Read Online Love and Money by Phyllis Bentley - Free Book Online

years ago so spruce and capable, had now a bent and shabby look. His livery was creased, his collar dirty; his nose red, his grey hair untidy; his air discouraged. He saw Thomas’s look of surprise and wagged his head in an embarrassed fashion.
    â€œHow goes it at Bellomont then, Simon?” asked Thomas.
    â€œAh, we have fine goings-on there, fine goings-on indeed,” said Simon mournfully. “Nowt but gleek all night and half the day.”
    â€œGleek?”
    â€œ ’Tis a game of cards. And Mistress Brownwood——”
    â€œOh? She is still at Bellomont?”
    â€œAye, she and her brat. She encourages him to play. Now Mistress Joanna always tried to keep him from it. But this one plays herself, and having nothing of her own, of course she comes on Sir Richard to pay her debts.”
    â€œAnd Sir John Resmond—does he come often to Bellomont?” enquired Thomas drily.
    â€œA sight too often for my liking,” replied the old man. “Why do you not come to see your uncle, Master Thomas?”
    â€œHow would he receive me?”
    The old man paused. “He sent you the mare,” he said in a grumbling tone.
    Accordingly next day Thomas rode back with Simon to Bellomont.
    It was just on dusk when they reached the house. No lights were visible in the windows as they approached. Thomas wished to see his new mare stabled himself, and wentround with Simon to the courtyard. Here there were lanterns and talk, for though none of Sir Richard’s grooms seemed to be about, a couple of men in the Resmond livery were saddling three horses. In reply to Thomas’s question one of the men told him civilly enough that Sir John Resmond had been a-visiting Sir Richard and was just leaving. The man then fell to admiring Thomas’s fine mare. For a moment or two this seemed natural enough to Thomas, but then the fellow’s transports struck him as a trifle excessive, and the way they were renewed when Thomas made to leave showed that their aim was to detain him. He turned at once to the stable door.
    â€œThere’s no need to hurry,” cried one of the Resmond men. “Black Dick’s out paying his debts.”
    â€œOf whom do you speak?” said Thomas stiffly.
    â€œMaster Thomas here is Sir Richard’s nephew,” mumbled Simon.
    â€œOh! Beg pardon, sir, I’m sure,” said the man. “I intended no wrong. Black Dick’s just a name, like, we give to your uncle, because of his black hair.”
    The other Resmond man turned away to hide a snigger.
    â€œHis hair and his deeds,” he muttered.
    â€œSimon, where are my uncle’s serving-men?” demanded Thomas haughtily.
    â€œThey’re sleeping it off, sir,” put in the sniggering man of the Resmond pair.
    â€œSleeping what off?”
    â€œLast night’s entertainment, sir,” said the man. “Oh, there was hot work here last night, I warrant you.”
    His insolent air, old Simon’s silence and embarrassed look, told Thomas that the man only spoke the truth. He quitted the stable abruptly and entered the house by a side door.
    Here all was quiet and dark save for a distant sibilant hiss which Thomas presently defined as voices whispering. He made his way towards the sound, quietly opening a door here and there as he passed. One room held all too clear traces of last night’s “entertainment”; cards thrown down on the table face upwards, glasses overturned, a heavy smell ofwine, a chair lying sideways on the floor. Thomas frowned and passed on. A dim light now appeared to shine feebly from his left; he turned a corner, and saw Sir John Resmond and Mistress Brownwood sitting together in a little closet under the stairs, a small table and a single candle between them.. Gold pieces lay on the table; it seemed as if they were striking some bargain of which the terms did not as yet satisfy the lady, for her left hand was stretched towards Sir