Garlands of Gold (7 page)

‘I’ll speak to her about it later today.’ He moved away from the bench. ‘It’s most opportune that you’ve come here now, because I’ve made a little gift for you to compensate for not having anything from my travels on the day of my return.’ He opened a cupboard door and for a matter of seconds in the brightness of the sunshine pouring through the window she saw an oval wooden plaque, known as a portrait medallion, with her own face carved on it in profile. Almost immediately he thrust it out of sight, taking out instead a little round looking-glass surrounded by carved foliage inset with tiny flowers and berries. She was wide-eyed as he handed it to her.

‘It’s beautiful!’ she breathed. It reflected her awed and delighted face as she held it in front of her. ‘How very kind of you! I’ll keep it always.’

‘I had started it before I left for Italy,’ he said, pleased by her bright-eyed pleasure in his gift. ‘So it was simply a matter of a little more work and a final polishing.’

‘But how do you do that?’ she asked wonderingly. ‘The wood shines like silk.’

‘I use
equisetum hyemale
,’ he replied, his eyes amused.

‘Whatever is that?’ she exclaimed in bewilderment.

‘You’ll know it better as “horsetail” perhaps?’

‘But that’s a weed! It’s called “scouring rush” as well, which is the best name for it, because I’ve used its stalks bound together for scouring pots. When I was at school my friends and I made whistles from the hollow stalks.’

‘That’s what it is.’

‘But perhaps it does not grow in England?’

‘Yes, it does. England has plenty of watersides and other damp places where it can be found just as it is in most of Europe, but it is also sold in markets as it is here in Holland, because it can be used for so many purposes.’

She looked at him keenly. ‘I believe you have just divulged your own secret method of the finishing touch to me.’

He laughed. ‘Maybe and maybe not. At least I can be sure that you are not going to set up in competition against me.’

‘Yes, you are right,’ she answered, amused. Then she added seriously, ‘I should not think anyone could compete with your skills.’

He shook his head. ‘You would not say that if you had seen the wonderful carvings that I saw on my travels. But I hope for my work to reach the highest possible standards in the future. That is when I’ll have my own workshop with assistant carvers working for me. Naturally I don’t expect that to happen overnight.’

‘Nevertheless, I hope it comes about quickly for you.’ There were many questions that she wanted to ask him out of a natural curiosity, but most of all she would like to ask about the portrait medallion she had glimpsed in the cupboard. Did it mean that he found her pretty enough to want to capture her looks to keep for himself? Was it possible that he was as attracted to her just as she knew she was to him? But since he had chosen to keep that symbol of his admiration out of her sight she could not ask him about it.

‘I’ll certainly do my best.’ He saw that she had wandered over to his stack of planks. ‘I’m taking those woods too. They will get me started.’

She looked over her shoulder at him. ‘Is there anything special about them?’

He came across to her and tapped the planks in turn. ‘These are box wood. It’s from a tree that doesn’t grow very tall or very big, which means that two planks and sometimes several more have to be fastened together before work can be started on a task of any size.’ He indicated a paler wood. ‘That is called lime wood, but it is from the Linden tree, which I like to work on best of all. It is a very pale wood, but how that will be received in England I don’t know. Oak is that country’s favourite wood for carving of all kinds.’

Turning away from the planks, he reached for a roll of thick paper on a shelf and began to unroll it into three separate sheets on to a clear space on the bench, putting small tools on the corners to keep them flat.

‘I remember that you wanted to see this Tintoretto etching that I brought home.’

She stood by his side to gaze down at the spread scene, moving slowly to examine it from one end to the other. Christ was depicted on the cross, looking down on the grieving women huddled below, while one of the thieves was being raised up on another cross and the second thief was being nailed to a third. It was all amid busy crowds of spectators, including some in authority on horseback, seeming to be controlling all that was happening. The vitality of movement combined with the compassion and the torment revealed in the masterpiece seemed almost tangible from the force with which it had been created. She could not begin to guess how much more compelling the original painting would be.

‘It is magnificent,’ she breathed. ‘I can see why you were rooted to the spot when you saw this masterpiece in Venice.’ When they had studied it together a little longer, she noting every vibrant detail, she spoke again. ‘I’m very grateful that you have let me see this image of it.’

He gave her one of his smiling glances as he began rolling up the etching again. ‘It was a pleasure.’

As she stepped away from the workbench she remembered the reason why she was there. ‘This is the first chance I have had to thank you fully for coming to find me on the very night of your homecoming.’

He raised his brows in surprise. ‘Didn’t you know? Robert was ahead of me in fetching his rapier as soon as Nurse Bobbins’ message was conveyed to us. He would have gone alone to search for you, not wanting me to leave my guests, but naturally I would not let him go alone when it was possible that your safe-keeping was at stake.’ His mouth spread into a wide grin. ‘I think he hoped for some sport. It would not have been the first time he and I used rapiers to end a troublesome incident. We had quite a few adventures on our travels.’

She was taken aback by the news that Robert would have been the first to come for her. ‘I should express my appreciation to him too. Do you know where I could find him now?’

‘I think he’s in the library.’ He gave her a smiling glance. ‘I’ll tell you something else. It was Robert who nicked your assailant and I followed suit with the other rogue.’

‘I’m grateful to you both.’

She left the workshop, but before going to the library she took a few minutes to show Nanny Bobbins the gift she had received. The old woman admired it, holding it between her wrinkled hands, and then she eyed the excited girl keenly.

‘You haven’t forgotten my warning?’

Saskia laughed light-heartedly. ‘Indeed not! It’s just that I have never owned anything so beautiful before.’ Then she grimaced at what lay ahead of her. ‘Now I’m going to see Robert Harting in the library. I’ve only just heard that he would have set out alone to find me on that horrible night.’

