Despite the Angels (21 page)

“You are all very welcome to this wonderful meal, in celebration of a spectacular harvest. Later I will talk more about how you have all played your roles in this year’s bounty, but for the moment, let’s not waste time with these wonderful smells in our noses – Bon Appétit!” Daniel raised his glass towards his employees and their wives and sat down, to applause. The food was handed around and wine was poured. Bread was broken and dipped in the aromatic sauces, and the gathering became noisy with laughter and joking between the cries of ‘pass me that’ and ‘more wine anyone?’

Eloise sat happily at the top of the long trestle table to Daniel’s right and revelled in the feeling of belonging, to her husband on one side, and her parents and brothers and Pascale and many other old friends from the village, sitting all along the table. If only it could be this friendly all the time, she thought, as she looked up at the starry sky so calm and unhurried above her.  And if only it could be a good harvest every year, then even the poor might get a chance. She looked along the table, noticing who was not there, who would never be there again. The last two lean years had stolen so many friends, particularly the old, who could not manage in hard times. Of course, it would still be hard for them, even if Daniel gave wages in money to his workers. The old could not work as fast and could never hope to earn enough. I hope everyone old has a young person belonging to them, to earn for them. Please, God, she thought earnestly.

“You are thinking well, Eloise, not just of yourself. That is good. Well done.” Trynor turned to Jotin and smiled, a bit smugly. “My girl is progressing well, isn’t she? How do you feel about Daniel? Is the energy-meld working for him?”

“It is a bit harder for him, nothing in his daily life supports what he has read. Also the class system in this country nearly overpowers the equality he feels with Eloise.” Jotin was thoughtful. “He took on a hard task. Learning to think of others when you have not suffered yourself is much more difficult. I think he is doing all right, he is beginning to hear Eloise and Nicholas when they point out the sufferings of the poor. But he is not doing enough about it to save himself problems in the future. Oh dear, here we go!”
Daniel was getting to his feet and calling for silence. The hush that fell over the table came so suddenly that Eloise could hear her own heart beating. She clutched her napkin and found she was twisting it through her fingers, round and round. She looked up at Daniel, standing so confidently beside her, and then down the table. Her mother in law was nibbling a pastry, breaking off tiny pieces to bring to her mouth on a tiny spoon, apparently entirely absorbed in this activity. Charlotte and Catherine were ignoring each other even more carefully than they were ignoring the momentous event that was about to occur. The villagers were staring at Daniel as though at a priest on the altar, as though he could offer them salvation; only the foreman looked a little unsure. Nicholas looked smug. Then her eyes came round to Pascale and she relaxed. Pascale was smiling her big open smile as usual. Eloise found that she could smile back and her hands stilled. She only slowly became aware that Daniel had finished speaking and that changes were happening around the table. The village women were clapping, a little uncertainly, but the men were getting to their feet, their fists clenching, their mouths working. Nicholas was shouting.

“How dare you insult us! After all I said, I thought you understood. You understand nothing, you, you …” Luc was beside Nicholas and pulled him into his seat before he could find an insult to throw at Daniel.  Eloise pulled at Daniel’s sleeve and he sank down into his chair.

“Why are they angry, Monsieur? What did you say to them?”

“I told them that as this year has been a good harvest after two bad ones, I am going to pay them a bonus and give them two pints of wine each as well as the piquette. I think it is a good offer.” Daniel was quiet, watching the arguments that had broken out around the table with an air of puzzlement.

“How big a bonus? And what about next year? Will you pay the bonus all now, do we have that much money? And when will they get the wine?” Eloise was full of questions. Daniel looked at her and smiled ruefully.

“My little village wife. That is what they are all asking, all those questions. Except the size of the bonus, they know that.” He told Eloise what he had offered.

“Well, that will be helpful, but it will not keep anyone from starvation if anything else goes wrong for them. It is less than a loaf a week. And did you not tell me that tax must be paid? Oh, Daniel, I do not know what to suggest now.”

