Page 29 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle (Ashmore Castle #1)

The Cordwells had come to the Castle for Easter, and Linda and the children had stayed on afterwards to be company for her mother. And since Linda’s economies included not having a governess for her children, she frequently called on the girls to look after Arabella and Arthur.

‘I don’t mind it some of the time,’ Alice said, as they escaped down the stairs one April morning, ‘but not every day.’

‘Poor little things,’ said soft-hearted Rachel. ‘Nobody wants them. They’re rather sweet.’

‘They’re rather dull. Daisy can have them – she doesn’t mind.’

‘Daisy has her own work.’

‘Well, I don’t see why Linda shouldn’t look after them herself. She’s nothing else to do.’

‘Comforting Mama?’ Rachel suggested.

‘Mama doesn’t want comforting. She hates having anyone hovering about her. Like a bluebottle, I heard her say to Linda yesterday. Anyway, we’re out of it for now. Let’s go and watch the smith.’

Every six weeks, the smith, Eli Rowse, came up to the Castle to do routine removes.

Alice and Rachel had seen plenty of horses shod before, so it was no novelty, but their lives were so lacking in amusements, it was something to do.

Alice brightened when she saw that it was Axe Brandom who had come, and not his master.

‘Now, Lady Rachel,’ Josh said, as they headed towards the forge, ‘I told you you couldn’t have your horses this morning. Smith’s here.’

‘Where’s Mr Rowse?’ Alice asked.

‘Got a kick on the wrist from a horse yesterday,’ Josh said. ‘’Taint broken, but he can’t do much one-handed. Yours’ll be done this morning, and you can ride this afternoon if you like.’

‘We know,’ said Rachel.

‘We just came to watch,’ said Alice.

‘Well, don’t you go getting in the way. Stand over that side, and don’t be asking a lot of foolish questions.’

‘My questions are never foolish,’ Alice said, with dignity.

Axe had removed the shoe from the off-fore of one of the grey carriage horses and, with the hoof comfortably nestled on his leather lap, was paring and shaping the overgrown horn.

He looked up as the girls approached, and blushed slightly under Alice’s ready smile.

The mare nuzzled reflectively at his fair hair, wondering if it was good to eat.

‘Hello,’ Alice said. He nodded shyly in response. She glanced around. ‘No Dolly today?’

‘Back at the forge,’ he said. ‘She’s getting too big to walk far.’

‘You must miss her.’

‘Ah,’ he assented. He picked up the shoe and laid it on the hoof to assess, then put it aside and picked up the rasp.

After a bit he said, ‘She’s getting near her time.

’ He tried the shoe again, was satisfied, and started to nail it on.

The mare lowered startlingly white eyelashes over her dark eyes and dozed.

So much trust, Alice thought. He had that effect on animals.

‘How is the hare?’ Rachel asked.

‘Died,’ he said.

‘Oh dear! How sad!’ Rachel’s eyes filled with tears.

Axe glanced at her with alarm. ‘’Twas the shock, I expect. They can’t take much handling, hares.’

‘But I expect it knew you were helping it,’ Alice said, for her sister’s sake. Rachel turned away and blew her nose. Alice almost didn’t dare ask, but after a pause she said, ‘And your hedge-hoglets?’

‘Gone,’ he said. ‘Back in the woods. Once they started eating proper – beetles and such – I could let ’em go.

’ He finished with the hoof, and turned his attention to the off-hind, drawing it up to rest in his lap, and pincering out the nails.

This put him in the perfect position for the mare to lash him across the face with her tail.

‘Shall I hold it for you?’ Alice said, stepping closer.

He met her eyes properly for the first time, and now she blushed a little. ‘Kind of you, m’lady,’ he said. ‘You don’t want to get your hands dirty, though.’

‘I can always wash them,’ said Alice, sensibly.

Holding the tail meant she was standing very close to him.

She could smell his sweat, and the leather of his apron, and a tangy whiff of the forge fire, which reminded her of railway stations.

Rachel had wandered off to talk to one of the stable cats, so she had Axe to herself.

It felt very cosy – and also a little bit thrilling.

For a while she watched him working in silence, but she wanted conversation. She asked something she had been vaguely wondering for a long time. ‘Why are you called Axe?’

He seemed to consider, but she guessed he was just assembling his words. Probably, she thought, with a sense of discovery, he didn’t usually talk much to anyone – living alone, and working in the forge. He didn’t seem to mind her presence, or her questions. She sensed no reluctance from him.

‘My ma,’ he said at last, ‘she favoured Bible names for us childer. She called my eldest brother Seth. Then there was my sisters, Ruth and Esther, and my brother Job. When I come along, she was a bit poorly, not in a way to think about names. So she told my dad to pick something. Well, Dad, ’twasn’t a job he relished.