‘Then it is right that you should express your thanks.’ Nanny Bobbins handed back the looking-glass, noticing with some misgivings that Saskia immediately held it close again as if against her heart.

On her way to the library Saskia steeled herself for coming face to face with the Englishman again. When she reached it the door was open and Robert Harting was standing with his back towards her as he looked through a book that he had taken down from one of the shelves. He must have sensed her presence, because he glanced back sharply over his shoulder as she crossed the threshold.

‘How are you,
juffrouw
?’ he asked at once, his dark eyes boring into her just as at their first meeting. ‘I should have asked you before now, but I was advised not to remind you of an extremely unpleasant experience.’

‘That must have been Nanny Bobbins who instructed you.’

A smile touched the corners of his handsome mouth. ‘You guessed correctly. I was also reassured that you were totally recovered from any fright you sustained.’

‘Again by Nanny Bobbins?’

‘Of course.’ He put the book back on the shelf and came across to her. Then he noticed the little looking-glass that she was holding. ‘What is that?’

She displayed it proudly. ‘A gift from Master Grinling. Just look at those tiny flowers and berries and leaves! Isn’t it quite beautiful?’

He thought to himself that its real beauty lay in the face it would reflect, but he duly admired the carved frame that was giving her so much pleasure. ‘Did you come specially to show this gift to me?’

She was still unaware how she held it against her breasts as she came to the point of her visit. ‘No, that did not bring me here. I should have thanked you fully long before this moment for what you did for me the other evening, but it was not until a few minutes ago that I learned that you were ahead of Master Grinling when you both came to my rescue.’

‘Your rescue?’ he echoed with raised eyebrows. ‘That’s a grand way to describe finding you in the dark.’

‘But you did save me when I had never before needed such help.’

He shrugged carelessly, dismissing the matter, and she wished he would not stare at her in such a way. It was as if he were absorbing her into himself with his fierce gaze. Yet she decided that in spite of her earlier misgivings this was an opportunity to speak of her concern for Grinling in the forthcoming change in his life.

‘Would you be offended if I made a suggestion as to how you could help Master Grinling when he goes to live in England?’

‘Not at all. Please sit down.’ Robert pushed a chair forward for her and when she was seated he swung another around for himself. ‘Tell me what you have in mind.’

‘I think from this moment on you should talk only English to him. Unless he has some command of the language he will be at such a disadvantage in a country where everything will be new to him.’

To her surprise he smiled with a shake of his head, his eyes amused. ‘Do you think I haven’t tried that? Most of the time on our tour I refused to speak anything but English and, when necessary, Italian. Our tutor did the same, but although Grinling did his best he has a Dutch accent as thick as berries on a cherry tree and sometimes when he does speak English you would still suppose he was speaking his own tongue.’

She was surprised. ‘I didn’t know.’

‘How could you?’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘But you must not worry about him. He can read English well, although he writes it phonetically, which is somewhat strange at times. Yet usually he can make his meaning clear.’

She relaxed, sitting back. ‘You have reassured me. I didn’t want him to be cheated by some unscrupulous master when starting work in your country.’

‘Do you think we are all villains there?’

‘No, no,’ she said hastily, rising to her feet. ‘I was just concerned for him.’

He left his chair to walk with her to the door, but blocked her leaving by stretching an arm across to hold on to it. They were close and he was looking down into her upturned face. ‘I’m sure he would be charmed by your interest.’

Then, taking her totally by surprise, he leaned forward and for a startled moment she thought he was going to kiss her. But he was only pushing the door wider for her and she turned quickly to leave his presence. With all the dignity she could muster she made for the staircase, plagued by the terrible conviction that she had actually swayed towards him when she had thought a kiss imminent. She could feel her cheeks flushing hotly and placed the cool back of her hand against her face as she hurried away. He had been teasing her and she was furious with him for causing her such embarrassment.

He watched her go and heard the last rustle of her petticoats as she took a hasty turn in the stairs. Then he laughed, quite softly, before turning back into the library.

In her room she shut the door swiftly behind her and went to the window, still holding the looking-glass to her like a small shield. Robert had played a subtle trick on her. Looking out unseeingly at the falling snow she reminded herself that men in any household, whatever their age, so often considered maids and other young servants to be fair game. Robert in his English arrogance had shown previously that he was more than aware of the social gap between them and for a moment or two he had taken advantage of her being on her own. She had no intention of complaining to Vrouw Gibbons, for there was nothing she could complain about in that slight encounter. He had not touched her or actually kissed her, and if she even hinted at her disquiet she would most surely be accused of coquettishness or otherwise enticing him in some way.

She straightened her shoulders, able to see that she had her own way of retaliating! He should not receive a pomander from her when he left for England! When he saw her give one to Grinling he would know that it was his outrageous trick that had forfeited a gift.

Yet in the morning Saskia reconsidered the situation. He had dealt with those rogues that had attacked her and she should be grateful enough to pardon the liberty he had taken with her. After all, nothing had happened that she could set down in black and white. Quite often in merry gatherings the youths she knew as friends from schooldays had sometimes managed the briefest of contact with her lips even as she had turned her face away with laughter. Now in the cold light of morning she decided that in acknowledgement of Robert Harting’s kind act she was obliged to make him a pomander too.

Later that day Saskia took advantage of a free afternoon to meet a friend, Anna, and go skating with her. As they went through the market she was relieved to see that under a cloth protecting the fruit from the icy air there were still some oranges for sale. Ships coming in from all parts of the world kept Rotterdam well stocked with supplies and what were exotic fruits in other lands were common fare on Dutch tables. After purchasing an orange of the size that she wanted she put it in her pocket, promising herself that she would start work on it that same evening.