her song. Propped
up with pillows, he smiled kindly when he saw her. She was touched. His
smiles were rare—and usually ironic. Her ballads and airs seemed to take
him back to his childhood, a much less stressful time in his life, before he
grew absorbed in the business of gaining wealth. He once mentioned that she
reminded him of a nanny he loved who used to sing for him. Annie
asked how he felt. "I’m
weak, but still able to enjoy your sweet voice. What will it be?" "An
Irish air, this time, a simple lullaby." As she sang, he closed his
eyes. The gentle melody calmed his laboured breathing, washed lines of care
from his pallid face. At the end, his eyes remained closed for a few moments.
He seemed to savour the melody. His lips moved slightly, as if he were
humming. Then he gazed at her fondly and thanked her. "What
will you do this summer?" he asked. "My
parents and I shall spend a month entertaining a noble French family at their
estate, Beaumont, a few miles south of Paris. I'll sing French as well as
English ballads and play Puck in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream.
This is my last day at Morland Court." “I’m
sorry to lose you,” he said. "You have some of Puck's spirit, especially
the playfulness. I wish my sons had it. I envy the French family." She
thanked him and bid him goodbye. For a
moment she stood in the open doorway and looked back. He said, "I'll
remember you, Annie. One of the many regrets of my life is that you aren’t my
daughter. I'm unhappy with my sons.” He sighed. “Enough of them! I want your
song to linger in my mind after you're gone. Farewell." She
closed the door gently and breathed a prayer for the old man. * * * At the
head of the stairs, she met her cousin Beverly, who had recently married into
the Parker family. Her husband was Thomas, the youngest of the baronet's
three sons, the most handsome and amiable – and a bit of a fop. "How
did Old Parker look?" she asked. He was only called Old Parker behind
his back. "Poorly,"
Annie replied. "He's
writing his will, isn't he?" "Not
while I was with him." Annie thought her cousin showed too much interest
in money and the fine things it could buy. Beverly
glanced over her shoulder. "The family thinks he'll die any day
now." Annie
shook her head. "They're like vultures hanging over his body. He's a
most tenacious man and may live for months." She started down the
stairs. But
Beverly had more on her mind. "Let's talk outside where we can be
alone." "At
the Observatory," Annie suggested. "Nobody ever goes there at this
hour. They’re napping or playing at cards." * * * Under
a blue, sun-soaked sky, the cousins walked up the hill to the west of the
manor house. On its highest point they reached a whitewashed octagonal
building, crowned by a balustrade. Sir Abraham had added a platform to the
building's flat roof and mounted a telescope. He used to watch ships sailing
to and from the port of Bristol, many of them carrying his goods. He wasn’t
much interested in the stars. The
two women entered the building and climbed up a narrow iron stairway to the
platform. A stout canvas covered the telescope, so they let it be. A gentle
westerly wind billowed their skirts as they looked out over a sheep pasture
stretching for half a mile to the Bristol Channel. A dozen ships rocked
calmly in the channel, sails furled, waiting for high tide to carry them into
the city’s harbour. The Welsh coast lay in the distance. Beverly
turned to Annie. "As your older and wiser cousin, I want to warn you
about Seth Judd." "I
know him, Sir Abraham's illegitimate son, the oldest of his boys. Has he
threatened me?" "Your
blooming beauty seems to fascinate him. He has been talking about you in the
company of his lusty male friends. And because you're a young singer and an
actress, he thinks it shouldn't be too difficult to . . . " Beverly
paused. "How shall I say this? Well, I'll use his words. He intends ‘to
bed you.’ He's pressed for time since he'll soon sail for Jamaica on one of
his father's ships." Annie
felt her cheeks flush hot. "Presumptuous man! Handsome and strong, to be
sure, but he's a cruel brute. When he rides, he lashes the horse more than he
needs to. He smiles as his spurs dig into the horse's side. I've heard that
he treats kitchen maids and Bristol prostitutes in much the same way." The
two women came down from the roof and started back to the manor house.
"Thank you for the warning, Beverly. I'll watch out for him." *** Annie
went to her room in the upper floor of the manor house to pack her trunk. She
asked her maid, a young country girl, “Please fetch my undergarments
that have dried outside in the laundry shed.” A few minutes after the
maid left, Annie happened to glance out the window. The maid was walking
toward the shed. Annie was about to
return to the trunk when she noticed a man hiding in the shed’s shadow,
spying on the maid. Annie
retrieved her opera glass, studied the man and gasped. It was Seth Judd. He
emerged furtively and slipped into the shed. The maid had earlier complained
that Judd followed her and taunted her with lewd remarks. In an instant Annie
realized that he intended to harm the maid and had to be stopped. She
rushed to the door, down the stairs, and out to the shed. For a moment she
listened to muffled voices. Then she heard the maid cry out, “No.” Annie
tried the door. It was latched. She hammered on the door with both fists and
shouted, “Open up, Seth, or I’ll call my friend the groom and every
man in sight. We’ll break down the door.” For a few moments, there
was dead silence inside. Then the latch was pulled and Judd slipped out,
shutting the door behind him. “You
crazy bitch, what do you think you’re doing?” A tall, muscular man, he leaned
over her, jaw thrust out, eyes blazing. She
stepped back, stared at his groin and said calmly. “Button your breeches,
Seth. You look foolish.” He
glanced down, confused and embarrassed, then fumbled with his buttons.
Finally, he sputtered, “What I do with the maid is none of your business.”
His words took on a whining tone. “She agreed to this meeting.” “She
did not!” Annie retorted. “I sent her here, saw you sneak into the shed,
heard her scream.” Annie sneered at him. “Now leave her alone or I’ll report
you to Sir Abraham. He’s still the master at Morland Court.” Men
working nearby had become curious and moved toward the shed. The groom
stepped out of the stable, frowning. Judd glanced at the men, then stared at
Annie, his eyes burning with impotent malice. He hissed, “You’ll pay for this, someday, I promise.”
He squared his shoulders and marched off. Annie
ignored him and entered the shed. The maid was crouched in a corner, sobbing,
her clothes in disarray. Annie raised her up and brought her back to the
room. “Rest here, I’ll finish the packing. Sleep with me tonight. The rogue
will soon be thousands of miles away. Good riddance! When I’m gone, the
housekeeper will look after you.” A few
moments later, as Annie laid a gown in the trunk, her hands began to tremble
and her knees wobbled. Then her whole body shook. She leaned against the
wall, gulping air. The fright passed and her nerves returned nearly to
normal. But she was certain that Seth Judd had not finished with her. |