POVERTY'S PRIDE

CHAPTER SEVEN (Part One)

CHAPTER SEVEN (Part One) 

The following morning Eliza Gilbert ordered George Dobbs, the groom, to drive her into the village in the trap. She went once a month normally to order provisions and suss out the gossip.

     People might think it unusual that she was making a second trip and so she decided to make pretence of calling on the Rector, Mr Timpson, to see how he was on behalf of Sir Leopold. But it was Joshua Tucker she was hoping to see in private.

     The front door of the Rectory was opened by Mr Timpson’s housekeeper, Mrs Collins. Eliza was always wary of her for there was no bigger scandalmonger in the village.

     Mrs Collins, in her early sixties, was short, thin and wiry, with sharp eyes that missed nothing. She regarded Eliza with raised eyebrows.

     ‘Well, Mrs Gilbert. What brings you twice to the village in one week? Must be something important.’ Mrs Collins was nothing if not direct in satisfying her curiosity.

     Eliza sniffed. ‘I’m here on behalf of Sir Leopold,’ she replied archly. ‘Enquiring after the Rector’s health.’

     ‘You’d better come in then,’ Mrs Collins said with obvious reluctance.

     She stood aside and Eliza sailed through. They stood together in the hallway. Eliza was hoping to be shown into the drawing room but Mrs Collins had other ideas.

     ‘We can talk in the kitchen,’ the woman suggested.

     ‘But I’m here on behalf of Sir...’

     ‘So you said,’ Mrs Collins interrupted quickly. ‘Mr Timpson is not seeing visitors. He’s abed.’

     ‘Mr Tucker...’

     ‘The curate is in the study writing his next sermon.’ She gave a derisive sniff. ‘If you can call it a sermon.’

     ‘I think I should speak with him,’ Eliza said firmly. ‘Sir Leopold will expect a proper report.’ She looked down her nose at Mrs Collins. ‘I hardly think he’ll be satisfied with what a servant has to say on the matter.’     Mrs Collins’ lips thinned. ‘If you insist I’ll see if he can spare a minute.’

     She scuttled across the hall to a closed door and rat-tatted on it. ‘Mr Tucker,’ she called out in a high voice. ‘A messenger is here to see you from Sir Leopold Trevellian.’

     The door was opened immediately and Joshua Tucker stepped out, an eager expression on his face. He paused when he saw Eliza.

     ‘Mo...!’ He clamped his lips shut and straightened his wide shoulders. ‘Mrs Gilbert,’ he began again in an even tone. ‘Do I understand it that you are calling on me on behalf of Sir Leopold?’

     ‘No!’ Mrs Collins said rudely. ‘She’s here to enquire after the Rector’s health.’

     ‘That will be all, Mrs Collins!’ Joshua said in a stern voice. ‘Fetch a tray of tea if you please.’

     ‘I’m run off my feet as it is,’ the housekeeper grumbled. ‘Up and down them stairs, up and down.’

     ‘If you can’t manage, the Rector will employ someone younger.’

     Muttering under her breath, Mrs Collins turned and scuttled away towards the back of the house.

     ‘Come into the study, Mother,’ Joshua said.

     ‘Be careful, you fool!’ Eliza exclaimed glancing after Mrs Collins retreating figure.

     ‘It’s all right, the woman’s deaf.’