Got in a bit of a state about it.’ He paused while he contemplated the fit of the shoe.

‘Go on,’ she encouraged him.

He glanced up at her briefly, then down. She could have sworn he was smiling. ‘He couldn’t read, couldn’t Dad, so it was only what he heard, like. And the ’pistle the Sunday previous’d been from Axe of the Apostles.’

‘Oh, my goodness!’ She laughed.

‘He thought “Axe” was a good name – sounded kind of strong.’

‘Like a mighty warrior?’ Alice said.

‘Like that,’ he acknowledged. ‘Time he found out the mistake, everyone’d got used to it. So I always bin “Axe”, ever since.’

‘I think it’s a fine name,’ Alice said. ‘It suits you.’

‘Don’t know about that,’ he mumbled shyly. When the hoof was finished, he let it to the ground and straightened up. ‘That’s her done,’ he said, patting the shiny rump. ‘Thank you for the tail.’ He stood looking down at her, as if prepared for more conversation.

She racked her brain for a subject, and remembered the jackdaw. ‘How’s Captain?’

‘Just the same.’

‘Still talking nonsense?’

He nodded, then said, ‘Learned a new trick.’

‘What’s that?’

‘He fetches me a teaspoon to stir my tea. I say, “Spoon!” and he flies over to the dresser, and brings me one back. I leave the drawer open a bit,’ he admitted.

‘Oh, how clever! I’d love to see that!’ Alice cried.

‘Call by my cottage some time, when you’re passing, an’ he’ll show off for you. He likes company. He’s got a few little tricks I taught him.’

They were interrupted by Josh, who came over to say, ‘Now, Lady Alice, you’ll get all mucky standing there. And you’re in the way. Let the smith get on with his work, and don’t keep him chatting. He’s not paid to talk.’

Axe was his own brother, but he gave him a disapproving look.

Alice didn’t want to get Axe into trouble, so she gave him a warm farewell smile and backed away.

Josh had been their groom since her first pony, so he had a lot of authority, and they were accustomed to obeying him.

But he was very different from his brother, she reflected, as she went to join Rachel.

He talked a lot more than Axe, but there was no warmth in his words.

He looked after her and Rachel and she trusted him completely, but she never got the feeling that he actually liked them.

Improving weather, and the April breezes drying the tracks, made walking down to the village an acceptable outing on one’s afternoon off. Dory was walking along Canons Ashmore high street, idly looking in the shops, when suddenly James appeared at her side.

‘So,’ he said, slowing his stride to hers, but staring straight ahead, not at her, ‘new maid joined us.’

Now that her ladyship was back in residence, Mrs Webster had made her plea for May, the housemaid who had ‘gone to a better place’ to be replaced; and Lady Stainton had said, ‘You had better recruit an additional maid while you’re at it.

I’m sure there is a great deal of spring cleaning left to do. ’

Rose had told Dory (they were fast becoming friends) that Mrs Webster had almost fallen over in surprise. ‘She’s wondering what else she can ask for while her ladyship’s in the mood.’

The new maids were Tilda, a stocky, gingery girl with strong red hands and not much to say for herself, and Milly.

Milly was extremely pale, and with thin, limp hair so fair it was almost transparent.

She had a long, pointed nose, and the rims of her nostrils were always a little pink, as though she had been crying, or had a cold.

Dory and Rose had agreed together that she looked like a white mouse, but she seemed a pleasant enough girl.

‘What about it?’ Dory answered James, though she guessed where he was going.

‘William’s stuck on that Milly – mad about her. You didn’t last long, did you?’ he jeered. ‘Coupla months, that’s all. She stole him from right under your nose.’

‘He’d already gone off me,’ Dory said indifferently.

‘Gah! All heartbroken, aren’t you, losing your sweetheart?’

‘Don’t talk so daft,’ she said briskly. ‘I was only being nice to him.’

‘So why aren’t you ever nice to me?’ he asked, looking down at her insinuatingly.

‘Because you’re not a nice person.’ The words seemed to shock him, and for an instant she was sorry she had spoken them.

‘I’m nice,’ he protested. Then he thought for a moment. ‘I could be – if people were nice to me.’

‘You see,’ she said patiently, ‘it doesn’t work like that. It’s not a trade. Not everything’s got a price-tag on it.’

James, who thought exactly the opposite, considered. It was a ruse he had never considered before – tricking people by being nice to them. Was there a return to be had? What were the odds? Would it be too much of an effort, being friendly?

They had reached the haberdasher’s. ‘I’m going in here for some wool and silks,’ she said. ‘Goodbye.’