Read Online Eliza’s Daughter by Joan Aiken - Free Book Online

watching Jeff Diswoody instruct Triz in the art of managing her pony.
    A moment before the Squire had ridden by, scattering gloom and despondency about him as was his usual habit.
    I watched him out of earshot and then said: ‘No choice, ma’am? How could that be, so kind and beautiful as you are?’
    But, of course, I knew full well what she meant. How could I not?
    â€˜I was one of five sisters,’ she explained. ‘And my father, though an earl, was not a wealthy man. He could not give us large portions. And no man in his right mind is going to offer for a girl with a squint like mine. Why, in many countries – just across the Channel, even now, in poor peasant communities – a cast such as I have would be sufficient to get me burned as a witch.’
    â€˜Yes, I do understand, ma’am.’ And I did. I remembered the gypsies.
    â€˜So, in fact, I was fortunate. The lot of an unmarried woman is bleak enough. To be a spinster aunt, a poor relation – that is bad, even without a physical handicap, causing one to be despised and sneered at. In consideration of my excellent connections, Mr Vexford was prepared to overlook my unsatisfactory appearance. But now, I fear, he reckons that he has made but a poor bargain.’
    She sighed, watching the stocky, angry figure canter off down the driveway to join a meeting of otter-hounds at Folworthy. Such sports took him farther and farther afield.
    â€˜This house is nothing but a nest of cripples and misfits!’ I had heard him shout furiously at his wife. ‘Damme, a man might as well live shut up in the Dunster Asylum. All I can do is get out!’
    It was true that Lady Hariot had a large-hearted proclivity for selecting to serve her those who also suffered from some disadvantage and thus might otherwise have fared badly. Her maid, Prue, walked with a severe limp; Mrs Lundy the housekeeper stammered when she spoke; my own odd hands, I felt sure, played no inconsiderable part in the Squire’s dislike and Lady Hariot’s favour. Even Jeff Diswoody was deaf, due to a fall in infancy.
    I think she had noticed my hands on that very first afternoon.
    â€˜They are a most unusual feature, perhaps unique,’ she said sighing, when Triz and I commenced lessons on the pianoforte and the music master, Mr Godfinch, made some nervous and startled comment. ‘To have one hand so much larger than the other, and the sixth finger, I have never encountered anything so – so out of the common way. When playing the piano, I daresay it may be a decided advantage; but otherwise, my poor child, I imagine that it must have caused you some grief and abuse?’
    â€˜Oh, bless you, yes, ma’am, all the children in Othery call me names, such as Liz Lug-fingers, and they used to sing: ‘Three six nine, the goose drank wine, six fingers on your hand, your mother came from mermaid-land.’ But I pay them no heed; some of them are frightened of me and think I could put a spell on ’em, but the rest are friendly enough.’
    With the hard knowledge of experience though, I was well aware that no man was likely to take me to wife; indeed, Hoby and the rest had often said so. Who in the world wants a girl with odd hands? Or children probably cursed with a similar blemish? Even if the girl were as beautiful as Venus? For which reason, when Dr Moultrie told me about the Roman gods and goddesses, Venus was never my prime favourite. I guessed that the Goddess of Love and Beauty would never look favourably on me. Rather, for my patron, I chose Athene, the Wise Lady, and asked for her help in any new enterprise. And she had often given it.
    However my extra-large right hand and surplus finger did, as Mr Godfinch had suggested, serve me well in playing the piano; stretching an octave was no problem at all, whereas the fairylike hands and fingers of little Triz were Mr Godfinch’s despair, and her singing voice was but a faint thread