The foreman came over and touched his cap. “Mon
Seigneur, I am sorry. I did not understand what you planned. I would have advised otherwise. Good night and thank you for a lovely meal.” His wife, standing just behind him, curtseyed and added her thanks, “and for the bonus, Seigneur.”

The other villagers left quickly once the foreman had gone. The women mostly expressed thanks with a little curtsey, but the men were less respectful and confined their thanks to ‘for a pleasant evening’. Eloise’s brothers were more fulsome, but Nicholas did not say goodnight at all.

Madame deVrac finished her pastry and dabbed her lips with her napkin. She took a delicate sip of wine and looked around, her eyebrows rising.

“They have all gone? Just like that? Dreadfully rude, but then, they have no breeding.” She looked pointedly at Eloise.

“Yes, Maman. They have gone. My speech was not the success I thought it would be.”

“So there!” said Charlotte, “you’re not so clever after all.”

“Will they be friendly again?” Catherine asked, her eyes round. “They were all very cross. And it was such a good dinner. It should have put them in good spirits. I am.”

“You only think of your stomach, that’s why.” Charlotte got up. “I am going to bed. So should you, Cathy. Come, Maman, the party is over.”

“Yes, the party is over. I have been talking with Roki and the others in the village. They will be angry now. We must be careful.” Jotin was beside Daniel and looked at Trynor solemnly. “We had better suggest moving out of the area for a while, until tempers cool. I had a quick look round the rest of the country. It has been a dangerous summer for the landowners.”

Daniel shuddered, then took a deep breath and stood up, helping Eloise to her feet.

“Come indoors, Madame. I cannot think any more tonight. It will be better in the morning, I can talk to the men when they are sober again and we can be reasonable.”

“Of course!” Eloise was relieved. “It was because they had wine. They are not used to it. Piquette is so weak no-one ever gets drunk on it. Even I feel a bit light headed and I am used to wine now. I will go and look at the baby, then go to bed. Good idea.”

“Go, now! Run, behind the barns, make your way to the village, to your mother’s. You can hide safely there, they will not harm a village girl. No-one will see you, they will not know you have left. I must fetch some papers, some other things. When it is safe I will catch you up.” Daniel pushed Eloise and Pascale out of the back door into the dark evening, kissed Eloise quickly on the cheek and ran back inside, waving his hand towards the barns, saying “I love you, go quickly now,” before closing the door. After a few moments Eloise heard the bolts shoot across behind her and was appalled. He had locked them out. But she could hear the mob shouting at the front of the house and knew that Daniel had gone to meet them, to talk some sense into them. There was no help she could give, nothing she could do anymore. She was a village girl who had become a lady, she belonged nowhere in these confusing times. Eloise stood uncertain, in the shadow of the house, sure no one would see her here. Marie-Claire, in her arms, stirred and whimpered. Pascale put her arm through Eloise’s and they stood, shuddering.

“I think Daniel thought we had already run away,” Pascale said, squeezing her sister’s arm. “I do not think he intended us to hear the bolts, he does not mean to shut us out, just those noisy ones.” The noise from the front of the house was growing louder, a thumping started. Eloise thought she could hear Daniel’s voice, remonstrating. The baby wailed and as she did, a dark shape moved around the house. They pressed themselves harder into the shadow of the porch.

“Come on,” a raucous voice cried, too close. “We can get in the back here.” Feet pounded and Eloise heard laughter. She broke away from the house and ran towards the barns, not looking back, trusting Pascale to follow, hoping the moon’s light would not betray them. The noise of the crowd grew louder behind them, laughter and angry shouts in equal measure.

In the shadow of the barn, she stopped, leant against the wall and tried to catch her breath. She rocked Marie-Claire, hoping she would not cry, would not hear the mob and be alarmed. But you should be alarmed, my little one. Your Papa is in there on his own, trying to protect the house, to keep it for us, to look after us. She put her hand to her neck and fingered the gold flowers that hung there.

