miserably.
‘Well, girl,’ he told her at last, ‘the choice is yours. It has been from the start of time; the female has the prerogative to change her mind and better to do this than wear
the wrong wedding band,’ he advised laconically, refusing to be drawn any more.
‘Oh, Sam!’ Mary breathed. ‘You don’t condemn me?’
Sam gave her a smile. ‘Of course not!’ he replied briskly. ‘And I’ll not say a word to the Mistress or anyone but remember this, the Mistress does not miss much that
happens on this island,’ he warned quickly. ‘If you do meet le Page again to sort something out, make sure you are not observed. There are few secrets anyhow on Guernsey and it never
ceases to amaze me how much information the Mistress acquires without appearing to ask a single question.’
‘I’ll remember!’ Mary whispered with relief then, on an impulse, stood leaned over and kissed one leathery cheek. ‘Thank you, Sam! I feel much better for talking to
you!’
* * *
Louise looked at the girl from across a huge, dark table in the best room. She dropped her eyes and calculated again in swift, silent checking but there was no error.
Mary studied the room. Since her talk two days ago with Sam her heart had lifted while her emotions settled down. What exactly would happen in the future she had no idea and for the time being
was content to live each day as it came. She liked this room, the first time she had been in it long enough to study its detail. It was very large and filled with fine, old furniture without being
cluttered. There were four large, easy chairs and dining chairs ranged themselves alongside the table. Another enormous dresser flanked one wall, filled with top quality china. A number of
paintings hung from the walls, all of them seascapes and, though she knew nothing of art, Mary liked them and sensed they were well executed. Underfoot was a thick, mottled green carpet—the
same shade as the long, lined curtains.
‘Like it?’ Tante asked suddenly. She had been examining Mary’s face, puzzled by the girl but not displeased. She had brightened up recently and Louise hoped this was the end of
the homesickness.
‘It’s lovely!’ Mary replied enthusiastically. ‘So rich yet lived in and all those books!’
‘Help yourself to whatever you wish to read,’ Louise replied generously. She was no great reader herself but understood the fascination print could have for others. Their vast
collection had been acquired by her father who had never gone to sea without two fresh books in his cabin.
Mary nodded. ‘What is that?’
Louise grinned and sat back in her chair. ‘That is the
Jonquière
. Most good Guernsey homes have one. Even the humble fisherman’s cottage. It’s common name is
the Green Bed. They go back a long way historically and once were nothing but fern covered couches used by the farmers for a midday rest. Now they are simply another island custom. A Guernsey home
would not be that without its Green Bed.’
‘You have Guernsey milk cans in silver as well as two in good china.’ Mary pointed.
Louise eyed her thoughtfully. ‘For someone reared in an orphanage you have taste and knowledge but I suppose you acquired both in service. I can see too why you were given an initial
teaching post. You have good handwriting and your figures are most accurate.’
Mary was pleased. There had been few genuine compliments in her life to date.
Louise continued. ‘You said you wanted some work to do though it’s not necessary,’ she added quickly. ‘As my grandson’s intended you have the right to live here
doing nothing until he returns and you marry. However I think such idleness might pall after a while.’
Mary felt the brown eyes on her as she stared at the Green Bed. Here it came again—the ugly problem of marrying Duret plus the consequences if she did not.
‘If you really want to help I’d be glad,’ Louise said.
‘I’d like that,’ Mary told her
‘Well, girl,’ he told her at last, ‘the choice is yours. It has been from the start of time; the female has the prerogative to change her mind and better to do this than wear
the wrong wedding band,’ he advised laconically, refusing to be drawn any more.
‘Oh, Sam!’ Mary breathed. ‘You don’t condemn me?’
Sam gave her a smile. ‘Of course not!’ he replied briskly. ‘And I’ll not say a word to the Mistress or anyone but remember this, the Mistress does not miss much that
happens on this island,’ he warned quickly. ‘If you do meet le Page again to sort something out, make sure you are not observed. There are few secrets anyhow on Guernsey and it never
ceases to amaze me how much information the Mistress acquires without appearing to ask a single question.’
‘I’ll remember!’ Mary whispered with relief then, on an impulse, stood leaned over and kissed one leathery cheek. ‘Thank you, Sam! I feel much better for talking to
you!’
* * *
Louise looked at the girl from across a huge, dark table in the best room. She dropped her eyes and calculated again in swift, silent checking but there was no error.
Mary studied the room. Since her talk two days ago with Sam her heart had lifted while her emotions settled down. What exactly would happen in the future she had no idea and for the time being
was content to live each day as it came. She liked this room, the first time she had been in it long enough to study its detail. It was very large and filled with fine, old furniture without being
cluttered. There were four large, easy chairs and dining chairs ranged themselves alongside the table. Another enormous dresser flanked one wall, filled with top quality china. A number of
paintings hung from the walls, all of them seascapes and, though she knew nothing of art, Mary liked them and sensed they were well executed. Underfoot was a thick, mottled green carpet—the
same shade as the long, lined curtains.
‘Like it?’ Tante asked suddenly. She had been examining Mary’s face, puzzled by the girl but not displeased. She had brightened up recently and Louise hoped this was the end of
the homesickness.
‘It’s lovely!’ Mary replied enthusiastically. ‘So rich yet lived in and all those books!’
‘Help yourself to whatever you wish to read,’ Louise replied generously. She was no great reader herself but understood the fascination print could have for others. Their vast
collection had been acquired by her father who had never gone to sea without two fresh books in his cabin.
Mary nodded. ‘What is that?’
Louise grinned and sat back in her chair. ‘That is the
Jonquière
. Most good Guernsey homes have one. Even the humble fisherman’s cottage. It’s common name is
the Green Bed. They go back a long way historically and once were nothing but fern covered couches used by the farmers for a midday rest. Now they are simply another island custom. A Guernsey home
would not be that without its Green Bed.’
‘You have Guernsey milk cans in silver as well as two in good china.’ Mary pointed.
Louise eyed her thoughtfully. ‘For someone reared in an orphanage you have taste and knowledge but I suppose you acquired both in service. I can see too why you were given an initial
teaching post. You have good handwriting and your figures are most accurate.’
Mary was pleased. There had been few genuine compliments in her life to date.
Louise continued. ‘You said you wanted some work to do though it’s not necessary,’ she added quickly. ‘As my grandson’s intended you have the right to live here
doing nothing until he returns and you marry. However I think such idleness might pall after a while.’
Mary felt the brown eyes on her as she stared at the Green Bed. Here it came again—the ugly problem of marrying Duret plus the consequences if she did not.
‘If you really want to help I’d be glad,’ Louise said.
‘I’d like that,’ Mary told her
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