“He looked after me, until now, when he locked us out. Why did he not run with us?” Eloise asked.

“I do not know, he must have some good reason, he is a man,” Pascale muttered, her bravery deserting her as she cowered beside Eloise.

“Because he knows they do not want to hurt you, you are not in danger, so long as you keep out of sight. It is the master of the house who is at risk. He is going to get out another way and draw them away from you.” Trynor hovered, looking back towards the house. “Jotin is encouraging him to leave, now, out of the far windows. He will be safe in the marshes. The crowd will find the wine and get drunk and do no more harm. Come on, away we go, into the wood.” Trynor pushed Eloise, hoping she would feel him and
Eloise turned away from the house and walked around the back of the barn. From there it was not far to the little wood. She gathered up her skirts in her free hand and ran the short distance. Once they were between the trees they had to move more slowly as the undergrowth tore at their hems and branches flicked into their faces.

Eloise stopped as a branch caught her hat and nearly pulled it off. She grabbed at it and her hold on the baby loosened. Marie-Claire began to slide towards the ground. Eloise stooped quickly to save the baby and sat down with a bump at the foot of one of the trees. She gathered her cloak around her, settling the baby on her lap. The air was cold, a white cloud billowed from her mouth and nose, and she could see Pascale because of the sharp puffs of vapour she was producing. Later in the night it might freeze in the air. She shuddered and tucked the baby close against her, to share her warmth with the tiny body. Pascale sat down beside her and they huddled together, tucking their feet up under their cloaks.  Eloise put her arm around her sister, throwing her cloak around Pascale, so that they were sharing their heat.

“I am too upset to go further now,” Eloise said, tucking the cloaks together. “Tomorrow we will go to the village. We will be safe there with mother. Surely they will remember that I am one of them, when they are calm in the daylight.” The baby sighed and mumbled in her sleep. Eloise closed her eyes and let her head nod forward.

Daniel waited inside the door for a moment before he shot the bolts, picturing his beautiful wife running away to safety. He muttered a little prayer for her safety.

“
Trynor is with her, and Pascale with her own guide. They will do their best. They are not in real danger, anyway. Go on, do what you have to do quickly,” said Jotin.

Daniel hurried through the house to the study and set his oil lamp down on the desk while he opened the drawers and took out the important papers. He stuffed them into his pockets and turned to the safe, putting the money into a leather purse. There was not much, he had sent most of it away yesterday with his mother and sisters, but it would maybe be enough to buy off the crowd and allow his safe passage. I wonder did Eloise take all her jewellery with her, he thought, or was she too hurried?

“Do not waste time on jewellery” Jotin was shimmering on the spot, trying to encourage Daniel to leave now. “They will prefer money. You can buy more pretty things later. Goodness, you could even make them, if you could only remember. You’d think you had handled enough gold back in Crete to last you several lifetimes.  Listen, they are getting excited. Come ON!”

Daniel stopped and listened. The crowd were singing now, he could not make out the words but it sounded aggressive. He turned and ran for the stairs, Jotin at his heels shouting ‘No! No!’  taking them two at a time. He dashed into the main bedroom and stuffed the contents of Eloise’s jewel case into his pockets. Then he went to the window and opened it, leaning out to pull the shutters closed. The crowd roared and someone threw something, which hit the outside of the shutter with a dull thunk. Daniel rushed from room to room, closing the shutters. Under one window was a group of men he recognised from the farm.

“What are you doing here?”

“Come
to tell you we need more pay, Seigneur!” The man swept off his cap and made an exaggerated bow.

“But I know that already, I am making changes, you have been told. The money must come from somewhere.” Daniel reached for one of the shutters.

“Out of your pockets then!” a shout came from behind the men he knew. “Down with the aristos!”

“Explain to your friends that I am not an aristo, would you?” Daniel sighed. “I just work the farm, organise things. I do not organise how society is run.”